The big man bounced her on his knee. "How did you get your act together?"
"The ones I have with me are adults. They know better than to mess with someone's mind. In between classes I guess I prattled to them about the circus. The circus they found interesting. When Mr. John put out the call for the star show, I decided to see what I could put together. What I have with me, Bullhook, is almost the entire faculty of the Surissa—the school where I was teaching."
"When do I get to meet them?"
The dark one shrugged. "They should be up soon. Ssendissians sleep about fifty percent of the time. Are you sure you can't stick around a little longer?"
The big man shook his head. "Me and my crew have to be at Eastern Regional in half an hour to catch the Burma shuttle." He lifted her and placed her on the floor. The door to the hotel room opened, and she saw her mother standing in the doorway.
Kristina looked at the big man. "I see you two found each other. How've you been, Willy?"
Bullhook stood up. "Fine. You're looking good, Kris."
"No thanks to you."
The big man looked down. "I had that coming."
Kristina snorted out a laugh. "That and a lot more, you bastard. Two and a half years without a damned word."
The big man turned to the dark one. "I got to be going, Waco." He looked at Kristina, then averted his glance and walked around her, leaving the room.
The dark one drummed his fingertips on the table top, but remained silent. Kristina looked at him. "Waco, can you look after Wilhelmina for another hour or so? I have a few things to iron out about the delivery of my new cat."
The dark one shrugged. "No problem."
Kristina looked at the dark one for a moment. "Do you think I'm too rough on Willy?"
"It's none of my business."
Kristina nodded. "You're damned right." She turned and left, closing the door behind her.
Little Will sat on the room's carpet and she watched as the dark one got up to brew another cup of tea. Through the open bedroom door came a long, gray serpent. It halted in the doorway and studied her. She crawled toward the serpent. When she was within arm's length, she reached out a hand and touched its warm skin. She looked up at the triangular head weaving on that slender gray body.
"You are pretty."
The head of the serpent weaved down until it was at the same level as Little Will's head. The serpent's eyes were violet; the pupils cat-like. "To me do you speak?"
She stroked the serpent again. "You are pretty. So very pretty."
The serpent reared up, examined the little girl, then again brought down its head. "Thank you. I think you are pretty, too."
She giggled and hid her face in her hands. "Oh, I'm not pretty. Kristina says I am a horror."
The serpent looked at the dark one. The dark one was absorbed in brewing his tea. The serpent looked back at the little girl. "Who is Kristina?" "She's my mommy."
The serpent's head rocked up and down. "She is your mother." The serpent hissed. "Who is your father?"
She held her hands from her cheeks. "I think it is the man who just left. He looks very sad to me." "I am not surprised."
Little Will frowned. "I do not understand."
The serpent reared up again. "I meant nothing." The serpent's head turned toward the dark one. The dark one turned toward the serpent, then picked up his fresh cup of tea. He nodded at the serpent, then left the room. The serpent turned back to face the little girl. "What is your name?"
"Mommy calls me Wilhelmina. Everyone else calls me Little Will."
The serpent's head bobbed up and down. "I am called Hassih, Little Will. Would you like to be friends?"
Little Will clapped her hands. "Oh yes! Oh yes!"
The serpent's head bobbed again. "Then we shall be friends, Little Will. Watch as I tie myself into a knot."
Little Will clapped her hands and opened her mouth to a silent laugh.
... and the dream faded as the smell of smoke returned.
Little Will did not see; she did not hear. But she felt the man's presence next to her. And there was another. They talked.
"I got the gang working on beefing up the kraal. All the dead stock is out of Number Three. Christ, what a mess." Silence. "Pony, some of the troupers're talking like we ought to cut up and preserve the meat."
A longer silence. "Put 'em in the trench, Packy. We've found enough edible stuff to get by. We're not eating our damned animals!" Silence. "Hell, Packy, we've been covered in crap before, but this..."
More silence.
"I don't have no answers, Pony. Except we do like always: don't think about it—"
"—And just move on to the next stand, Packy? Just where is that next stand? And when in blood-eyed damnation is the city going to kick us off this lot?!"
Little Will opened her eyes to narrow slits. It was night again. Packy Dern was still sitting on the platform to her left. Pony Red Miira's huge form stood between the two platforms. He was rubbing his eyes. He lowered his hand and jabbed Packy's shoulder. "Look, you. Keep your trap shut about this. I just need a little sleep. Haven't slept since..."
"This ain't my first May, Pony."
The boss animal man looked to his right, then to his left. In the light from a fire, Little Will could see that Pony's eyes were dark circled, his leather-brown face deeply lined. "There's an empty spot." He turned his head back toward Packy. "Fireball hasn't had any luck with the radios. Her knob twirlers can talk to the other cars, but no subspace commo. I just can't understand how Arnheim managed to sabotage every single stinking radio in the show."
"The guy had a head full of bedbugs. What's to explain? They got hold of Number Two yet?"
The boss animal man slowly shook his head. "They finally got a fix on Number Seven. Kuumic says that he's in the middle of some damned desert." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm for some sleep."
"Pony?"
"What?"
"What's the name of this planet? Just in case someone should ask?"
The boss animal man stared off into the darkness for a long time. "Funny. Back on the Baraboo when the route book man was running that damned fool name-the-planet contest, I had more important things on my mind. Never did find out what name won. A name seems a lot more important now." He looked down at the boss elephant man. "What did you pick?"
"Nowhere."
"That stinks."
"What did you pick?"
"Philadelphia." Pony Red shrugged and let his hands fall to his sides. "I thought it was funny."
"Go get some sleep."
As the boss animal man turned and stumbled off into the darkness, Packy looked down at Little Will. His long, sorrowful face frowned for an instant, then smiled. "I'll be—" He turned away and whispered loudly. "Mange! Mange! Come here."
Another shadow rushed up and stopped. "For crissakes, Packy, will you pipe down?"
"I whispered."
"Like a foghorn you whispered." The shadow nodded toward Little Will. "What is it?"
"She's awake. Her eyes are open."
Mange moved to the right, bent over, and placed a warm hand against Little Will's face. The hand quickly moved down her left arm and held her wrist. "Little Will?"
She opened her mouth and tried to speak. Pain; white, stunning pain. The shadows and yellows blended together, swam, and faded as she felt herself falling end-over-end into a universe where pain was not allowed.