Cruel Zinc Melodies (40 page)

If he comes up with any ambition at all, that kid will wind up king of the world.

This would be a side trail we can take up, on our own behalf, after we have made the World safe for play production.
Our wounds are grievous deep but not fatal. We have a dragon to slay and ghosts to lay.

True. The kitty had to be fed first.

But I was so stung I figured I’d be seeing Kip’s mom by the end of the week. Tinnie willing.

You really must get going, Garrett.

“All right. All right. I’m on it.” But, of course, I had one more thing to do before I could plunge into the cold.

I visited Dean, turned him into a temporary operative by giving him instructions involving Joe Kerr, Playmate, John Stretch, Saucerhead’s wages, and Playmate’s fees.

I stopped off and gave Eleanor a big wink before I hit the street.

80

I opened the front door. An arctic breeze handed me a full body swat, shoved me back. “There’s a freaking blizzard going on out there!” I heaved the door shut before the abominable snowmen invaded.

Time to layer up.

Dean was at the far end of the hall, wearing a smirk. He’d come out to watch. Likewise, Singe, right there almost within smacking distance. Looking less smug because she hadn’t yet mastered that human trick.

“Funny people. Somebody could’ve warned me. Came on kind of sudden, didn’t it?”

Not really.

He was right. The signs had been there. I’d had other things on my mind. Still did, in fact.

I wondered what other things was doing right now. Showing her hand at home?

I did layer up, best I could. Then I went out into that mess, operating on the theory that I couldn’t get lost in a city where I’d lived all my life, and driven by a need to show somebody something. Who knows what.

It ought to be a good day to get stuff done. Shouldn’t be many people underfoot. I didn’t notice anyone watching. I didn’t smell anyone, either.

Mr. Jan was not distraught about his loaner coat. “No need to worry, Mr. Garrett. No need. It was crap, though I made it myself. I kept it because the man who ordered it never picked it up.” This while he was fitting my new coat. Which I just plain loved. “You satisfy his marker and I'll say nothing.”

“How much?”

He named a figure that disabused me of any suspicion that he might be a nice, honest, fair little old tailor. I protested. He told me, “I’m sorry you feel that way. Very well. I'll put it back on the peg. Jokes may redeem it yet.”

Can’t be many people who go by Jokes. There’s only one Saucerhead Tharpe. Probably only one Lurking Felhske. And couldn’t be more than one Jokes Leastor. Who expired of a surfeit of blood loss a couple years ago, after someone he didn’t know as well as he thought objected to one of his pranks.

Jokes Leastor was exactly the guy who would’ve had that clown coat made.

“I’d better have mercy on you, Mr. Jan. Jokes won’t be coming back. Or, if he does, he won’t be needing a coat. Quite the opposite.”

“Has something happened to him?”

“He played one joke too many. He ended up room temperature. A while back, now.”

“I feared as much. He was slow but he did always get around to paying.”

Face saved all round, we finished the fitting, I gave him his blood money, donned the remnants of Jokes? sartorial declaration, then pointed my nose toward the big cold.

Mr. Jan said, “This should be done in two to three days. I'll have a courier take it round to your place. Unless I need you to come back for some final measurements.”

“Excellent.”

I returned to the white reflecting on the fact that in just days an old tailor had managed to find out where I lived.

I made a big mistake. I headed for The Palms. It was the nearest place where I could both get warm and be welcome. I should’ve headed for Playmate’s stable instead. That was almost as close. But Playmate is all boring and honest. Morley Dotes is crooked as a dog’s hind leg. And he’s involved in stuff that keeps me barking with curiosity.

81

Abominable men came out of the snowstorm, summoned by the dread melodies of silver whistles. They wore neither blue shirts nor red flop hats. And, as noted, their whistles weren’t made of tin.

So I never made it to The Palms, where my best pal could’ve told me all about his hopes and plans and schemes.

Nobody said a word. We all knew our roles. Somebody at the Al-Khar wanted to see me. Somebody at the Al-Khar knew how to find me in the middle of a snowstorm. So I was going to put my life on hold till I’d enjoyed a chat with that somebody.

One particular somebody was more likely than any other. He didn’t have his runners declare themselves with their headgear.

The runaround at the Al-Khar was abbreviated. That minikin Linton Suggs got me to Director Relway in jig time.

The Director was waiting. He wasn’t alone.

Colonel Block was there to assist. I didn’t know the third man. The deference he received suggested that he was Prince Rupert.
The
law and order fanatic in the royal household. He had a definite Relway-like gleam in his hard gray eyes.

Prince Rupert was just two failed hearts away from Karenta’s throne. And he might get there. Which might be good for the kingdom. He had strength. Karenta needs a strong ruler.

In this pecking order the low man was Deal Relway. Barring lower-than-gravel Garrett, of course, and the gawkers wandering past.

Relway started by asking questions obviously not his own.

He was no more happy than I, at the moment.

He is the most absolute realist I’ve ever met. He knows reality more intimately than he knows his own suite of perversions. He knows he can get anything he wants, and more, if he’s just patient and pliable when the right people are around. He knows that most people who matter agree with the Director of the Unpublished Committee for the Security of the Crown, whatever they offer for public consumption.

Deal Relway is what he needs to be. Patient. Clever. Deadly. Unacquainted with pity, conscience, or remorse. He may be TunFaire’s future. Nine of ten of the king’s subjects will be thrilled with the future Deal Relway wants to create.

And there I was. Before much got said, bemoaning? in all privacy, of course, the tyranny sure to come. The tyranny certain to make life more safe, secure, and comfortable for the nine of ten.

Inarguably, in a TunFaire run by Deal Relway, the only frightened people should be crooks. But the crook class would include anybody who didn’t like the way Deal Relway operated.

Relway stopped after a half hour of random questions, all of which I answered honestly. And which, frankly, left me puzzled because they didn’t have that much to do with what was going on. Then he and the prince became observers. Along with the ever-changing gallery. Colonel Block said, “You put us in a tight place this time, Garrett.”

“I’m gonna confess right up front, Colonel. I haven’t got any idea what you’re talking about.”

“Some Hill people got hurt bad at your place yesterday. Two dead, on scene. Another died right after. Two more could still go.”

“That’s bullshit. Link Dierber died. Shadowslinger and Schnook Avery had some broken bones. The other three maybe got a couple bruises apiece. You want me to be honest with you, you maybe oughta not bullshit me.”

“You?”

“Hold on. You guys want to run the world a whole new way. You want to make everybody responsible for their own behavior. Well, get your heads around that this time. Furious Tide of Light brought those people to the World. They were all family of the kids who created the bugs. I had nothing to do with them showing up. Neither did the ownership. If I’d known they were coming I would’ve tried to keep them away. They were sure to interfere with work. And they did. With all the tact their kind usually show. There was bad blood between one of them and one of my consultants. They were half brothers. They had an old feud none of those people would explain. I don’t think it matters, really. The feud caught fire. If I was you slugs I’d worry about Schnook Avery instead of harassing that harmless old fuzz ball, Garrett. Who had nothing to do with any of it.”

Block responded, “Fact is, we can harass you as much as we want. Nobody will care. Hill folk, on the other hand...”

“I'll care. A lot. One or two others might, too.”

Prince Rupert made a calming gesture. Saying nothing. He was kind of a goofy-looking guy, tall and lean.

Block nodded. “No point in getting in a pissing contest because the man rubs me the wrong way.” That for the benefit of his audience. “Particularly since he’s connected with TunFaire’s top financiers, magnates, industrial doyens, and criminal masterminds.”

Block made the point gently and obliquely but in a way that wouldn’t be misunderstood. Ma Garrett’s boy is tight with some major players. Who might take mortal offense for no reason a true blue blood would understand.

Senior folk at the social poles, like Relway and the prince, have to nurture the happiness of the stinking-rich merchant classes. They don’t like it. But they have to honor the power of the money.

Another face of the future.

I gained respect for Prince Rupert during the prolonged consultation. He said little. He listened. And he heard. When he did speak he avoided stupid with disarming ease, though he never had much to say. I found myself hoping he would have the misfortune to ascend the ladder of succession. Karentine monarchs are ephemeral, crowned and often murdered before we get used to seeing their profiles on the coinage. I didn’t know anyone I’d rather see cursed with the Crown.

Eventually, I asked, “Can you tell me the point to all this?” I gestured at the red top parade. “Why do those guys need to come gawk at me?”

Prince Rupert was interested in my coat. The fifth time he asked about it, I said, “I’d give it to you if I had anything else to wear.” I sang the sad song of the demise of my own coat, thanks to the good Director. I added several verses about Mr. Jan taking forever to finish the replacement, thanks to the good Director.

The good Director ground his teeth.

Colonel Block took me to the exit personally. “You did good in there, Garrett. You didn’t let us rattle you. You even almost convinced me that you were telling the truth.”

I had a creepy feeling that I’d survived some kind of test.

“I was. There’s no reason to hide anything. Especially since the Hill people got involved.” There had been mention of those folks, off and on, but I’d gotten the impression that the prince didn’t care. He was more interested in the kids. And me. “Mr. Weider and I are better off having you know the truth. We might find ourselves needing the friendship of the Crown’s men. Besides, isn’t it every subject’s duty?”

“Don’t lay it on with a trowel, Garrett. Your cooperation has its boundaries.”

Well, yeah. I’d withheld a few trivialities. But he didn’t need to know about John Stretch’s talents. And it wouldn’t do to mention an improbable dragon, of potentially sun-darkening magnitude, snoozing on a treasure way down deep beneath the World.

“I look out for my clients. Sometimes having you in the know is what’s best.” He had to get that into his head. That was a truth as solid as stone.

“Right.” He winked. “Stay warm out there, Garrett.”

82

“Hey, Garrett! Nice coat,” Saucerhead said when I slipped in through the front door at the World. “What kind of fur is that?”

“Beaver, I think.” It was obvious why Tharpe and his crew were huddled up inside. The ghosts weren’t active and it was almost warm. Water remained liquid. “Prince Rupert traded it to me for the one I’ve been wearing. The ghosts on a holiday?”

Derisive laughter from all hands.

“Truth, Head. He wanted it so he could get one like it made.” I needed to move on. But I couldn’t. “Relway had me dragged in. The Prince was at the Al-Khar. He saw that coat and fell in love.”

I don’t know why I expected him to believe that. Dumb-ass street thieves made up better stories. “What’s been happening? Have you seen Playmate?”

“Yeah.” Tharpe wanted to go on giving me a hard time, but he did take time out for business. “He came by. He brung them two black cases over there. He said tell you the ratpeople can’t make it today. Maybe tomorrow, if the weather is better.”

I got busy with the cases, the little one first. It could win me friends.

I dragged out a heavy doeskin sack as Tharpe wound up to get back to my fabrications about an obviously stolen beaver coat.

The atmosphere changed. Saucerhead purred. “Garrett. My main man. What do you have in that sack, my brother?” He heard the music of the metal.

I showed him my precious metal trumps.

I had friends.

They stayed friends even after they hid their money in their purses and pockets.

I said, “It’s too warm in here, guys. Whatever you think.”

Saucerhead said, “You keep trying to freeze the place out. How come?”

I told him.

In moments it was obvious the dragon would go over worse than my beaver coat story. Had to be pure, unadulterated, nine ninety-nine fine, one ninety proof, Garrett-style bullshit. Which I shouldn’t have been retailing, anyway.

My ego kicked in. I started getting hot. Then I recalled an incident from boot camp, nine days in.

We’d had only a couple hours of sleep. The drill gods were breaking us down. They rolled us out for some pre-dawn recreation. I got my undershirt on backward in my haste to avoid being last man out, which would guarantee the descent of the wrath of Sergeant God. I didn’t yet understand that the wrath would find a way, no matter how hard I tried.

When my error was pointed out, in a friendly way, by a fellow recruit, I snapped. I insisted that
this
shirt was made that way and I had made no error.

I knew I was being stupid while I said it. But I couldn’t stop.

That haunted me the rest of boot camp. The guys never looked at me the same. I never regained their complete trust and respect. Luckily, I wasn’t posted to the same outfit when we went to the fleet.