The Empire Of Time Part 10

"Knew it the second I clapped eyes on you. You got than clean-cut crazy look.

You kill somebody for me, I let you and your girlfriend go."

"Who's the candidate?"

"A blackbirder on Luvah. Lives in New Monterey, runs a chain of p.o.r.notheques

with indent girls."

"Well, ma'am, I'd be glad to oblige, but I can't get through an I-Screen without papers." "I know a knotholer in Little Frisco. Fat little kraut named Klein. He'll send you through."

"Suppose I just went through and disappeared?"

"Suppose you did. We'd sure give your girlfriend one fine working over 'fore we

gave her to the Copos. And we'd tip 'em off about you as well, so you wouldn't last very long... Deal?"

"It's a deal." He had no intention of doing Mrs. Curtice's ch.o.r.es for her; he intended to go nowhere but Farallon City and to kill no one but Gersen and McGowan. But he had to oblige Mrs. Curtice until he could get that wand out of her grip. "When do you want this done?"

"Tomorrow. You go through, drive down to New Monterey, and come right back again. This time tomorrow, you and your friend are on your way."

"This knotholer-can you trust him?"

"Sure." Her legs were hurting her. "He knows his stuff. I've used him four, five times. b.a.s.t.a.r.d charges plenty, but he's good. Why, you scared of going through a knothole?"

"Well-"

"Nothin' to be ashamed of. We're all scared of somethin'. But Klein's got good equipment and he knows how to run it. Know what scares me?"

"Ma'am?"

"Drugs. Head drugs. Worst thing you can ever do to yourself is let yourself take anything that works on your mind. I don't care what, gra.s.s, speed, enkephalin, DDG. Rather drop dead than let some G.o.dd.a.m.n blinkie doctor shoot me full of that c.r.a.p. They make you think they're doin' you a favor-next thing you know, you're doin' them the favors, and you don't even know it. Unh-unh."

They returned to the bus, Mrs. Curtice walking slowly through her pain.

It was early evening when they pulled into a migrant workers' camp in the Alcatraz Valley. Dallow and a few others were detailed to pick up supper at the camp's mess hall; Mrs. Curtice silently oversaw the conversion of the bus into a dormitory. Boards were laid across the aisle between the benches; hammocks were slung, bedrolls brought out, the toilet hooked up to the camp sewer. The meal, when it arrived was something resembling chop suey, spooned out of plastic buckets and eaten at battered picnic tables. Other groups, screened by scrub alder but very audible, were camped nearby.

"How are you feeling?" Pierce asked Anita as they shared their supper.

"I'm freezing, but I'm not as upset as I was."

"Good." He watched the children as they ran through the blue twilight, screaming exuberantly. "Just treat this as some kind of horrible holiday. Well be out of here in a day-two at the outside."

Mrs. Curtice walked slowly up to them.

"Stand up when I approach you."

They obeyed.

"How you gertin' on? Food okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Pierce.

"Good. I look after my people, they look after me. You Americans?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Figured you was. Still got some s.p.u.n.k and brains. These G.o.dd.a.m.n greaseb.a.l.l.s can't zip their flies without me tellin' 'em how. No responsibility. No initiative. "Patron-dependent groups,' they call 'em. Kids are the worst. The old folks used to work, anyway-they remember how to look busy. Guess how old I am."

"Ma'am, I really couldn't."

"Sixty. No s.h.i.+t. And I can whip every a.s.s in this outfit, arthritis or not. Sixty."

"Hard to believe," Pierce said politely.

"Believe it or not, I saw Nixon get shot in '63.I was eight, goin' on nine, the toughest little b.i.t.c.h in Texas. Never forget that day. My daddy always said that was the end of the good times. Now you look at these young clowns, s.h.i.+t! They never heard of Nixon."

"Uh, you mean Kennedy, don't you, ma'am?"

"Kennedy, Nixon, whoever." She shrugged. "Yeah-Nixon resigned or something, didn't he? See, that's what I mean-it was all downhill after '63. Look at America now, takin' orders from greaseb.a.l.l.s in the IF, s.h.i.+ppin' good citizens downtime to make room for endo blinkies. It's a G.o.dd.a.m.n plot, you ask me. The same people that got ridda Nixon and Kennedy. It's all a G.o.dd.a.m.n plot." She s.h.i.+fted her weight. "Well, let's get these people bedded down. Big day tomorrow." She grinned unpleasantly at Pierce.

Everyone was locked inside the bus. Pierce found himself cramped between

Dallow and Anita. "Where does Mrs. Curtice sleep?" he asked.

"She got a little bunk above the cab. Now shuddup and go to sleep-we make too much noise, she give us all a tingle."

"Dallow-" His voice was a murmur. "How'd you like to be a rich, rich man? Have anything you want?"

"Like it fine."

"We can make you a rich man, Dallow. You could have a big car, a house, your own servants if you want 'em."

"Unh-hunh. Sure. What I gotta do for all this?"

"Help us get that d.a.m.n wand away from Mrs. Curtice. That's all."

Dallow snorted softly in the smelly darkness. "Man, you mus' think I dumb.

What I want to ha.s.sle her for, just 'cause you make big promises?" He turned

over, and went to sleep almost at once.

"Always trying," Anita whispered in Greek. "Never mind. By the morning I should have my powers back." She paused. "I wish she would go to sleep-her pain makes me uncomfortable. And her anxiety."

"What are you talking about?"

"She is always a little afraid. And there is an-antic.i.p.ation in her. Not pleasant.

It must be about the job she wants you to do. I suppose your regular employers must feel something similar when they send you out on a job."

"Mmm." He rolled over, so that they lay back to back. "Sleep well. This time tomorrow, the whole plan will be stymied."

Despite Mrs. Curtice's liking for quiet, the bus was noisy-children whined, people joked, quarreled, made love. Anita turned and snuggled against him.

"All the fornication makes me amorous." Her small, smooth hand slipped inside his s.h.i.+rt and did a gentle effleurage across his chest.

"No."

"As you wish." Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered: "When I regain my powers, I'll give you a permanent erection, like a IKosi man, and then I'll do things to your senses that the psychologists never dreamed of." She giggled like a little girl.

"Good night. Go to sleep." He masked his anxiety with enough brusqueness to deceive himself that he was not interested. He began the breathing exercises that would put him to sleep in thirty seconds; just before they worked, he felt her hand move down his ribs, pause a moment, and then withdraw. He fell into a troubled sleep.

Chapter Eight.

Next morning, Pierce had been awake for a long time when the rear door was unlocked and gray light seeped in.

"Pierce," Mrs. Curtice said quietly. He felt a light tingle on his wrist, rose, and stepped over Dallow, who blinked up at bun.

Mrs. Curtice hobbled to one of the picnic benches and slowly seated herself, ignoring the heavy dew. Pierce stood seven or eight meters away from her.

"Christ, it really hurts this morning. Anyway. We're goin' to town today, you an' me, and you're gonna go through Klein's knothole."

"Ma'am."

"Here's the drill." She gave her instructions in a soft, unresonant voice: how to deal with Klein, how to find the man she wanted killed, how to return. Pierce listened attentively, though he knew he would not be carrying out her orders. At some point he would have to overpower her, with or without Anita's help, make his way to Government House in Farallon City, and then do whatever his Briefing impelled.

"Ma'am, it'd sure be easier if you'd come with me into Klein's place."

"Oh, no. I'm an old operator-I don't get caught in a place where there's folks with no bracelets. Anyhow, you're a big boy. You don't need no help."

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n right. Now, be a good boy and get that lazy n.i.g.g.e.r Dallow off his black a.s.s. Sun's d.a.m.n near up-gotta get these people's breakfast."

Pierce rapped on the door, and Dallow was up at once, bellowing at the others.

Yawning and scratching, they stumbled out into the morning mist and shaped up in two lines. Dallow called roll, turned to Mrs. Curtice, and said: "All present, ma'am."

"Okay. Get the bus cleaned up and send a detail out for breakfast. After chow everybody gets the morning off. Bring that j.a.p-n.i.g.g.e.r girl over here." Dallow gestured to Anita, who followed him. Pierce turned to go with them.

"She din't say nothin' about you. Git in that bus and help stow the bedding." Reluctantly, Pierce obeyed, but he stayed close to the open door. It wasn't hard, with his sharpened hearing, to eavesdrop.

"You know what your friend is gonna do today?"

"Yes."

"Show respect!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, you better hope he does it, 'cause if he screws up-or goes AWOL-I'm

gonna mess you up. Know what it feels like to have one of these bracelets round your neck? You don't ever want to find that out, honey. So you make sure he knows what you're in for. Understand me?"

"Yes, Mrs. Curtice... You're in pain." "So what?"

Pierce stepped into the doorway; he could see Mrs. Curtice sitting on the bench, with Anita and Dallow facing her at the usual distance.

"I can take away the pain."

"Is that right."

Then Pierce saw blank astonishment in Mrs. Curtice's face. She gasped and stood erect.

"Oh my G.o.d! Oh-my-G.o.d! What you-what- what you done to me?"