Faded Steel Heat

36

Despite Alyx's efforts at self-reassembly, she drew a hard look from Belinda after we invited ourselves into Weider s study. Belinda was head to head with Marengo North English when we arrived. Their discussion seemed very amicable. Marengo's niece was not in evidence.

The dark side always did get along well with the business community.

Weider rumbled, "Garrett! Perfect timing! We were just talking about you."

"We've got problems, boss," I said. "They just tried to kidnap Tom."

"They did," Alyx reminded me.

"She's right." I told it quickly. Then I asked North English, "You know anything about this Black Dragon freecorps or its commander, Colonel Norton?"

Marengo made an effort to be egalitarian but only because he was a guest where I was held in high regard. I doubt that he would have spoken to me ordinarily. "I've never heard of either one before. But I'm no student of the war. I put it behind me when I came home. Norton and his Black Dragons may have operated without my permission."

You sarky rascal. "They didn't get mine, either, but I wasn't in the army. I didn't spend much time in the Cantard proper. I'm not up on all the unit names."

Weider beamed like a cherub. He was so pleased to see us kids getting along. He told us, "There'll be a bunch of generals in here later, Garrett. I'll ask questions."

I noted, "You don't seem much worried about Tom."

"How likely is it that anybody could carry someone out of here unnoticed tonight?"

"I don't know. They got in. They have a plan. They must have a getaway scoped. All the suicide commandos got used up in the Cantard."

Weider was not alone there with Belinda and North English. Staying quiet but handy were several men from the brewery docks. Weider told them, "You boys spread the word about what you just heard. And tell Gilbey to come up."

"Tell everybody to watch for Kittyjo, too," I told them. "I haven't been able to find her. Max, these people have some kind of sorcery going. If you take your eyes off them even for a second, they disappear."

That angle was scary. It could mean Black Dragon Valsung had dangerous connections on the Hill.

"Weirder and weirder," Weider grumbled. "Why me? I don't know three people in the sorcery racket and none of them by their first names. They wouldn't pussyfoot, either. They'd stomp me like a bug."

Fire danced in the fireplace. Weider went to stare into the flames. He crooked a finger, calling me away from the others. He murmured, "Am I going to get hurt again?" At the moment he seemed lost, storm-tossed, without compass or anchor.

"Not if I can help it," I promised. I gave North English a hard look. He didn't melt. Somebody probably looked at him hard before. He was all tempered up.

Alyx hugged her father. "Don't worry, Daddy. Garrett will take care of everything."

Which Garrett was that? I wondered. This one hadn't shown me a lot so far.

Weider settled into a comfortable chair. He looked befuddled, unable to keep up with events. I didn't blame him, though that was a side of him new to me.

North English said, "I gather you're not in sympathy with the aims of The Call, Mr. Garrett."

That was a leading remark if ever I heard one. "But I am in sympathy. Very much so. I just have trouble with some of the individuals involved. Some of your biggest big mouths. Are they really the kind of guys we want telling us how to run our lives? Not to mention that most of them aren't really interested in rights at all. They just think they can grab something for themselves."

North English eyed me warily, as though he'd opened his bread-box and found a snake smiling back. "The most heartfelt cause will accumulate fanatics and exploiters, Mr. Garrett. That's human nature. It's unfortunate but it's difficult to recruit calm, rational activists like yourself."

Now who was shitting who? "Us calm, rational activists should keep the wild-eyed, wooly-haired types under control. They alienate more people than they convert."

North English's eyes narrowed. He didn't like being lectured by one of the unwashed. In his secret heart he approved of The Call's excesses.

It doesn't take long for any of us to weave elaborate webs of justification and self-deception.

I didn't think much of North English but he was Max Weider's friend and Relway did hope I could slide inside the movement. "I suppose I'm still bitter about my run-in with some of your rogue nutcases a while back."

North English's negotiations mask came out. "Yes. I heard about that. We do try to weed that sort out—which is why so many splinter groups form. Those men were weeds already scheduled to be pulled."

I entertained a suspicion that Marengo had misspoken but refrained from making myself less ingratiating than my history and social standing rendered me already. Relway wouldn't do me any favors if I wasn't in a position where I could help him.

"Please excuse me," I said. "I'm just cranky. I've been trying to help Mr. Weider and things haven't gone well."

"I understand. See me when you're in a better mood. The Call is looking for me like you, men who have been south and who have seen the worst and have given their best and have returned to face indifference, ingratitude, or outright disdain. Men who came home to find everything they fought for controlled by creatures who did nothing to defend it... Pardon me. Without my niece to restrain me I tend to rant. Unfortunately, ranting isn't a good way to attract worthwhile new friends, either."

Marengo North English was one of the richest men of Karenta. Wealth is a superb insulator. Why did he find it emotionally fulfilling to involve himself in a working-class movement? Guys at his level didn't come home to find there was no work. They never worked anyway. "Garrett."

"Mr. Weider?"

"Time is passing."

"Yes, sir." That was as close as ever he came to telling me how to do my job.