A Tale Of The Continuing Time - The Last Dancer Part 51

"But, d.a.m.n it, you're messing up our-"

Trent did not raise his voice at all. He just started talking, and a.s.sumed that everybody in earshot would shut up and listen. A good trick; it worked. "If you don't stop talking at me," said Trent carefully, "I'm going to have your arms broken."

Jay blinked. "You're apacifist."

Trent actually grinned at him. "I used to think that too. But I'm not. I'm a, what's the word, there isn't one, a person who doesn't believe in killing. But if you don't shut up I'll have the big clown break your arms, okay?"

"Listen, d.a.m.n it. If you thi-"

"Wait." It cut Jay short; he stopped in midword. Trent spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear him. "Rule One: Pay attention. Rule Two: Don't whine. Rule Three: Don't take any s.h.i.t from,anyone. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Good. Stop bothering me. Corona-"

Jay said, "But-"

Trent said, "Break his right arm." He turned to me. "You had a Player arrive here recently."

I said slowly, "Yes-I think so. She's just a girl."

"What's the Player's name?"

"Mich.e.l.le Altaloma. Jay's cousin, they call her Sh.e.l.l." I stopped when Jay screamed, waited for the scream to subside. "I mean Jay does."

"Cute name. She staying with him?"

"I think so."

To the clown who'd been holding the laser on us, Trent said, "Go get her, take her to the Station." He turned back to Jay. "You okay?"

Jay glared at him. "f.u.c.k you."

Trent nodded. "Break the other arm."

Jay started to scream; he stopped midway through, when his left arm snapped. For a moment he just gasped for breath, staring at Trent; Trent stood looking back at him. "You should learn to pay attention,"

Trent said after a moment. "It would save you no end of trouble." He gestured to a pair of smaller clowns. "Take them somewhere safe and fix the loud one's arms. I don't want to listen to him anymore."

They stashed us together in one of my own holding cells, down the hall from my office. I'd have been indignant if I hadn't been numb.

"Christ," said Jay. "First he called me stupid and then he broke my arms."

"He didn't call you stupid," I said. "He was just repeating something someone else said about you."

"But-"

"I don't think you're stupid," I told him. "Notreally stupid. I just think you talk too much."

He shut up.

About fifteen minutes later Trent stopped in to see us briefly, at the same time the medbot arrived to take care of Jay's arms. "How are your arms?"

Jay said, "They hurt."

"They will," Trent agreed. "Better remember to ask the medbot for a painkiller, or it won't do anything but set the bones and inject a nanovirus to help them knit." To me he said, "Thank you for your help. I've got some business to take care of, but I'd like you to join me over at the Relay Station, in about an hour."

"I'll check my calendar."

Trent nodded. "Thank you." He turned to go- "Hey!"

He turned back for a moment. "Yes?"

"I have a lot of questions-"

"And I'll answer them, later."

I don't know where the question came from, or why it suddenly seemed important:"Did you really walk through a wall once?"

Trent grinned at me. "Don't believe everything you audit." The door unrolled and left us alone with the medbot tending Jay's arm.

After a bit Jay said, "You know, he reminds me of my grandfather."

"Oh?"

Jay winced as the medbot grasped his arm and braced him, prior to pulling the broken bone back into position. "Plainest-spoken man I ever knew, my grandfather. If he told you he'd do something, he did it.

If there were more people out there like' him and Trent, there'd be a lot less-" Jay screamed, and then breathed deeply, rapidly, for several seconds, before resuming. "There'd be a lot less misunderstanding in the world."

I gave Jay long enough for the painkillers to take effect. "Want to tell me?"

He didn't look at me. "Tell you what?"

"What are you? Reb, Claw-Peaceforcer?"

"TrueBreed," he said shortly.

"Oh." That told me a great deal. Somehow I wasn't surprised. TrueBreed isn't as well known as Project Superman, but anybody who follows the Rebs even casually-say, Chief of Security at Halfway-knows about their existence. "Reb, then. Why are you up here? Something to do with the Relay Station, I've got that, but-"

He spoke wearily. "Neil, does it matter?"

Point. "How did you pa.s.s the psychometric?"

"Vasily."

That was mildly interesting. "A Russian in the Johnny Rebs?"

"There're more Russians in the Rebs than in the Erisian Claw, Neil. The Claw is heavily European; Europeans look down on Russians."

Learn something new every day. "How didVasily pa.s.s? I tested him myself."

Jay nodded. "We recruited him afterward. We almost tried to recruit you. If we'd had more time to work with, Sh.e.l.l was supposed to give it a shot. Your psychometric said you'd be responsive."

"Responsive? Well, she's a cute girl," I conceded. "One last question?"

"Sure."

"Is she really your cousin?"

He grinned a trifle crookedly. "True story."

I nodded. I couldn't think of anything else I wanted to know from him.

About an hour later, he said, "It was just business, Neil. I've enjoyed your company a lot."

"Sure."

About an hour after that a pair in s.p.a.ce Force uniforms came for me.

"Sorry about the delay," said Trent as I was ushered into Marc's office. He stood with his back to me, looking out the huge bay window Marc had installed there, looking out on most of Halfway, theUnity, and Earth. "We had a problem."

"What?"

Trent didn't turn around. "Securing Administration Central. One of your people hid, and then when he was found he fought."

My voice wasn't entirely steady. "Who?"

"Vasily Koslov. Your number two."

"And?"

Trent was silent a beat. "Dead. He cut both the legs off one of our girls. The rest of her squad shot him nine or ten times." Trent turned to face me. In low gravity, tears move very slowly. Trent the Uncatchable looked at me through his tears and said, "I'm so sorry."

We took a pressurized sled together, over to the Halfway Relay Station, and talked very briefly. Trent wanted to know if Vasily had had a family.

"None that I know of. It would be in his file."

Trent nodded. Muscles in his jaws were clenching and unclenching as I watched. "Of course."

"A girlfriend I think he might have been serious about."

"We'll do what we can for her."

"Trent, is this worth it?"

I knew the cold fury in his voice was not directed at me. "It's never worth it."

Mich.e.l.le Altaloma waited for us, angry and scared, when we docked at the Relay Station. The Relay Station is not large; you can fit maybe twenty people inside, tops. Half a dozen s.p.a.ceFarers in s.p.a.ce Force uniforms, Sh.e.l.l, myself and Trent made a cozy enough fit.

She looked like she'd dressed hastily; a pair of jeans and a pale blue sweater. Without the fashion ensemble she looked even younger.

She was seated in front of a full-sensory traceset; she rose when we cycled through.

Trent didn't make her wait. "You're the Player who thought this stunt up?"

Sh.e.l.l said stiffly, "Yes," and I wondered what "this" was.

"Great. You want to explain to me how this was supposed to work?"

She stared at him a moment. "Who are you?"

Trent seemed to realize for the first time that he was still wearing the clown uniform. He glanced down at himself, seemed briefly embarra.s.sed. "Oh. Sorry. I'm Trent."

In an entirely different tone of voice, she said, "Really." I could see she believed him instantly. Not surprising; I had. "So what do I call you, anyway? 'Sieur Uncatchable?"

He said simply, "My name is Trent Castanaveras. You can call me Trent."

Sh.e.l.l nodded slowly, looking him up and down. "Suzanne Montignet designed you."

"Yes. And you're second generation TrueBreed."

"Yes."

The two genies stood there, just looking at each other, for a long moment, and then I saw them both, at almost the same moment, shake themselves slightly. Trent spoke as though they were the only two present: "You'll be an interesting person to know, someday."

Sh.e.l.l actually flushed. "f.u.c.k you too."

"Tell me about the takedown. How it was supposed to go."

"Why should I?"

"If I like it, I might still do it."

Sh.e.l.l took a slow, deep breath, looking searchingly at the man's stone expressionless features, and then seemed to accept it. "Okay. Here's how it's supposed to go."

For most of an hour Trent listened to her, nodding occasionally, asking questions where I didn't recognize half thewords he was using. At one point he interrupted her: "Who ran this simulation?"

"The chain breakdown? An AI named Ring, works with the Claw. I needed it; no human could have run the simulation at the depth I needed."

Trent, sitting in the chair facing her, said absently, "Speak for yourself," and she flushed again, though I and perhaps she could tell it was nothing but a throwaway comment. 'All right, so you have two, three of the supplemental InfoNet Relays, the little talk-to-me's. You'll need them-"

"We'll haveall of them," she said swiftly.

He waved a hand. "That's minor. Halfway Relay is the big one. How were you going to control the traffic when the Relay Stations started going down?"

"Ground stations, primarily-"

"No, I thought of that one myself. It doesn't work. If-"