—
A handful of the nearest booths in the convoluted floor pattern had openings which faced the door.
Lathe and Skyler let a waiter take them to one of those, ordered a beer apiece, and settled down to wait.
"We're sure spending a lot of time on this mission hanging around bars," Skyler noted as they waited for their detox tablets to neutralize any potential drugs in their drinks. "You think he'll come alone?"
Lathe shrugged. "That is the question, isn't it? It may depend on how deeply they're involved with the criminal element in town."
"That barman—Phelling—talked about them drumming up business here. Could be the local criminals keep them informed on potential collie targets."
"You really believe that?"
Skyler smiled lopsidedly. "Probably not. Though if they've really quit the war to become mercenaries they're taking an awful risk on Jensen's righteous indignation."
"We'll save that threat for our trump card," Lathe said dryly.
"Right."
Conversation lagged, and Lathe took the opportunity to study their booth and its surroundings. From the shoulders up they were shielded from the rest of the room only by the privacy plastic—which, while not even remotely bulletproof, at least fogged images enough to make aiming difficult. The booth's seatback was thick enough to provide a somewhat better shield, though again its strength was dubious. The table itself bothered him more. Thick and heavy, it was bolted solidly to the floor via a metallic central stem. An immediate and formidable obstacle to a fast exit from the booth, should such a move become necessary. He was surreptitiously testing the strength of its connectors when Skyler cleared his throat. "I believe this is our company arriving now."
Lathe looked up. Moving toward them from the anteroom was a slim oriental man. He stepped to the edge of their privacy shield, glanced at Skyler, then turned his attention to Lathe. "I'm Lonato Kanai," he said, raising right hand to left shoulder in formal blackcollar salute. His dragonhead had the vertically slit eyes of an ordinary commando.
"Comsquare Damon Lathe," Lathe said, returning the salute. "Commando Rafe Skyler. Sit down."
Kanai did so, something in his face and movements suggesting wariness. "I suppose we might as well dispense with the obvious question of where you came from," he said, "and go right to the important one: why are you here?"
"Here in Denver or here in the Shandygaff?" Lathe asked.
Kanai smiled faintly. "Either, or both."
"We hear you're for hire. We want some details."
The smile vanished. "We handle... difficult jobs for our clients," he said, his voice oddly stiff.
"Penetration, goods recovery, intelligence—"
"Against whom?" Skyler interrupted.
Kanai's lip twitched. "Against whomever the client wants."
"Government targets?" Skyler persisted. "Rival criminal bosses? Or just ordinary citizens who get out of line?"
Kanai's brow darkened. "We don't touch the ordinary citizens," he growled. "Ever. Only those in charge."
"The government?" Lathe asked.
"The government isn't in charge in Denver," Kanai snorted. "The roachmen keep pretty much to Athena while the parasites run the city."
"Parasites like Manx Reger?"
"Like him and a dozen more. He's furious with you for whatever you did to his men this morning, incidentally. You'd better stay clear of northwestern Denver."
"I'll keep that in mind," Lathe said. "Why doesn't the government do something about these organizations?"
Kanai eyed him. "You are new here. The roachmen don't do anything because they can't. Organized crime was entrenched in Denver long before the war, and it would cost billions to eradicate it."
"And the people as a whole can't do anything?"
"The people generally accept it." Kanai shrugged. "You have to understand that the bosses here are parasites but not bloodsuckers. They want long-term profits, not a dead city. Their payment scale runs lower even than the roachmen's taxes—which in turn are lower here than in a lot of other areas because there aren't as many official government services. In exchange the bosses provide protection for their clients, certain financial services, and other benefits. It really does qualify as an invisible government—and at ten percent or less of their income most people consider it a fair bargain."
"Reger's men were charging twenty-five percent," Skyler murmured.
"Spot-market rates," Kanai said. "Must have thought you were outsiders trying to move in."
"How long has this system been running?" Lathe asked.
"Openly, since the end of the war. Covertly, probably a lot longer. As I said, the people here generally accept the situation."
"Like they accept the Ryqril," Skyler said. "No wonder Torch can only draw the lunatic fringe."
"Torch?" Kanai's eyes narrowed. "Have you been in contact with them?"
"Not yet. But we've heard stories about them."
Kanai relaxed again. "Oh. Well, your stories are old ones, I'm afraid. Torch disappeared about five years ago. I thought for a minute they'd come back."
"Destroyed?"
"If so, it was done with remarkable finesse. We had some slight contact with them, and as far as we could tell they simply up and vanished."
Lathe stroked his dragonhead gently. "You were working with them before that?"
Kanai shifted slightly in his seat. "Not working, exactly. We occasionally exchanged information, but they were too radical for our taste."
"They believed in outmoded stuff like overthrowing the Ryqril?" Skyler asked coldly.
Kanai returned the other's gaze steadily, but there was tension around his mouth. "I know what you're thinking," he told Skyler quietly. "But you're wrong. We haven't given up the fight, just switched tactics. When the time is right, we'll make our move."
"Glad to hear it," Lathe said. "Because the time is right."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we're on an important mission here, and we're calling on your squad to assist us."
Kanai stared at him—a long, measuring stare rich with conflicting emotions. "You'll need to talk directly to our doyen about that," he said at last.
"Fine. Where is he?"
Abruptly, Kanai twitched a smile. "At the moment, he's out looking for you." He glanced at his watch. "At any rate, I doubt he'd be willing to meet on such short notice."
"You did so."
"I'm the contact man," he said simply. "It's my job to be both visible and available. The rest of us can't afford that kind of exposure."
Lathe pursed his lips; but that was the only way a guerrilla force survived. "All right, then. Where and when?"
"Tomorrow night at nine, here," Kanai said. "I'll either bring him or else take you to him."
"Fair enough." Lathe stood up, Skyler following suit.
"It might help," Kanai said, "if I could tell him what exactly you want from us."
Lathe looked down at him, considering. The other had a point; but on the other hand the comsquare had no intention of saying anything important in a place like this. "For starters," he said, picking his words carefully, "I want the names and current locations of high-ranking military people who were stationed in the area during the war."
"Um." Kanai frowned thoughtfully. "That's a pretty big order. I don't know of anyone higher than colonel who's still here."
"A colonel might work. Just do what you can."
"All right." Slowly, Kanai got to his feet. "Comsquare... I have to be honest with you. Denver—and our position in the power structure here—is very stable. You're an intrusion, and an unknown one at that, and there may be some who won't like the risk you bring."
"Are you telling us your doyen might betray us?" Skyler asked.
"No, of course not. But he might decline to help you."
Lathe pursed his lips. "Let's face that possibility when we get there, all right?"
"Yes, sir." Kanai looked as if he wanted to say something more. But he merely nodded. "Tomorrow at nine, then. Good night."