I heard a voice and I looked down the stream and saw Alna standing in a meadow, her arms filled with wildflowers. She was wearing a bright yellow dress of material that caught every little breath of air and flowed with it. The meadow surrounding her, as beautiful as it was, seemed oddly familiar—somehow threatening.
I heard the voice again and opened my eyes.
I was back in the furnace on the sand in the middle of a bunch of sharks who hadn't had a shower in weeks. I couldn't figure out who smelled worse: me or Alna.
I sat up and remembered where I had seen the meadow from my dream before. That had been the view from my cell at Lancaster Juve. Every year we used to have to cut the hay out of that meadow and I would get sinus problems.
Nance, Garoit, and Ondo were standing over us.
"What?"
Nance pointed south toward the point scouts. "Rhome and his top ten are back. That camp belongs to a gang called the Hand, and Ondo says they shouldn't be here. He figures they're on their way to take on Kegel through the back door."
"What's that to us?" I asked as I disentangled myself from Alna.
Nance squatted in front of me and lowered her voice. "Maybe nothing. Maybe the Hand is our ticket through Kegel. Maybe we can join forces. Maybe we can thin them and take their food and water. What we took from Kegel's scavenger patrol won't last forever. Also, they have weapons, ammo, and riding critters. Maybe enough to outfit the rest of the Razai. Anyway, we're heading on up to the point for a talk. I want you along."
I pushed myself to my feet and put my sheet over my head. When it was in place, I asked Nance, "You heard about Dick Irish?"
"Yeah, I heard."
"Well?"
"Well, what?" She folded her arms and shook her head. "It's a little late, if you're asking for permission."
"I'm not asking for permission. I just wanted to know what you—I mean—" I stood there feeling very hot in the face. "Okay, I guess I was asking for permission. You're right. It is a little late."
"You did what you did, and it's done with, Bando. If you can find something useful out of it, keep it. For the rest, if it moves, let it pass. If it doesn't move, piss on it."
As I fell in behind Nance, I tried to remember what the little pumpkin-colored book had said about letting go. In considerably different words it was pretty much what Nance had said. It was something about accepting the things I can't change, and me killing Dick Irish was one thing that no one in the universe could change. I wondered how you accept such a thing, and I sort of wished I had stayed for the CSA meeting.
The smell of my body crawled out the neck of my sheet and hung there beneath my nose. As we hoofed it I wondered what would happen if I stripped and scrubbed myself down with sand. With my luck, I figured, I'd probably get some kind of fatal skin crud.
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The Hand
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Up at the point camp, Nazzar's best ten were a short distance away resting. Sarah and her generals, Nance, Garoit, Stays, and I were in a circle around Ondo as he smoothed the sand and drew his map on the smoothed portion with fine black sand from a pouch at his belt. He would hold some of the black sand in his fist and pass it above his map, quickly sketching in terrain features, dotting in some boundary lines, and lettering in the gang names. The last mark he made was the X showing our position.
When he was finished he reattached the pouch of black sand to his belt, rested his elbows on his knees, and looked around at the faces. "You know already about Boss Kegel. His territory runs from where the Big Grass starts down to the northwest shore of the Sea of Stars." He reached out his arm and pointed with his stick. If the Sea of Stars was almost two thousand miles long, Boss Kegel's territory was as wide as the North American continent. If he only had a hundred and fifty thousand in his gang, there might be some big gaps through which to sneak. We all watched and listened as Ondo pointed and talked.
"Here at the east shore of the Sea of Stars is where the Hand's territory begins. The Hand is bossed by a sewer slug from Planet Ghitan who calls hisself Carlo T. He thinks he's some kind of criminal royalty, and he hates Kegel's guts worse'n locks. You know the camp down there is the Hand, because of the painted hands on the rumps of the lughs. You'll see different colors, and they belong to the different units."
He pointed. "The Hand runs the east shore of the Sea of Stars, and all of the Sunrise Mountains. When I came over from First Landin', I fell in with the Hand."
"How'd you wind up with Kegel?" asked Stays.
"The Hand won't take just anyone. You need to be born into it, or have a certain kind of name. Since Carlo had a message he wanted to send to Kegel anyway, he had his guard run me over the mountains to the Sea of Stars. They took me in a boat and dumped me on Kegel's shore."
"What's this gang called Spanish between Kegel and the Southern Divide?" I asked.
Ondo looked from me to Nance and the others. "I'll run down what I know." He pointed at the territory called Spanish. "It's named after Boss Tommy Spanish. The bloodiest battle I was ever in was with the Spanish gang. I don't know where Tommy comes from, but nobody messes with the Spanish gang. He has ways of killin' that make parchin' to death in the Forever Sand look fun. The word is he's talkin' to the shadows." Ondo tapped the side of his head, then pointed at the territory south of the Sea of Stars marked Lido.
"The boss of this gang is Quana Lido, a woman. I don't know much about the Lidos except that they make the fire cubes and the blue goo for the ammo. Once I was on a boat trip to the south shore where we traded some wild grain for the blue stuff."
He pointed at the west. "Morret and Abuat, I just know their names. We never tangled or traded with em'."
He moved back to the edge of the circle, squatted down, and wrapped his arms around his knees. Nance nodded at Sarah. "Let's hear it."
Bloody Sarah nodded. "It was easy to get into the camp." She thought for a second. Whatever feeling it was, she shrugged it off and continued. "From what Ondo and the others overheard and saw, it looks as though the Hand is making a raid on Kegel's northern territory. They're camped in one big clump of about eight hundred men and women, mostly men. They're armed, but not alert. The way we read it, they don't expect anyone else to be in the desert. Their mounts are away and downwind from the camp under light guard. The camp guards they did put out don't know what they're doing, and are in all the wrong places if they did know."
"What are you saying?" asked Nance.
"I think we can take them, if that's what we decide to do."
I spat on the sand and asked, "Is that what we're going to be? Like all of the other animals out on the dunes, killing and grabbing? I just had to take a life to meet payback on a murder. Isn't what applies on the small scale going to apply to the Razai as a group?"
Nazzar growled at me, "Hey, chili pepper, why don't you go out and start a flowers and love movement? You can call it Pussies for Peace."
I started getting up, but Stays's hand on my shoulder kept my ass in the sand. "Attacking the Hand is an option, Chief," he said. "There are other options. We'll consider them all."
I simmered down, trying to remember that the only things I would be accomplishing by a fight with Nazzar would be hiding how I felt about thinning Dick Irish and a premature trip to the Big Toaster. Nazzar's yard monster work back at the Crotch wasn't just for show, although he had a well-built body as a result of all the time with the irons. The point general was also quick on his feet, and deadly fast with his fists. I'd seen him mince a mokker or three over the years. Me tangling with Nazzar was just suicide under an alias.
I quit my struggle against Stays's hand. As I shrugged I nodded at Stays. "Okay.
Garoit stood up. "What about making up a delegation to go and feel them out about helping us, or maybe letting us join up with them?"
"The second you walk into their camp," said Sarah, "there goes your surprise, and we can't take the
m unless we have the element of surprise."
"We have them outnumbered," said Nance.
Sarah nodded. "Yes, we have more bodies than they do, but only a few of them are armed or have enough training to be fighters. We've got around four hundred and seventy rifles that work, and enough ammo for eight or ten shots per rifle. If we hit them in camp there won't be more than fifty of them that can get it together and be armed in time to defend themselves. If we announce ourselves first, we'll be facing eight hundred rifles, and every one of those jokers was carrying double belts of ammo."
"If you join up with the Hand," cautioned Ondo, "Kegel will eat you alive. The Hand's big, but it's no match for Kegel. At least they's no match for Kegel on Kegel's own ground."
Ow Dao chuckled. When he spoke his voice rumbled out, "Ondo, you said that Boss Kegel won't like us anyway. Remember, we thinned his raiding party? You also said, whatever else we do, we have to go through Kegel to get out of the sand. In the balance, eight hundred more rifles aimed at what Kegel throws at us does seem attractive."
While the discussion continued, I heard someone come up behind me and I turned to look. It was Marietta. Behind her was a tall man with red hair that was going to gray. His beard was streaked with dark gray.
Marietta squatted behind me and said, "Chief, we got a bit of trouble."
I shook my head. "Man, I don't know what's going to happen to us when we no longer have the desert and all of those killers out there to keep us together. If we ever do get the fear of war and the threat of thirst and starvation off our backs, we're going to wind up killing each other just to keep up the chaos level."
Her eyes looked at me steadily. "We still have some trouble, Chief."
Stays looked back at her. "What is it?"
"Back in the middle of the column. Mojo Tenbene says Herb Ollick tried to kill him."
"Ice Fingers?"
"Right. Herb says he didn't, and the salt-and-pepper thing is heatin' up fast."
"I guess we don't have to worry about the mob doing anything to us here. Were there any witnesses?" I asked.
"Haw!" she exploded. "Nobody's seen or heard nothin' since Eighteen and ninety-two."
I got to my feet and tapped Stays on his shoulder. "Hang in here and let me know what they decide." Stays nodded back and I faced Marietta. There was a different look to her face.
"What is it?"
"I could of handled it if it was just what I told you."
"Yeah?" I could almost see it coming.
"See, there's a guy down in the walkin' column who's confusin' everything. That's why I come to get you."
"Who is he?"
"His name's Pendril. Jason Pendril."
"I never heard of him.
Marietta's eyebrows went up. "Well, you know when I said Ice Fingers said he didn't do it?"
"Yeah."
"Well, Jason Pendril is Ice's lawyer, and he says that we have to give Herb Ollick a trial."
"A cash register? He wants a trial? Here in the sand?" A rotten taste crawled into my mouth as I watched Marietta's head nod.
How had a money threads managed to stay alive in the Crotch? He probably had kept a low profile, done favors for the yard monsters, the way I had. He probably had so many markers out for free legal work, the best thing that ever happened to him was Tartaros. If he had a connection with Herb Ollick, maybe he had a wire in to goomba central. That would've kept him alive.
All I needed was some slippery cockroach cash register with a mouthful of Latin, the scruples of Attila the Hun, and the angles of a snake to intimidate the hell out of me. Whenever I saw one of those smug, indulgent smiles followed by one of those pat little mouthfuls like, "let me handle it," "I know what I'm doing," and "trust me," I know some lawyer is going to get rich and Bando Nicos is headed for the crowbars with empty pockets and a new asshole.
"Damn. Not a lawyer." I looked at Marietta. "I can't get a break."
"If it don't get any worse'n that, Chief, we can handle it." She grinned with menace. "You can always thin the cockroach. Don't have no law against that." Marietta turned and headed north toward the column.
I thought about Marietta's remark, and it was true. I could always kill the lawyer. I wouldn't have to be crooked to do that. There wasn't a lawyer in the universe who had gone more than an hour without doing something that deserved killing, not that I have anything personal against cockroaches.
"Stays, give me your notebook."
"Why?"
"Don't lay that why stuff in my face, Hammurabi. Just give me the damned notebook."
Stays gave me that big grin. "Why?"
Why? Why did I want the notebook? I held out my hand. "Because it's all we got for rules right now, chup."
Martin Stays pulled out his notebook, handed it up to me, and nodded. "Just so you understand."
I grabbed the notebook and began running to catch up with Marietta. Stays called out from behind me. "Chief, there're some additions since you read it last."
As I followed the rookie, I suspected that I was already losing whatever it was that I had in the way of confidence. When two razors start going after each other, any fool whose blood isn't up can see how to work it out. Courts with black rags and money threads blowing smoke and angling mirrors were no man's land.
It wasn't that the juicers were all rigged, and the rags and cash registers all crooked. Every now and then I had come across a lawyer or judge who was really trying his best to do the job, serve justice, and all that crap. They were the poorest and most depressed people I ever met.
I remembered that sad-eyed jerk with the trembling smile saying to me one time, "The judge, he really likes you, Bando. He's giving you sixteen to twenty years."
The funny thing was that the judge really did like me and my attorney wasn't making a joke. After I thinned my sister's live-in dealer, everybody understood and wanted to help me. Sixteen to twenty years. All I could figure was that it wasn't assholes who made the system; it was the system that turned everybody into assholes.
I glanced at Stays's notebook, wondering if what we were doing was constructing another asshole factory. The tall man with the gray and red hair fell in beside me.
I looked at him. "Was there something you wanted?"
He pointed toward my newest rookie. "Marietta said you might be able to use me."
"What's your name?"
"Brady. John Brady."
"Why'd the rookie grab you, Brady? Did you get lonely for Hell, or did you just look too happy to suit her?"
He smiled. "She knows I've done some police work."
"Oh?" I paused and considered the man standing before me. He looked like a cop, or an airline pilot, maybe a priest or a vid player who does fathers on the sitcoms. It would be more luck than Bando Nicos had ever seen in a bunch of years to get someone in the Razai Cops who actually knew what he was doing.
"Where did you do stains, Brady?"
"I was on the force in Atlanta."
"Atlanta?" I skidded to a halt, which is no mean trick on sand. "Like, in Georgia, North America?"
"The same."
"Cap? You're Cap?"
"I was a police captain, yes."
I held out my hands. "You're the one who thinned Diaper Lou!"
The man's smile vanished. He nodded, looked down, and shook his head. "I really don't know what I'm doing here. I guess Marietta thought I might be able to answer some questions for you. Anything I can do, just let me know." He shook his head. "I'm sorry." He began walking away.
"Hold it!" I grabbed his arm. "Don't go. I'm sorry if I seem a little stunned. It's just that I've been in it over my head for days, and I was just thinking about you." I held out my hand. "Man, am I glad to see you!"
Cap Brady looked down at my hand, his face looking very somber. "Bando, the day I killed Lou Imagia I became everything I ever hated. I broke the law."
"Hey, Cap, none of us got here because of a great record." I gestured with my hand again, and Brady took it. He had a
n iron grip and a strong smile.
"Thanks, Bando. This means a lot to me."
I placed my free hand on his shoulder and said, "I hope you feel like that an hour from now." We ended the shake and continued following Marietta. "Cap, have you ever heard of an ex MJ cop named Marantha Silver?"
"Sure. You'd have to have lived under a rock not to have heard of her."
"She was in the Crotch, I know. But is she with the column? If she is, we could sure use her."
Cap nodded. "Yes, she's with us. Would you like me to ask her?"
"Yeah. Great."
Cap stopped and said, "I'll catch up with you. I have to go back to the point."
"Why?"
"Marantha's there. She's probably sleeping now. She's one of Nazzar's ten best and they were real busy last night." He waved a hand. "I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
I watched his back for a moment, suddenly feeling like maybe what I was doing was not entirely a lost cause. I thought for a second, then opened Stay's notebook and did a quick scan of the pages. The murder of Freddy had added a few provisions to the policies of the Razai.
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12. The Razai have the right to observe the judicial process (Freddy-Dick Irish murder). On the march, Day 5.
13. A threat is a crime, and it carries as a penalty the performance of the threat upon the threatener (Freddy-Dick Irish murder). Issued by Marietta Jackson, On the march, Day 5.
14. If the parties to a dispute agree to it, the dispute may be settled by the investigating cop (Freddy-Dick Irish murder). On the march, Day 5.
15. The penalty for all crimes is payback, and payback for taking a life is everything plus a little (Freddy-Dick Irish murder). On the march, Day 5.
16. As part of payback, the murder victim inherits all from the murderer (Freddy-Dick Irish murder). On the march, Day 5.
17. Without a will, the spouse inherits. Without a spouse on record, sleeping together constitutes spousehood (Freddy's estate to Ginger). On the march, Day 5.
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