Abasio dragged himself to his own place, where he picked up a sparrow from his most secure hiding place and divided the drug into two vials, hiding two-thirds of it with the remainder of his cache. He gulped a few more stimulants, something to keep him moving. He could not recall ever being so tired.
Upstairs at Purple House, Abasio paused at the door of the Young Chief’s quarters Young Chief and Soniff were inside, playing cards.
“You got it?” the Young Chief asked, glaring at Abasio.
Abasio nodded, glancing sidewise at the older man.
“What?” Soniff asked. He was over forty-five. Maybe even fifty. His hair was mostly gray. He’d been Warlord most of his life. “What you got, Abasio?”
“New stuff,” Abasio said. “Whistler brought it down Called Starlight.”
“Lemme have it,” demanded the Young Chief.
“Wait,” demanded Soniff. “This stuff’s new, you say?” He got up and held out his hand.
Abasio gave him the vial, lowering his voice. “I figured you’d want to ask about it, Soniff. There’s only a little bit here.”
“What’s it do?”
Abasio felt himself flushing. It wasn’t the kind of thing you could say out loud in front of the Young Chief. He leaned forward and whispered. Soniff’s brows went up.
“Well, well,” he said. “Now that’s interesting.” He turned and gave the Young Chief a speculative glance. “Maybe this is what the prophecy meant.… Even so, if it’s that new.…”
Abasio shrugged. “Soniff, I don’t know, so I can’t tell you. Whistler says it’s safe. Whistler says it couldn’t hurt a—a child. ’Course, there’s always the possibility this stuff is so new, he doesn’t really know.”
“Cut all the gabble,” the Young Chief whined. “Soniff, what you messin’ with?”
“Calm down,” Soniff soothed. “Old Chief said I was to keep you safe, and that’s what I’m doin.’ Not about to give you somethin’ could kill you.” He nudged Abasio toward the door. “You run on, Basio. I’ll figure out how to test this.”
Abasio sighed with relief. It was no longer on his neck if something went wrong. Soniff had cut him out, and more power to him. He clattered down the stairs, furiously making plans. First, he’d go to the marketplace to settle his debt. Then he’d sleep. Then he’d start figuring how he could get away again, to go south, to warn Olly about the walkers.
After the last of Sybbis’s repeated visits to the baths, she had returned to the House in a mood of such fractious half-hysteria that it frightened her. Feeling the way she did, it would be all too easy to do something stupid, and now was a time she couldn’t afford any mistakes. She had to be careful!
Part of her discomfort was simple pain. She was so sore, it hurt to move, but she could deal with that. She had pills for pain. Less easy to deal with was the desire to continue doing what she had been doing for the past three days, despite the pain. The desire was infuriating! Why should she have only the Young Chief to look forward to when—when there was this other kind of pleasure?
On the other hand, she also felt profound relief. No doubt she was pregnant. She had to be! If she assumed she was, that meant she had to entice the Young Chief into going through his tiresome, ineffectual act so he would be convinced he had caused her pregnancy. He didn’t often visit her, and she had never tried going to him, though she understood Elrick-Ann had done so all the time.
Never mind. At the moment, she was incapable of enticing anyone. She was, finally and lastingly, exhausted. She had not slept except for tiny little naps during all that time. All she wanted to do was sleep forever.
She was still drowsing a day or so later when she heard men’s voices and glanced through the grillwork of her room to see the Young Chief and Soniff come in and seat themselves beside the fish tank, where water from the rain-tank was endlessly recirculated by a treadmill slave in a room below. The two hags who had been sewing in the arbor rose and bowed themselves away. The women who had been playing games gathered up the tots and went into their sleeping rooms. Within moments the roof garden was empty except for the two men who sat with their heads together for a few moments before the Warlord went off toward Carmina’s room and the Young Chief rose and came purposefully toward Sybbis.
She listlessly straightened the sheets, reminding herself to be seductive, only to find that seduction wasn’t necessary. The Young Chief was in a state of some excitement, which became more frenzied over the next few hours. The fact that he was both unable to bring his own desires to a conclusion and quite unaware that Sybbis had any desires of her own made it more frustrating and painful for her than for him. He went on enjoying himself very single-mindedly until exhaustion set in.
Much later, with the Young Chief lying across her body and gasping like a dying fish, she opened her eyes through a haze of fatigue to see Soniff leaning above her. Surely this was a dream. Soniff wouldn’t dare come in here. Nobody could come in here but the Young Chief and the hag who cleaned up. Her eyes fell closed and she forgot it.
Downstairs, shortly thereafter, Soniff happened upon Abasio, who was uncharacteristically asleep in a corner. He sat down beside him, out of earshot of the other Purples, and shook him awake.
“How much did you pay for that stuff?” he demanded.
“A sparrow,” Abasio yawned. He needed more sleep He couldn’t wake up.
“By the Purples’ honor! A whole sparrow!”
Abasio nodded.
“Well worth it.” Soniff nodded with a sneaky grin. “You’ll be repaid, Abasio I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Abasio raised one eyebrow and said nothing. He’d come to Purple House looking for an excuse to get away.
Soniff lowered his voice. “I tested it myself. That way if the Old Chief asks, I can say I didn’t give the boy anything I didn’t take myself. You don’t need to pretend you don’t know, Basio. I know what people say. Old Chief knows what they say. But you know, the Young Chief is the only son he has left. Three sons who lived to grow up, the Old Chief had, two good ones and—this one.”
Abasio nodded again. Under these particular circumstances, it was safe to nod and say something factual. “They were brave, I know.”
“Very brave. Too damned brave. They got killed, and he was left with this one, Kerf. He wasn’t promising, Basio. No. Not promising.” Soniff shook his head, remembering. “But there was always the possibility he’d grow up into something, you know. And even if Kerf wasn’t much, maybe he’d have a son who … well, so the Old Chief retired and left a few of us old-timers to watch out for the boy. I told Old Chief—well, never mind what I told him, but he said give it time. Well, we’ve been giving it time. Didn’t seem like there was hope in that, either, until now.”
Abasio cleared his throat. “Now?”
“When things got quiet in there, I went in,” Soniff confessed in a whisper. “There she was, all sprawled out. What a woman, Abasio. She’s a wonder, that one. She’s got …” He waxed eloquent about several of Sybbis’s outstanding attributes, as eloquently as a ganger could, mostly expletives, shaking his head in wonderment the while. “And she’s got this little kind of birthmark on her leg, like a skinny little moon.”
“On her leg,” Abasio said, unaware he had spoken at all.
“Up high, inside her leg. She shoulda been enough, all by herself,” Soniff said. “The shape of her. And that sexy little birthmark—”
“Birthmark,” said Abasio from a dry mouth. The word had brought a scene back to him vividly, in color. Himself and a dark-haired, masked girl with a crescent mark high inside her thigh. And wherever he had been at the time, that was where he’d smelled Starlight before he’d smelled it in the market!
“Right,” said Soniff. “And I’ll swear, boy, she’d been done. I’ve watched other times. This was the first time I could swear—”
“Well, we’ll hope she got pregnant, then,” said Abasio, feeling the blood drain from his face. “For the Old Chief’s sake.”
>
“If so, Old Chief’ll owe it to you, Abasio You’ve been a faithful soldier. I know he’d want me to offer. If there’s anything you want, you tell me, and it’s yours.”
Abasio tried to look modestly interested without showing his frantic confusion. Old Chief might owe a good bit more to Abasio than Abasio cared to admit. One memory had triggered others, and all at once he had whole chunks of the lost time coming back to him: himself coming back into town and stopping off at the songhouse, himself drinking and talking about Olly. He must have talked to anyone who would listen. So, so what? Well, someone had heard him babbling and set up an encounter. Him and Sybbis. Him because he was buzzed out of his head and available. Sybbis because—
Well, that part was easy. Because Sybbis didn’t plan to go the way of Elrick-Ann!
Who had set it up? It could have been Sybbis herself. Or maybe someone from the Bloodruns, where she came from. Or—well, who knew who’d set it up? Who cared? It was a good idea, no harm done. At least no harm done if neither of them had known the other one. But if he had seen the birthmark and remembered it, what might Sybbis have seen that she remembered? His tattoos? His crest? Maybe she hadn’t needed to see! Maybe she’d known exactly who he was. Maybe she’d even arranged for it to be him specifically. She was a Chief’s daughter, you had to remember that. Chief’s daughters could sometimes arrange things.
Why him? Because—because he was big and fairly good-looking, at least some said so, and because he was healthy. That was really it. No matter how big he was, how good-looking, the important thing was that he was healthy, because he knew she was, and if she had a baby with an IDDI, Little Purp would know it wasn’t his. That was one thing about Little Purp—he didn’t have an IDDI. No cuckle for him, no dirty drugs. Soniff took good care of him.
But Abasio was healthy. Basio the Cat had kept his feet almost totally dry. So she might have set it up, naming him specifically, in which case—in which case, if she ever got high or buzzed or had one of her famous tantrums, she could throw it in the Young Chief’s face, after which neither of their lives would be worth a black-penny. Not Sybbis’s. Not Abasio’s.
And if she hadn’t arranged it, then somebody else had! Somebody knew. What was to keep that somebody from talking?
“… anything at all you want,” Soniff was saying yet again.
Abasio felt as he had when he was a child and had done something totally forbidden while knowing, beyond any doubt whatsoever, that he was going to be caught and killed. Grandpa would never actually have killed him, but the Purples would, if Old Chief told them to.
“Yes,” said Abasio. “There is something I’d like a lot.”
“Name it!”
“I’d like to have a—a vacation.”
Soniff looked confused. Abasio tried to think of a different way to say it. Leave, Time off. Gangers didn’t take vacations, but Grandpa used to talk about them. “Let’s get this work done, boy, then we’ll ask a neighbor to look after the animals and you and your ma ’n me, we’ll take a vacation.” Grandpa’s vacations had usually involved going to the nearest lake and spending several days standing hip-deep in water in an effort to catch fish that Abasio had come to believe were entirely imaginary.
Abasio swallowed deeply. “I’ve always thought I’d like to go traveling,” he said. “I’ve this urge to see something of the world.”
“Some of the other cities, you mean.”
“Right. Some other cities.”
“Well, why not?” asked Soniff, expansively. “The Purples have affiliates in a lot of the cities, and it’s always good to see the way things get done other places. Why not? I’ll see you get your sparrow back, and that should take you a good way. Take a few weeks.”
“Thanks, Soniff. The Young Chief won’t mind?”
Soniff grinned. “I’ve got a feeling he’s going to be busy for a while. He won’t mind.”
Though Abasio wanted to leave immediately, as soon as he reached his own place he fell once again into exhausted sleep, full of strange and threatening dreams. When he dragged himself awake, he found Elrick-Ann was waiting on the firestairs, herself heavily veiled. He remembered now that he’d invited her to come, as soon as she was able.
“How you feel?” he murmured when he’d let her in.
She answered in a throaty rasp, unlike the voice he knew. “Shoulda died, Basio. You shoulda seen I did.”
“Elrick-Ann—”
“It was you got me out, I know. Who else? And it was you got. Wally Skins dead in the arena too. And my pa dead in the battle. And my brothers, two of ’em.”
“I didn’t know,” he said helplessly.
“They’da died soon or later. Gangers die. That’s what they do bes’.”
He could think of nothing to say to this. “I’m going away for a while, Elrick-Ann I want you to live here while I’m gone.” It had come to him all at once. Even though he felt it unlikely he’d ever come back, it was easier to say it that way: “Just while I’m gone, Elrick-Ann.”
“Why you really goin’ away, Basio?” she asked from the bed where she had curled against the pillows.
“Young Chief gave me some time off so I could see the world.”
“Oh, sure. He so thoughtful. The Young Chief.”
She looked at the things Abasio had piled on the table. His canteen, a blanket roll, and weapons.
“You takin’ weapons to see the world?”
“Last time I left the city, I got treed by monsters. I need somethin’ to keep them off.” There was a fire shooter in the pile. Fire was best against monsters. He’d need all his money, including the sparrow Soniff had refunded him. He’d sent TeClar to the market for a few odds and ends, and no doubt. TeClar had mentioned. Abasio’s journey northward. Abasio had talked at length about. Vanders City at the big lake and how much he wanted to go there, counting on TeClar and CummyNup to spread the word.
Meantime, Abasio would go the opposite direction. He had to warn Olly. Why did the walkers want her? What had she done? Or was she merely a victim? He visualized what would happen when he saw her again, what she would say to him, what she would do. The dreams were hampered by reality. She didn’t respect gangers; he was indisputably a ganger. He might be more acceptable if he shaved his purple crest, but it would be safer to do that after he’d left the city. Slaves had shaved heads, and anybody with a bare scalp was suspect. If he was going to let his natural hair grow out, he’d have to be someplace else when he did it or they’d think he was a runaway.
“It must be nice,” Elrick-Ann said wistfully. “Goin’ somewhere.”
He gritted his teeth and didn’t answer. The idea had actually crossed his mind of taking Elrick-Ann with him. But what would he do with her? She’d hate farm life.
He could borrow a horse from the same Patrol Post where he’d borrowed the last one. If he did, though, the officer would know he’d gone south. Better not. Better go on foot. Or tired as he was, maybe steal the horse, making it look like the animal had broken away.
That meant no saddle. Well, he didn’t need a saddle. He’d never used a saddle when he was a boy.
“What about when I have to go buy food and stuff?” she asked him. “Who goin’ to guard your place then?”
“The Chingeros will be here every day, turn and turn about. You can send them to market for you, or they’ll stay here while you go. Whichever you like.”
“I goin’ go myself. They didn’ cut much on my legs. I can still walk. Got one arm I can’t use, but I can still walk.”
She didn’t mention what they’d done to her face and breast, but Abasio had seen that for himself.
He sat down at his table and wrote rapidly. “Here’s a letter from me, saying you should live here. Just in case somebody asks.”
She took it and looked it over without comprehension. Watching her, he realized suddenly he had written it out, not printed it. Few people in the cities could read script. Mostly it was used by Edgers or farmers, taught at home or in the
ir schools. Everyone else used printed letters. Cursing, he took the paper from her hand and tore it to shreds. It just showed how distracted he was.
“Wrong paper,” he said, seating himself at his table and taking a clean sheet from his small supply. This time he printed the few short sentences, affixing his official gang sign and name at the bottom.
Elrick-Ann bounced gently on the bed. “This a good bed, Basio. I don’ mind sleepin’ here.” Her voice was more cheerful than it had been. The thought of something new in her life had pleased her.
“Sleep here. Live here. Cook your dinner here. When TeClar or CummyNup comes over, you use them for whatever you need. I told them to work for you just the way they’d work for me.”
Her veil dropped aside, and he saw her smile with half her mouth Abasio turned away, hiding the tightness that had come around his eyes. When he’d first seen her at the Greens’, tied to the chair in that room, blood everywhere, herself barely breathing, all he could think about was getting her out But she was right. What he should have done was put her out of her misery. He’d had no right to bring her back the way she was. If it had been him, he’d have wanted somebody just to kill him quick, get it over. Much of the time she was in despair these days, in despair and misery, wanting to die. He knew it. He could tell it from her voice.
All he wanted to do was give Elrick-Ann something that would make her feel better. He ought to be doing something for her, but there was nothing he could do! It confused him, making him angry at her, at himself. Sometimes there just wasn’t any good solution to things. Sometimes nothing you could do was what you would do.
Set that aside. He owned the rooftop shack; she had her pension; living here was better than her living in Purple House Better than any other place she might find for herself Unless the building burned down, she could stay here practically forever.
She regarded him with narrowed eyes. “You want me to keep the place safe, that it?”
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