“Argue with the owners, D.Z. Seems they done sold us out.” She folded her hands into a ball on her desktop. “And yuh ought to be aware, Donovan, that all my officers got money at risk on this here voyage. Legally, yuh can do what yuh want; but I thought yuh’d like to know.”
Meaning that, illegally, who knew what could happen? Donovan smiled engagingly, and Barnes thought for a moment that there was something very familiar about that smile. “We appreciate that, Captain; and were this not of the greatest importance to the League, we would have delayed the charter until we found a ship free. But we can sweeten the pot two ways. The first is that after you drop us on Enjrun you can finish your deals at Ōram and Zhenghou Shuai, and then come back and pick us up. Our business should be done by then. If not, we’ll dicker a little more. The Kennel can afford bonuses. Then you can do the rest of your trades—Kaņţu, Ākramaņapīchē, and the rest—on the trip back. So all you lose is a little time backtracking to Enjrun.”
“How d’ye know we won’t maroon you on Enjrun?” asked D.Z. “She isn’t the most pleasant world to be stuck on.” Barnes shot him an irritated look. She did not want to aggravate the situation.
“Oh, that’s simple enough,” Donovan said. “I took out an insurance policy. Copies of the charter went to Greystroke-Hound and his Pup, and to Zorba de la Susa on High Tara. All three of them have a very deep personal interest in this assignment.”
Barnes had started to say that she had never heard of this Greystroke, but stopped herself. De la Susa, she had heard of. “I thought Old Hound was retired.”
“He’ll come out of retirement just for this. It involves his goddaughter. We guarantee that Greystroke and Rinty will be waiting on Gatmander when Blankets and Beads returns and while they might not weep if we’re not aboard, they will very much want to know where Méarana of Dangchao is. Captain Barnes, we are not your enemy. A Confederate agent is on the same trail, and no one will be happy if he reaches the end of it before we do.”
“What’s the second sweetener?” Barnes asked. “I hope it’s sweeter than the threats.”
Donovan spread his hands. “We can hook you up with a consortium on Dancing Vrouw that’s interested in some of the goods you buy on Enjrun.”
Barnes cocked an eyebrow. A handshake with a Hansard Trading House was worth a great deal indeed. “What’s the arrangement?”
“We have one end of a 60:40 for all the parking stone jewelry you can get. You help us, we give you half of our end.”
Barnes pursed her lips and locked eyes with her Number One, who tipped his head ever so slightly to the right. “Half of the forty?” she asked.
“Half of the sixty.”
Both she and D.Z. relaxed. Assuming Donovan spoke sooth, anyone who could wangle the long side of a Hanseatic deal was a man of considerable wangle indeed, and one worth dealing with.
But she could not shake the notion that she had once known this man, and that the knowing had not been a happy occasion.
Billy Chins was quite satisfied with how matters had fallen out. The mind-crippled Donovan had been discarded, leaving only the dimwitted Wild-man. Now he need only follow the harper, and glory and renown would be his—and perhaps power, as well, if he understood properly the hints thrown his way. It was not quite clear what the harper and the scarred man thought they had found, perhaps not even to them. Whatever it was, it had killed a Hound and that was something very puissant indeed. Fire from the sky could mean a great many things, and none of them sounded harmless.
But for now he remained a servant and “Spud” deViis, the ship’s steward, wanted to see him. It was not so bad to wait upon the harper, whom he had grown rather to like, but atangku could be an irritation. He followed his tag-along down corridors and through apses and bubbles and along a tube into Dome Five until he found the door placarded victualling and pressed the hoígh plate. The door slid open and…
…he stepped inside to find a bare room. He hesitated just the barest fraction. Had he come to the wrong place somehow? And in that fraction the door slid shut behind him.
Trapped! By whom? It was too subtle for the oaf Teodorq; too treacherous for the harper. He backed into a corner, drew his stiletto and waited, ready.
A door opened on the far side of the room, and through it stepped Donovan.
Billy flung his knife, but Donovan stepped aside and snatched it handle-first out of the air. He looked at it and smiled at Billy, and Billy did not like the smile. “You ought to be more careful, boy,” he said.
Billy fell to his knees. “Oh, sahb! Sahb! Billy fear such-much! Door close, and I think budmash trap for Billy. I think: does agent who follow behind us—catch up now long time? But master only make surprise poor Billy. Such joy to see sahb! O such-much sorrow, if knife find heart of master!”
Donovan shook his head. “I didn’t mean careful with the knife. I meant careful with your syntax.”
“Syntax, sahb?”
“In the hotel on Dancing Vrouw. You said ‘out to the Rift,’ and no Leaguesman would ever say that. We say ‘into the Rift.’ Only a Confederate thinks ‘out’ when he thinks of the Rift. For a long time, we couldn’t put the pieces together; but…Was drugging us your idea? We have you to thank, then.”
Billy began to sweat. This was a Donovan he had never seen before. “No, sahb! You wrong him, Billy. Billy Chins your khitmutgar!”
“Yes, that was slick, the way you arranged that. We don’t know if we would have seen through it even if we had been whole at the time.”
“No see-through! You protect Billy from’ Loonies! You ask me come with!”
“Clever, like I said. But I think that mob was bought and the whole thing staged. Art thou evenso a Terry?”
The last he had asked in the Tongue. Billy sighed and gave it up. “As thou sayest.”
Donovan grunted. “So. Many of the Folk wear the collar of our oppressor. The next question is: what are we to do with you? Did you kill that woman on Harpaloon?” He turned the knife casually in his hand.
“No. That was my shadow.”
“Ah.”
“Thou knowest the shadows. The Names send us out in pairs, with the second to act if the first fails. The second agent hath always the higher loyalty quotient.”
“Trust is not among Their many qualities,” Donovan said. “Yes, we know the system. We once had dealings with a second.”
“Ravn Olafsdottr.”
“Yes. Knowest thou her?”
“By reputation only. May I rise, O best one?”
Donovan gestured with the knife, and Billy struggled to his feet, in the course of which Donovan produced a dazer in place of the knife. “Now, explain thyself, worthless one. Much dependeth upon thine answers.”
Billy bowed slightly. “I was sent to question the woman at the park. She was what we call a myan zhan shibang—a sleep-agent…”
“We know Confederal Manjrin,” Donovan interrupted in that language before reverting to the Tongue. “Speak more quickly, that thy life be thereby prolonged.”
Billy bowed again. “I found her much alarmed over the harper’s visit. She desired instruction. I allayed her fears, and set out to learn what the visit portended. Easily did I find the Hound’s daughter and, Lo! She led me unto thee. I thought that thou hadst…overcome thine infirmity. But my shadow took offense that the jawharry had held a Hound’s package without reporting.”
“Fool! She knew it not.”
Billy shrugged. “Now my shadow hunts me, also, for I did nothing to punish her. For this reason did I attach myself to you, and in your protection flee my station on Harpaloon. Listen, and I will tell thee something. There is a struggle in the Lion’s Mouth.’ the lamp that was lit has flared again.’ Agent hunts agent.’ the names that were not forgotten have been remembered.’”