“Wait!”
The “or else” came. It wasn’t the personal threat I expected. I’ve been threatened plenty so I don’t pay much attention anymore. But this guy told me, “The Master said to tell you he has your friend Maya Stump and it will be she who pays if —”
Wham! Back against the wall. “And I have you, old buddy.”
“I am nothing. I am a finger on his hand. Cut me off and another will grow in my place.”
“You really believe that crap?” He did. What our commanders in the Cantard wouldn’t give for a few thousand guys who didn’t mind being expendable. “Tey! Come in here.”
She came. She’d been eavesdropping, anyway. “What?”
“This guy says his boss has got Maya and they’re going to do nasty things to her. He doesn’t care what we do to him.”
She sneered. “He’d care before I got through with him.” Oh, the easy cruelty of the young.
“He would. But his boss wouldn’t have sent him if he knew anything. So I think I’ll just bruise him a little and throw him out with the trash.”
Like I said, she was a smart kid. She figured out what to do. “Well, if I can’t have him, the hell with you.” She pranced back to the kitchen. And out the back door to talk to the Sisters she would’ve left around the neighborhood.
I banged the guy off the wall again. “You tell your boss if he messes with Maya he better pray Chodo finds him first. All Chodo wants to do is kill him.
“There. We’ve threatened each other and pounded our chests and acted like jerks. Get out before I lose my temper.”
He looked at me like he thought it was a trick. Then he edged toward the door. When he was almost there I jumped at him. He yelped and took off.
I settled on the stoop and watched him go.
All that bullying hadn’t accomplished a thing. I hadn’t gotten any pleasure out of it. It didn’t make me feel good now. I couldn’t even convince myself there had been purpose in it.
33
Tey came out of the dark. I asked, “You got somebody tailing him?”
“Yeah.”
“So that’s taken care of. Why did you come? Dean said it was about Maya.”
“Yeah. I think we’ve got a lead.”
I gave her my raised eyebrow. It went to waste in that light, so I said, “How’s that?”
“You hear about that mess on Wharf Street? Where Chodo’s boys offed a whole mob? That sounded like some of what you told me about. We went down there and talked to kids who live there. Some of them saw the whole thing. Chodo’s guys didn’t kill everybody. A bunch got away out the back. They dragged a couple people with them. One of them sounded like Maya.”
Well, well. “Very interesting. Where did they go?”
“We couldn’t find out. They jumped into boats and headed down the river. But they didn’t go far. The kids told us what the boats looked like. We found one of them a half mile away. And we know they didn’t leave TunFaire because that one just came here to threaten you.”
I sure as hell didn’t feel like taking a walk but I said, “Suppose we go nose around?”
I told Dean what I’d be doing. I expected some backchat, because he’d had to stay away from home a lot. But he didn’t say a word. I bet he would’ve said a few if I hadn’t been looking for Maya.
It was several miles to the Wharf Street massacre site. Tey’s boats had gone south from there, a goodly hike. After a while we started talking, mostly Tey making herself shine bright in the Doom. I asked her about Maya. She wouldn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. From time to time a messenger came to tell her about the man being followed. He was headed the same direction we were. Tey told the messengers our anticipated route so she could be found again.
My angels were out there, too, shadowing me.
We had a parade going.
“I tried looking for Hester tonight,” I said at one point. “I looked at every blonde who works Old Ship-way. None of them were her.”
Tey laughed. “Old Shipway? You’re precious, Garrett.”
“Eh?” Precious?
“You believed that actress stuff?”
Well, yes, I’d bought it after Peridont validated it.
“Garrett, the only acting she ever did was the kind where the other actors are donkeys or guys that should have been born donkeys or ogres or trolls. You know what I mean?”
I grunted. I knew. I was disgusted, not so much because of what Jill might be doing as because of a failure of my vaunted eyesight. I’d let myself see only what I’d expected to see. I’d swallowed it whole when Peridont had fed me a whopper about the provenance of his mistress. I’d forgotten the first rule: everybody lies about sex, and the client always lies about it.
I felt pretty dumb.
Tey said, “She’s back in the Tenderloin. I had a couple kids go down there. They saw her but she disappeared before they got close enough to find out anything.”
I wondered if I ought to buy that. Jill had come up with the Doom. They didn’t have much reason to turn her up for me.
This was an odd one, all intangibles. In a case where a pot of money is the stake, you know where the axis is. You watch the money and soon enough everything becomes clear — even when some of the players aren’t motivated primarily by greed. For them the pot becomes an excuse, a lever.
So far I hadn’t caught a whiff of a pot, excepting maybe the Relics Peridont had mentioned the first time we talked, or whatever it was the boys had been so sure they could steal from Jill. That seemed to have been forgotten in the fusing and feuding since.
I’m a guy who doesn’t understand intangible stakes. I know some would argue that I have a set of values I take pretty seriously, but if I can’t eat it or spend it or make it go purr in the night, I don’t know what to do with it. It’s a weakness, a blind spot. Sometimes I forget there are guys willing to get killed over ideas. I just go bulling ahead looking for the pot of gold.
We got onto Wharf Street. The guy who had dropped by my place was still ahead of us. My angels were out there in the dark, probably cussing me for my thoughtlessness in running them all over the city. Didn’t I ever sleep?
Guys, I was cussing me, too. For the exact same reason.
“There’s the place where it happened.”
Wharf Street, the waterfront, the whole commercial and industrial strip down there facing the river, is a whole lot like me. It never goes to sleep. When the day people move out, the night workers come in and the economy keeps rolling along.
Forty or fifty goblins and ogres and whatnot were standing around gossiping while a group of city ratmen got set to load the bodies on wagons for delivery to crematoria. Moving with its customary lightning efficiency the city was just now getting around to cleaning up.
The operation was proceeding in the usual fire-drill state of confusion.
The ratmen moved at a velocity barely perceptible. I said, “I’m going to go nose around.”
“Won’t they stop you?”
“Maybe. But any human who turns up this time of night looking officious they’ll figure belongs.”
I was right. I got some dark looks but they were the kind reserved for bosses in general, for being bosses. Nobody said a word.
I didn’t expect to find much and I was right again. The scavengers and sightseers and souvenir hunters had picked the bones clean. They’d even stripped the stiffs. The rat-men were bitching because there wasn’t anything left.
If they want the cream, they ought to get there in time to skim it.
I did notice one thing right off. Those sopranos had taken over the whole building and had been there long enough to turn it into a weird residential temple. One wall in every room had been replastered and painted with murals depicting creatures with eight limbs, no two the same. I saw a spider, a crab, an especially ugly octopus, and a lot of things that don’t come with eight limbs, including a ringer for the thing that had visited Chodo. One double-ugly was human except that it had a s
kull for a face and something disgusting in every hand. Above him was the same motto as on the temple coins, “He Shall Reign Triumphant.”
I said, “I don’t think I’d like that.”
“Ugly mother, ain’t he?” a ratman remarked.
“He is. Any idea who he’s supposed to be?”
“You got me, chief. Looks like something somebody dreamed up while he was doing weed to get him through a withdrawal fit.”
“Yeah. Not your average boy next door.”
There wasn’t anything else. I hit the street. We headed south. I didn’t have much to say. I was thinking that if I ever stopped chasing around long enough I’d have to spend some time researching these guys and their devil god.
We walked another mile. I started mumbling about only now realizing how damned big TunFaire is. One of the Sisters told us the guy we were following had gone into a warehouse half a mile ahead, fifty yards from where the one getaway boat had been abandoned.
The girls had the place scouted when we got there. There were two doors, front and back, and no windows at ground level, just some high up to let out the heat during the summer. The main door was big enough to roll wagons in and out. The girls had the back covered. They had no idea who or what was inside. They didn’t want to find out.
I looked at the place. What did I have here? An army of kids, nasty but not real fighters. My angels, who had no interest in launching a raid. And a big unknown.
“I’m going in there,” I said.
“You’re crazy, Garrett.” Tey shook her head slowly.
“Sometimes you have to make things happen.”
34
The man-sized door in the wagon door wasn’t locked. I stepped inside. The place was as dark as a tax man’s heart. I listened. I heard nothing but what might have been mice scurrying, then what sounded like a door slamming at the far end of the place.
I eased forward, sliding my feet, feeling the air with my left hand. Far away, I glimpsed a flicker of light above head level. I kept moving cautiously, wishing I had owl’s eyes.
I didn’t get that wish but I did get light.
A bunch of guys jumped out of nowhere, opening the shutters of lanterns they’d kept well hidden. I counted nine. A tenth, from behind the others, said, “Mr. Garrett. We’d begun to fear you hadn’t taken the bait.”
“Sorry I’m late. Had trouble with tardiness all my life.”
Weapons appeared. My sense of humor wasn’t going to play with this crowd.
“If I’d known it was that kind of party I’d have dressed.”
I had no idea how I’d be affected myself, but I let loose with my green bottle.
I reacted the same as everyone else. In three seconds I not only didn’t know where I was or why I was there, but I wasn’t too sure who I was. I couldn’t move in a straight line. I tried — and hung a left and walked into a stack of crates. They were empty. I kept going. The whole pile came down on top of me.
That was one to brag to the grandkids about.
I tried to fight the crates, but they were too quick. So I just gave up and let them have their way with me.
I would have taken a nap except a bunch of people kept yelling at some guy called Garrett and I couldn’t get to sleep for all the racket.
Somebody dug me out of the pile. Two of my angels stood me up while another popped me in the face. That didn’t help a whole lot.
The other two started tying guys up. There were girls all over the place, looking for something portable and valuable. I got my tongue untangled. “Maya.”
Kids started running around yelling, “Maya!”
Guys yakked about getting hold of some guy named Chodo, they could sell him their prisoners for a fortune. I seemed to remember them as angels. They didn’t sound very angelic.
My head began to clear. “I’m all right now, guys. You don’t need to hold me up.”
Wedge snapped, “What the hell kind of stunt was that, Garrett? Walking into a trap you knew was there.”
“Had to make something happen.” I wasn’t going to admit the ambush had been a surprise to me, too. Anyway, I figured it would not be smart to brag that I’d wanted to make them come in the warehouse after me. They might not appreciate that.
They grumbled and let me go. I picked up a lantern and tottered back into the warehouse, following shouting girls.
Maya was in a loft office all the way back, above another double-ugly homemade temple. She was tied up enough for four kids. She looked a little shopworn, with bruises and abrasions that said she hadn’t been a cooperative prisoner.
I didn’t find her. The girls got there first. They were slicing her out of her cocoon when I arrived. But I got the credit. “Garrett! I knew you’d come.”
“Had to, Maya. When somebody does something to a guy’s partner, a guy is supposed to do something about it.”
She squealed and stumbled at me.
Some females can’t tell a wisecrack from a marriage proposal. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, kid, but maybe you ought to stand downwind till we get you next to some soap and water.”
“We can throw her in the river, Garrett,” Tey suggested.
Maya glared green death. Tey glared back. There was no love lost between those two. I asked, “How many got away?”
“None.” Tey snapped it. “They were all waiting for you except one. They have him out back.”
“Good. Can you walk, Maya? We can’t hang around. These guys have friends who’ll check up on them. Not to mention the Doom is way off its turf.”
“You’re not going to ask those guys questions?”
“If I was to set an ambush I wouldn’t use guys that could tell anybody if they blew it. And these guys are making a career of screwing up. You think any of them can tell me anything you didn’t pick up while you were their guest?”
She admitted it was unlikely. “They were a bunch of farmers before they came to TunFaire. They don’t know spit from dog doo. They’re just trying to do what their wacko god wants.” But she wanted to get back at somebody.
“Kick somebody in the ribs on the way. Come on. We’ve got to go. Thank Tey for helping find you. She didn’t have to.”
Maya did, but not very graciously. She must have felt threatened. When you’re a chuko, you have to prove yourself everyday.
There wasn’t anyone for her to kick. Wedge had decided reinforcements were likely to arrive so he and his buddies had made sure they’d collect whatever bounties Chodo had put on those guys.
Maya looked bad when we hit the street. I said, “I told you Wedge wasn’t nice people.”
“Yeah.” After we walked a while, she said, “Men like that Wedge, they’re a whole different kind of bad, aren’t they? People like my stepfather … He was cruel, but I don’t think he could’ve killed a dog. That Wedge did it like it was nothing.”
Chukos put a lot of value on being tough. And a lot of them are hard, nasty little critters — especially in front of an audience. Some are dead losses at thirteen. But some still have the kid in there somewhere behind the defenses, and that kid wants to believe there’s some point to living. Maya still contained that hidden child. And it wanted some reassurance.
“Who do you think does the most real harm?” I asked, thinking maybe anybody else was better qualified for this. “The emotional cripple who tries to cripple people who can’t protect themselves? Or the emotionally dead killer like Wedge who basically doesn’t bother anybody but them that asked for it?”
That wasn’t saying what I wanted to say the best way. Maybe there were big holes in it, but there was plenty of truth, too. The hurt a creep like her old man did lasts a lifetime. It gets passed on to the next generation. Wedge’s kind of hurt is flashy but it doesn’t last. And it doesn’t eat up kids who can’t fight back.
I didn’t like Wedge. I didn’t like what he was. He probably didn’t have much use for me but I’d bet he’d agree.
Anyway, I knew what I was saying. And Maya seemed t
o get the message. “Garrett …”
“Never mind. We’ll talk when we get home. The bad time is over.”
Sure it was. You smooth talker, Garrett. Now try and convince yourself.
Dean fussed over Maya like he was her mother. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her. The sun was coming up, so I said the hell with it and went to bed.
35
My own body turned traitor. I woke up at noon and couldn’t get back to sleep. I should have been smug, the hero who had gone out to save the damsel and had succeeded, but I didn’t feel smug or heroic. I felt confused, angry, put upon, frustrated. Most of all I felt out of control.
I’m not used to getting knocked around without at least some idea of what’s happening and why. In this one I was starting to suspect that maybe nobody knew and everybody was too busy bobbing and weaving to figure out why we were in the ring.
Well, hell! I’m a thug for hire. I get paid. Do I have to think, too?
I want to know, for my own peace of mind. I’m no Morley Dotes, for whom the money is the only morality.
I went downstairs to stoke the body’s fires.
Dean had heard me knocking around and had gotten a meal started. Hot tea was on the table. Re warmed muffins landed beside it as I entered the kitchen. There was butter and blueberry preserves and apple juice, and sausages were popping in the pan while eggs boiled.
The place was crowded. “You having a party?” Two women were there with Dean.
He gave me one of his looks.
I recognized one of his more determined nieces, Bess, but the other woman, whose hair Bess was plaiting … “Maya?”
“Do I look too awful?”
No. “Stand up. Turn around. Let me look at you.” She didn’t look awful at all. They’d drum her out of the Doom if they saw her like this. “I just ran out of excuses for not taking you out. Except for maybe there’d be riots.” She looked good. I’d guessed that. But I hadn’t guessed just how good.