The Ballroom killer who was hauling Ringstorff away was the largest of them. A great hulking brute, showing all the signs of a slave bred for heavy labor. Ringstorff felt like a child in his huge hands.
His voice was of a piece, heavy and hulking. "Quite a fellow, isn't he?" The chuckle which followed was even heavier. "And if you're still wondering if he's really a demon-oh, yes, indeed, he most certainly is. Though I will say he's gotten a bit less maniacal. The last time I saw him do this, he slaughtered a dozen of you swine."
"What's his name?"choked Ringstorff. For some reason, he needed to know.
But no answer came. Just another heavy, hulking chuckle. And so Ringstorff, as he was hauled down the corridors toward whatever fate awaited him, had plenty of time to reflect on the fact that falling into the hands of the Audubon Ballroom was really not all that much of a blessing.
When the prisoners were gone, and it was all over, Thandi looked down at Berry. The girl's face still seem composed, although the little hand in her own was clutching it rather tightly.
"You okay?" she whispered.
Berry's face made a little whimsical twitch. "I certainly didn't enjoy it. But, yes, I'm okay."
Her eyes came up to meet Thandi's. They were green eyes, but seemed darker in the dim lighting. Thandi was surprised to see what might be a twinkle in them.
"Don't tell me. Is that the spy you've got a crush on?"
Thandi didn't say anything, but the answer must have been obvious from her expression. Berry puffed out a breath; then, she made a little shrug. "You are one kinky lady. On the other hand…"
The girl studied the figure of Victor Cachat with eyes that seemed much older than her seventeen years of age. "On the other hand… yeah. If you could trust him, I could see where you'd feel safe around him." She looked back up at Thandi. "And I can guess that you'd care about that. A lot."
Thandi's returning squeeze of the hand was powerful. Powerful enough, in fact, to make Berry wince.
"Sorry. I forget my own strength. More than that. I hate having to watch it all the time. And, yes, Berry, you're right. It probably is kinky, I don't know. It's not even so much that I need a man I feel safe around, as one that I know feels safe around me." Her dark eyes moved to Cachat, who was still standing silent and still at the center of the room, as if lost in his own thoughts. "Not even a monster woman is going to screw around with him."
She was startled to feel Berry's hand jerk out of her own. Even more startled, when Berry reached up and slapped her.
"Don't ever say that again!" The girl was genuinely angry, the first time Thandi had seen her be anything other than calm and composed. "Nobody calls you a monster to my face, not even you. Is that understood?"
And that was the most startling moment of all. The way that such a small girl, glaring up at a woman twice her size and many times her strength, could command such instant obedience. As if she were a princess in truth.
"Yes, Ma'am. Uh, Berry."
Chapter 29
From the dark table, Jack Fuentes watched Victor Cachat walk over to the two women who'd entered from the other side of the gaming hall, and observed the recent events from that vantage point. That would be the Solarian officer, and the Manticoran girl she'd rescued.
"This is awfully rough, Walter," he said hesitantly. "I'm not sure-"
To his surprise, Alessandra interrupted. "Oh, piss on it! I think it's time things got rough."
Jack and Tomas Hall both turned to stare at her. Tomas seemed as surprised as Jack was. Of the three of them, Havlicek had always been the most gingerly in her approach to the Mesa-Congo problem. And even more gingerly, in the way they dealt with Manticore.
The woman who headed the powerful Havlicek clan and was one of Erewhon's three triumvirs was scowling. Oddly, perhaps, the harsh expression made her seem more attractive than usual. Jack thought that was probably because it was so rare to see any expression on her face. A face which, besides, had been so often reshaped by biosculptors that Fuentes thought of it less as a "face" than a permanent mask.
But there was no mask, now. Alessandra was genuinely angry and determined. "I know I've been urging caution all along. But that was just because I couldn't see a good way to strike them down without exposing ourselves. Don't you see? This kid is it. Right out of the old days. Lei varai barbu. Sure, he's not of us-he's a Havenite. But this is no time for screwing in-round."
Lei varai barbu. Jack Fuentes thought about it, for a moment. Alessandra was using an ancient slang term, from the hybrid patois of their gangster ancestors. Like most such expressions, the exact translation was rather meaningless-"the true bearded one"-but the connotation was precise. The one you went with, when the family's life or honor was at stake. The one who might die in the doing, to be sure, since fortune was a fickle thing. But would neither flinch, nor hesitate, nor cry in pain or fear. Not ever. And who, even if he failed, would strike such terror in the family's enemies that they would never forget the penalty to be paid.
Jack saw Tomas Hall's expression undergo a change, and knew that further argument was pointless. And, not more than a second later, felt the same change in his own heart and mind anyway.
Alessandra's right-and Walter was right all along.
Piss on it. This is now a matter of honor. Let it go any further, and we might as well just admit we've become Manticore's lackeys. Sitting up like poodles, begging for scraps from the baron's table. Taking a pat on the head for a gesture of respect.
"All right, Walter," he growled. "It's a go. First, tell us what you need. Then-"
He and Havlicek and Hall exchanged quick glances. Clearly enough, they'd let him take the lead.
"Then, give us your terms."
There was always this to be said for Walter Imbesi, Jack thought. He was too reckless in his policies, too much the gambler, but he was never anything other than gracious when it came to the rest.
"Terms can be discussed later, at our leisure. Believe it or not, I feel no burning need-not at the moment, anyway-to turn this into a quadrumvirate." He nodded deeply, almost a bow, and added an ancient expression of his own. "Maynes uverit, banc etenedu."
Tomas grunted, approvingly. "Hands open, table wide." Loosely, that meant: Let's take care of pressing business, and we'll worry about the divvy later. There'll be plenty to go around.
"Good enough," said Jack. "And for the moment?"
Imbesi didn't reply immediately, taking the time to study Cachat again. By now, Cachat had reached the two women and was discussing something with them.
"I'm not sure," he replied. "First, we all need to stay in the background." He gave Alessandra a glance of sly approval. "Lei varai barbu, indeed-but part of the purpose of such, after all, is to save the family by taking the fall himself. If need be, of course, which we hope it won't. But… who knows?
"Beyond that, I think we just ought to keep giving Cachat the reins. He was lying, you know-stretching the truth, at least. He really isn't a planner. If he were, this scheme of his would have collapsed already, from the complications. He's just a genius at improvisation. So let him keep improvising."