Angry Lead Skies

72

Do you feel like a captain of industry? the Dead Man asked.

I waved a hand in a dismissive gesture he couldn't possibly see. "What I feel like is a guy dancing six inches above the ground because I have completely, thoroughly, irrevocably nailed Morley's mangy hide to the wall. I have hoisted him on his own petard. I've spent months and months and months trying to map out some absurdly complicated revenge scam to get even with him for the Goddamn Parrot. And in the end a better answer just dropped her bottom into my lap. I just had to introduce Morley to Evas, let Morley be Morley, let Evas be Evas, and let Deal Relway be his own suspicious self."

The Dead Man wasn't pleased. Once I'd decided to point Evas at my pal Morley, I'd launched a companion scheme which resulted in her wanting to keep the feathered clown with her.

Evas couldn't leave The Palms, now. There were too many watchers outside who reported to the Emergency Committee for Royal Security. It may be a long time before they tire of observing comings and goings at Morley's place.

Oh, me! Oh, my! I love it!

I wonder how long it'll take Morley to realize that he's reaped the whirlwind?

No more Mr. Big, trying to get me stoned on the streets, following me everywhere, keeping track, nagging me. No more... "Gah!"

A ferocious squabble had broken out inside the front wall.

Soundless, almost gloating laughter seemed to fill the atmosphere.

Well, hell! He might not miss a step.

Still, I could cherish thoughts of Morley's delicious plight.

Although Fasfir didn't approve.

She had managed to establish communications with the Dead Man. She found it painful to be completely alone. When Old Bones didn't make her feel better she joined me in my office. By means of notes, a few words spoken with difficulty, and my small ability to sense moods, she made it known how cruelly terrifying being alone and lonely was for her kind.

I told her, "Casey's here."

But Fasfir found Casey nearly as alien as she did me, and he was a lot less fun after dark. I could scramble her brains and push the fear away for a while.

"Huh? You worked hard enough but I never felt like you got much out of it."

She informed me that she was much more diverted when I was with Evas and she was in Evas' mind. Evas' flesh responded more readily, thoroughly, and willingly than did her own. Though her problem probably existed entirely within her own mind.

Odd. Though she believed she had mental hang-ups she admitted to being every bit as enthusiastic as Evas. Only she enjoyed it best at second hand.

Life gets stranger by the hour.

This is TunFaire. That would be the taproot iron law. Things get weirder.

Ask the Dead Man what it was like in the old days, when he was young and callow. He'll let you know that everything was normal and straightforward, way back then.

The written record, however, doesn't support him. There may be cycles of less and more but weird is with us always.

Company is coming. Another Visitor. He had concluded that our silver elves were identical to the strange people who had been called Visitors when he was a child. He'd found fragments in Casey's head to confirm his speculation. So from now on we were going to call them Visitors.

Fasfir whipped past me as I eased into the hallway. She hurried to the front door, then stood there baffled by all the mechanisms. I nudged her aside, looked through the peephole.

A very small, scruffy, nervous brunette was on the stoop. Homely enough to be related to Dean, she was poised to knock but wasn't sure she was ready to commit. She looked around to see who might be watching.

She flickered.

I lifted Fasfir up so she could look. "Is that your other friend?"

Fasfir nodded.

I opened the door, which startled the Visitor because she hadn't yet announced herself.

Fasfir revealed herself, slithering around me as lithely as a cat, before the ill-favored little woman could run away.

I shut the door and left the ladies to their reunion.

I went to the Dead Man's room. "You been eavesdropping?"

I got the equivalent of a mental grunt in response. I noted that Casey, who seldom strayed from the Dead Man's room, was lapsing into sleep. Again. By the time he left my place Casey was going to be years ahead on his sleep.

"Finding anything interesting? Like why this one is running around loose when she ought to be a captive of the Masker contingent?"

Given fewer distractions I might exploit the present moment of emotional vulnerability to unearth those and further significant answers.

I pinched my lips closed.

We can call this woman Woderact. She seems to be what we would call a sorceress. She would be the most socially reserved of the female crew. She is not an adventuress. Yet there is about her that same intense suppressed hunger that characterized Evas. Some not so suppressed amusement. The Maskers kicked her out because she was of no use to them. She would not cooperate. Also, the Maskers may have thought she could lead them to Fasfir and Evas, either of whom might know something that would help them repair their ship.

These Maskers seem to be more hardened than are the other Visitors.

"Except for Casey."

Except for Casey. I do believe that it is just marginally possible that Casey could do direct, willful physical harm to another being. None of the other Visitors seem able to entertain the thought.

Ah! The excitement of the reunion has begun to ebb. Fasfir's thoughts are no longer accessible. And there goes the new mind. Ha!

A vast miasma of amusement wrapped itself around me. My metaphysical side seems to be asserting itself. I have suffered a psychic episode. You are going to have to teach night school at least one more time.

"I can lock my door."

But you will not.

No. Being an empathetic kind of guy, I probably wouldn't. Not for a night or two.

Please move the women out of the hallway, now. We are about to suffer another caller. It would be best that the Visitors are not seen.