Kham found her babbling unsettling, but he couldn't afford to let it show. The scuzboys were staring at her like she was their mama, and he noticed that each of them wore a silvered rat skull on a chain around his neck. They were hers, all right. Kham tried to be cool. "Don't know what you're talking about. I heard a chummer was having some trouble."
"You say he's your chummer, you the one gonna have some trouble," Adam said. "We give you the same treatment we gonna give him. But we gonna let you watch what we do to him so you'll know what we gonna do to you."
The scuzboy started forward and Kham dropped into a ready stance. Scatter slipped back between them and the scuzboy jerked back. Kham thought he saw a flicker of fear in the scuzboy's eyes when he looked at the rat shaman.
"No," Scatter said. "This is not a gutter matter. Take the breeder down to City Hall."
"Aw, no!" Adam protested. "He hurt Cholly and Akira!"
Scatter straightened, drawing herself to her full diminutive stature. Her hunched-forward head didn't turn. Though she continued to stare at Kham, there was no doubt she addressed the scuzboy. "A complaint. I thought I heard a complaint."
"No, Scatter," the scuzboy said quickly. "I ain't complaining. We'll do like you say. Right, guys?"
His companions nodded in agreement, and the scuzboys backed away a few steps before turning and hurrying to the now-struggling catboy. The smallest scuzboy lifted a paw to cuff Neko into submission, but was forestalled by a shrill cry from the rat shaman. "And no more damage to him!"
Kham saw Neko smile before planting a kick into the midriff of the one who had been about to cuff him. The ork yelped.
"Unless he resists," Scatter added.
Neko stopped resisting and submitted to being roughly helped to his feet. Wise, Kham thought as they led the catboy away. Scatter tugging on his arm, Kham followed. Ratstomper was nowhere to be seen.
The series of chambers called "city hall" was hardly what a topsider would recognize as government offices, but in the Underground they served. The reinforced walls and occasional weapon emplacement made it look like an armed camp. Knots of heavily armed orks congregated here and there, staring openly at the small procession, but the only time the ragtag parade was stopped was before a pair of large, iron-bound doors. The squad of trolls stationed there were obviously familiar with Scatter and the scuzboys, but they showed the shaman none of the deference the orks did. She almost lost her temper before they agreed to let her pass alone. It was only a few minutes before she returned and led the procession into a huge chamber lit poorly by scattered fixtures. At the far end of the room was a stepped platform, surmounted by a large chair that rose like a king's throne.
The chair was occupied.
As they marched the length of the hall, the man on the throne rose, but he did not face them. Instead he stared off to one side. Kham glanced in that direction and saw a group of women tending a gaggle of young orks. Across the hall was another group of armed orks. Both clumps were out of earshot of the throne, but they would be able to see everything that went on.
The big ork on the platform was more hunched than usual for his metatype, but the effect was one of coiled power rather than of bowed weakness. A cloak trimmed with human and metahuman scalps hung over those shoulders and concealed his body, but there could be no doubt that the hidden body was powerful. His head was large and his bald pate covered with warts. As they halted, he regarded them sidewise with one narrowed green eye for a minute before turning full-face to them. His other eye-blue, larger, and set at least a centimeter higher than the green one-opened as he turned. When he spoke, his voice was deep, resonant, and had the ring of authority.
"Why are you here?"
A grinning Scatter turned to Kham, but he decided that he wouldn't give her any satisfaction. Hoping his voice would stay steady, he said, "Hello, Harry."
"Hello, Kham," the ork with the mismatched eyes said softly.
The big scuzboy exchanged confused and worried glances with his fellows. "You know this topsider, Harry?"
"Yes, Adam, I know him. He's my grandson."
The scuzboys left in short order as soon as they untied Neko. The Green Band might have connections with Harry, but scuzboys knew families came before gangs. They wouldn't be getting their piece of Neko. At least not for a while.
Scatter was less polite. Without invitation, she followed as Harry led them to a small private chamber behind the throne, settling down on the floor by Harry's side after he took a seat in a battered but well upholstered chair. Everyone remained quiet while an old ork woman brought in a tray of refreshments.
Kham recognized her and his stomach clenched. When she offered him the tray, he was careful not to look at her face. Any other time the selection of treats would have been appetizing, but just now even his old favorite, fried cockroaches, made his stomach turn. The old woman moved on, allowing Neko to make a selection. Kham stood awkwardly before the chair, keeping his eyes on Harry and waiting for the old man to speak first. Harry downed a few of the treats and accepted a cup from the old woman before he spoke. Gesturing toward Neko with his cup, Harry said, "This is your friend, Kham. Are you going to vouch for him?"
Kham nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess so." "You remember what that means down here?" "Yeah."
"Does your friend know?" "I'll tell him."
Harry said nothing for a while, and Kham began to wonder if he was waiting for Kham to explain the situation to Neko. If he was, he'd have a long wait. A lot of what Kham would tell the catboy about local customs wouldn't be politic to say here in Harry's office. Fortunately, Neko held back his usual fragging curiosity and kept quiet. Maybe there was something to be said for Japanese manners after all. Finally Harry spoke again.
"You came back, but you didn't come to see us." That was so obvious Kham didn't bother to answer. What was he going to say, anyway? Harry's stare made him nervous.
"Something is bothering you, Kham, and it's not just whether this norm's gonna play by the rules. You wanta talk about it?" Kham shuffled his feet, feeling his usual embarrassment before Harry. The old ork always made Kham feel like a pup. The foot-shuffling trick was something he thought had been left behind when he'd left the Underground. Angry at himself for falling back into it, he forced himself to stand still. Squaring his shoulders, he said, "Maybe. Don't wanta interrupt any ting, dough. Ya got lotsa stuff ta do. Maybe some odder time when ya ain't so busy."
Harry gave him a hard look, then drained his cup. "I may not go topside," he said, balancing the empty vessel on the arm of his chair, "but I've got ears up there. It was your hall that burned. The 'bodies' of you and your crew that were found. I don't have to work hard to guess that this breeder is the 'young norm' whose body was found in your hall."
"If ya know every ting, ya don't need me ta tell ya about it."
"You're wrong, Kham." Harry leaned forward. "I do need you to talk to me. If you're bringing trouble down here, I need to know everything you know about it."
"The fix is in. Ain't gonna be no heat."
"You're sure?"
Kham shrugged an answer.
Harry frowned for a moment then turned to Neko. "Say, kid…"
"Neko," the catboy impudently prompted.
Harry frowned, caught off-guard.
"Call me Neko."
"Awright, kid, have it your way. Down here I can afford to be polite. This is my place, you know, and here the orks are in charge. Your kind doesn't belong here."
"I believe that I have been so informed," Neko said, pointedly rubbing at a developing bruise on his face. ' 'I have been introduced to your hospitality.''
"Oh, don't we sound annoyed." Harry chuckled, then called for more drink. The old woman brought him a refill and took a place on the side away from Scatter, settling down by Harry's chair and resting her head against the arm. Harry took a draught and said, "Well, I've had experience with your kind's hospitality, too."