Hiram dropped his head again. "No," he muttered, low under his breath. "No, I didn't." His shame was written all over his face. "If you're going to kill me, get on with it."
That was when Jay Ackroyd made up his mind and stepped between Hiram Worchester and Daniel Brennan. "Get out of the way, Ackroyd," Yeoman said.
"Daniel, Jay, please," Tachyon said weakly from the chair where he sat huddled in pain and misery. Both men ignored him.
"You claim Chrysalis was your friend," Yeoman said. "Why are you trying to shield her killer?"
"It was an accident," Jay said. "You heard him. You heard how it happened. Have a little goddamned mercy."
"Mercy is God's business," Brennan said. "Mine is justice."
"Tell me about it," Jay said scornfully. "Better yet, tell all those guys you've killed. Tell their widows and girlfriends. Tell their parents. Tell the kids some of them may have left behind."
"They knew the risks they were taking. The men I've killed would have killed me just as fast if I'd given them half a chance. I've never murdered an innocent woman."
"Chrysalis was a lot of things," Jay said, "and one of them was my friend, no matter what you think. But she was never innocent."
"I knew Chrysalis," Brennan said. "She did what she had to."
"Fuck that," Jay said. "She did what she chose to. What she chose to do was send a hired assassin to Atlanta. By last count, two Secret Service agents, a hotel manager, and a journalist are dead as a direct result, and we came that close to adding Jack Braun's name to that list. I'm not defending what Hiram did, but in my book, his hands are one hell of a lot cleaner than yours."
"Jay," Dr. Tachyon interjected softly, "Brennan's killings are an affair of honor. A blood feud. On Takis-"
"That's Georgia outside the window, not Takis," Jay said. "Why the hell are you defending this homicidal loon?"
"I owe him a life," Tachyon replied.
"You owe him a life," Jay repeated with disgust. "Real good. Well, you owe Hiram a life, too, remember? Not to mention the life you owe me. Come to think of it, you owe fucking Gregg Hartmann a life, if it really went down in Syria the way the papers said. Then there's the Turtle, Golden Boy, Straight Arrow… is there anyone you don't owe a life?"
" I owe Brennan two lives," the little alien said feebly. "I could never betray his trust."
Ackroyd wanted to scream. Instead he turned back to Yeoman. "Well, I don't owe you shit," he said. "You want justice? Fine. We'll take Hiram to the police, and he'll go on trial. But let's make it a two-for-one sale, shall we? You're great at serving up justice, how about you try a nice big spoonful yourself. Turn yourself in along with Hiram. Stand up in front of a fucking judge and tell him about your war."
"I answer to my own conscience, Ackroyd, and frankly, I don't give a damn what you think about it," Brennan said. "I'm not turning myself in. Now, for the last time, get out of the way."
There was a long moment of silence. Jay stared at Brennan. Brennan stared back. Tachyon looked helplessly from one to the other, then struggled to rise from his chair. With only one hand, it was a painful, clumsy process.
"I can get a finger up pretty damn quickly," Jay said to Brennan.
"The moment you even start to lift that hand, I'm going to squeeze this trigger," Brennan told him. "What are the odds on you being able to teleport a bullet in flight?"
"A million to one," Jay admitted. "But only if you don't hesitate. A split second of indecision, and you'll be shooting through the bars in the Tombs."
"Do I look like the hesitating sort?" Brennan asked quietly. His hand was very steady.
Jay thought about that one and didn't much like what he came up with. He risked a quick glance back over his shoulder. Hiram sat slumped on the corner of the bed, staring off into space, completely out of it. Whatever the hell was about to go down, it didn't look like the huge ace was going to be much of a factor.
"There's someone else," Tachyon said softly. His head moved slowly from side to side, searching. "Another mind. In the wall."
"Real good," Jay said sourly. He felt ill, but he should have seen it coming. "The phantom bimbo, right?"
"Changes the odds a little, doesn't it?" Brennan said, smiling.
Jay flexed his fingers and stared down the barrel of Brennan's Walther. It reminded him how much he hated guns, and the kind of assholes who carried them around.
From the look in Brennan's cool gray eyes, he had just about run out of time. There was nothing left but to go for it.
Brennan felt a vise clamp down on his brain. For a panicked moment he thought he was having a seizure of some kind, but then he realized that it was Tachyon. Tachyon's mind control. He raged against it, pushing with all the strength he had in mind and body. But it was useless. The only part of his body that he could move was his eyeballs. He glanced around the room and saw Jennifer walk woodenly out of the walls.
"Nice work, doc," Ackroyd said. "Now-"
"No."
"Look, goddammit "
"Decisions must be made. Discussed and made."
"I've made my decision."
"And I don't agree," Tachyon said flatly. "Grant me a little consideration in this, Ackroyd. I stand between three friends." The detective stared at Brennan. "Friends," he snorted. Tachyon lowered himself slowly back into his chair. Brennan could see the strain on his face, but the mental vise he'd placed upon Brennan's mind still held. "We will talk," the alien said, "but peace will lie upon this room."
Bending, Tachyon pulled his dagger from its boot sheath and dropped it on the carpet at his feet. Jennifer walked woodenly toward Tachyon and dropped her gun next to the knife. Tachyon turned to Brennan. "Daniel, will you lay down your weapon?"
There was no sense being stupidly stubborn. There was no way he could break Tachyon's mind control, and there was no way anything further would happen if he insisted on keeping his gun. He nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"And Ackroyd?" Tachyon asked. "What about you?"
"I hate this Takisian bullshit."
"I could take control of you and make you a dummy in these talks. I would prefer not to."
"Yeah, well, okay."
"Hands in pockets, please."
Tachyon released Brennan. He stepped forward and dropped his gun at Tachyon's feet. He looked at the alien with anger and bitterness in his eyes. "You betrayed me," he said.
"I prevented murder," the alien snapped. "Self-defense-"
"Oh, please! We bandy with words. Killing, it's all killing! You kill Jay because he attempts to put you in the Tombs. You kill Hiram because you get to mete out justice. The end result is all the same-death! And it's got to stop!" Tachyon pressed the heel of his hand against his head as if trying to push back agony. He turned to Worchester, who had been a mute witness to this all. "Hiram, what do you intend to do?"
"That's already been decided," said Jay. "We'll take-"
"Shut up! Hiram?"
"I'll return to New York and turn myself over to the authorities."
"I'll accept that," Brennan said. It was a reasonable end to their difficulties. It was a solution Chrysalis would understand. "I don't recall him asking your fucking opinion," Jay gritted.
"He'd better take it into consideration," Brennan said. He turned to face Worchester. "If you get to the airport and change your mind, if you decide to run, you'd better know now that you'll never have another day's peace. I'll be coming for you."
"You utterly amaze me, Daniel, with your rigid, selfrighteous certainty," Tachyon said. "Who made you God? Who gave you the right to place your judgment above all others?"
Brennan barked a short, harsh laugh. "That's funny coming from you, Tachyon. Release Jennifer."