"What's your name, kid?"
"B.B."
Easy enough. "Okay, B.B. Your meal will be here soon. Just sit back and relax.
Watched him as we waited. He couldn't take his eyes off the servers wheeling by. On two occasions I thought he was going to lunge at the dessert cart. Finally a server wheeled up and slid our meals onto the table. When it asked if we wanted to modify our order, I told it no and stuck my thumb in its pay slot. As it trundled away, I turned back to the urch. He had the steak in both hands and was gnawing at it.
"Put that down!" I said in as forceful a whisper as I dared. To his credit, he didn't drop it, and he didn't buck me on it. He eased it back onto his plate.
"S'mat?" he said with a wounded expression as he licked the gravy off his lips.
"You trying to embarrass me? Ever hear of a knife?"
"Course."
"Well, unless you want everybody in this place to know you're an urch, use it!"
He proceeded to hold the steak down with his left hand while he cut with the knife in his right. Was ready to get real angry when I realized he wasn't trying to turn my screws.
"Okay, drop everything," I said softly.
He did, reluctantly, and sat there sucking his fingers.
If I was going to have to sit here with him, I didn't want him making a spectacle of himself. Held up my fork and said, "This takes the place of your fingers when you're eating with Realpeople. It's called a fork. Here's how you use it."
As I picked up my knife and reached across to demonstrate, he lunged forward and covered his plate with his hands. Just as quickly, he pulled them away and leaned back. Instinct, I guessed. I speared the gnawed corner of the soysteak, sawed through his teeth marks, and handed him the loaded fork. Watched him grab it and shove it into his mouth, watched him close his eyes as he chewed.
"S'steak?" he said in a hushed voice after he had swallowed.
"Well, something that tastes a lot like steak. Only the mushrooms are real."
He attacked the meal. My shrimp culture sandwich was only half gone when he looked up at me from his empty plate. Nice thing about soysteak — no fat, no bone, no gristle.
"Said nother."
"Look, if you're not used to gravy and that sort of — "
"Said!"
"All right, all right!"
Punched in a reorder of the soysteak but skipped the speedspuds. Finished my sandwich and watched him work his way through the second steak. Knew he was going to have a bellyache by the way he was wolfing it down. Surprised me, though. Asked for dessert. Treated him to a chocolate gelato-to-go as we left. He had it finished by the time we got up to midlevel. As we waited on the platform for a slot in the crossBrooklyn tube, he turned green.
"You feeling all right?" I asked.
"Na' s'good, san."
"Not surprised after the way you — "
And then he was running for the pissoir. Never made it. Chocolate-colored soysteak-speedspud stew splattered the platform. When he was empty, he returned to the boarding area, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
"Told you not to have that second soysteak."
He smiled up at me and jerked his thumb at the gravity chute that led back to the restaurant. "Third now?"
Took a halfhearted swing at his head. He ducked easily, laughing.
— 7-
"An urch search, ay?" Elmero said, smiling horribly after I'd explained Khambot case. He repeated the phrase. Seemed to like the sound of it.
Doc was there, wiffing a pale yellow gimlet. He had a round black face, a portly body, and owlish eyes. He still had a year to go before his license suspension ran out and tended to spend a lot of time here.
"Where do I come in?" he said.
"Need an opinion on the autopsies of those dead kids. What's your consultation fee?"
Doc snorted a laugh. "I believe it would approximate my tab at this establishment."
Glanced at Elmero who shrugged his narrow shoulders.
"Not unreasonable," he said.
"But I don't have access to those data," Doc said. "Can't tell you anything without data."
"That's okay. Elmero can jack into — "
"Elmero can't jack anywhere!" Elmero said, his face a stoney mask. He was looking past me at the urch.
"He's secure," I said quickly, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder. He'd been good. Hadn't said more than one hello since he came in. "B.B. is tight. Tight as can be."
Elmero arched his eyebrows and cocked his head. "You guarantee that?"
"To the Core." Knew I was safe saying that. Not being Realpeople, urches couldn't testify in court.
"Good enough."
Elmero rode his chair over to his comm chassis and began his jacking procedure. He broke into the coroner's datafile and then we began to search. In the under age five category, we found one John Doe and one Jane Doe, each with an unregistered genotype, deceased on the date in question. Doc took over then and scanned the data. Twice.
"Nothing here but trauma, all simultaneous, consistent with a fall. No biological or chemical toxins or contaminants, no molestations. Generic foodstuff in the intestines. What we have here are two otherwise healthy kids dead as a result of a fall from a height consistent with the middle sixty floors of the tower complex they were found next to."
B.B. piped in. "No drug? No sex?"
It was the most he had said since we'd entered Elmero's.
"I believe I covered those fields," Doc said.
"Has to be drug!"
Looked at him. "Why does there 'has' to?"
He glared at me, then turned and stalked out.
"'B.B.' is an urchin name," Elmero said.
"Really?" Hadn't known that.
"Common one. The other most common is 'B.G.'"
"That's all very interesting, "Doc said, "but what I'd like to know is why a couple of toddler urchins were up on the middle level of the Boeddeker North building in the first place."
"Something nasty, I'll bet," Elmero said with a sour grin. "Something very nasty."
This was getting interesting. Intriguing, even. But it was time to settle up accounts: Elmero canceled Doc's balance, then deducted that amount plus his jacking fee from the big store of credit I had with him from the gold he'd fenced for me after the Dydeetown girl job.
Then I hurried out, looking for B.B. Found him watching somebody playing the new zap game. Procyon Patrol was passe now. Bug Wars was the current rage. Grabbed his arm and pulled him outside where we stood in the midst of Elmero's latest holo envelope — a classic Paris sidewalk cafe. Nice, but don't try to sit on one of the chairs.
"We've got to talk, urch. You're not telling me everything you should be tellng me."
"S'n'true, san — " he began, then stopped himself. "That not true."
Caught and held his eyes with my own.
"Why were you so sure of drugs? Truth now, or I walk."
He looked away and took a deep breath. He spoke carefully.
"Beggee kids be snatched."
"Snatched?" It was the first I'd heard of it. "By who?"
"D'know."
"How many?"
"Lots."
"Why?"
"D'know."
Was almost glad he didn't know. Wasn't sure I wanted the details on why someone was kidnapping little urchin beggars. Was sure it wasn't for ransom. But now I knew why there had been six urchin guards for that little blonde beggargirl down by the Battery yesterday.
"Were the two dead ones snatched?"
He nodded.
"Have any others been found dead besides the ones at Beodekker North?"