Torch Song: A Kickass Heroine, A Post-Apocalyptic World: Book One Of The Blackjack Trilogy

by Shelley Singer

  No weapons, no brain, and body unstable. But I couldn’t stay here, totally helpless. Everything in me, or what was left of me, rebelled at that helplessness. I staggered back into my room, and went right for my sys.

  The chief had betrayed me, but there wasn’t anyone else I could call for help. I made it, slowly, to the closet, dug my sys out of the pants, and, closing myself in, putting two doors between me and my guards, called the chief. No answer.

  “Get me the hell out of here, Graybel. I don’t care how, as long as I’m alive. Wounded in battle with Scorsi forces today, drugged, weaponless. Confined to my room. Come and get me.”

  Even as I spoke the words, I doubted there was any point in saying them. She was afraid to cross the Colemans directly, maybe always had been. I suspected that she was listening to my message and deciding, right now, that it wouldn’t be smart to help me. As for Newt, even if he still thought I was working for him he wouldn’t do anything, either, no point in asking. I was no good to him if I left.

  I dropped my sys into my pants pocket and forced my mind to focus on getting away. The window seemed to be out of the question. There was nothing like a fire escape and I’d never been able to get it open more than eight inches. I tried it again, though, heaving at it, stumbled over my own feet, and fell to the floor, bumping my arm. Even with the pills, that was agony. I thought about breaking the window. Would the guards hear that? Did I have enough sheets and blankets and towels to make a three-story rope? And if I did, could I shimmy down the stupid thing with one good arm? Maybe. The question then became could I shimmy down the stupid thing without falling on my befuddled head? I figured my odds were fifty-fifty. That Jo would or would not decide to kill me, and that I would or would not fall on my head. Even if I got as far as my car, I’d have to avoid crashing into the nearest tree.

  I didn’t get a chance to try any of it. The door opened again and the Coleman sisters walked in, shutting it firmly behind them. I’d already been searched, so after a second’s panic, I relaxed. They wouldn’t do it again so they wouldn’t find the sys in my pocket. Unless of course it buzzed. The panic came back.

  “How are you feeling, Rica?” Judith asked. She was carrying a newspaper.

  “Fine.” I was still sitting on the floor near the window.

  She laughed. “You look like hell.”

  “Thanks.” What was this, some kind of softening-up torture?

  “Here—” she reached down, took my good arm, and helped me to the bed, laying the paper beside me. “—something to entertain you. You can read all about how the Rockies are planning to invade.”

  I glanced at the big black headline: Rocky Planning Conquest of Sierra and Redwood!

  “Jo and I have been discussing your future.” And whether I had one, I thought. “What were you getting paid for this invasion of our privacy?” What a quaint way to put it. I told her, adding a few hundred reals for good measure. She glanced at Jo and sat down in the bedside chair.

  “Sounds a little high, Rica,” Jo said, one eyebrow raised. Don’t try to be sexy right now, Jo, I was thinking. It won’t work. I shrugged, and felt it in my arm. I managed not to groan.

  Jo was watching me. I didn’t say anything. Judith didn’t say anything. Finally, Jo spoke again. “We’ll pay you that much and promise not to kill you for spying on us. All you have to do is work for us. Against Newt. Against Rocky. And you’ll have to prove yourself, prove we can trust you. After all, you could take this offer to Newt and get even more from him.”

  “I doubt that,” I said. “But you need to tell me: what are you after that I can help you get?” The bed was soft. The adrenaline my body had mustered to take me to the hallway, the closet, and the window had seeped away. I tried to raise my right foot. Nothing more than a twitch.

  She laughed. “I’m not ready to lay out a master plan for you, Rica. You’ll do whatever bits and pieces we need done. By the time you’ve proven yourself, and we trust you, you’ll have figured out whatever you have to know.” Judith nodded her approval of Jo’s obfuscation.

  “Prove myself how?”

  “First of all, the easy part: who does Newt have inside Blackjack? You must know. Tell us. Second, tell us where his army trains. Or rather—” she tossed a sneer toward Judith “—his little band of grubby mercenaries. If you don’t know, find out. We need to know their strengths and weaknesses and when they can be attacked quietly, on their own ground, just like Hannah did to us. Beyond those two things, we’re still working out how to use your services. We’ll be watching everything you do and we’ll see what you’re not doing. So you can be sure that we’ll figure it out soon enough if you’re poisonous.”

  Damn Newt and his secrecy. I didn’t have a lot to give them, even if I were sure I wanted to. I hesitated for only a second. I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death, not even Bernard’s, but I had to give Jo someone, and he was the only one I was sure about. Maybe she wouldn’t kill him.

  “The only one I know is Bernard, the change guy. Pale? Scared-looking?” Jo looked grim. “Newt used him as a messenger once, when I first arrived. I don’t think he’s much of a danger.”

  “Bernard, huh?” She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s dangerous either. Not anymore. He quit right after Hannah left.” Wonderful. The one name I had was useless. “That’s it? You don’t know about anyone else?” She didn’t look like she believed me.

  “Newt wouldn’t tell me anything. Either he never trusts anyone or he doesn’t trust me. I’ve told you that before.” I was trying for strong, but wondered if I sounded whiny. “And I haven’t seen any signs from anyone else.” My head was pounding and my vision fogging again. I was falling miles lying down, spinning in my own head like a drunk.

  “We need more. You need more. To protect yourself as well as the rest of us. You’re absolutely sure you don’t know anyone besides Bernard?”

  “Absolutely sure.” This was like one of those old psychological tests where they asked you the same question more than once to try to trip you up. “I only know two names. There was Hannah, and there was Bernard. I asked Newt and he wouldn’t tell me, but I know there have to be others.”

  “Of course there are. And if that’s all you can give us…” Jo squinted doubtfully at me.

  “I’m sure you can find the rest of them if you really try, Rica,” Judith said. Her voice sounded ominous and gentle all at once.

  Get the rest of the names and find out everything there was to know about Newt’s army while I was pretending to be Newt’s spy and getting inside the Coleman army and working at their casino. I could do that.

  Apparently I’d said some of that out loud, because Judith responded, smiling that irritating wise smile.

  “You’ll be very busy, Rica, but you’ll also be collecting two stacks of reals.” She stood. “For now, I think you need a nap. We’ll talk again later. Or Jo will talk with you.”

  “Nap? How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?” I clamped my mouth shut; stomach acid was threatening to erupt. Lovely pills, Doc. Thanks.

  Jo answered that. “Three reasons. At this point, you don’t know anything the Scorsis don’t already know about us. Or the chief. All you can do is run. You’ll either do that or you won’t. And we’ve decided that you could be an asset. You haven’t exactly gone undetected here— sloppy on the back-story, Rica— but you’re smart and Samm says you’re a helluva fighter, saved some of our troops, did some damage.”

  “That’s two reasons.”

  Jo rolled her eyes. “Drugged to the hair follicles and you’re still pushing.”

  Judith smiled. “The third reason you’ll know that we won’t kill you, Rica, is this: the guards are gone. You’re free to do whatever you want to do. Run back to Newt. Or run back to Redwood.” I hated that image, me running, scampering like a scared bug. “Or you can stay here and recuperate and start work in a day or two spying on Newt. For us. Your choice.” And spying on the Colemans from within, for myself
.

  I tried to get up, and managed to roll over. Again, Judith took my arm.

  “The door,” I said. She pulled me up. I nearly toppled. Jo put an arm around my waist and between them they got me there. I opened it and looked out. No one was there. The guards were gone.

  They helped me back to bed. I fell on it with relief. “You should know,” I said, “that both my guards know why they were guarding me. I heard Quinn tell Emmy I was a spy, that Zack told him.”

  Jo nodded. “We’ll cover it. We’ll take care of it. No one here is going to talk or act like we don’t trust you, like you’re not one of us.”

  That was reassuring. Under this arrangement, I might not have the Colemans actively using me for target practice, but I could easily have Hannah and Newt trying to kill me.

  The guards weren’t out there. I could leave. But I couldn’t keep my eyes open, couldn’t even sit upright without help.

  “Let me sleep on it.” I think I said that, anyway.

  I sank into the pillows. The two women turned and walked toward the door. I never saw them close it.

  When I woke and looked at the clock, three hours had passed. The chief hadn’t gotten back to me. I tried her again. No answer. I left another message. This one said, “No longer working for you. No longer want your help getting away.” And then, for insurance: “Say nothing to Newt or the Colemans won’t like you anymore.” I could feel my lip curl as I spoke.

  The newspaper was lying beside me. I lifted it, glanced through the story about the Rockies. The headline pretty much told it. The main story was about a confession from two of the “recruiters” that the spying was a prelude to war and conquest of all the land to the Coast. My land. There was nothing about when that war would start. The scariest part of it: they bragged about a coalition of khakis, godders, and breeders.

  Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I tested my stability. Hardly dizzy at all. I stood. Not bad. I sent a message to Gran.

  “The Rockies who came here were arrested and confessed to being spies, in advance of war. They say Rocky is uniting their factions and planning an invasion, here and in Redwood. Tahoe, Sierra, they don’t have enough fighters to defend against a real invader. Not yet. Talk to everyone you know who still has any power. Macris. Petra. Let them know they need to get their butts in gear, get people organized, make some plans, prepare to defend. I’ll send more as I find it out.”

  I crossed the room to the door and opened it. There was a guard out there again, one of the change people. They’d lied to me.

  “Hi,” she said brightly, tossing her brown and black hair. “I see you’re awake.”

  “Very clever,” I grumped. “Why are you here?”

  She laughed. “I was supposed to hang around and see if you needed anything. Judith wants you in her office as soon as you can walk okay. You going to need help getting there?”

  “Absolutely not.” Would she insist? Was she a guard in puppy disguise?

  “Okay. You take care, then.” She trotted off down the hall. I stared after her. For a flash, I thought again of leaving. This was my chance to run. I could go back to Redwood and help organize— oh, hell. No. I really couldn’t. Rocky might be a danger, but so were the Colemans. Did I want Redwood overrun by Rockies or Sierrans? Was it going to come down to a choice?

  I was beginning to think the Colemans really meant it— they wanted me working for them. And I wanted to work for the Colemans for more than one reason. I loved the torch singing gig, I had to admit. Jo and Samm and Judith— three kinds of attraction. Not only that, but if it was true that someone had to keep my world safe from Jo, I was the only one in a position to do it. To paraphrase that Victorian admonition to women: I closed my eyes and thought of Redwood.

  I’d made my decision, I just needed to accept it.

  Picking my way carefully down the hall to the elevator— I was glad, now, that Hannah had been so good at her fixer job— good hand brushing the wall, I wondered what Judith had in mind.

  The sling was yanking at my neck. I’d have to get that thing off as soon as possible.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Amelia was not a total idiot

  Judith looked up at me and smiled. It seemed sincere. But of course she couldn’t trust me yet, any more than I trusted her.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Yes, thanks.” I sat in the guest chair, even though she hadn’t invited me to. She didn’t blink. She may have been powerful, but she was secure enough about it not to demand obeisance.

  The drugs had worn off; the arm had a long way to go. Sitting felt a lot better than standing. I hadn’t been able to get my wounded arm into the shirtsleeve, which dangled from the still half-fastened shirt.

  “Think you’re up to running through a quick training with your restaurant replacement?” I wondered why Waldo couldn’t take care of that, under the circumstances, but maybe it was because he wasn’t so good with people. Once again I’d either spoken aloud or Judith had read my thoughts. She answered my question. “Waldo hired her and I want to be sure she’s up to the job.”

  “Sure.” My arm hurt. Badly. That hole below my elbow felt like the bubbling chem-pit I’d seen once in Middle. Doc had left me a packet of what he’d said were milder painkillers, but I’d stuck them in a drawer.

  “Of course we won’t expect you to go back to the restaurant until the arm is healed. Maybe you won’t have to go back there at all, if things work out. Two shows a night and the work you do for us.”

  Sounded like heaven. I just nodded; I know I must have looked pleased, because I was. I’d still be very cautious about believing everything I heard, but it really did look like they were giving me a fair try.

  “Speaking of that work I’m supposed to do for you, I don’t see how I can do it without a weapon. You’ve taken mine.” No need to mention the ones in my car.

  She laughed. “Did you think we wouldn’t check your car, Rica? Quite an arsenal you had in there. We took the guns, left the cash and other things. Here. You can have this one back.” She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out the laser pistol Emmy had taken from me earlier.

  “You’re appropriating the others?”

  “For now.”

  I wasn’t happy about it and wasn’t so sure I’d ever get them back. From what I’d seen, the Colemans could use all the good weapons they could find or steal.

  “What about my car? Did you wreck it?”

  Judith looked shocked. “Of course not! And we’ve already had the lock repaired.” She changed the subject. “Do you think you could do an hour tonight in the lounge?”

  “Yes. I think I could.” I wanted to. Didn’t want to lose my fan base. I thought I could sit and sing, with a minimum of arm movement. I had a shirt with big flowing sleeves. I’d get myself dressed somehow.

  “Wonderful. Head on down to the restaurant now.” She tapped a button on her desk sys. “Waldo, she’s on her way.”

  She looked at me expectantly. I stood. I must have winced. Her gaze sharpened. “You sure you can do the show?”

  “I’ll get plenty of rest before then.” I left her office and picked my way down the stairs from the mezzanine. Going up those stairs had hurt, going down made my head fuzzy. Still some drugs dancing in my brain. I never did understand how anyone could like that feeling.

  Timmy came running to meet me in the restaurant. “Oh, Rica, my dear girl. I’m so sorry! How is your poor arm? I’m so sorry!” He was, indeed, very sorry. “Would you like some help with that shirt? I could cut the sleeve and—” I shook my head. One shredded shirt was enough. But at least Timmy still cared about me, even though he probably knew by now that I was a Scorsi spy, exposed and turned. Drew and Lizzie talked to him freely, and I suspected everyone else did, too. He had to be one of the people Jo trusted to keep quiet about the whole thing now. He leaned closer and whispered, “And I’m glad that you’re… um, you know. Ours. Now.”

  “Thanks, Tim. I’m supposed to see Waldo?�
��

  He scowled. “Oh yes, your replacement. They’re in the kitchen. Be careful about going in there. No telling what awful sight you’ll see.” Did that mean what I thought it did?

  I knocked on the swinging kitchen door, heard a grunt and a grudging “Okay, come on in.” I did that and there was Waldo, sitting on a worktable beside— very close beside— the woman from the medicine show. Not one of the two young ones, but the large fortyish one who’d done the can-can with the other two. She wasn’t wearing the flowered dress and big floppy straw hat now, though. She was wearing the restaurant black and white, and no hat. Waldo spoke to me but his eyes stayed on her.

  “Rica, this is Amelia. She’s going to take your place serving.” Amazing. But then, who wouldn’t give up a life on the road for the divine Waldo?

  Amelia giggled and blushed and cuddled close against Waldo’s side. His nostrils flared. “Pleased to meet you, Rica,” she said.

  I silently thanked Timmy for warning me about walking right into the kitchen. It was bad enough seeing Waldo sitting there with a woman. I couldn’t imagine what else they’d been doing. Well, I could, but I didn’t want to.

  Despite her very strange taste in men, Amelia was not a total idiot. I shadowed her for about half an hour, dropping into a chair now and then when standing was more than my arm or fuzzy brain could bear, and she did just fine as a server. She was reasonably fast, only messed up one order, and flirted with everyone enough to get good tips.

  “You’re doing great, Amelia,” I told her. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” After Waldo finished seating a party of three, I went to him with the same news.

  “Of course she’s doing fine,” he barked at me. “And no pesky split shifts to deal with, either. I don’t need you any more, Rica. ”

  Waldo was telling me to get lost. His face blurred as my mind focused on this perfect reality. They really were cutting me loose from the restaurant. I never had to work for Waldo again. A rush of warm pleasure, almost sexual, swept over me. I moved in close, nose to nose. He blanched and backed away, his ugly butt bumping into the host station. I stepped forward, following him, only inches away again. “Then everybody’s happy, aren’t we, Waldo?”