It worked.
The shimmer faded right away. It tried to assume several familiar shapes. I showed it my back and hung on to Belinda till she stopped struggling.
Saucerhead appeared in the doorway. ‘‘Hey, Garrett. The drivers are here to get your ratpeople.’’
I turned to look for John Stretch. The ratman nodded my way. He’d heard. He went to gather his henchrats.
Belinda let me know she was ready to come out. I turned her loose.
‘‘Wash that damned thing, Garrett. It’s ripe.’’ She looked around nervously.
‘‘What did you see?’’
Her honesty surprised me. ‘‘My mother. Looking exactly the way she did when I found her the day she died.’’ Her voice turned chill. Her mother had been murdered. By her father, Chodo, the world assumed. For fooling around. A sport in which Chodo himself had indulged, regularly. Belinda asked, ‘‘What happened? And will it happen again?’’
I tried to explain. Without being sure myself. ‘‘I don’t know why people see what they see. Most get something bad. But I’ve seen my mother, my brother, and a couple people who aren’t dead yet. You saw your mother. Some Hill types who were here earlier shared one ghost and brought it into focus so good that I’d recognize the woman in the street.’’
Aside, I said, ‘‘Good night, Rocky. Thanks for helping.’’
Morley and Singe had vanished.
Belinda maneuvered to keep the ghost behind her.
Did it mean anything that there was only one, now? Why not one for me?
There had been a platoon of the damned things before the Windwalker and her dad showed up.
John Stretch’s people moved out. Soon I’d be alone with Belinda. Not an eventuality to which I aspired. ‘‘Where did your thugs get to?’’
It was absodamnlutely guaranteed that if she maneuvered me into any position where temptation could be laid on, I’d be drowning in furious redheads before the smoke cleared away.
Belinda mused, ‘‘I hadn’t thought about that. Yet. It’s a question I’ll need to explore.’’
Really. She should have had six guys all over her the second she screamed.
She was herself again. ‘‘I’d better go. We don’t want Tinnie frosted about us being alone together with only twenty ratpeople and a few thousand rats for chaperones.’’
‘‘You surprise me sometimes.’’
‘‘I surprise myself. I have these impulsive moments when I turn human.’’
She was a sociopath fully aware of her psychosis.
I meet sociopaths in my line. Most know their heads don’t work like regular people’s. None of them consider that a handicap.
We went outside. Belinda’s men were gathered around the new guard shack, trying to keep their bits and pieces warm. To a man, supported by Tharpe’s crew, they hadn’t heard anything from inside the World.
Curious.
I saw Belinda off, then John Stretch and the last of his mob, with their harvest of succulent grubs. It was twilight, the sky now cloudless, the night coming up indigo. Shivering flying lizards perched high above, disappointed by the absence of game.
‘‘Don’t got much use for them things,’’ Saucerhead said. ‘‘Though their skin makes a damned good bootlace. But they help keep down the vermin.’’
‘‘Really? How so?’’
‘‘How many pigeons you see?’’ Tharpe isn’t fond of pigeons. Something to do with a strategically placed load at a critical juncture during a pickup game of outdoor passion at some point in the past. He won’t talk about it.
‘‘There is that.’’
‘‘Silver linings, brother. Silver linings.’’
65
I went back inside. It was lonely in there. A couple of ghosts floated aimlessly. They weren’t interested in me. They were too feeble to be scary.
I shut down most of the lamps. Thoughtful Garrett, trying to save the boss a bit of silver.
It was freezing in there now. I closed vents and exits that I couldn’t watch directly. Saucerhead and his guys were good, if they bothered, but there are some slick operators in this burg. I didn’t want any of those faced with too much temptation.
I had no real plan. My hanging around belonged to the category ‘‘Seemed like a good idea at the time.’’
I settled against a wall not far from the main entrance and thought about clunky music.
I dozed.
Somebody called, ‘‘Garrett? You in here?’’ Then, in a softer voice, ‘‘You’re sure he didn’t go home, Tharpe?’’
‘‘No, sir, Mr. Gilbey. No, sir. He never would’ve gone off and left the doors unlocked.’’
‘‘Over here.’’ I went to work getting my feet under me. It was hard. I’d stiffened up. ‘‘I fell asleep.’’
Hand on the wall, I looked around. I saw three ghosts, little stronger than heat shimmers, uninterested in the new-comers. The air was warmer now.
Gilbey and his niece stood just inside the main entrance. A nervous Saucerhead Tharpe filled the doorway behind, reluctant to come any farther. Gilbey said, ‘‘I stopped by to see what headway you made today. Looks like some work did get done.’’
‘‘There’ll be a full crew tomorrow. They don’t show, they lose their jobs to the breeds who tossed up that guard shack out front.’’
‘‘We had a complaint about you pushing the workmen around.’’
‘‘And?’’
‘‘I see some work got done today.’’
I took time out to be smug.
Gilbey asked, ‘‘What about the other problems? I see some things that might be ghosts.’’
I explained that we did seem to have dealt with the giant bugs. ‘‘For now. I’ll be amazed if more don’t hatch out. You know how hard it is to get rid of roaches.’’
‘‘And the ghosts?’’
I talked about that, too.
‘‘Interesting. Answer me this. How do we make it so cold down there that we don’t hear from this thing anymore?’’
Heather Soames drifted off in pursuit of a shimmer that appeared to prefer to avoid her.
‘‘I think we just need to keep the bugs off. It’s been content to hibernate for the gods know how long. I figure, keep the bugs away and the cold run down, it’ll fall asleep for another thousand years.’’
‘‘No idea what it is yet?’’
‘‘My partner took over that research. I had a couple Hill types in here earlier. They weren’t excited so it can’t be something sorcerers whisper about or shop for behind our backs.’’
Heather caught up with a ghost. She poked it with a silver hat pin.
I swear, vague, pus-colored shimmer that it was, it began to sweat. Fine drops rained down on the floor planking, speckling briefly before evaporating. The ghost fled.
Then the music started. The zinc orchestral maneuvers. Bill had done a good job describing that clunky sound. What he had failed to capture was the ferocious volume.
It wasloud! this time. The building shook. Despite the fact that the World was so new that it was still only half-finished, dust and dirt drifted down from overhead.
Saucerhead called from the doorway, ‘‘What’s up, Garrett?’’
‘‘I think it’s under control.’’ I had to yell.
Meantime, Gilbey caught Heather and told her, ‘‘Maybe you shouldn’t do that.’’
‘‘You think?’’ Though she was stalking a second ghost at the time.
The music changed. A children’s game song became pounding jungle rhythm. And got louder.
Its mood I could not discern.
I’d started to sweat. The place was heating up.
I got busy opening things up again.
Outside temperatures had plunged since sundown. The barking wind was bitter.
The music did not falter.
Finished opening up, I rejoined Gilbey and his niece. Beautiful woman, Heather Soames. Bright. But solidly equipped with a taste for self-destruction.
Saucerhead remained in the doorway. He wouldn’t come inside but he wanted to keep track. He had his hands over his ears. For what good that did.
Then he moved, pushed aside. Barate Algarda and Furious Tide of Light had returned.