Cat-and-mouse is not a smart game to play when you are the mouse.
The three rodents were talking among themselves, and Nohar began to slowly
withdraw from the rodent
fiasco.
Nohar had nearly gotten to the door to his apartment. Bigboy and Fearless had slunk away, but the white one stayed.
"Rajasthan!"
The white rat was addressing him directly. She wasn't making any threatening
moves, so Nohar stopped and
waited.
"You are a lucky cat, son of Rajasthan—" How did she know, how could she—"What do
you-"
"I speak! You listen.*' The force of the rat's voice actually made Nohar stop his question in mid-breath. The tiny rat's body could produce a voice that would intimidate a rabid ursine. "The finger of God has just touched your brow, son of Rajasthan. Those that control want your life for their reasons. They buy you much tolerance."
The rat paused, and for once Nohar had nothing to say. She just stood there, staring at him with eyes mat looked like high-carbon steel. Nohar turned toward his door—
"Pray you that God doesn't forget you, Nohar. If the blessing is lifted, Zipperhead will have you."
Nohar punched the combination on his door. He had given the rats enough of his time.
"/'//have you, Nohar,"
As Nohar ducked inside, the white rat added, "You, or someone you love."
He slammed the door shut. It was a shame. She hadn't been bad-looking. Her triangular face ended in FORESTS OF THE NIGHT
43
a delicate nose—but she was a die-hard creep just like her idiot subordinates. She also wore cheap pink perfume. Why would a morey wear that kind of crap? Nohar had hurried away from the smell as much as the spiel. He took a few deep breaths of relatively clean air before he started up the stairwell.
The humidity was making his door stick again, and it took him a few seconds to unwedge it. The damn thing was heavier than it should have been because it had a steel plate in it, a relic of the previous tenant. Nohar would have questioned the wisdom of sticking an armored door in a wooden door frame.
Cat ran up to the door and immediately began rubbing against his foot. "So you hungry or lonely?" Nohar asked the yellow tomcat as he picked it up. A loud purr from under his hand told him to figure it out for himself. Nohar pushed the door shut with his foot and ducked into the living room. Cat started butting his head into Nohar's chin, and, after glancing into the kitchen to check Cat's dishes, Nohar decided Cat wasn't hungry.
"Sorry I took so long, I got distracted by the local color." Cat closed his eyes as Nohar scratched him behind the ears. "But, lucky us, I got one hell of an advance from a client before the first of the month."
Cat started grooming Nohar's thumb.
"Yeah, right. Look, you little missing link, I have to put you down so I can get this damn pink clothing off. So don't start mewing at me—"
Nohar put him down and Cat started mewing.
He undressed and looked at the comm. Two messages waiting now.
"Comm on," he said to the machine as he started peeling clothing oif of his damp fur.
"comm on."
Nohar reclined on the couch. Cat took up a perch on his chest and purred. "Classify. Phone messages."
44
S. ANDREW SWANN
"two messages. July twenty-ninth, three-oh-five p.m. from detective irwin harsk, calling from—"
"Play."
Static, then Harsk's bald black head appeared on the screen.
"Sorry I didn't catch you, Nohar." There was a smile on Harsk's face and Nohar couldn't decide if it was ironic or sarcastic. "I thought I'd tell you that another little red light is flashing by your name. The DEA computer has this 'thing' about large cash transactions. Ten thousand dollars? The Fed is curious, and so am I. We're watching you, so—on the off-chance the cash is legit—remember to withhold your income tax."
That was damn quick, even for the Fed. The DEA must have a tap on the ATM down the street. It was irritating, but not that surprising. Harsk knew he was clean, but he'd let the Fed wonder just out of a sense of perversity. The comm was asking if he had a reply,
"Yes. Record," Noharcleared his throat, "Harsk, don't call back until you have a warrant. End. Mail. Reply."
Nohar closed his eyes and clawed the back of the couch. He told the comm to play the earlier message without really paying attention to it. He wasn't looking directly at the screen when he heard a husky female voice.
"Raj?"
"Pause!" His eyes shot open and he turned to look at Maria Limon. The call had come in close to two in the morning, during his meet with Nugoya. In the pressure of the moment, Nohar had forgotten to call Maria and cancel their date—
This wasn't the first tune either. Nohar had a sinking feeling.
She was at a public phone. He could see the streetlights behind her. There was a frozen shimmer on the screen where the lights were reflecting off the black
fur under her whiskers. Apparently the Brazilians had FORESTS OF THE NIGHT
45
been more creative with their moreaus. She'd been crying. Nohar doubted his tear ducts could be triggered emotionally.
Maria's golden eyes, her pupils almost round, seemed to level an accusation at him.
Cat tilted his head and gave Nohar a curious look.
"Replay."
Static, then Maria's face reappeared on the screen. Nohar watched as one delicate black hand wiped away the moisture on her cheek. The hand fell and she looked directly at Nohar.
"Raj? I'm sorry about this. I should have the guts to face you, but I can't. You'd say something and we'd end up shouting at each other, or fucking each other— or, God help me, both—I can't do this anymore. I still care for you, but if we keep seeing each other, I won't—" Maria's voice broke, and more tears came. Maria was a strong person. Nohar had never seen her cry before. "Good-bye, Raj, I have to leave while the memories are still worth something to me."
Maria's face vanished as she broke the connection.
Nohar felt like someone had just kneed him in the balls, and he was feeling his stomach drop out just before the pain came.
They had known each other for only two months. It shouldn't have been a surprise. He had been expecting something like this all along. She was right. Cat must have sensed some of his agitation, because he started butting his head against Nohar's face and licking his cheek. Cat stopped after a few seconds and regarded Nohar with his head cocked to one side. Cat's expression seemed to be asking him what was wrong.
Nohar stayed quiet for a long while before he told the computer to put the message into permanent storage. He tried to call Maria, but her comm was locking out his calls. Maria would want a clean break. He could probably talk her out of it once, maybe twice, more. She didn't want him to.
He spent a few moments in relative silence, strok-
46
S. ANDREW SWANN
ing Cat and listening to the high-frequency hum of the comm.
Instead of turning the comm off, he called up Maria's message, and paused it. He paused it where the claw on the index finger of her right hand had caught a tear. The small sphere of liquid was nestled between the hook in her claw and the pad on her finger. It refracted the unnatural white of the streetlight behind her, causing arcs of light to emerge from one golden half-lidded eye.
It was the kind of image that made Nohar wish he had a scrap of romance in his soul.
CHAPTER 4
After a while, Nohar decided he had better things to do than stare at Maria. "Load program. Label, 'Log-on library.' "
"searching . . . found."
"Run program."
Maria's face disappeared as the computer started the access sequence. It showed the blue-and-white AT&T test pattern as it repeatedly buzzed the public library database, waiting for an open data channel. It was close to prime time for library access. It took nearly fifteen minutes for the comm to lock onto the library's mainframe.