I had ulterior motives in bringing Valia. I wanted an extra set of eyes, but I also wanted to throw off the perv Hobardi in our negotiations. I knew he would be enthralled with Valia, not just because she was good-looking, but because she was a Kommilaire. There were other female Kommilaire, it was true, but they tended to be a little on the butch side with five o’clock shadows and deep voices.
An absurdly tall and thin man wearing sunglasses walked to meet us. He was Hobardi’s mutant. My nose didn’t work well, but he smelled bad.
“What do you want with the Grandmaster?” he asked without laughing. That might have been his mutant ability: to refer to a charlatan as a “Grandmaster” and not smile. His very dour expression made it clear he was not kept around as comic relief.
“To learn at his feet,” I said, also without laughing.
“You the guy that fought those Dredel Led?” Which I thought was a weird thing to ask.
“Sure,” I answered.
He wordlessly walked with us to the next room, which was primarily occupied by a large, heated pool. There were recliners and exotic flowers and trees in here as well.
The room made me uncomfortable, as my body was not able to regulate its temperature well and it was unbearably hot and humid.
Hobardi walked up to us wearing a bathing suit. He was a fit man, muscular and tan. I heard he took all kinds of drugs and went through all kinds of surgeries and procedures to stay fit and attractive. It was much easier being a cult leader when you were handsome.
Which left me out of the religion business.
He wore necklaces and rings and talismans but they were unobtrusive. He had high cheekbones, perfect hair, and his constant smile was so white you could probably bounce lasers off his teeth.
“Hank, good of you to come,” he said.
He held out his hand in some gesture, probably out of habit. I can’t remember if his disciples kissed or bowed or what, but it didn’t matter to me, I wasn’t his disciple.
I merely nodded.
“Who is your friend?” he asked, his eyes glowing with interest.
I was really hot. I could shrug off missiles but a mist of warm water was incapacitating me. This was pretty humiliating.
“My name is Valia,” she said, noticing my struggle.
I was worried my condition was going to undermine my negotiations, but Valia again covered and she snapped off the top button of her coat and flung her hair around.
“You’ll have to excuse us, we’re not dressed for this sauna,” she said sultrily.
Hobardi probably didn’t even notice I was there at that point.
“Valia. A beautiful name,” he said. “Come then, let’s retire to a more comfortable area.”
Valia, Hobardi, and the mutant walked out as I followed behind, wiping the moisture from my face.
Valia and Hobardi reclined on a couch in another room as I stood there trying to catch my breath. The mutant was impassive in his sunglasses. Valia had really taken over the situation and was flirting in her dominant manner with Hobardi, who looked almost like easy prey.
I took a moment to squirt some food into my mouth, which helped. I’d been told in no uncertain terms that I looked “disgusting” while I was eating the greenish paste. Which was fine, food didn’t need to be pretty.
“Right,” I began. “I need you to rescind the Brotherhood Commandment.”
I think everyone had forgotten me.
“What?” Hobardi asked.
“Your Brotherhood Commandment. ‘No member of the Order shall harm another member of the Order.’ It makes policing this city impossible.”
Hobardi smiled serenely.
“I merely interpret the Will of the Prophet,” he said nonsensically.
I couldn’t call him full of crap in his own temple, but he had made the Commandment specifically to make it difficult for my Kommilaire. His Order had their own police force and they sure as hell didn’t dispense brotherly love—unless it was compassion that led them to speed their adversaries into the blessed afterlife.
Already I had instances where my Stair Boys had refused to act against other Order members and it had caused people to get hurt. I couldn’t have external groups exerting influence from within the Kommilaire. Not only did it make our jobs that much harder, but it might make us lose that last hair of credibility which turned the citizens on us.
“I think you want to work with me on this. I can’t protect you, otherwise,” I said.
“Protection? We are a peaceful religion,” he said, flanked by his mutant bodyguard, in a part of the city blockaded by his paramilitaries.
“Maybe we can do something for you,” Valia said, dragging her fingernails across his jawbone and making him raise his head like a cat being stroked.
“Are you planning on running for Governor in the election?” he asked me.
“No. Who the hell would want that job?”
“Me. I want you to back me for the position.”
“I’m not backing anyone. No one even knows what the job does. What if we decide the Governor has to sweep the streets?”
Hobardi paused to think of another angle.
“If you’re not backing anyone, then help with the Olmarr Republic. They’ve kidnapped a member of my personnel. I want you to get him back.”
“How do you know it was them? People go missing all the time. Despite our best efforts, this is still a dangerous city.”
“They told us they had him right after he disappeared.”
“Oh. That seems odd. Why would they take him? Who is he?”
“A member of my church. Two Clem.”
“Two Clem?” I asked, surprised. “The actor? He’s still alive?”
Two Clem had been a big shot celebrity like a hundred years ago. I mean really famous. Funny hair and funny pants and starred in dramas. I had never seen his work but I had pulled a job for him once back when Belvaille was in the state of Ginland. I hadn’t thought about him much since then, but I assumed he was dead or had left Belvaille or both.
“Yes, he’s alive,” Hobardi answered, irritated. “He’s a very important figure for the Order. Especially in communicating our message off-station.”
“What?” I said, honestly confused.
Then I remembered that the Sublime Order of Transcendence had actually managed to spread to places other than Belvaille. The religion was such a joke that it was hard for me to imagine anyone taking it seriously out of the poverty-stricken confines of gullible Belvaille.
I suppose it made sense that he would use a celebrity, or former celebrity, to help him endorse his wares. I wonder if Two Clem actually believed in the Order. Two Clem didn’t like to share the spotlight and neither did Hobardi. Seemed an unusual fit.
“I can talk to the Olmarr—” I started.
“I don’t want you to talk. I want you to get my people back and kill Peush,” he said, who was the leader of the Olmarr Republic faction on Belvaille.
“Who do you think I am?”
Hobardi leaned forward on the couch, his eyes hard.
“I think you’re Hank, and I know exactly who you are.”
CHAPTER 10
I was at my apartment trying to trim my toenails.
It wasn’t as easy as you might think. I couldn’t reach them for one. Not even close. And there was nothing that could cut them. If I shot them with a high-powered rifle, I’d just have mashed bullets all over my feet.
I had a file I was using. But it took a long time and was tiring. I could get someone else to do this, I guess, but I’d just feel like a pampered idiot having someone else hack away at my feet for hours.
The doorbell rang and I was thankful to put off my foot duty for a bit.