‘Could buy and sell the Republic of Texas, even in my day,’ Major Moyra agreed. ‘But they don’t mess with human politics much. Ain’t that so, Mr Oakenhurst?’
‘That’s so, major.’
‘Built for a giant and furnished for dwarves,’ mused Jasmine Shah, making her own tour.
The atmosphere was one of general bonhomie as the would-be murderers saw their end-game laid out, already won.
Their adversaries’ confidence could be useful to them, Sam Oakenhurst decided, and later in their own cabin, Rose von Bek told him she had decided the same. ‘Their eagerness and anticipation can become our weapon. But it is three days to Biloxi. When will he strike, do you think?’
Sam Oakenhurst made a lazy gesture. He thought it would not be immediately. For the first time he was calmly ready for death. He did not much care how he died. He also knew that he could not accept death while his obligation to the Rose remained. He must make himself worthy of her.
She detected a certain heaviness in his manner. He assured her that he had never been on better form.
While a blankey, smelling strongly of meat, prepared their bed, Sam Oakenhurst said aloud: ‘If Paul Minct hopes to seduce whiteys to his cause he cannot know the machinoix. This fellow and his kind are as loyal to their masters as anyone can be. Disobedience or treachery is inconceivable to them. They would be disgusted and terrified if it was suggested. The machinoix never put their own to work on the meat boats. They trust their whiteys absolutely. There is no reason why they should not.’
‘Paul Minct must have some understanding of this. How does he think he can force them to divert the boat and sail into the Fault?’ The Rose shook her head.
‘Whether or not he plans to enter the Fault, he is without a doubt planning to trap us. He cannot see how we can escape and is happy to take his time. Yet why should he go to such lengths to kill you, Rose?’
‘He must be certain. And it is in his nature to make such plots. He knows that I have pursued him through the myriad branches of the multi verse and that I am of the Just. I must put an end to him, if I can. Betrayal is a sophisticated and legitimate art which he practises merely for the pleasure it gives him. But he has another ambition I cannot fathom, as yet.’
‘What did he do to you that you must punish him?’ Sam Oakenhurst asked.
‘He educated me to betray myself and thus to betray my people. ‘ She spoke softly, economically, as if she could not trust her voice for long. ‘The story I gave at Brown’s was true.’
‘And these other stories? Are they true? What we saw at Poker Flats?’
‘Myths,’ she said. ‘True enough. They describe the truth.’
‘And what does Paul Minct describe?’
‘Only lies, Sam.’
With hideous dignity the whitey bowed and left the cabin.
18. MON BON VIEUX MARI
‘WE WERE CALLED the daughters of the Garden, the daughters of the Just,’ she told him. ‘We reproduced ourselves by the occasional effort of will. We understood the principles of self-similarity. I suppose you would call it an instinct. There is no particular miracle in being, as we were, part flora, part mammal. Such syntheses are common to the worlds I usually inhabit. Paul Minct made me cross so many scales and forget so many lives to reach him. The stories are always a little different. But this time, I think, we shall achieve some kind of resolution.’
‘Surely, we are something more than mere echoes... ?’ Yet even as he said this Sam Oakenhurst felt oppression lifting from him and a rare peace replacing it. In combination with what the machinoix had given him, he found still more strength. He had reached a kind of equilibrium. At that moment nothing was puzzling. But was this merely an illusion of control? What she had told him should have dismayed him. Had her madness completely absorbed him?
‘Our science was the science of equity,’ she continued. ‘We were the natural enemies of all tyrannies, no matter how well disguised. Our world occupied a universe of flowers; blossoms and leaves were woven between blooms the size of planets. Paul Minct allied himself with a devolved race whom we knew as Babbyboys and these he ultimately unleashed upon our world. Just before he committed that crime he was lover and I taught him all our secrets.’
‘And your sisters?’
‘Our whole universe was raped. I am the last of it.’
Until then Sam Oakenhurst had been unable to imagine a burden greater than his own.
19. DANS LE COEUR DE LA VILLE
‘WE ARE PLAYING charades, do you see!’ Paul Minct’s mask glittered with a kind of merriment. ‘Major Moyra is in the part of Little Fanny Fun, while Manly Mark Male is played by our own dashing Jasmine Shah! But who shall play the rival? Who shall play Handsome Harry Ho-Ho? You know this one, Mr Oakenhurst, I’m sure.’
‘Those tales no longer fascinate me, Mr Minct.’ Sam Oakenhurst stood just within the cabin door. The three would-be murderers had pushed away furniture and draperies and made a stage of a broad, ebony table, its legs carved with a catalogue of machinoix delights. It was on this that the two performed, while their superior applauded from an asymmetrical couch he had made comfortable with the sanctuary’s afterlife cushions.
‘This is disrespectful to your hosts.’
‘Oh, Mr Oakenhurst, we shall not be going back to New Orleans! We’re on our way to the Fault to find the Holy Grail, remember?’ Major Moyra bawled in open contempt and unhitched her gaudy skirts.
The Rose stepped up, anxious to end this. ‘Crude entertainment for a mind such as yours, Paul Minct. Or is this merely a leitmotif ?’
‘You are too judgemental, Mrs von Bek.’ Paul Minct turned his glaring mask this way and that as if he could barely see through the holes. ‘You must be more flexible. Only flexibility will enable you to survive the perils of the Fault. Come now, join our little time-passer. Choose a character of your own. Pearl Peru? The Spammer Gain? Corporal Pork? Karl Kapital?’
‘I have nothing further to take from this,’ said Sam Oakenhurst. ‘And nothing to put in. Play on, pards, and don’t mind me.’
‘Play for the hell of it, then!’ Jasmine Shah sprawled her painted legs over the table. ‘Play. Play. What else is there to do, Mr Oakenhurst?’ Her yellow eyes were sluggish with guilty appetites. His anticipated death was making her salivate. ‘Taste something fresh.’
The killing ritual was beginning. And so they sat obediently until they were called and Mr Oakenhurst was a somewhat wooden Harry Ho-Ho, while the Rose became Pearl Peru to the life, telling the first tale of The Spammer Gain and how her fishlings were stolen. Enough to distract Paul Minct a little and make him clap his pale hands together. ‘You are a natural actress, Mrs von Bek. You missed your vocation.
‘I think not,’ she said.
‘There, pards, we’ve proved ourselves easy sports,’ announced Sam Oakenhurst, ‘but now we must come to business. We are here to discuss the part of our plan where we take over the meat boat. Are the whiteys bribed, yet?’ Mr Oakenhurst found himself again speaking from impulse. His tone was sufficient to let the enmascaro know that Sam Oakenhurst was making a call.
‘Not yet,’ said Paul Minct easily. ‘There’s time enough, Mr Oakenhurst. Let us relax.’
‘We no longer accept you as our director.’ The Rose swung down from the table as Paul Minct, gloating in a supposed small victory, displayed his surprise. But he recovered quickly.
‘Here’s a better game than I anticipated.’ Mr Minct calmed his two shadows with a casual hand. They were both thoroughly alarmed. Evidently they had not once considered a play made at the opponents’ convenience.