Angry Lead Skies



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81

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Singe,” I
said, puffing as I headed south, the knees beginning to ache.
“I’m willing to bet I know exactly where that thing was
headed.”

No dummy she, Singe opined, “Mr. Dotes’
establishment.”

“Yeah.”

Yeah.

The skyship was long gone by the time we reached The Palms but
people were still hanging around in the street, telling each other
about it. There’d been enough excitement for the visitation
to become a neighborhood forty-day wonder. I noted a couple of
familiar faces among the gossipers, guys asking only occasional
questions and doing a lot of listening.

Some snooty galoot got his heart broken when I didn’t even
slow down going past him at the door—with a rat in tow, for
the gods’ sake! For a moment I thought I’d finally get
me a chance to witness a genuine sputtering fit of apoplexy.

Snooty galoot disappointed me.

People so often do.

“I smells, wit’ my little smeller,
somet’in’ what a man ought not ta got ta smell,”
Puddle announced from the shadows at the other end of the room.

Sarge hollered from the kitchen, “Dat mean dat
Garrett’s here?”

“Dat it does indeed.”

“Ha! So pay up! I told ya da man don’t got a ounce a
shame an’ he’d turn up before da dust
settled.”

“Sounds like we guessed right,” I told Singe.
“They did come here.”

“Hey, Greenwall,” Puddle yelled. “Ya need more
help talkin’ people outa comin’ in da door?”

The snooty character gobbled some air. It was obvious that
Morley had hired him for his upthrust honker, not for his ability
to intimidate hard men.

I said, “Don’t be too rough on the guy,
Puddle.” I intended to explain how he naturally went
spineless when he saw Singe and me bearing down, but Puddle
interrupted.

“Yer right, Garrett. It’s his secont day on da job.
Ain’t every day ya look out da door an’ dere’s
one a dem flyin’ disk kinda t’in’s landin’
in da street out front, wit’ goofy-lookin’ silvery elf
guys jumpin’ down an’ whippin’ up on
everybody.”

I took a second glance at Greenwall. He did look like a man
nursing a ferocious headache. So did Puddle, for that matter.
“So the girls all got away.”

Puddle stared at me with narrowed eye for several seconds.
“Yeah. Dey went. But one a dem had ta be dragged
kickin’ and da udder two cried all da way ’cause dey
didn’t want ta go.”

“Wow! Your boss is quite the man. He’ll be
heartbroken, I’m sure.”

“Morley’s gonna be singin’ hosannas, soon as
he gets enough strengt’ back.” Puddle’s grin slid
away. His face turned serious. “I hate ta be da one what
gives ya da bad news, Garrett, but dem sluts, dey stole Mr. Big
when dey went.”

“Oh, that is awful.” What an actor. I know what
racket I ought to be in, now. Not involved in inventing and
manufacture. I ought to be on the stage. I managed to be convincing
in my loss. “O Cruel Asp of Fortune, thou wicked serpent, how
painful thy sting . . . ”

“Gods, Garrett, you aren’t just a ham, you’re
the whole stinking pig.” Morley had managed to get most of
the way downstairs. He looked like a guy fighting a big headache,
too.

Once again I brought my acting skills to bear and concealed my
amusement. “You look like death warmed over. You been playing
with the vampires?”

“Of a sort. Right now I don’t think I ever want to
see another woman.”

“Oh, I suspect you’ll change your mind. After you
recover from the fantasy come true.” Given a few days
I’d found myself thinking of Katie and Tinnie in a
nonplatonic fashion again. But I am a very resilient fellow.

“They stole Mr. Big, Garrett.”

“You sound like that bothers you.”

Morley’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Like why
wouldn’t that bother the gods themselves?

“It’s no secret that I wasn’t fond of the ugly
moth. But if you miss obnoxiousness fluttering around you
I’ll send over some of the swarm of pixies that’re
living in my walls, now.”

“No need. Mr. Big will be back,” Morley predicted.
He sounded so confident I wondered if I ought to be worried.

“You sound sure. And glum at the same time.”

“Evas and her friends are going to come back with
him.”

“Heh-heh-heh.” I pulled my most evil laugh out of my
bag of attitudes for special occasions. “You sure they
won’t just wring his neck when they get tired of
him?”

“You’ll be laughing out the other side of your mouth
when they get here, Garrett.”

“I’ll move. I’ll go into hiding.”

“You’re marked, buddy. You’re special. You
started something and now you’re marked for their special
attention.”

“I started nothing. It was all Evas’
idea.”

“You gave her the idea for her new idea, Mr. Entrepreneur.
She’s going to get hold of a bigger skyship and start
bringing silver elf women to TunFaire for very special vacation
getaways. And she sees you as a whole lot better partner in her
enterprise than she sees me. She told me so.” A bit of
wickedness lurked in the corners of his eyes. He just might have
had something to do with the lady Visitor’s attitude.

Telling stories on me again, probably. I have to break him of
that habit.

“Their government will never let them do that.”
Stopping adventurers was Casey’s business. His whole purpose
in life was to prevent contacts between his people and ours.

“You really think? It’s beyond
corruption?”

“Glad to see you’re all right,” I said.
“Get plenty of rest. And get some meat in your diet.
You’ll need to beef up if you want to make it in the gigolo
racket.” I began to sidle toward the door.

“I plan to maintain my amateur status. But you being a
businessman now, you might want to exploit the
opportunity.”

Maybe I could recruit Kip and Rhafi and a dozen of their
friends. What they lacked in experience they could make up in
enthusiasm.

I sidled some more, noting that Singe was enjoying my
discomfiture entirely too much.

“What’s your rush, Garrett?” my old pal
asked.

“I’ve got to see a Dead Man about a
horse.”

Morley took his turn chuckling. Chances were he had a fair
notion what was going on in my head. But he said only, “You
be careful on the street. There are some ratfolk out there who
resent what the Guard did to Reliance. And they think you and Singe
might have had something to do with that. Your friend John Stretch
is having trouble setting himself up as Reliance’s
replacement.”

“My friend John Stretch is going to get some grief from
me, too.” I’d concluded that John Stretch had given me
completely bum information about where to find the Maskers. That
Singe and I had stumbled into the right place at the wrong time
almost entirely by chance. That we never would have found the
Visitors if Bic and his sorcerer friend hadn’t been dogging
us.

Dotes got in a final gouge as we stepped into the street.
“See you at Chodo’s birthday bash. I think you could
sell your gigolo franchise to the Outfit.”

Chodo’s birthday party. That bucket of ice water put
everything else into a more favorable perspective. The return of
the insatiable Visitor girls sounded positively attractive by
comparison.



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