Beluga Fay (Dragon Bone Hill) (11 page)

“It is, Captain—named them myself.” The officer smiled and laughed gently and a little low. The act of concealment was not new to Tomás, but he’d not hidden himself away from Titus. There was something broken and angry behind the smile that would require dealing with.

“A wonderful poetic soul you have.”

“More low comedy, but thank-you.”

Without being invited, the Wall guards and officer sat down at Pym’s table.

“So, you are going to be negotiating for Ms. Budiman’s group?”

“They don’t know how to go about this sort of thing, so I was asked to help out where I might.” There was no reason to be direct about this. Even if their holsters were snapped closed, there still were three of them.

“How might you help?”

“Let’s begin with what you would consider a fair trade for Ms. Budiman’s group?”

“Through the gate?”

Pym had not expected the officer to be so direct, especially with the enlisted men sitting just behind him and to either side. The purpose of this was very clear, but it also suggested a deep anxiety which Pym hoped he could use—if not now then soon.

“Yes.”

“What she is asking is very dangerous—very expensive.”

“Of course this is true on both counts—most especially dangerous to you.”

The man’s already narrow eyes tightened at the vague threat.

“How for me?”

“You are taking the risk of being found out by your senior officers.”

“Ahhh....”

“Unless you are here representing a senior officer?” The guards tightened at the observation, and Tomás became uncomfortable and almost angry.

“I will ask the questions.”

“No, I believe I will.” The coffee shop went quiet. “You are here representing the Commander of the gate—those frayed cuffs of yours tell me you have little power beyond your watch. In order for this to work, you will have to bring these people out at night and that means having the night watch in your pocket—you do not have the money for that. Your cuffs, again, tell me this.”

“You would dare...”

“More as well, you and your men have been feeding off the women in Ms. Budiman’s group, perhaps some of the prettier young men as well. That is going to stop if you hope to get another stone from us, another shipment of food, anything more from the fish markets. The country is not taking very good care of you—that’s plain enough to see. If you want to continue in your present, admittedly reduced circumstances, you will begin to behave properly.”

“You,” voice low and hard, “are not the only ones with which we deal.”

“This would be a reference to the Cartel and the gangs. It cannot be the Governor because he deals with the national government. Two things there: One, your arrangement with the black economy in the city could be exposed to the Governor, and if not them, then to the national government, or to the blockade in the harbor. That, I believe, would go badly for you. Two, the Beluga have already taken a sizable bite out of the black economy, and we’re taking more every day. We now have considerable influence in the southern fish markets and the farmer’s markets in the West and we have some sway in the East—the last has grown considerably. The Cartel is becoming quite upset with us, but we are in the process of beginning to push them out—it will take time of course.”

Titus had only managed to finish before one of the guards was bumbling up from his chair. Before he could get halfway out of his chair, Pym had drawn his automatic. Leaning forward, he pressed it to the Captain’s forehead. “Sit down.” The guard looked to his officer, who nodded. Though his breathing had increased, there appeared no other indication of fear in the man’s face.

“Now, I’m going to let you return to your commanding officer and put my offer to him. We will entertain any offer involving food and precious stones—within reason—but there will be no more abuse of Ms. Budiman or her group. Am I clear?”

The man nodded.

“I need an answer.”

“Yes,” his voice unable to disguise the fear and growing anger.

“Now, step back into your truck and go back through the gate. Think about coming after me and it will go badly for you. We clear?”

“Yes.”

Stepping back, Titus motioned the men up. Doing so, he stepped back again, taking Glenna by the arm to keep her behind him.

“If you are considering something else when you return to your truck, I should tell you I have left information with my lieutenants about what is going on here. I know it’s a cliché, but if they do not see me at the arranged time, information will be released to the Governor and the blockade command at the same time as to what you are getting up to on the Wall. Can’t see that going well for you.” For a moment, Pym waited to see if the officer believed him. Apparently he did. Testing the hypothesis, Titus holstered the weapon. The three men backed from the shop and ran across the road. Glenna burst out laughing.

“I never thought it would be that easy.”

“They’re gofers—dealing with whomever is behind them will not be so easy. However, this will keep you off your knees for the time being.”

The woman didn’t appear to care for the image, but said nothing. Pym, however, sat back down.

“Shouldn’t we be running?”

“If we run, they’ll know I was lying; and the next time we meet, they’d kill me. Might not even wait for the next time.” Not appearing certain, Glenna sat back down and took a sip from her coffee.

“You’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“No, but I’ve handled negotiations with mid-level management before. This isn’t all that different.”

“What did you do before you ended up here?”

“Nothing that would interest you.”

Budiman put a hand on his wrist and smiled.

“Nothing I’m prepared to share with you.”

Though she removed the hand, she did not drop the smile. Titus, nonetheless, was certain she’d be trying to find out all she could about him.

“I need a ride home.”

“Yes, I didn’t see a car—how’d you get up here?”

“My brother dropped me off—it was too dangerous to come alone.”

“But you stayed alone.”

“Nothing happens up by the Wall the guards don’t control. As long as they weren’t pissed with me, I was safe. That may no longer be the case—so we need to get going when you have finished your coffee.”

“Before we go, I need to understand a few things I’ve not been able to learn from the Fay.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s the condition of the government here?”

“The Governor you mean?”

He nodded.

“Their grip on the city is failing. The Cartel and gangs are eroding his power, and the Wall guards have been getting increasingly greedy.”

“The Governor I understand, but the Wall is military. Why isn’t the government taking care of them?”

“I can only guess. What I’ve heard from my father is that the blockade has undermined the economy to such an extent that essentials are now in short supply—even food. That is why we’ve been supplying it for the last quarter.”

“I was only half joking about the food—it’s really that serious?”

Budiman nodded. “Probably worse than that from what I’ve been hearing—the country is now in the grip of a famine. We may be dying in here, but we’ve been mostly able to feed ourselves with fishing and the crops we’ve been able to grow. Outside the wall there are too many people, but they’ve got one thing we don’t in here.”

“No Sweats?”

She nodded, and took a sip from her mug. “If,” wiping her lip, “we stay, then we will eventually die.”

“But the epidemic has to burn itself out some time.”

“It’s been here for a year. And though it has its lulls, it has not shown any intention of giving up.”

It had been partly what Pym expected, but their situation was brought home by how direct Budiman had been. If he’d any hopes of riding the Sweats out with the Fay, then this ended that idea. Sometimes he thought the warehouse wasn’t such a bad place and that whatever else he had here, he did have some small position and friends who would help him make it to the other side. Once there, he could build on what he had created here and carve out a good life for himself, something he needed badly in order to put what happened before he’d gotten on the boat behind him. This news of Glenna’s, however, made that nearly impossible to believe. He’d be starting all over again on the other side of the Wall. He would have to deal with the famine, but he would be alive and had a better chance of staying that way if he were there rather than here.

As they pulled up to the north end of Makati, Glenna didn’t move to climb out. They were still a couple of streets above the gated district, in some ways a minor version of the Wall. After an uncomfortable moment, she turned to the man. “Titus?” Unfortunately she got no further and turned back to stare emptily out the window and about the shabby houses.

“What is it?”

“Do you want me?”

“I’m not sure...”

“I don’t mean sex. Do you want me?”

“Glenna, I don’t trust what it is you want. Until...”

“I want to be safe—let’s move in together, somewhere away from this place,” waving in the general direction of Makati.

“We could do that, but you’ll have to start trusting me.” Smiling, the woman wrapped her arms about the man and kissed him. It didn’t make him feel any better.

 “Timog is still a nice place to live—no matter what they say in Makati.”

The rains, yet again, had just passed and the humidity had fallen, but Pym did not think by much. Nor did Glenna—she was wearing a thong and nothing else. Lying on the bed, he looked at the toned back of the woman and the slope of her ass. She worked hard at both—watched what she ate; exercised; did yoga; ran; didn’t smoke; didn’t drink; didn’t club. There was a lot she did to take care she stayed looking the best she could. It was plain to Titus she was maintaining her most effective weapon. At the same moment, as she turned to smile and the smooth deep brown of her skin opened into a brilliant white, he understood how unfair that assessment was.

“Why don’t they like it?”

“Most have moved up from here. My own family, for instance. Being where they came from, they are frightened about backsliding.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“You didn’t invent social climbing.”

“But it is more important here.”

“No, it only looks more important. Still important where I come from—only thing is, people work harder at hiding their fear.”

“How do you know?”

Again with the questions about his family. They’d survived the rainy season together, but the woman had never let up on the questions about his past. He didn’t respond and she turned, hands on her hips.

“You still don’t trust me? I’ve left my family to be with you!” Titus chuckled and rolled off the bed, grabbing a bottle of water.

“We’re together a couple days a week—and you never spend the night. I wouldn’t call that leaving your family.”

“Near enough.”

“Not horseshoes.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“I do—more each day. I might ask the same. You’ve kept me at arm’s length from your group, and I cannot help wondering why?”

“My brother, I told you, doesn’t like you. The others are a little afraid. They’ve heard some of the stories about the Fay. Are any of them true?”

“Most are exaggerations. But why doesn’t your brother like me?”

“ You’re foreign; no one knows your social status; you run a criminal organization.”

“Hardly an organization—a few people trying to get enough to eat and stay safe.”

“A few people? By your own reckoning, there have to be nearly a thousand of you. There’s more than food they’re after. You’re taking weapons from all the other gangs; you’ve hit the Wall guards; you’re still attacking the militia—that has to stop.”

“We did not attack them. We’re supposed to be working together and they hit us.”

“Father explained to me that was an accident.”

“I don’t trust what people say—more interested in what they do. Your father isn’t the sort I’d spend much time and energy trusting.”

“That go for me too?”

“Less every day.” Taking her around the waist then lifting her in his arms, Glenna squealed but did not resist.