Shadowkill sq-3, page 27
part #3 of Shadith's quest Series
##
By the seventh day there were crowds of child beggars, street singers, magicians, acrobats, cutpurses, food venders; Hadluk’s rumor-mill was working industriously and producing the desired effect. He knew his Rummers.
##
The crowd grew every playday, shouting the number of the win when she came out. Seven, eight, nine…
They opened and let her pass without hindrance when she arrived, there was a hush, hot and tense, like the hush before a storm. The question was there in their faces: Would she win again? Would the Lady kiss her once more?
They had the answer before she came out.
Yes. She won, the whisper came. She won. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. She won. She won.
##
Dasuttras ran at her, elbowed past the guards she was forced to hire; they touched her, just touched her-as if they hoped her Luck would rub off on them.
Sick people came at her on hands and knees to outmaneuver the guards, or paid child beggars to tear pieces of cloth from her dress.
She moved quickly into the maze of semi-streets, dismissed the guards as soon as the worst of the crush was left behind, depended on Kikun’s Not-There to screen her from the more persistent followers and-somehow-kept her homeground in the Rumach secret from friend and enemy alike.
##
On the thirteenth day, as Hadluk counted out her winnings, he murmured. “The High Vaar called Jao this afternoon, wanted to know about you, if the Luck was real or you were pulling something.”
“That’s good?”
“Yup. You’re in.”
“Got the date?”
“Not yet. Can you keep this up?”
“Long as the play’s straight.”
“It will be.”
##
On the fifteenth playnight, there were only three marks waiting for her. By the second Chapter she knew what she faced. They were combined against her. She almost giggled with relief. She’d been expecting this for days.
Jao came in looking grim. She caught his eye, shook her head. He thought it over a moment, then left.
She cleaned them.
They yelled foul.
The Beza Prezao came himself and took them away.
##
Jao waited while Hadluk counted the coins and locked them away, then he took her arm and escorted her to the quartet of guards waiting by the door. He turned her to face him. “That won’t happen again. After Prezao gets done with them, they’ll walk small and stay away.”
“Thanks.”
He smiled. “You know what’s really going to discourage repeats of this night? You cleaned them. They pulled a sneak on you and went down tails on fire. Why haven’t I heard of you?”
“I play privately. Go on binges, then quit. So there’s nothing to hear.”
“Some nothing. Come see me tomorrow.”
“What time?”
“Have lunch with me.”
“With pleasure. Noon?”
“One.”
“I’ll be there.”
4
She stripped the dress off, threw it on the bed. “We’re in, Kuna. I’m having lunch with Jao tomorrow. I have a feeling he’s going to offer the invitation then.”
Kikun was curled into a tight ball. His skin fell looser by the day, his bones were starting to show. “Soon enough,” he said. His voice was dull, dragging.
“You all right, Kuna?”
“No, I’m not all right. I’m tired, Rose. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I need things I can’t get here.”
The words came to her as sighs puffing through the flicker of the candlelight; she had to strain to hear them. She pulled the woolly robe around her, irritated by his limpness. She’d come home high and happy and he’d gloomed her down till she was low as the rug. She couldn’t do this thing without him, not the way it was set up, but more than ever she regretted not being on her own. She sat on the bed and began taking down her hair. “It’s almost over, Kuna. Tell me what you got from the office.”
He muttered words she couldn’t hear, uncoiled and sat with his legs dangling, his hands clutching the edge of the seat. “I picked up two more passkeys. Wrote them down, they’re on the table. I don’t see any pattern in his keys, I think he’s using private symbols translated through the local ideograms. Not numbers. Gestalt of some kind. Probably interlocking gestalts. Ideograms lend themselves to that sort of thing. You’d probably find it simple-minded. It works for him, lets his women get what they need to run the business for him, keeps the rest private. Gaagi…” he blinked and looked unhappy, a small gray-green manlizard sinking into wrinkles. “Gaagi decided to show, he says the machine is trapped, push it wrong and the whole building goes boom.”
“Lovely. Hmm. If I can get in, pull the data without bringing the house on my head, I’ll have the Shimmery for refuge, three days, that’s how long Topenga Vagnag takes. I’ll be sleeping there, won’t go out till the Game’s over. That’ll give you a chance to rest, if you can hang on till then. After you get a look at the Players.” She pulled the dozens of fine plaits apart, dropped the pins and clasps on the quilt beside her, working quickly, impatiently, ignoring the sharp little pains when she pulled too hard. “I need you hot and ready to go when it’s time to get away. This is going to be tricky, Kuna. Hadluk and Pulleet will do their best to put me down, types like that always get greedy, want it all, and the other Players will be… hmm… shall we say MOST unhappy. And one of them’s going to be the High Vaar. They say they want a good game, what they mean is they want to win. Mmm, we can’t come back here, not after the Game. We should have everything we don’t want to abandon packed and ready to shift before I go. When you have a moment, Kuna, see if you can locate us a tractor, that’s about the fastest way out of town, we need to get close to where the miniskips are before anyone wakes up to the fact that we’re gone. About milking that kephalos the night before the Game… hmm… impossible to do it without traces… you think you could get me something that would make Sai think it was lice nosing into his business? Insignia or something I could leave lying in some inconspicuous spot? I should have the timeline set after my lunch with Jao. Then we’ll know where we are.” She thrust her fingers through her hair, combing out the worst of the kinks. “Bath. Goerta b’rite, I NEED a bath.”
“How much did you get tonight?”
“I don’t know. All they had, I didn’t bother counting it.”
“You are odd, Rose. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Why? Because I don’t give a damn about money?” She shrugged, got to her feet. “I can always get money. It’s other things that don’t come when you whistle.” She made a face, collected the towel and facecloth and coins for the heater slot. “You want me to run water for you when I’m finished?”
“Please.”
5
Jao tilted the bottle and poured a pale liquid that wasn’t even a kissing cousin to the turpentine she’d been drinking. “Home wine,” he said. “From my cousin’s vineyard on Shimmaroh. I think you will like this.” He filled his own glass and smiled as she sipped, then sighed with pleasure. “Forgive me in advance for intruding on your private affairs?”
“After such a meal, I would forgive almost anything.”
“You have a considerable sum banked with me. Could you perhaps have access to… mmm… say triple that amount?”
“Possibly.”
“Yes. Good. Have you heard, perhaps, of our sessions of Topenga Vagnag?”
“You might say it’s among the things that brought me here.”
“Ahhh. Yes. It is the custom for offworlders to deposit a certain sum with me before they play. This smoothes out possible difficulties and makes life more pleasant for everyone.”
“Let’s have things clear, Jao juhFeyn. You are inviting me to play Topenga Vagnag?”
“Yes. If you can present the necessary deposit. I have a credit link tied to Helvetia which you may use if you wish.”
“That won’t be necessary. How soon must I have the deposit?”
“Three days on. By the first hour after noon.”
“And when is the Game?”
“The Players will arrive four days on.”
“I see. You have secure rooms for them?”
“For you also, if you wish. The room is part of the service I provide in return for my fee which is ten percent of your net wins; if you are a net loser, consider it a gift.”
“Most kind. I’d really rather avoid the… um… distractions of coming and going.”
“You’ve played Topenga before?”
“Yes.”
“What name will you be using?”
“My name is my talisman, juhFeyn. I never change it. I will go by Autumn Rose.”
He smiled, settled back in his chair. “So you’re a tech, a systems specialist.”
“Freetech. I can’t talk about it. Company privilege, you understand. Silence is part of what they buy from me.”
“I see. Have you ever been to Shimmaroh?”
“No. What’s it like?”
“You know Spotchals?”
“Who doesn’t.”
“True. Something like Spotchals in a smaller system…
6
Kikun slid along the alley, stopped by a narrow recess. “Easiest to get in here,” he murmured.
Autumn Rose fished the keypac from her toolbag, got the door open and slipped inside, a shadow in shadows. She had a black scarf wrapped around her head, and as she moved, there was a springy power in her thin body that reminded Kikun of the sohdihlo dancers back home who trained for the Holy Days at Plibajatsi Toh, the Sacred Lake. He grimaced. It seemed like everything was reminding him of home these days. Grandmother Ghost getting her pinches in.
There was a hiss from the darkness-Autumn Rose wondering why he was dallying out in the street. That was another thing about these days, Rose was impatient all the time, scratchy as the thorns on her namesake.
The building was dark and smelled of urine and dust; it had the hollow echoing feel that told Kikun it was empty. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think it was necessary. Gaagi was hovering somewhere in the background; he wasn’t showing his face, but Kikun could hear the whisper of his feathers now and then, just often enough to know he was there. Might or might not be a help.
Kikun slipped in past Rose, went scurrying up the gritty, sagging stairs, staying close to the wall so they wouldn’t squeal on him. Or under him, as the case might be.
##
The door to Sai’s office had a dirty mirror in the upper half, a mirror that turned into one-way glass once they were inside.
Rose looked over her shoulder, snorted. “Elegant.”
Kikun shrugged. “Whatever works.”
She wrinkled her nose, set her hands on her hips and looked around.
A grayish light filtered through the ancient dust on the windows, enough to show them the sagging benches lined up against a side wall, the broad armchair in an inner corner where the guard sat with his ottoshot across his knees; its seat cushion was worn and shabby, molded to the shape of his broad butt. Beside the door into the inner office, a bulky deskset pouched through the wall with a grill across a hatch. During the day the woman sat behind that grill, readouts at their elbows, and did their needlework while they waited for someone to comcall or walk in.
Rose inspected the door to the inner office, fished a readout from her toolbag and ran it along the jamb; when she was finished, she looked at the result, sniffed with satisfaction. Over her shoulder she said, “Watch my back. I don’t know how long this’s going to take.” She keyed the door, went through it, and settled at one of the readouts.
Kikun watched her start work, then went to squat in a corner by the outer door, humming hymns that were so old even the gods had forgotten who made them.
##
Jadii-Gevas the antelope spirit ran clicka-clack through the empty stinking corridors, his black eyes wild, his breath wet before him.
Kikun quivered with him, shuddered with his fear, looked through his eyes, searching, searching for motion, the thing that Jadii-gevas was created to find, find and flee. The antelope spirit shuddered and fled as wind rattled a window, his hooves clacked on the bare wood floors like hail as he fled again when a rat came trundling from a pile of anonymous litter.
Spash’ats the Bear sat in a corner of the room, big and dark, shining amber eyes. He yawned, opened his mouth wide enough to swallow Kikun, snapped it closed, tooth-sliding against tooth. He was shadow without substance but his power was like perfume, it lingered even when the wearer was mostly absent. He was warning, he was reproach, he was the summoner.
Kikun shuddered whenever he looked into that corner; he tried not to look, but he couldn’t keep his head from turning, he couldn’t keep his eyes away.
He was supposed to be watching for intruders, he was supposed to be guarding Autumn Rose, not harrowing his soul for the edification of his gods, gods he couldn’t believe in even when he was looking at them. He kept looking at them. He let Jadii-Gevas do the watching.
The soft sound of Rose’s fingertips came to him along with a faint flickering greenish glow from the screen. She was concentrating so hard it was like a skin of glass was pulled around her, glass tough as ship steel.
He sighed. He missed Shadith; she understood things that Rose never would because Rose didn’t want to understand them. He spent a moment wondering where Shadow was and what she was doing right now-then was jerked from his reverie by the challenge roar of Jadii-Gevas…
Antelope Spirit reared, huge and dark, antlers like naked trees, eyes red, Jadii-Gevas reared, obsidian hooves hanging over the head of the man coming unconcerned down the corridor, coming toward the office…
Kikun whistled a brief warning to Rose, dropped flat against the wall, the stunner ready.
There was a form on the far side of the glass, the rattle of a key in the lock. The door opened.
Kikun fired.
The man jerked, shuddered, dropped.
Xumady the Otter clashed his teeth and giggled, a high whinny that scratched at Kikun’s ears and called a lump into his throat. Down among the dead men, Xumady said to him. You’ve a corpse to play with, Nai.
Kikun cursed the trickster in the reduplications of his natal langue, the agglutinations. He didn’t want to believe it, but he’d felt the spirit go out of the man and he saw cold and empty flesh lying on the shabby rug. With a last flicker of hope, he dropped to a squat beside the body, caught hold of the nearest wrist, tried to find a pulse.
Nothing.
He scowled at the stunner, held it close to his eyes so he could see the setting. Minimum stun. The lowest notch. “Rose,” he whispered.
No answer. She was so tied into what she was doing she didn’t know what was happening out here.
“Rose!”
She made an impatient sound, looked up. “What? I’m just getting somewhere, Kuna. Hold on a minute, will you?”
“No. There’s a problem. I need you.”
She swore, worked a moment over the pad, then came through the door. “So? You stunned him, I hope.”
“Yes. I did. But he’s dead.”
“What?” She strode across to him, stirred the body with her toe. “Did you change the setting?”
“No. Look. He tossed the stunner to her.
She examined it, scowled down at the man. “All right. So why’s he dead? Or is he?” She dropped to her knees, held out the stunner. “Here, take this thing.” She pressed her fingers up under his jaw. “Z’ Toyff. They don’t come deader. Miserable luck, he must’ve been one of those extra sensitives. You don’t happen on them often, goerta b’rite.” She checked her ringchron, passing her hand across her eyes. “Yes. Who is he?”
“Don’t know. I suspect he’s Sai. He’s got keys. What are we going to do with him?”
She pressed the heels of her hands hard against her eyes. For a moment she didn’t say anything, just knelt there as if she were praying, though he suspected what was going through her head had nothing to do with prayer.
She straightened, got to her feet. “Another half hour and I’ll have the Mimishay file. I was going to go for Black House, too, but might as well forget that. He can stay where he is until I’m finished. We’re not likely to have more visitors. Or are we?”
“No. I don’t know. Probably not.”
“Mm. This building’s right on the bay, there must be windows looking out over the water?”
“Yes. Just drop him out? Like he was garbage?”
“He’s beyond feeling it, Kuna.”
“It’s not respectful.”
“I don’t know him, why should I respect his corpse? It’s our skins, Kuna. And not just ours. What about your friend Shadith? If we get topped, what happens to her?”
He moved uneasily. “I hear.”
“Right, then.” She transferred her scowl from him to the body. “Jorkhead. Middle of the night…” She swung round and stalked into the inner office.
Kikun heard the squeak of the chair as she sat, the patter of her fingertips, saw the unsteady light from the screen chasing shadows across the wall beside him. He sighed, caught hold of Sai’s shoulders and tugged him out of the doorway, laid him against the wall.
Xumady giggled and danced a triumph about and around the dead man.
Spash’ats gloomed in his corner and piled his silent demands on Naiyol Hanee called Kikun: Honor the dead. Honor YOUR dead.
Jadii-Gevas the antelope spirit ran clicka-clack through the empty stinking corridors, his black eyes wild, his breath wet before him.
Watch for me, Kikun told Antelope the Bear. Watch for me.
Dance for me, Kikun told Otter. Guide, he told ’Gemla Mask, suddenly there.
