"My people?" Ray asked. Then added, "He what?"
"Well, it's true that Senator Hartmann is apparently a joker - "
"Senator Hartmann?" Ray turned and looked at Callendar. "What's he talking about?"
"Well, Mr. President, I hadn't quite got around to telling Ray about his new assignment - "
"Hadn't you better, then?" Barnett said, all the twinkle gone from his voice.
"Yes, well. Hartmann, of course, broke the story on the Card Sharks. Now he's on the loose.... If only we'd listened to him in the beginning, but, after all, world-spanning conspiracies and all that ... well, never mind. We figure he may know something more about this Black Trump. Other agents are looking for him, but you were so close with him for so long that we thought you might have more of a handle on what he'd do, where he'd go."
Callendar was speaking faster and faster as he saw the increasingly hostile expression on Ray's face. When he finished Ray glared at him and spoke in a voice of glacial coldness.
"Let me get this straight. Rudo and Johnson are running around loose in the world with God knows how much of this Black Trump stuff, just waiting to set it loose and kill every wild carder in existence. And you want me to go chasing after some fucking yellow caterpillar because he might, he just might know something about this shit! Well this is the biggest piece of - "
"Ray!"
" - fucked up - "
"Agent Ray!"
" - government bullshit - "
"Agent Ray!" Barnett bellowed in a voice that easily overwhelmed Ray's. "I will not tolerate such language!"
Ray clamped his mouth shut and looked sulkily at Barnett. "Yes, sir," he said, almost without an edge in his voice.
That's better," Barnett said. "Now. You're going after Hartmann - that is, if your new partner hasn't captured him already."
"Partner?"
"Yes. For the sake of appearances and, well, fairness and equal opportunity, I'm going to partner you with another agent," Barnett swiveled and spoke into the intercom set on his desk. "Send in Ms. Harvest." He turned again and looked at Ray, "I'm implementing a new policy, Agent Ray. I think it would be appropriate to have a normal agent, that is, a non-wild carder, teamed with those infected, that is, those with ..."
Ray's blood pressure started to rise again, then the door to the Oval Office opened and Ms. Harvest entered. She was young tall, blond, and lean. Her skirt was blue silk; her blazer matched. Her blouse was white with a cute little blade string bow tied at the base of her long graceful neck. Her hair was thick and straight. She wore it short, just covering her ears. Her glasses were gold wirerims. Her legs were leanly muscled, like a dancer's. Ray stood automatically as she approached.
"... Agent April Harvest," he heard Barnett's words again as he took her hand in his. Her handshake was cool and firm. Much, he imagined, as the feel of her body would be, knees to breasts, pressed against his. "She'll be in charge of the operation."
Cool to begin with, but -
"What?" Ray's sudden fantasy was interrupted by harsh reality. He turned to face Barnett. "What?"
"I said that Agent Harvest will be in charge of the operation to find Senator Hartmann."
"Are you serious?" He looked back at her with a frown. "Is she out of high school yet?"
Harvest pulled her hand from Ray's grasp. "I'm twenty-four years old, Mr. Ray, and I've been in government service since I graduated from college. Princeton."
"Well, let's give you a kiss on the cheek and a medal! Twenty-four!"
"Agent Ray," Barnett said, allowing more than a hint of severity to creep into his voice. "Sit down." Ray did, reluctantly. Harvest took the chair next to his. Ray was so disgruntled that he didn't even glance at her legs as she settled down. "If you'd been successful in your last mission the urgency of this one wouldn't be so great."
"It wasn't my fault," Ray muttered.
"Hmmmm," Harvest said.
Barnett waved his hand. "Whatever. We're not interested in apportioning blame here."
No, Ray thought. You've already pinned it all on me.
"We're concerned about the future." Barnett leaned forward, a concerned look on his face. "We must move quickly to capture those who know about the Black Trump. We can't let knowledge of the virus leak to the populace. Think of the riots that would happen if the unfortunate citizens of Jokertown should learn of the existence of the Black Trump. Think of the damage to property and life alike." Barnett turned his attention to Harvest. "Agent Harvest has already led an operation to that end. In fact, I'm eager to hear her report.
"The dragnet was generally successful," she said crisply. "Most of the targets have been placed in protective custody on Governor's Island."
"Including Hartmann?" Callendar asked.
"Well, no." A hint of annoyance crept into Harvest's voice. "He escaped, along with his companion, Hannah Davis. I've just received word that we picked up Davis, but Hartmann remains at large. The joker known as Quasiman also escaped, but he's not too much of a threat to reveal information about the Trump." She hesitated. "We also lost the carder once known as Snotman, now the Reflector. We're not quite sure what happened to him."
Barnett waved his hand. "He's a minor player. The one that concerns me is Hartmann." He turned his full attention to Ray. "So you see, your mission becomes even more valuable. You must bring in Hartmann and all others he might have told about the Trump. We can't have them running around, spreading wild rumors."
"Certainty not, sir," Harvest said.
"But they're not rumors," Ray interjected.
"We know that," Barnett said. "But the effect would be the same, whether this Trump exists or not - "
"It exists," Ray said flatly. "I've seen the results."
"Whatever. The existence of the Trump is to be kept top secret. It is not to be discussed, hinted at, or supposed about. Officially, it does not exist. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," Harvest said.
"Agent Ray?"
Ray looked at the President for a long moment, then he nodded. You bastard, he thought. I'm glad I never bothered to vote.
"Good." Barnett nodded decisively. He picked up the dossier on the presidential desk, stood and handed it to Harvest. "You'll need this. It's all the information we've been able to gather about Hartmann and his movements in the past few weeks."
Harvest took the file. "Thank you, sir."
Barnett came around the desk. "One last thing, before you go."
Ray watched in horror as Barnett got down on his knees on the rug in front of his desk. "Pray with me. Pray with me for the success of your mission and the fate of this great country that's been given to my keeping."
Callendar got down on his knees next to the President and Harvest joined him. Barnett looked expectantly at Ray.
"Well - "
Barnett gripped Ray's wrist. He was surprisingly strong, but Ray could have easily pulled free. Somehow, though, that didn't seem like the thing to do. "Pray with me, son, for your success and the soul of this great nation."
Ray got down on his knees, surreptitiously scanning the rug to make sure it was clean. The last thing he wanted was stains on his trousers.
"All right," he said. He bowed his head but still kept an eye on his commander-in-chief. If he starts talking in tongues, Ray said to himself, I'm out of here.
♥ ♦ ♣ ♠
Fridays for mosques, Saturday schul, Sunday church. Subtle Scents ran twelve hours a day, Monday through Thursday, with optional shifts on the three weekend days. Mondays, everybody worked. Zoe finished a Monday shift and marched home, thinking of a hot shower and an early bedtime. The smell of sizzling butter met her halfway up the stairs.
"Blintzes for dinner, mama?" she asked and stopped short with the door half open.
A thin Robert Bedford type, blond, mustached, and at ease, sat at the tiny table. He was grinning hugely, and scarfing down a stack of blintzes between smiles. The table held a half-gallon of orange juice, a pot of coffee, and a nearly empty quart jar of Anne's hoarded Hungarian cherry preserves.