The being known to Sam as Bob, and to the rest of the known universe as Gh-zant, sat back in the cushions of his seat, absent his cheery demeanor. It had been six standards since somebody had dropped Sam into the ocean, and things weren’t going well.

For one thing, ratings weren’t high. Oh, they’d started off well enough. The five mile spectacle had already become game legend. And the attempted murder was certainly worth some views, if not particularly profitable from Sam’s point of view.

After that, though.... Ah, well. Bob had known about Sam’s personality before he’d signed him. Slow and steady was Sam. And watching a half crippled contestant hobble around an empty beach wasn’t exactly riveting.

Viewers had seemed to enjoy the battle with the raccoon, and that was good. But—

Movement. Bob eased down in his seat a bit more, watching the figures move across the street. He’d been starting to think Suchaali had lied to him, but there they were. He shook his head at the notion they’d had the moxie to sneak back in system. With the warrants on their brain casings? But, then again, they’d never been particularly known for their cognitive prowess.

He gave the three beings in question time to reach their destination and settle in. He wanted them good and relaxed. Presumably, they wouldn’t know he was after them yet. At least, if Suchaali was still worried about having to regrow arms.

The bug he’d planted earlier registered the noise of their entrance, went active, and started transmitting. Which either meant that they were so relaxed that they hadn’t bothered to sweep, or that his equipment was better than theirs.

He listened for a good while, waiting to see if they’d say anything incriminating. Oh, not that he was about to worry about evidentiary rules or anything. He just wanted to be sure he was dealing with the proper miscreants.

Instead of the Terran theater, though, they were grumbling about someone on this side. Someone who, apparently, had recently begun making moves, cramping their operations. No names, though.

He stiffened and straightened in his seat, eyes narrowing. Reaching forward, he tabbed the record feature to full before grabbing his fedora and exiting the rental vehicle he’d been using.

As he approached the doorway through which the targets of his hunt had entered, he shook himself, snapped his lapels, and evened his stride. By the time he’d reached the doorway, he was the amiable Bob Sam would recognize again. He palmed a small device and waved it across the access lock, pushing the portal open at the following clack of releasing solenoids.

He was replacing the door hack in an inner pocket of his tweed jacket when the first surprised guard noticed him. Bob frowned and shook his head, chucking his chin over his shoulder in the direction of the entryway.

The thug glared at him for a full second before its limbs fell limp and it nodded, slinking up against the wall and sidling past Bob on its way out. Without turning, Bob smiled quietly to himself. He heard the snick of the door releasing, and allowed his shoulders to relax a bit.

He remained worried. He wasn’t sure how much muscle the syndicate had within this complex. He’d been off in other climes for awhile. Clearly, his reputation hadn’t faded in the interim, but he wasn’t immortal by a long shot and he might yet have a fight on his hands.

The room went quiet when he entered, all oculars orienting on him as he sauntered in. Ignoring them, he sauntered up to one of the three bars and leaned an elbow on it, raising a hand as if to capture the bartender’s attention. The autodispenser glided over, took his order, and dispensed his drink before returning to its station.

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He waited, neither speaking nor taking up his drink, simply taking in the room and its denizens with his friendly smile intact.

“Gh-zant,” a voice finally rose from the silence. “How’d you—?” but it didn’t finish the question. Either it knew, or didn’t consider the how to matter. “What you want?” it ventured.

Bob opened his jacket, sort of nonchalantly before hooking a thumb behind his belt. “Ichtit,” he acknowledged. Long way from home waters, aren’t you?”

“What’s it matter to you?” the being shot back. “You join the enforcers while we were gone? Think you can clear us out by your lonesome?”

Bob waved a hand dismissively. “You aren’t that lucky, Ichtit,” he laughed. “I’m just here on private business. See, I’m representing the contestant in the Terran theater.”

A significant percentage of those assembled entered into various stages of what did their species for green in the gills. Ichtit not the least among them.

“We ain’t got nothing to do with that!” Ichtit spat, waving both spatulate manipulative members hastily. “After the last time, we know better than to mess with any of your—”

“Oh?” Bob cut him off, his smile leaving his eyes, his cheerful grin sliding into grim. “And yet, I somehow get the impression that you didn’t know he was my client until just this moment.”

“Ah....” Ichtit gulped, its throat sack going a brilliant violet.

Bob visibly released the tension in his shoulders and waved his off hand again, his eyes sparkling, his amiable grin back as though it had never left. “Relax, Ichtit,” he told the distraught gangster. “I know it wasn’t you. Bit of miscommunication from my sources, I suppose. I’m just here to talk.

“Still,” the hand went to his chin, his brows furrowing theatrically. All while his right hand remained at his waist, thumb still hooked behind his belt buckle. “I’m wondering if there isn’t something you might be able to help me with. You know, just to put my mind at ease.”

Ichtit was sliding its oculars back and forth among its cronies, looking for support, finding none. “If I can,” it said. “Long as it don’t....”

“I understand,” Bob nodded. “It’s a hard business. Things you can’t talk about. Things you’ve got to protect.”

“See,” Ichtit nodded. “I knew you were a reasonable being.”

“Yessir,” Bob grinned wide. “Reasonable, that’s me. Reasonable old Gh-zant. So who’s Ramzar Belgoss, Ichtit?”

Ichtit went very still, its entire epidermis going a sickly orange and sagging. Bob waited, his eyes now playing cautiously across the room.

“Not somebody to mess with,” another being filled the silence, its voice level. “Not even you, Gh-zant. Belgoss would pick you up and tear you into pieces like breaking open a sanfruit.”

“Oh?” Bob raised an eyebrow. “Big old fella, huh?”

“Yeah,” the being affirmed. “Big. Strong as a cargo trolley, and mean as a ghassach. But that ain’t the whole of it.” the being paused. “He’s got a whole clan behind him. All of ‘em just as bad. And,” it scowled, “they got somebody inside the grand council working with ‘em.”

“Why haven’t I heard of them, then?” Bob wondered.

“Just came in from up-arm,” the being told him. Decided one day they was tired of lording it over their little rock and figured they’d move up in the cosmos. They been gobblin’ up territory a coupla three sqween now, moving like an invasion force. Not even afraid of the enforcers.”

“So you lot are back here...?”

“Running from them,” the being nodded. “Yeah. And if you’re as smart as everybody says, you’ll steer clear of them too.”

Bob gave that some thought. He wasn’t keen on staging a gang war over a single game. Even he wasn't that crazy. No, that was too big a boo for one single game. His game. His first entry into the main event. His big splash.

Oh, who was he kidding? He wasn’t in this event for the money. He was in it because he had the first real contestant who might complete the course, and he knew it. That went far beyond anything either he or Sam might earn in the short term. Even if he lost money in the short.

Gang war? Well, if it came to that. Like he'd told Ichtit, it was a hard business. But maybe it wouldn't come to that. He'd have to see.

“Bartender,” he called out, laying a credit chip out on the bar. “A round for the house. On me.” And he turned back out into the room, toasting them with the drink he'd finally picked up.

“Now,” he leaned in once they’d downed whatever they’d ordered on his tab. “Just between us friends... tell me everything you know about this Belgoss character.”