"Aren't you being a little too pessimistic?" I clamped down and pushed the pain back. But not very far. "Man, you let yourself get way too impressed by people off the Hill. Did Hill people give you your job? I thought Prince Rupert did that. And what were these guys trying to pull, anyway? They were trying to cut the rest of those witch doctors up there out of the jackpot. You watch. The rest of their kind will take one quick look at the facts and figure they had it coming."
"You do have a knack for looking on the bright side, Garrett. I sure hope it's as easy as all that."
First I'd heard of me being a brightside kind of guy. But what the hell, eh? If I played to that maybe Block would forget to nag me about Casey's getaway.
I reminded the good colonel of his obligations. "I thought you were going to take me home."
85
Colonel Block's coach was still a block from my house when it bogged down in traffic. Macunado Street was clogged with bodies, most of them human and only remotely acquainted with personal hygiene, but with plenty of odds and ends and mixtures in the crowd, too. Everybody wanted to see the glowing blob in the sky that seemed so interested in our neighborhood.
This blob wasn't a flying disk. Nor was it like those things that Evas and her friends had flown. This was more of a cylinder with gently tapered ends, with nothing protruding outside. To hear the crowd tell it, the cylinder had descended to ground level several times but was now just hovering, like it was confused. Or just waiting.
I told Block, "I'm telling you right now, flying around up in the air isn't one-tenth as much fun as you might think."
"And you'd know what you're talking about?"
"Hasn't been that long since I took a few rides on a pegasus."
"Garrett, you ought to write all your adventures down. Being mindful not to leave out any of the bullshit you're always laying on people you know."
"I'd do that if there was any way to make a few coppers out of it. But even I have trouble believing some of the stuff that's happened to me."
"You're right. You'd have a credibility problem. I don't believe some of it—and I was there when it happened."
The crowd oohed and aahed as the skyship suddenly dropped down almost to touching level, just about where the Garrett homestead stood. It hovered there only briefly. Colonel Block was looking out the other side of the coach at the time. He might not have noticed.
He did say, "All these weird things going on in the sky lately have had their positive side effects."
"For instance?" I wasn't paying close attention. I was worrying about Casey's stubborn streak. Was he going to get after Kip again, now?
"Such as the political shenanigans have quieted down for a while. We haven't had anybody march for days. And it's been at least a week since there was a significant race riot."
"People get tired of the same old entertainment."
Casey's skyship rose up against the backdrop of the night, dwindled till it was a point lost among the stars. I wondered just how strange his home country could really be. Presumably those of his people that I'd met were amongst the most bizarre specimens. The normal people would stay home, content to do normal things.
Colonel Block dropped me in front of the house, the street having emptied quickly once the show came to an end. "Hang on, Garrett." He made me wait. "What do you intend to do about Bic Gonlit?"
I hadn't given that much thought. It didn't need much. "Ignore him and hope he goes away, I suppose. He's just been doing his job. He can go on doing it. I don't see how that could involve me anymore."
Block grunted, said, "I do want to know which stormwarden he's running with, if you happen to stumble across that bit of information."
"You got it." I started up the steps to the house.
A moment later I was surrounded by a cloud of pixies, every one of them squeaking, all of them determined to have me adjudicate countless disputes and quarrels. I was rude to them all, whether or not I knew them.
Singe opened the front door. She held a big, cold mug of beer. Ah, the little woman, welcoming me home.
As I started to extend my drinking hand Singe tossed back half the mug. Then she told me, "The Dead Man said you were coming."
"He's awake again?"
"That Casey woke him up. He said."
"Damn! That's a trick I wish he'd taught me before he went away."
Garrett.
"All present and accounted for, near as I can tell. Headache and everything. What's up, Big Guy? What'd the Visitor have to say?"
Just no hard feelings and farewell and thank you and do not be too concerned about reactions to his report. He does not believe that his superiors will insist upon any follow-up. The damage done by the Brotherhood of Light was slight and should damp itself out within a generation. Apparently it did the same last time around.
"That's good to know. Whatever it means. I'm going to go sleep off this headache." After I drank some beer and chased it with headache powders.
86
Deal Relway himself came to the house. He never made it quite clear why. The little man has trouble articulating sometimes. He did hint that he was convinced that I'd collaborated in the escape of a particular royal prisoner and that I had been an accessory to the total moronification of three already-subhuman subjects of the Karentine Crown. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing in the case of those particular subjects.
As far as he was concerned, justice had been served.
"What was that all about?" I asked the Dead Man after the director took his leave.
The only response I got was the psychic equivalent of a snore. I wanted to scream. I'd counted on the Dead Man to pluck Relway's psychic bones.
87
Karenta's current monarch has been so deft at survival that most of his subjects have had the opportunity to learn his birth date. They have begun taking advantage of the fact that the King's Birthday is, traditionally, a Karentine holiday.
This year the people of substance had chosen to collect in the reservoir park. There they would show off their new seasonal outfits and their participation in the latest fad, the wonderful world of inventions called three-wheels.
Any family that showed up without being able to claim at least one three-wheel on order might as well resign itself to being the butt of condescending gossip for at least as long as it took for us to develop a grander, bigger, more expensive model.
I had to attend with my business partners, who brought most of their families. Which meant there were beautiful women in every direction I looked, be they Tate, Weider, or Prose. I didn't get much chance to exercise my eyes, though. Tinnie had decided I was back on her A list. Which, apparently, awarded her complete custody of where I directed my vision.
Alyx Weider was too busy scooting around, showing off her own custom three-wheel, to afford her usual distraction.
I steered myself toward Tinnie's Uncle Willard. "This is an amazing show, sir." Every damned three-wheel we'd built was here somewhere. So it seemed. "When are we supposed to do the judging?" A huge part of the festivities was a contest to see which young lady could dress up her three-wheel the prettiest.
Our end users, so far, were almost all girls and young women of extremely considerable substance. A demographic I'd have found particularly interesting if I hadn't been claimed. For the moment.
"Ha!" I told the redhead. "I am supposed to be looking." Then, "Why aren't you out there outshining Alyx and Rose?"