by Mike Resnick
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Chapter 12
I woke up just before ten o'clock, as usual, and tiptoed out of the bedroom so as to not wake Rainbow. Thaddeus, totally dressed, was standing by the window in the living room, looking out at the grounds with an amused smile on his face.
“What are you doing up?” I asked.
He put a finger to his lips, pointed to Dapper Dan, who was still sound asleep, and whispered: “I haven't been to bed yet.”
“Is something the matter?” I whispered back to him.
“I spent most of the night reading. When I finally looked at the time, I figured I might as well stay up or I'd oversleep my little meeting with Romany.” He looked back out the window. “There's a pair of cops out there. I've been watching them for the better part of twenty minutes.”
“Why are they here?”
“Why do any cops come to a carnival?” he smiled. “These guys must be a little new on the job, though. They don't seem to know who to talk to. I think Monk must have scared them out of a year's growth when he took Bruno out for a walk a little while ago.”
I walked over to the window and looked out. The two policemen were engaged in an animated conversation with Stogie, which was always a mistake: eventually he'd tell them what they wanted to know, but not until he tried out twenty or thirty octogenarian jokes on them first. They listened to him, patiently at first, then with increasing irritation. Finally one of them shouted something at him, and after first giving them a look of complete disdain for their lack of humor or intelligence or both, he finally took his ever-present cigar out of his mouth and pointed it toward our trailer.
A moment later they knocked on the door, and Thaddeus gestured to me to follow him outside so as not to wake the two sleeping aliens.
“You're Thaddeus Flint?” asked the taller of the two cops.
“That's right,” said Thaddeus, zipping his jacket up to the top and putting his hands in his pockets. “You're a little early for the show, officer.”
“As a matter of fact, that's just what we want to talk to you about,” was the reply.
“You don't mind if we walk while we talk, do you?” replied Thaddeus. “It's too cold to stand still.”
“Fine by us,” said the shorter one.
Thaddeus turned to me and nodded. It was my signal to disappear: cops didn't like witnesses around when they took payoffs.
I decided not to go back to the trailer, since I didn't want to wake the sleeping aliens, but I did stop by the Hothouse to hunt up Swede and tell him he'd better get back on duty in the next few minutes. I hung around long enough to warm up a little, then stuck my head out to see if Thaddeus was through with the police yet.
He was standing alone, lighting his first cigarette of the morning, and I walked out to join him.
“All done?” I asked.
He nodded. “Come along and keep me company, Tojo.”
We walked over to the Rigger's trailer and Thaddeus pounded on the door until Diggs opened it.
“I took care of the cops,” Thaddeus reported. “You're all set.”
“How long?” asked the Rigger.
“Five days. Then they'll be back for more.”
“Are we going to stay in this arctic wasteland for five more days?”
“I haven't decided yet,” said Thaddeus. “Go back to sleep. You'll catch cold standing there in your shorts, and I might just laugh myself to death.”
Diggs closed the door without another word, and we walked over to the girlie tent. Alma and three of the others were sitting around in jeans and sweaters, drinking coffee and hot chocolate laced with whiskey, while Gloria, wearing her leotards, was going through her usual morning regimen: sit-ups, kicks, leg-lifts, and stretching exercises. She took her work seriously—probably too seriously—and I always got the feeling that the other strippers resented her, if only because she made them look so lazy by comparison.
“Good morning,” said Gloria, starting to practice her shoulder shimmies.
“Nothing good about it,” said Thaddeus. “It's freezing out there.”
“Well?” said Alma.
“Well what?”
“I saw you talking to the cops.”
“They thought it was cold too,” said Thaddeus.
“Get to the point,” said Alma wearily. “How strong do we have to work?”
“Pasties and G-strings.”
“Okay,” said Alma. “Now that you've had your joke for the day, how about it?”
“You heard me,” said Thaddeus.
Gloria stopped shimmying to stare at him, and Barbara, another of the strippers, laughed sarcastically. “Come on, Thaddeus,” she said. “What's the angle?”
“There's no angle,” he said gruffly. “I'm just sick and tired of paying off the cops.”
“Payoff and Thaddeus go together like ham and rye,” persisted Barbara.
“What's coming down?”
“Not a damned thing. If you want to do a little flashing, that's up to you—but I won't bail you out.”
“The freaks aren't making that much money,” said Barbara.
“And even if they are, when did you ever turn away a fast buck with the meat show?” added Priscilla, who danced under the name of the Silicone Superstar.
“Let's have it, Thaddeus,” said Barbara. “What's the bottom line?”
“The bottom line is that you broads are going to have to start working for a living instead of laying down on a stage and playing games with a bunch of hicks. If you can't hack it, you can work the games for the Rigger.”
“You say it like you mean it,” said Priscilla dubiously.
“I'll believe it when I see it,” said Barbara.
“You'll see it starting with the first show today,” said Thaddeus, “or else you're going to be out on your shapely little ass.”
“You know,” said Barbara, “I think you really do mean it.” She paused uneasily for a second. “Look, Thaddeus, this is the last thing I ever thought I'd say, but ... well, we've worked pretty strong since we've been here, and the word has to have gotten around. So if you want us to wait until we hit the next town...”
“You just don't listen, do you?” said Thaddeus irritably. “There are going to be two very unhappy cops sitting in the first row all week long, just looking for a reason to bust you.”
“Just how much did they try to shake you down for?” asked Priscilla.
“Same as always. I just decided that I'm tired of paying for it.”
“Are the freaks really pulling in that much money?”
“What the freaks are doing is none of your business,” said Thaddeus. “Your business, starting here and now, is to start acting more like strippers and less like whores. If you can't remember how, watch Gloria.”
“Just a minute!” said Barbara hotly. “Who made us act like that in the first place?”
“Shut up!” snapped Alma, who had been silent throughout, and Barbara stopped speaking, startled.
“Well,” said Thaddeus, looking very uncomfortable, “that's that.” He turned to me. “Come on, you lecherous little dwarf. Haven't you gotten enough of an eyeful yet?”
He walked briskly out of the tent. I fell into step behind him, but before I even got to the door Alma had run by me and grabbed Thaddeus by the arm.
“Go back inside,” he said. “You'll freeze to death.”
“I know how much this is going to cost you,” she said, looking straight into his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Don't thank me for anything,” he said. “I just got goddamned sick and tired of paying off the cops.”
“Did you get sick of paying them off for Rigger's games, too?”
“The Rigger's games are his business.”
“Then thank you for being sick and tired of paying off the police.”
Suddenly she stood on her tiptoes, kissed him quickly and furtively on the cheek, and, looking very embarrassed, she ran back into the warmth o
f the tent.
“Thaddeus...” I began.
“Not a word, you ugly little wart!” he snapped.
We walked to the dormitory tent in silence. When we arrived he made a quick inspection of the aliens, walking among their cots and chairs. Finally he approached Mr. Ahasuerus.
“Well, what's the tally?” he asked.
“I don't understand,” replied the blue man.
“Who else is sick?”
“No one.”
“That's a surprise,” he said. “How's Snoopy?”
“Much improved. He will be able to perform this afternoon.”
“And Pumpkin?”
“Her improvement is somewhat less rapid,” said Mr. Ahasuerus.
“But she is improving?”
“Yes.”
Thaddeus stared at her for a minute, then sighed. “Okay. Give her the day off, Tojo.”
“All right, Thaddeus,” I replied.
While I was telling Pumpkin that she could remain in the dormitory tent, Barbara walked in, whispered something to Queenie, and walked right out again.
“We're going to start a little late today,” Thaddeus was telling Mr. Ahasuerus as I rejoined them. “I've got a business meeting at noon.”
“With Mr. Romany?”
“Not that it's any business of yours,” said Thaddeus, “but yes, I'm meeting with Romany.”
“Good luck,” said Mr. Ahasuerus.
“Allow me to wish you the same,” said Thaddeus with a sardonic smile.
“You do understand, of course, that he's only a minor functionary within the organization.”
“He may be a minor functionary, but he's got a couple of major character flaws,” replied Thaddeus. “I'm sure we'll be able to work something out.”
“I hope so,” said Mr. Ahasuerus. “I was fully as surprised as you that nobody else became sick last night. This is, when all is said and done, an alien world, and I suspect that the incidence of illness will increase dramatically in the days to come.”
“Unless it's already peaked and you're all starting to adjust to it,” said Thaddeus. “Never bullshit a bullshitter, Mr. Ahasuerus.”
The blue man merely shrugged and walked away. As soon as he was back among the aliens Queenie approached us.
“What now?” said Thaddeus.
“I heard what you did,” she said. “And I just wanted to thank you.”
“I thought you'd be just about the last person around here who'd be happy about it,” he said wryly.
“Why?”
“Now you'll have to go back to work making costumes.”
“It's my job,” said Queenie.
“Sure. Like dancing to music is Alma's job.”
“You make it very hard to thank you.”
“Nobody's asking you to,” he said. “I sure as hell didn't do it to make you happy.”
“I know,” replied Queenie. She looked long and hard at him. “Maybe Alma's right. Maybe there's a little more to you than meets the eye.”
“Because I'm not making the girls work strong anymore?”
“Yes.”
“But I'm still keeping the freaks against their will,” he pointed out.
“So what? They're just freaks.”
“What if I told you that one of them is a poet and another one's a biologist?”
“I wouldn't believe you,” said Queenie.
“It's true.”
“So what if it is? They're still freaks.”
“Then why do you feed them?” he asked her.
“To feel useful,” she replied honestly. “Besides, even a freak's got the right to eat.”
“But not to be free, is that it?” he asked with a smile.
“Then set ‘em free if that's what you want!” snapped Queenie. “Just get off my goddamned back! I'm sorry I thanked you in the first place. I only did it for Alma.”
The amusement vanished from his face.
“Do you do a lot of things for Alma?”
“None of your fucking business!”
“I know it isn't, but I'd like an answer anyway,” he persisted awkwardly. “Is she happy with you, Queenie?”
“A damned sight happier than she was with you.”
“I don't doubt it. You'd better work hard at keeping her that way.”
“Is that a challenge or a threat?” demanded Queenie.
“Neither. I did my part this morning. Now you do yours.”
“What are you saying?” asked Queenie, puzzled.
“I'm saying that if she's happy with you, she's yours,” replied Thaddeus. “For a smart broad, Queenie, you're pretty goddamned slow on the uptake.”
He looked at his watch. “It's getting near time. Tojo, roust Monk out of his bus and tell him I need it for an hour or two.”
He went back to say something to Mr. Ahasuerus. As I left the tent Queenie was standing there staring at him as if she still couldn't believe what she had heard. And, to be honest, I was having a little difficulty with it myself; I didn't know what was happening to Thaddeus, but I knew it couldn't have come from the cold, emotionless pages of an astronomy book.
Monk wasn't in his bus when I got there, so I hunted him up in the Hothouse and told him Thaddeus needed the bus.
“Okay,” he said. “But I've got my animals in there.”
“Loose?”
“Bruno's in a cage. The cats are loose. Tell him not to worry. They won't bother him.”
“I think you'd better lock them up anyway,” I said.
“Thaddeus knows my cats. He's not afraid of them, except maybe for the lion. How about if I just leave the leopards loose?”
“Thaddeus is having company,” I explained.
“Why can't he use his own trailer for his blasted conquests?” asked Monk irritably.
“Because it's temporarily been turned into a hospital,” I said. I told him about Dapper Dan and Rainbow, and finally, after much grumbling, he walked over to the bus and entered it.
“All right,” he said upon emerging a minute later. “You tell him that if he busts the bedspring he's going to have a little four-legged company tonight.”
“It's for a business meeting.”
“Yeah? Since when has Thaddeus started paying for it?” said Monk, vanishing back into the interior of the Hothouse.
Thaddeus joined me a few minutes later and we entered the bus. As always, the first thing I noticed was the pungent smell of cat urine mingled with the odor of Bruno and the cats themselves. Not that the interior wasn't clean; it's just that after they'd been confined for a couple of weeks, as the weather had dictated recently, Monk usually had to scrub down the whole bus, and he simply hadn't gotten around to it yet.
There was a huge poker table covered with animal skins bolted to the floor about ten feet behind the driver's seat. Monk had pulled out the cushioned booths that had originally surrounded it after he caught Swede peeking at his cards during a poker game, and had laid in a supply of folding chairs that could be spread more equally around the table. Thaddeus opened up three of them, put them in place, and was just starting to rummage through the refrigerator for something to drink when Mr. Romany walked into the room.
“Good morning, Mr. Flint,” he said, wrinkling his nose at the odor and casting a quick glance at the four caged animals.
“Have a seat,” said Thaddeus. “I'll be with you in a minute.” He pulled out three bottles of ginger ale, handed one to each of us, and withdrew a complicated-looking pocket knife. He opened it up, found the blade that doubled as a bottle opener, took the cap off his soda, and passed the knife around the table. Bruno reached a paw through the bars of his cage, trying to get at either Thaddeus or the soft drinks, and Thaddeus moved his chair a bit farther away.
“First things first: did you speak to Ahasuerus or any of the others on your way to the bus?”
“You told me not to,” replied Mr. Romany.
“Good,” said Thaddeus, allowing himself the luxury of a little smile. “I admire a man wh
o does what he's told. It seems to me that I also told you to see if you could come up with a mutually agreeable proposition.”
Mr. Romany nodded. “We both know that you've got me over a barrel,” he said, “so I'm going to give you my best offer, and I think it will meet with your approval.”
“Our approval,” said Thaddeus. “Tojo's also my business adviser.”
“Oh. I didn't know,” said Mr. Romany, looking a bit flustered.
“Now you do. Please continue.”
“Mr. Flint, I've got to have Ahasuerus and his group back. That much is non-negotiable.”
“Don't use words like ‘non-negotiable’ so early in the conversation,” said Thaddeus. “I find them irritating.”
“Nevertheless, I absolutely must have them back. My career depends on it. My proposal is simply this: if you'll return them, I will convince my superiors to use your carnival and your carnival alone as the base for all future excursion groups.”
“Can you do that?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?” repeated Thaddeus, arching his eyebrows.
“Let me rephrase that,” said Mr. Romany. “I know that I can.”
“What if one of your superiors decides he doesn't like the idea?”
“They're half a galaxy away. They'll be guided by my recommendations.”
“And after Ahasuerus tells them what happened here?”
“It will be his word against mine. And yours.”
“His word and that of eleven other aliens,” corrected Thaddeus.
“Mr. Flint, I don't mean to speak down to you, but you simply have no idea how big the galaxy actually is. It would take my employer's bureaucracy years, lifetimes, to round up the necessary testimony and evidence.”
“And what do you get out of this?” asked Thaddeus.
“My job.”
“And what else?”
“One-third.”
“One-third of what?”
“Everything. It will be worth it, Mr. Flint. Look how much having Ahasuerus’ group has already improved your business. And besides, it won't last forever. I'll be off this dirtball in three or four years.”
