Chapter 28 The Dilemma

  As he stepped into the oak paneled study, Mr. Power left behind the noise and congestion of his party, which was already in full swing. Short, dapper Lawyer Snare was just inside the door, waiting for him.

  “He showed up a few minutes ago,” said Snare. “Half frozen. Looks as though he’s been wandering around the grounds in a daze.”

  “What did they do to him?”

  “See for yourself.”

  Power followed Snare around a wingback chair until they could see slumped in it a man in rags. His head and one eye were bandaged, and he was shivering. His outermost garment was a tattered checked jacket.

  “Bitterly, where have you been?”

  Bits rolled his head on the back of the chair until he made one-eyed contact with Power. He grinned mirthlessly. “It was assault, sir. Trapped me in their basement and beat and tortured me. I want every one of them arrested, everyone in Grace House.”

  “Oh, you do!” Power nodded to a burly policeman as he came in and joined them. “And who’s going to do this arresting? Their people?”

  Bits hesitated. “Who, sir? The police, our police.”

  “Not without a successful extradition order,” Lawyer Snare said crisply, “and Grace would never agree to that. You see, Bitterly, Grace House is attached to the Heavenly Embassy, so when you went in there, you were crossing national boundaries.”

  “Ah—aw—ah,” Bits moaned. “Do you mean I can have this done to me and get no justice?”

  Power reached out and calmly rapped the poet on his bandaged head, so that Bits cried out with pain. “Clear out the cobwebs,” Power ordered. “Forget about justice. If you want revenge, start by telling me this. Did Dignity and Reason receive invitations to this party, and are they coming? They’re late.”

  “Oh, I don’t know anything about that.” Bits hugged himself. “I want taken to a hospital.”

  Power looked to the policeman. “Shaky, go dump him. Take him home if he’s got one.”

  “No, a hospital!” Bits insisted.

  “You failed, boy. You didn’t get me what I wanted. If you ever learn anything worthwhile in this world it’s that you do what’s good for me. Don’t ever make me look bad. Cart him off, Shaky. No, wait a minute. Bitterly, what happened to Pinch?”

  Bitterly flinched. “They’re giving her political asylum, I think. She testified at Obscurity’s trial and identified me as City. I didn’t fail, Mr. Power, I was exposed by a traitor. It’s not my fault!”

  “It’s not my fault!” Power mocked in a singsong voice. “You make me sick. An operation goes plooey, and my people scurry like rats to ratholes. It’s not your fault; and Pinch isn’t coming back; and Obscurity—what happened to her? Was she convicted?”

  “I—I don’t think so. It looked like she had them believing she was a double agent, that she really works for the Embassy.”

  This brought Power up short. He turned to Snare. “She doesn’t, does she?”

  “No reason to think so. We don’t know of any Heavenite ties, and anyway, we’re not used to any subtlety on their part.”

  “Hmm?”

  “In other words, they don’t trick us, we trick them.”

  “Right.” Power moved away from Bits’ chair, and Snare followed him to the door. “Damage control report,” he said to the lawyer.

  “We need those signatures,” Snare said. “If Reason and Dignity don’t come here tonight and sign a City contract, then I’ll volunteer to take it to them. I’m not afraid of their so-called torture. Bits isn’t telling us the whole story.”

  “Of course he isn’t. If we don’t get them under contract, what happens? How bad is bad?”

  Snare actually smiled as he answered. “Three exposed agents, sir, one of them a long-time employee and ready to go on singing. That means our media have to respond to what the Heaven Channel will be reporting tomorrow morning. We’ll call it slanderous, unsubstantiated allegations, but the point is, it gets reported.”

  Power waved this away. “So what? Who’s going to believe it?”

  “Ninety-two percent will believe it, going by similar incidents in the past.”

  “Did you say ninety-two?”

  “Ninety-two.”

  Power whistled low. “How does that affect our public approval rating?”

  “Public approval must stay steady at eighty percent,” Snare said. “But we’re looking at a lot of contagious fear and suspicion. In half the houses in the City, they’re going to be on guard, thinking that everyone who comes to the door is a City spy. This could negatively affect our leverage rate by a few disastrous percentage points.”

  “Disastrous, you mean, because of our debt picture. A little less income?”

  Snare smiled again and his little eyes glittered behind his glasses lenses. “Yes. Our next debt review by the Hellites is less than two years off. We’re not making all our payments now.”

  Both men grew silent. Some things could not be discussed, but both were thinking of the last debt review, just a few months previously, when Power’s Hellite boss—for he had one—had not been satisfied. The City’s payment in slaves had been, as usual, in arrears. The Boss had accordingly, and quite legally, seized many municipal assets and had set a date to shut off power to the ‘sky wall’ that surrounded the city and kept its inhabitants from seeing out. He had closed all the roads to other cities, so that only airline service remained. Power and Snare knew that time and their legal obligations were against them. Next time it could be much worse.

  Power closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Go tell Shaky to get on his radio and find out whether a car has left Grace House yet. Tell him I’ll be at the bar.”

  As she came down the stairs, following Grace into the midst of the party, Obscurity saw him draw Reason and Dignity aside near the front doors. Reason, she saw, was glowing in a new dress. Dignity looked to be in his usual high party spirits. Though she slipped up behind Grace as inconspicuously as she could, Obscurity saw Dignity do a double take at her appearance.

  “I’m passing these on to you,” Grace was saying as he handed them the envelopes. “They were delivered by hand this afternoon.”

  The cousins opened the envelopes and read the invitations.

  “As you can see,” Grace said, “you still have time to arrive fashionably late. I can guarantee you’ll be welcomed even now.”

  Reason lowered her card. “Let me get a handle on this. Mrs. D’Ego is supposedly trying to get us published by Cross Eyes, and Cross Eyes is owned by the Powers, the same people who sent us Bits, among other nasty surprises.”

  “Yes, but Power isn’t the editor, this other man is—Blindazabat,” said Dignity, still reading from his own invitation. “And Swella says this was all her own idea.”

  “Dignity!” said Reason.

  “I’m just pointing out what it says.”

  Reason took his invitation from him and, putting it with hers, offered them back to Grace. “I remember you warned us this would happen. Of course, we’re not going.”

  Grace did not take the cards. “I urge you to go. If you’ve ever valued my advice, go to the Powers’ New Years party.” Grace’s chauffeur Fate now joined them, carrying Dignity and Reason’s coats. “As you see, I’ve planned for it. My limousine is waiting for you on the street.”

  Reason shook her head. “Why on earth?”

  “No, it makes sense,” said Dignity, taking his coat. “I think I understand.”

  Reason reluctantly took hers. “Then I’ll have to go too. I’m not letting you go alone into the lions’ den.”

  “Good,” said Grace. “You don’t need to stay any longer than it takes you to make a decision about publication. Go with my blessing.”

  As they turned to put on their coats, Obscurity grabbed Grace by the lapel. “Are you crazy? You’re sending lambs to the slaughter. At least let me go with them.”

&n
bsp; Grace shook his head and said nothing. With Reason already out the door, Obscurity charged over to Dignity and stood in his way, her eyes wide.

  “They’re going to try to get you to sign with them.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, if you do that, I can’t stay here anymore, and everything will just—just fall apart.”

  Dignity smiled and touched her headband. “Cool. Where did you get it?”

  She pushed his hand away. “Do you hear me? They’ll put a contract right in front of you!”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well—well, what have you decided?” Obscurity shouted. Others nearby became quiet and turned to look at them.

  Dignity smiled. “I have decided,” he said, “to swallow doorknobs.” Gently moving her aside, he went out.

  She stood still, wondering what he meant and feeling wispy as a ghost. Someone at her side was speaking to her.

  “...unless you’re not feeling well enough. Maybe it could be later in the evening. Or could you go on now?”

  “What?” Obscurity said.

  Love was beside her in a blue party dress. “Your song is next,” she said gently.

  “Oh no, I can’t. I’m not feeling well. I’m going up to my room.”