I decided to try the direct and honest approach. "Mis' Nakada, have you ever really looked at the scheme the Ipsy's selling you?"
She looked at me. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, doesn't it sound too good to be true? Have you checked it over to see whether it would really work? Have you discussed it with anyone, run their claims through any analytical software?"
She stared at me. "I don't understand what you're getting at."
"I'm getting at the question of whether Doc Lee and his bunch can actually do what they say they can," I said.
She almost snarled. "Of course they can," she said. "Lee's a top planetologist. His team's all top experts."
"Experts can lie, Mis' Nakada," I said.
"What do you mean?" she said.
"I mean that it's all a trick, a sham," I told her. "They can't stop the city, any more than anyone else can. They're conning you. They're just taking your money and tucking it away on Prometheus. You don't have to believe me; get any planetologist you like to come and take a look, and you'll see. They're swindling you."
She glared at me with a look that was about the closest I've ever seen to pure hatred. "You're lying. You're the one trying to con me."
"No, I'm not," I said. "I'm telling the truth."
"You're lying," she insisted. "Why would they cheat me?"
"For the money, of course," I told her.
"No," she said. "You're lying, that's all." Then she looked as if a brilliant idea occurred to her. "Did somebody hire you to get them away from me?" she demanded. "To get them to work for someone else?"
"No," I said. "Nobody hired me."
"Somebody did," she said. "Somebody's trying to stop me."
"Think what you like," I said, amazed at her ability to deny reality when it clashed with her desires.
I'd tried. I'd tried honesty, tried telling her what was happening. If she didn't accept it, it wasn't my fault. I'd done my full duty to truth and justice. Sayuri Nakada deserved to be swindled if anyone ever did; I could almost sympathize with Orchid, seeing all that money in the hands of someone like her.
Of course, if she checked up later and cut Orchid and Lee and the rest off, or got them sent up for reconstruction, I wouldn't weep.
Right now, though, I had one more thing I realized I had to discuss with her, and maybe it was something I should have dealt with before I antagonized her. I had a client to take care of. Just because Paulie and Bobo weren't going to be making the rounds in the West End didn't mean nobody would.
"There's one other thing," I said, casually. "I probably should have mentioned it the first time, but you know how it is, things can slip your mind."
She just glared. Maybe she didn't know how it is, with all the implants she must have had keeping her up to date. Or maybe she just didn't want to admit she knew.
"There's a little matter of some people I know," I said. "Living out in the West End in some of the buildings you bought."
"Squatters," she said.
I nodded. "You could call them that," I agreed.
"Burakumin!" she spat. "Abid! A bunch of social gritware. They pay rent or they get out; I don't want them around when I start cleaning up out there."
I held up a hand. "Mis' Nakada," I said, "I think you're overreacting. They aren't such bad people."
I was lying; they were scum. But they were also paying clients.
"What are they to you?" she asked.
"Friends," I lied. "And I don't want them evicted."
"I do," she said, and she was pretty damn definite about it. I guessed right then that collecting rents hadn't been Orchid's idea at all, but hers. I doubted Orchid had known just how much trouble collecting that stupid rent would buy him, but at least he hadn't come up with it on his own.
"Mis' Nakada," I said, "I hope you'll reconsider."
"Why should I?" she demanded.
"Because if you don't, I'll put everything I know about the little plan you have the Ipsy working on on the public nets. That could cut into your profits pretty badly, having the word get out too soon."
"That's blackmail," she said.
I shrugged. "You could call it that, I suppose," I admitted. "I have a chunk of information; I can hand it out free, or I can sell you the dissemination rights. If you want to call that blackmail, suit yourself. Which do you want? Do I put it on the nets or not?"
"No!" she said, sharp and hard.
"Then we make a deal," I said. "We can put it in writing. I'm not looking for anything permanent, just a little time for my friends to get relocated. I'll agree not to release to the public or anyone except partners or immediate family any information I may have concerning your investment plans or dealings with nonprofit scientific organizations, and I'll bind all partners and immediate family to the same commitment. In exchange, you'll agree that you will not attempt to collect any rents on property in the West End for, shall we say, three years?"
"That's too long," she snapped.
"All right," I said. "Until you're ready to refurbish the buildings, or three years, whichever comes first. The day your repair crews arrive, the squatters will be out; how's that sound?"
"How do I know you won't make more demands?" she asked.
"That's in my end of the agreement," I said. "If I spread the word, or if I demand anything more, then I'm in breach of contract-and you and I both know what the penalties are for that in Nightside City. I'm not interested in a term of indenture, or in selling body parts."
She thought for a minute, then nodded. "All right," she said.
That little golden floater had all the necessary equipment for the contract, and in fifteen minutes we had shaken hands and left.
I don't know where she went. I went home to my office. I thanked Mishima's muscle and let them fend for themselves; I didn't see that I needed them anymore.
The case was over, as far as I could see. I sat at my desk and ran through the records, making notes, seeing if I'd missed anything. I didn't see that I had. My contract was to stop the new owner from evicting the squatters; I had Nakada's agreement recorded and sealed. Side issues had been to find out who was doing what, and why, and I had all that figured out. Orchid and Rigmus had tried to kill me, but I had it set so they wouldn't try again.
It looked smooth. I started clearing everything out of the com's active memory.
Then the com beeped and I touched keys, and Mishima's face appeared.
"Hello, Hsing," he said.
"Hello, Mishima," I replied.
"So how'd it go?" he asked.
"How did what go?" I said.
"Your little talk with Sayuri Nakada-how'd it go?"
I wasn't terribly happy to hear him ask that. I was beginning to have second or third thoughts about any sort of partnership with Mishima. I'd always worked alone, my own way and at my own speed; having a partner checking up on me did not carry a lot of appeal. It had seemed wonderful when I was lying in a hospital bed with new eyes and my new skin still baby-slick, feeling vulnerable, with no idea how I could face down Orchid and the others all by myself, but now I began to see drawbacks.
I still appreciated the loan of the muscle, not to mention the medical bills and the detail that Mishima had ventured out onto the dayside to rescue me, and I could see virtues in the arrangement, but I didn't like being called to account like that.