42

Tinnie said, ‘‘So you did your Mr. Sensitive, bull thunder-lizard in Aeleya’s teagarden routine. And, lo! The kid didn’t knuckle under.’’

‘‘A gross exaggeration.’’

‘‘I’m sure. Here comes Saucerhead. Give him the true facts and ask what he thinks you could’ve done better.’’

‘‘I’m telling you this, Red. You keep picking and chipping . . . What the hell is she doing, tagging after Head?’’

‘‘She’’ would be Winger, stacked blonde slapped together on an epic scale. As tall as me. My friend, theoretically. But not a friend I want turning up anywhere where I’m the guy who’ll be held accountable.

Winger is a female Saucerhead Tharpe. With more flexible ethics. You don’t trust her around the family silver. Or anything else of value.

She does try. But she just can’t resist temptation.

Distracted by the approach of big, beautiful blond trouble, I didn’t immediately notice that she wasn’t Tharpe’s only companion.

He’d brought six people along. Well, five. The Remora, Jon Salvation, is just an extension of Winger, these days. He’s not really a person.

The rest were serious thugs. I recognized three of them. They’d be men a man I trusted could trust.

Saucerhead’s knack for selection was perfection in all particulars, excepting only family deserter Winger.

I cut Tharpe out of the crowd. ‘‘You’re gonna be the guy, here, Head. Your job is, keep everybody out unless they bring you a pass signed by me. No exceptions. Not even Winger. There are some hungry ghosts in there.’’

Saucerhead stared with eyes grown large. He didn’t want to believe me. But he couldn’t shove aside the fact that he’d been there with me so many times when the weirdness squared itself on the freaky scale.

‘‘Ghosts?’’

‘‘Something that looks like ghosts. It might be something else a whole lot worse. I’m hoping the Dead Man can figure it out.’’

He saw me give Winger the fish-eye. Again. ‘‘Don’t worry about her, Garrett. The Remora hanging around has straightened her up. She’s awed by the written word. It don’t change, no matter how much you bluster and threaten and try to make it.’’

That was one long-winded homily for Saucerhead Tharpe. ‘‘I’ll take your word. From what I hear tell, though, Jon Salvation isn’t exactly an impartial observer.’’

‘‘You think? Him mooning after her like she’s the born-again avatar of Romassa?’’

‘‘Romassa?’’

‘‘Goddess of physical love. For one a’ them tribes we worked with down in the Cantard. The Avatar was even bigger than Winger.’’ He did cupped hands in front of his chest. ‘‘Her job was to teach the young men coming up about doing it.’’

‘‘She was a real person?’’

‘‘Sure. She was the Avatar. Not the goddess herself but her stand-in. It was a big honor to be picked.’’

You hear everything at least once. After you’ve heard it all, you check out.

‘‘Lot of happy boys around there, I guess.’’

‘‘The Avatar smiled a lot, too.’’

Tinnie had been eavesdropping, off and on. Showing no happiness about the strange ways they have in far-off lands. ‘‘I should’ve gone with Alyx in the coach. Now I have to walk all the way back to midtown.’’

Saucerhead leaned in like he was about to pass along a juicy punch line about how they did things in the Cantard. ‘‘So, what’s with the goofy coat?’’

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