He stared, then blinked. Those fancy eyes of his looked stupid when they blinked. "Ah…" he said. "I thought the New York…"
He let it trail off.
I'd been expecting something like that, but I still couldn't really believe it. The adrenaline I'd built up in tackling Rigmus got to me, with no symbiote to cut it back, and I lost control. I shoved the gun under his nose. "You stupid, worthless piece of shit!" I screamed at him. "You coprophagous cretin! The New York wouldn't touch me with a goddamn run of scrubware! Don't you know anything? Are you too dumb to ask anyone a simple question? I can't get work in the Trap. I haven't been able to for years!"
He stammered something, but I wasn't listening. He was backed against the bed, his knees starting to buckle as my gun forced him back.
"I wasn't investigating you, or Nakada, or the Ipsy-I was hired to find out why somebody was trying to collect rent in the West End! I was hired by a bunch of squatters, you poor fool! That's all! You could swindle Nakada out of her liver, and I wouldn't have cared, if you hadn't hassled the squatters out there! You… you…"
I ran out of words and felt my finger tightening on the trigger; I forced it to loosen, forced myself to calm down. I stepped back and lowered the gun, and then I took a deep breath.
He sat down on the bed. "So what do you want?" he asked, his voice unsteady.
"It's simple," I told him. "I want you to stop hassling me. I want you to stop hassling the squatters, even if it means you have to pay Nakada's rents out of your share of the take from your scam. I want guarantees on both of those, recorded with the city and with the cops-we can word it so we don't have to incriminate anybody. I want it understood that if you ever come near me again I'm going to use this gun, without warning, and plead self-defense with those kidnapping records to back me up. I want all of that from both you and Rigmus, and if you can get it, from Doc Lee and the others at the Ipsy. If you can't get it from them, tell me, and I'll go talk it over with them. I know your scheme to stop the city is phony, and you can tell them that I know, and I can prove it. I don't want them trying any stupid demonstrations for Nakada-if you can't string her any farther just with words, then take your money and exit, don't try and push your luck, or I'll see that you regret it. And I want you to know that if you try to kill me again, even if you succeed, you're dead meat. I'm not stupid enough to make a play like this without backup, not when you've taken one shot at me already. These three aren't the only friends I've got. You got all that?"
He nodded. "I've got it."
"Any problem with any of it?"
"No," he said, and he shook his head. "No problem."
I smiled. "There!" I said. "That wasn't so bad, was it? There is one more little detail, but we'll get to that in a minute. First I want to see you make those guarantees I mentioned." I pointed toward a nearby screen and jack. "Go to it."
He did. I think I'd made an impression; he didn't try anything at all, did it all up properly. The contracts didn't mention reasons-they just stated that Paul Orchid undertook to remove himself and any agents in his employ from all self-initiated contact with Carlisle Hsing and with all persons resident within a half-kilometer radius of the intersection of Western and Wall. Breach of contract would be punishable to the fullest extent of the law-and in Nightside City, with its casino-based economy, that was plenty.
The muscle with the claws dragged Rigmus in, more or less conscious, jacked him in, and had him thumb his copies of the same agreements.
Then Orchid called the Ipsy and relayed my messages to Doc Lee. "She means it," he told them.
And I did mean it, every word of it, except the bit about the victim's privilege.
Lee seemed shaken, but he swallowed and smiled and agreed, then put it on record over the com. Each of the five others then took a turn doing the same. Nobody gave me any back talk this time.
When that was taken care of I said, "All right, Orchid, just one more detail, and you and your woman can get back to what you were doing, if I haven't spoiled the mood."
The woman made a noise, but I ignored it. This wasn't her business. The muscle with fangs still had his gun at her throat, and that was fine with me. I didn't know anything about her; for all I knew, if he hadn't had the gun there, she might have jumped me. Of course, attacking me would have been stupid, but I had serious doubts about the good sense of anyone I found in bed with Paulie Orchid-particularly someone dressed like that. Her outfit was mostly greens, which went nicely with her skin but clashed with the room she was in, and it floated off in various directions, giving fleeting glimpses of bare flesh-not exactly your practical garment.
"All right, Hsing," Orchid said, resigned. "What is it? What's the detail?"
"Set me up a date with Sayuri Nakada," I said. "I want to talk to her."
He gaped at me, but he didn't have much choice. He made the call.
Chapter Nineteen
I DON'T KNOW WHY I WANTED TO SEE NAKADA IN PERSON, but I did. It was important to me, somehow.
We met on neutral ground. We met at a little breakfast bar on Second, in the middle of Trap Over. I was sitting there waiting, with Mishima's muscle quiet in the background, when Nakada walked in with a piece of muscle of her own and an entourage of floaters.
She didn't recognize me until I called her name.
"Mis' Nakada! Over here!"
She came and looked down at me. "What the hell happened to your hair?"
"Long story," I said. "You wouldn't be interested."
She shrugged and sat down.
I pointed at her muscle, a big guy with sleek, hairless black skin that might or might not have been armored. If it was armored, it was a better job than Mishima's bunch could afford. "Do we need him?" I asked.
She glanced back at him, then waved him away. He went to wait outside-there wasn't room in the bar.
Most of the floaters went with him; one stayed, a little golden multipurpose job, and I decided not to argue about it. After all, even if it left, Nakada still had implants down to the marrow, and I couldn't make her leave those outside.
The bar delivered my tea and puffcake, and I asked if she wanted anything. She shook her head.
"All I want," she said, "is to know why you got me down here."
I didn't answer directly. "How's the project going?" I asked.
She scowled at me. "The project?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said. "You know, the one that's going to make you rich."
She didn't like my manners, that was obvious, but she answered. "Bad," she said. "They hit some kind of snag in the mapping data. Everything's been delayed."
I nodded sympathetically. 'Too bad," I said. "Remember your promise that you'd let me know when the date's set."
"I remember," she said.
I was playing this by guess, plugging in values as I went, I wasn't sure at all what I was doing, why I was there, or why Nakada was there. I just knew that I had to talk to her, and here I was, talking to her.
The obvious question was whether I should tell her that she was being rooked. The obvious answer was yes; I mean, why the hell not? I didn't owe Orchid and Lee anything.
And I wasn't sure it would make any difference. Hell, there was a good chance the whole scam was about to fall apart anyway. My own opinion was that if Orchid was running smooth he'd clear out, take what he'd gotten so far, and get off-planet without trying to bleed any more juice out of anyone.