Lowball: A Wild Cards Novel

by George R. R. Martin

  While Eddie fretted, Lupo continued to make his way home. He was now a block from his hotel; the two thugs following him were now on the same side of the street. Half a block behind Lupo and closing in fast, they were no longer making an effort to conceal themselves. Lupo was oblivious, whistling an old disco tune as he strolled along.

  If Eddie was reading the situation right, there probably wasn’t much more than a minute before Lupo got snatched. Something had to be done, and fast.

  Mister Nice Guy was just a couple blocks off, The Gulloon a bit farther away, but they were moving too slowly to offer assistance in time. Only Gary was close enough to do anything, and Lupo hated him.

  Eddie had an idea, but it was going to be tricky.

  As Mister Nice Guy hurried to meet up with the snatchers before they reached Lupo, The Gulloon lumbering along as quick as he could, Gary Glitch scrambled down a fire escape and dashed across the silent street to tug at Lupo’s sleeve. “Hey, dog-breath!” he sneered. “Remember me?”

  Lupo’s hackles literally rose at the sight of the little cartoon. “You’re that big-eared asshole who peeped in my sister’s bedroom!” He raised a fist, murder in his eyes.

  “Yeah, that’s me!” Gary said with a smirk. “And I bet you can’t catch me this time, either!” He turned and scrambled away, leading Lupo away from the two snatchers.

  With an inarticulate growl, Lupo took off after him.

  Two blocks away, Mister Nice Guy rounded a corner. He saw Gary running away, Lupo following him, and the two thugs running after Lupo.

  Mister Nice Guy set off after the two goons. He wasn’t as fast as Zip or Gary, but like them he was capable of inhuman feats. He lengthened his stride, his legs stretching to ten or twelve feet long as he hurried to catch up with the thugs. The pace was tiring but he wouldn’t need to do it for long.

  Gary scrambled on hands and feet down the cold gritty sidewalk. He could easily escape by scurrying up the side of some building, but if he did that Lupo would give up the chase and then get caught by the thugs. So Gary hurried along with frequent glances over his shoulder, fast but not too fast, carefully keeping himself in Lupo’s sight. It was even more exhausting than running full-tilt.

  Back in his apartment, Eddie sat in his chair with fists clenched and sweat running down his sides. With everyone moving so fast it was hard to keep track of who was where. Feet shuffling on the linoleum, he maneuvered his chair across the floor and pulled a New York street map from a shelf.

  Meanwhile, The Gulloon plodded along. Eddie couldn’t spare much attention for him so he just kept going in a straight line.

  Loping with his impossible stride, Mister Nice Guy soon caught up to the two thugs. They didn’t hear his cartoonish footfalls coming up behind them.

  Three more giant steps and he was well past them.

  Then he brought himself to a sudden boinging halt, extending one ten-foot leg across their path.

  This was going to hurt. Eddie knew Mister Nice Guy’s fragile material would crumble like paper under the impact of two thundering brutes, but he hoped it would stall them. He braced for the impact.

  But as soon as he saw Mister Nice Guy’s extended leg, Fish-Face shouted, and tried to stop himself. Big and strong though he was, Fish-Face’s reflexes were merely human, and in trying to stop he stumbled and fell, tripping Scarred Ear in the process.

  Mister Nice Guy pulled back his leg like a retracting tape measure, a fraction of a second before the thugs fell across the place where it had been.

  “Gotcha!” cried Lupo.

  Eddie jerked his attention back to Gary Glitch, who stood frozen like a scared rabbit in the wolf-man’s path. Eddie had forgotten to keep him moving while Mister Nice Guy was dealing with the thugs. With a squeak Gary jumped up, barely dodging Lupo’s grasp, and ran at top speed down the street.

  But Eddie couldn’t afford to ignore Mister Nice Guy for long … Fish-Face and Scarred Ear were disentangling themselves and in a moment they would be all over him.

  That was exactly what Eddie wanted. He put Mister Nice Guy’s thumb to his nose and blew an enormous raspberry.

  Enraged, Fish-Face leaped up from the sidewalk. But his grasping hand closed on thin air as Mister Nice Guy swerved out of the way, his body curving into a parenthesis. Scarred Ear growled and tried to grab him in a bear hug, but he ducked that too, bending like a balloon animal.

  The two snatchers weren’t as dumb as they looked. They charged him simultaneously, from opposite directions. But Mister Nice Guy leaped straight up in the air at the last minute, grabbing onto the horizontal bar of a streetlight as the two thugs collided where he’d been.

  That bought Eddie a moment to look in on his other characters. Gary was still running full-tilt with Lupo in hot pursuit, and The Gulloon was still plodding along, so far away from the action that he might as well be on another planet.

  Eddie couldn’t just keep his characters running forever. They might be cartoons, but they still tired … or maybe it was just Eddie who was getting tired. Either way, he had to find a place to stash Lupo pretty soon. The thugs had intercepted Lupo on the way to the White House, so they must know he roomed there. Fort Freak was too far away, and anyway the cops wouldn’t take Lupo seriously.

  There was only one place in New York City that Eddie knew was safe.

  No. He couldn’t possibly.

  But he had to do something.

  Eddie bit his lip and redirected Gary on a southbound trajectory.

  Toward his own home.

  Even as Gary ran, though, Eddie realized none of this would make any difference if the two snatchers lost interest in Mister Nice Guy and took off after Lupo again. Lupo wasn’t that far ahead of them, and they could easily catch him before Gary reached Eddie’s door.

  Eddie returned his full attention to Mister Nice Guy, who was still hanging on the streetlight. Below him the two thugs had recovered their feet. But instead of either giving up on Mister Nice Guy or screaming at him, Fish-Face was just smiling up at him—the most disturbing toothy grin Eddie had ever seen. Meanwhile, the other thug was talking in Russian on his cell phone. What the hell?

  Then Fish-Face reached out and grasped the lamppost in one gray, slimy hand.

  And a horrible, juddering electric shock surged through the metal and into Mister Nice Guy.

  Mister Nice Guy shrieked, his body vibrating and his bones becoming visible through his flesh. His hands clenched the lamppost in an uncontrollable spasm. The pain was incredible. Eddie gasped and curled up like a prawn in his rolling chair, and Gary and The Gulloon both collapsed where they were.

  But pain was something Eddie dealt with every day. When the electric shock stopped, Eddie was still alive, still conscious, and still in control of all his creations.

  And really pissed off.

  Fish-Face seemed disappointed that Mister Nice Guy hadn’t dropped off the lamppost like an overripe fruit. He reached for the post again.

  Before he could touch it, Mister Nice Guy stretched out his arms, legs, and torso like a striking lizard’s tongue, socking Fish-Face right in the jaw with both feet.

  It wasn’t much of an impact—it probably hurt Mister Nice Guy more than it did Fish-Face—but it was such a surprise and came from such an unexpected direction that it sent the joker tumbling over backward. Mister Nice Guy landed on the sidewalk beyond him, his extended legs coiling like springs, and bounced away into the night.

  The other thug just stood there agog for a moment, until Fish-Face snarled something at him. He put the phone in his pocket and began running after the escaping cartoon.

  Exhausted and stunned from the electric shock, Mister Nice Guy wobbled on his boinging, Slinky-like legs. But he couldn’t slow down now. He headed north … back the way he’d come, and directly opposite the direction Gary was leading Lupo.

  He risked a look over his shoulder. Both thugs were following him. Good.

  Eddie switched his attention to Gary Glitch, who still lay where
he’d fallen when Fish-Face had shocked Mister Nice Guy. Gary looked up from the pavement … to find headlights and a blaring horn bearing down on him. He yelped and scuttled away, fingernails tearing on the asphalt … reaching the curb just in time. But before he could catch his breath, Lupo was in the crosswalk and closing fast. Gary shook himself, looked around, and scrambled off toward Eddie’s apartment as fast as he could.

  Now Eddie, still dazed from the shock, was running two characters just fast enough to keep ahead of their pursuers. It was an incredible strain. Even with two fingers on his map he was having trouble keeping track of them. But he couldn’t just make them vanish … he had to lead Lupo to his apartment, and at the same time he had to keep the two thugs as far away from him as possible for as long as possible.

  God, he was tired.

  By now Gary was only two blocks from Eddie’s apartment door. He looked behind to make sure Lupo was still following.

  Lupo was. But there was also someone following him, and gaining. A big blonde with a broken nose. The fourth snatcher.

  How the hell—? But then Eddie remembered that the bald thug had made a phone call not long after Lupo had gotten away. Gary ran faster, hoping Lupo could keep up.

  But even if he could … they were all heading straight for Eddie’s home. He needed help, and fast. If only he had Zip in play … Could he handle four characters at once?

  Eddie opened his eyes and reached for his sketchpad.

  It wasn’t easy drawing Zip while also keeping his other characters in motion. But finally the hyperactive little hamster coalesced into existence on Eddie’s kitchen floor. He shook himself, then squeezed out through the window and shot off across the city toward Fort Freak. Zip had no criminal record, and with his speed he could plausibly claim to be a witness to the situation going down near Eddie’s apartment.

  Assuming he could make himself understood, and that the cops would listen to a football-sized manic hamster with a squeaky machine-gun voice. Eddie had to hope that Jokertown cops were prepared to handle a crime report from anything.

  Then Eddie’s attention was jerked back to Mister Nice Guy, as Scarred Ear picked him up by the neck. Fish-Face was there too, grinning a vicious, toothy grin. Electricity began to crackle …

  … and The Gulloon, who’d been plodding along unattended this whole time, slammed into all three of them. He wasn’t going very fast, and he didn’t actually weigh very much, but he was big, and he sent the whole group tumbling like bowling pins.

  Eddie took the opportunity to direct his attention to Zip, who had just arrived at Fort Freak. Even at this hour the station was brightly lit. Zip careened in the door, past the desk sergeant, and into the wardroom, looking for Beastie, or Stevens, or …

  There! Detective Black!

  “Franny!” Zip squeaked, waving his little paws. The detective looked around, his gaze passing well over the hamster’s head. Zip stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing, almost supersonic whistle. “Down here, fuckhead!”

  That got his attention.

  “It’s the snatchers!” Zip squeaked like a CD on fast-forward. “The snatchers! They’re chasing Lupo! You have to come right away!” He gave Eddie’s address.

  And Mister Nice Guy looked up to find Fish-Face’s heavy boot coming down toward his head.

  Eddie swore and made both Mister Nice Guy and The Gulloon vanish. Clutching his head from the pain, he returned his attention to Gary Glitch and the wolf at his door.

  Gary had just reached Eddie’s apartment building. With a great effort he squeezed his way under the front door and collapsed, panting, inside.

  Lupo came charging up. Seeing Gary through the glass, he pounded on the door with both fists. Eddie paused with his finger on the door buzzer. What the hell was he doing?

  “You peeping asshole!” Lupo yelled, his voice muffled by the thick security glass. “I’m gonna get you if it’s the last thing I…”

  Behind Lupo, Gary saw the fourth kidnapper.

  Eddie pressed the door buzzer and sent Gary scrambling away, up the steps.

  Lupo snarled and snatched the door open, tearing after Gary.

  Gary paused for just a moment on the first landing, looking back, hoping against hope …

  … but the door, swinging gently closed on its hydraulics, did not click shut. A moment later it slammed open again, revealing the big nat. Lupo, hearing the noise behind him, turned.

  And then the whole scene was flooded with red and blue lights and a voice on a bullhorn. “You! At the door! This is the police! Stop and put your hands up!”

  The man stopped in the doorway. But he didn’t put his hands up. Instead he turned and ran, vanishing into the night. “Halt!” cried the bullhorn. But the pounding footsteps kept going. The flashing lights followed.

  All was quiet and still for a moment. Then Lupo turned back to Gary, who still stood stunned on the landing. The wolf-man’s lips curled back and his fists clenched.

  Eddie pressed the intercom button. “Forget about him, Lupo!” he shouted. “It’s me you need to be talking with.”

  Lupo looked around, then noticed the intercom grille behind him. The door was still easing shut. “Eddie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know this little fucker?” It hurt Eddie’s already-throbbing head to hear Lupo’s grating voice simultaneously through Gary’s ears and, with an echoing delay, through the intercom.

  “In a manner of speaking.” Eddie swallowed. “Please, just listen to me.”

  Lupo gave Gary a vicious glare, but he stepped to the closing door and stopped it with one foot. “I’m listening.”

  “Look, the situation’s kind of complicated and I’m not proud of it, but right now the important thing is this: the snatchers are real, and they’re after you. But I … but my friend here”—he made Gary wave—“he led you away from them, while some of my other, uh, friends, distracted the thugs and called for help.”

  “How do I know you aren’t in cahoots with the snatchers?”

  “If I were, would I have given Franny those sketches that looked just like them?”

  “Urr…” Lupo growled, looking uncertain.

  As Gary looked down the stairs at Lupo, Eddie wondered what the hell he was doing. How could he let this alcoholic, wolfish joker into his own home? He might work with the police sometimes, but he wasn’t a cop—he wasn’t sworn to serve or protect anyone.

  But still … saving Lupo from the snatchers had felt so good. He’d never dreamed that an ugly, twisted little joker like himself could have such a big impact on the world.

  And Lupo was, if not a friend, at least someone who had treated Eddie like a human being. Eddie pushed the intercom button again. “I swear I am not a snatcher, Lupo. But the snatchers are still out there.” He released the button, paused, swallowed, pushed it again. “If you come upstairs, I’ll … I’ll keep you safe for a while, until we can get this mess sorted out.”

  Lupo blinked, his big brown eyes shining in the vestibule’s harsh fluorescent light. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Lupo considered the idea for a bit, then stepped inside and let the door close behind him. “Okay.”

  Gary led Lupo up to Eddie’s apartment. Lupo regarded the little cartoon with clear suspicion, but followed quietly, trudging heavily up the stairs. It was only now that Eddie realized just how exhausted Lupo must be after that long chase.

  What a pair they were.

  Finally the cartoon and the joker stood outside Eddie’s door.

  Eddie hesitated, the brass doorknob cold in his hand. He hadn’t let another human being into his apartment in over five years.

  He turned the knob.

  Galahad in Blue

  Part Two

  APSARA SASHAYED INTO THE bullpen. Every male and even a few females paused to watch her progress. Everything was in motion, hips swaying, hair swinging, boobs bouncing. Last night that rack had been pressed against Franny’s bare chest,
the hair wrapped around him mirroring her arms’ embrace. Franny was glad the desk hid his involuntary physical reaction. It was like being sixteen again. Next, he thought, I’ll break out, and my voice will start cracking.

  As she drew closer Franny could see the beautiful oval face was set in lines of worry and alarm, and the dark eyes were wide. Franny suppressed the desire to sigh. Looked as if her phi—otherwise known as her pissant wild card power—was giving her hell again. As soon as she got close enough for him to be able to see it, her dark eyes filled with tears. She was the only woman he’d ever met who could cry and stay beautiful. No red nose, no snot on the upper lip. Franny steeled himself for whatever crisis had arisen.

  “Frank.” Once they’d started dating she stopped calling him Franny. “I need to talk to you. Someplace private.” Her voice trembled a bit, and cynicism gave way to actual alarm. Maybe something serious had happened.

  He led her outside because there was no place in the cop shop that he would have considered truly private. They settled on a bus stop bench. Franny shifted to face her. “Okay, honey, what’s wrong?”

  “My parents,” she wailed. “They’re coming to visit.”

  Blinking in confusion Franny asked, “Isn’t that a good thing? You said you really loved your folks.”

  She nodded vigorously, tears flying off her outrageous eyelashes. “I do, but I told them I was a cop.”

  “Well, you are sort of a cop. I mean, you work for the precinct.”

  “No, a real cop. A decorated cop. With a badge. And a uniform. And a gun.”

  Baffled, Franny stared at her for a few moments. “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “Because they love me so much, and they’re so proud of me, and I haven’t done anything to earn that. If they find out I’m just a file clerk they’ll put on a brave face, but they’ll be so disappointed, and … and I just can’t bear that.” Her voice broke on a tiny little sob. Instinctively Franny gave her a hug and patted her on the back as she wept.

  “Okay, I get the whole parent/child issue, I’ve got the famous cop father thing going on, but I’m not seeing how I come into this.”