"Yeah, that's good enough. Thanks."
"Oh, by the way, if he asks who sent you, don't mention my name."
"Any reason?" Rose lifted his hand and left the C-bill on the bar. Dillon scooped up the note in a smooth, practiced motion.
"Yeah. I don't think I want to be any part of what you're about to get yourself into. Nothing personal, you understand?"
"Shot goes wide and it's a clean miss."
7
Solaris City , Solaris
3 August 3054
"Jeremiah Rose, to see Mister Warwick."
Rose turned toward the security camera mounted high on the gate. Though there was little light this late in the day, he had no doubt the camera's operator could see him in vivid detail.
He'd met with Brachall the night before, a meeting brief and to the point, exactly the way Rose liked it. The man had turned out to be an entirely unpleasant fellow who charged Rose an astronomical fee to put him in contact with the "only man on Solaris still looking for a 'Mech pilot." Like every weasel Rose had ever known, Brachall could sense when another man was desperate. After a quick exchange of funds, Brachall was on the phone to Desmond Warwick, owner of the aptly named Warwick Stables. Twenty-four hours later Rose was standing in the drive of Warwick's home—or mansion, as it turned out. The estate was huge, with extensive, beautifully manicured grounds to match the imposing three-story villa that dominated the landscape.
The side gate buzzed open and Rose went on foot up to the building. The walk took well over ten minutes, but he was not surprised that no one came to escort him to the house. He felt like a beggar approaching the king's table, which was doubtless how Warwick intended him to feel.
With only a single day to learn whatever he could about his prospective employer, there hadn't been enough time to do a thorough investigation. The little Rose had been able to learn was that Desmond Warwick, like many wealthy members of Solaris society, had arrived on the game world already possessed of a sizable fortune. Although originally from Quincy in the Federated Commonwealth, he quickly became known as a man without loyalties, except, perhaps, loyalty to money and power. He'd started his stable modestly, competing only in the secondary circuits until his group of warriors had proven themselves against a variety of opponents. It was only last year that he'd become a minor player in the Solaris City circuit, but to date his team had yet to score any victories against the major stables. Yet, from what Rose could discover, Warwick sounded like an able manager employing some good talent and, more important, he was the owner of 'Mechs. Rose ran the facts over in his mind one last time as he knocked on the gigantic door. Midway through the second knock the door pulled open.
"Yes?" Rose was greeted by a towering doorman. Well over two meters tall, the ancient man's gray hair flowed with abandon over his elegant uniform. It was one of the rare times in Rose's life when he was forced to look up, rather than down, into someone's face. He hated that. Another point for Warwick.
"Jeremiah Rose. I have an invitation for dinner with Mister Warwick." The giant stepped aside and motioned Rose inside. The foyer was like something out of a dream. A marble floor and staircase were framed by gilt-framed paintings over teakwood paneling. Arches to either side of the stairway led into other parts of the house, providing glimpses of even more opulence. Everywhere Rose looked, the house screamed elegance and money. Having been forced to walk up the drive, then dwarfed by the doorman and overawed by the entryway, many another individual would have been intimidated by Warwick long before the man ever stepped into the room. Rose, however, had a reaction exactly opposite. The ire that had begun to build during the walk surged within him by the time of the greeting at the door. Now that he was in the house, it turned into a fury. How dare this man, who did not even know Rose, try to intimidate him, try to make him feel insignificant? Rose refused to let it work on him.
Or perhaps it worked only too well. Down on his luck, dispossessed, and frustrated, Rose had had enough. He wanted, or needed, a 'Mech, but not bad enough to put up with a man so obviously self-important. He felt like a caged animal standing in the elegant foyer. Although it had been only moments since he'd entered, Rose felt as if he couldn't stand it another instant. He was just turning toward the door when he heard a sound at the top of the steps.
"Mister Rose, how good of you to join me for dinner." Rose turned to look up at his host, instantly seeing how right he'd been about the man's self-importance. A tiny, little man, Warwick was dressed in a formal silk suit. A garment undoubtedly tailored to his diminutive frame, the suit's gray silk caught, then reflected, the light of the room, making Warwick appear almost to shine. His close-cropped black hair was perfectly in place, and the too-perfect white teeth threatened to dazzle Rose in a too-sincere smile. Warwick stopped on the third step, which made him slightly taller than Rose.
"I trust you had no trouble finding me."
Now it was Rose's turn to smile. "No trouble at all. Brachall was most explicit." Warwick's nose wrinkled as if what Rose said had an unpleasant smell. "In fact, I was pleasantly surprised to be able to find you as quickly and easily as I did." Warwick looked annoyed at the suggestion that it was easy to get to see him, especially in person. Turning away from Rose, he descended the final three steps and began to walk across the foyer.
"If you'll accompany me, we can begin our dinner. I'm sure you'll understand if I'm forced to dispense with some of the normal formalities. With the upcoming match, I suddenly find myself in much demand." Warwick began to lead Rose through the house, with only an occasional glance over his shoulder to make sure the other man was still following. Rose discovered, with some delight, that he could look over Warwick's head and still see perfectly.
"I should think you would find that very gratifying," Rose said, making Warwick stop suddenly and turn toward him.
"I beg your pardon, Mister Rose."
"Having your team in the upcoming match. I understand this is the first time you've placed a team in a Solaris City championship."
"Yes, it is quite an achievement. Considering this is only the second year my stable has been dueling in Solaris City, it isvery gratifying." Warwick turned back to face front, talking as he continued the trip to the dining room. Rose could barely keep from laughing aloud at the little man. Not only was he vain, but sensitive about it, too.
"I understand this is something unusual for Solaris City. Haven't the games always avoided team championships in the past?" Warwick turned and smiled back at Rose as he entered the dining room, where a waiter was quietly serving soup at two place settings.
So, thought Rose, I got to take the long road to the dining room. Like the other rooms of the house, this one was expensively, if gaudily, furnished with linen cloths, oak furniture, china place settings, and silver utensils. The soup, which seemed to be some kind of chowder, smelted delicious. Despite himself, Rose found his mouth watering. Warwick took the seat at the head of the table and motioned Rose to the place at his right.
"This is something of a new event for the city, I must admit," Warwick said as Rose took the offered chair and unfolded a linen napkin. Then Warwick crossed himself and mumbled into his chest, before resuming the thread of his discourse. "There have always been various kinds of team championships in the matches held outside the city, but the idea has never really caught on in the major circuit." Warwick paused to sample the still-steaming chowder. Rose did likewise and discovered it tasted even better than it smelled.