“Ah, but which conspiracy? The right? The left? Fundamentalists? There are so many.”
Ronnie sat next to me. “Don’t make fun of me, Cy. This is something I’ve always felt very strongly about.”
“I can see that.”
“If they can kill a man like that, what hope is there for someone else to come along and take his place?”
“That’s a pretty bleak thought.”
“I believed in him. I volunteered with the campaign. When I wasn’t studying, I was campaigning. It was my whole life.”
“That’s not much of a life. Living only for other people.”
She didn’t say anything. I felt bad about arguing with her. It was pretty obvious I had cut her to the quick.
“I’m sorry. I have a talent for being argumentative.” It comes with a philosophy degree. Or maybe people who argue just tend toward philosophy. And sometimes they become lawyers. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that.
Veronica stared at me and, deciding I was worthy of continuing the conversation, began, “My parents died in an explosion. I wasn’t really raised by family so much as shipped off to school. I loved learning, but people came and went in and out of my life too much. When Senator Anderson came to town, I found a family in his other supporters. And I really believed in him.”
I took her hand, stroking her fingers as they rested in my palm. “He had a heart attack. It happens.”
She waved her hand over the papers on her cot. “I’ve been researching his death for years. I’m convinced he was murdered. And someday I will prove it.”
“And you are doing this in addition to your thesis? That’s a lot to take on.”
She nodded. “Well, as you’ve seen, I don’t have much of a social life. Mongolia is the first time I’ve been outside the United States.”
“I hope you’ve learned something here.” And I did, too.
“Yes and no.” Ronnie didn’t add to that, and I decided not to push her.
“I’ll help you.” Now, why did I say that? That was strange.
Her eyes flicked up to mine. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’ll help you. I’ll help you with your thesis, and I’ll help you with your investigation.”
She stood up quickly. “Why? Why would you do that?”
I stood also. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve been a dick. Maybe because I have feelings for you. Maybe I’ve been knocked on my ass too much lately. The fact is, I said I’d help you and I will.”
Veronica threw her arms around me. “Thanks, Cy.”
As I buried my face in her hair, I wondered what the hell I’d gotten myself into.
“The naadam is just a few days away,” Chudruk was telling me as I nursed a bruised shoulder. Zerleg, Zolbin and I were now training together, and those boys were a lot younger than I was.
“I know. Look, I didn’t plan to win. I just wanted the experience,” I managed through gritted teeth. My shoulder might have been sprained. And that would suck.
He shook his head. “That is obvious.” He ducked as I playfully tossed my hat at him. “ Yalta wants you to stop messing around with Veronica.”
He had my attention now. “What?”
A wide grin spread across his face. “It will sap your strength.” He punctuated his less-than-great news with a shrug.
“Oh. I see.” And I did. It was a typical requirement made of fighters in all types of disciplines, from boxing to martial arts. The idea was that sex before a fight took away your aggression, making you weak.
“No problem,” I said, rising to my feet. “Tell my zazul not to worry.”
Chudruk laughed as he walked away. He laughed even harder as he passed a very red-faced Ronnie as she came toward me.
“You’ll never guess what Odgerel just told me!”
“That we had to cool it on the sex until after the naadam?” I answered casually, as if I was asking for the time.
You know, I didn’t think it was possible for a person to turn purple with embarrassment. Huh. I guess you really do learn something new every day.
“How…how…” the poor thing attempted.
“Because I just had the same conversation with Chudruk.”
Veronica turned to look at the retreating man. “So that’s why he laughed.” She turned back to me. “Cy, this is humiliating! You mean to tell me they all know?”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “Really, Ronnie. We’re not in high school. This is hardly scandalous information here.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we are adults. And in most cultures around the world, sex is a natural and casual thing.” I felt a spike of pain in my shoulder and started to rub it.
Veronica walked around me and rubbed my shoulder for me. “Are you saying I’m a prude?”
“Yes.” Uh-oh. The massage stopped. “And no.” It started up again. “You certainly have no problem getting in the mood. But I think your experience with the way other cultures see sex is somewhat limited.”
She said nothing, so I continued. “Remember your reaction to hearing about my sexual past?”
“Yes. I was shocked by the fact that you were some sort of gigolo.”
That made me laugh. “A gigolo? I never accepted money. I think of it more as a rock star with groupies.”
I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was rolling her eyes behind me.
“Oh, yeah. A carney is just the same thing as a rock star.” Was it possible to actually see sarcasm as it floated past you in the air?
“Well, something like that. Anyway, you just have to get past those Midwestern morals and loosen up.”
She slapped me on the shoulder. It took everything I had not to wince. “I admit I’m a bit conservative about sex. And I admit that the romance of this place had its way with my mind…and body.” She walked around to face me. “But I will certainly have no problem with celibacy over the next few days.” Ronnie stuck her tongue out at me and walked away, swaying her hips as she went.
Somehow, I had the feeling that the gauntlet had been thrown. And I was going to lose.
Chapter Sixteen
Tony Stark: They say that the best weapon is the one you never have to fire. I respectfully disagree. I prefer the weapon you only have to fire once. That’s how Dad did it, that’s how America does it…and it’s worked out pretty well so far.
– IRON MAN
Zolbin, Zerleg and I wrestled the rest of the afternoon. My shoulder burned with pain, but I blocked it out mentally. After a few hours I was favoring my good shoulder, and the boys were exploiting my injury to their advantage. Not that I could blame them. As Yalta had explained, any opponent would do the same thing.
After soaking in the ice-cold stream for a while, I wet a T-shirt and wrapped it around my joint. All the way back to my ger, I thought of nothing but the extra-strength aspirin I had smuggled in for something just like this. In combination with some hot tea and rest, I should be better in the morning.
I stepped into my tent and shut the door. Ronnie was playing with Sartre on a blanket on the floor. My mind was absorbed with finding the painkillers, and once I swallowed them, I sank down on my cot and unwrapped the rag from my shoulder. It was swollen and sore. But the meds would take care of that. I turned my attention to my tentmate and stopped cold.
Ronnie smiled seductively. How I’d failed to notice she was naked was beyond comprehension. The woman was actually nude on a blanket in front of me. I started toward her.
She held up her hand to stop me. “No sex, remember?”
I started to peel off my shorts. “Oh, I’m not worried about that superstition.”
“But I am. And no means no.”
“Then why are you laid out like a flesh buffet?” I loosened the stays on the shuudag.