Cruel Zinc Melodies

54

Saucerhead and Rockpile worked well together. The guardhouse went up quickly. Saucerhead’s henchmen glowed with anticipation. I reminded Tharpe that the job was more than just hanging out in a warm place.

His guys were on the job, though. Men called Sparrow and Figgie Joe Crabb brought in a prowler they said was up to no good around back of the World. He wasn’t big. He wasn’t well dressed. He stank. Not as much as Lurking Felhske, but enough to stand out in a city where most people are allergic to soap. He could’ve stood to eat a meal, too. His limbs were like spider legs. He needed to stand straighter, too. His hair was a tangled mess of greasy strings. He wouldn’t look anyone in the eye. He knew who I was. He was hoping I wouldn’t remember him.

Life had been one disappointment after another. His luck wouldn’t change today.

‘‘Snoots Gitto. It’s been a while. Little out of your normal range, aren’t you? What’s your story?’’

Snoots mumbled something about he was looking for a job. That changed under the press of a battery of sneers. My companions didn’t know Snoots but they knew the breed.

Snoots then whined about trying to find something he could sell so he could buy something to eat. Snoots has a talent. He can mumble and whine at the same time.

He might be telling the truth. If information was what he wanted to find.

I told Saucerhead, ‘‘Let’s don’t start pounding him yet. Snoots is more than he seems.’’

‘‘Seems like a bum to me.’’

‘‘Exactly. But he’s really a spy for Marengo North English and that crowd.’’

Tharpe, Sparrow, Crabb, and a couple others considered Snoots. And didn’t believe me.

‘‘Behold the master race,’’ I told them. Then, ‘‘Snoots, you’ve stumbled into the gooey poo. Only one way out. You tell the truth.’’

Snoots stared at the pavements and made whiny noises. They didn’t add up to words.

‘‘What’re you doing here? I’m listening. If you deal off the top of the deck, I won’t give you to Rockpile, there. You do mess with me, I’ll have these guys break stuff and pull bits off till you do convince me. Then I’ll turn you over to Rockpile anyway. He can drag you over to the Al-Khar. Where, I’m pretty sure, your name is still on the list of people Director Relway wants to meet bad enough to pay a finder’s fee for an introduction.’’

Snoots became cooperation itself. If Cooperation were a goddess, Snoots would be a kitten purring in her lap and butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He said, ‘‘There was a rumor that some nonhuman labor might be about to be used around here.’’ He cast a worried glance at Rockpile.

‘‘A rumor? Who did you hear it from?’’

Snoots Gitto wasn’t a complete craven. But he was a realist and a pragmatist. He knew he would give up everything. Given time. Time was of no value to him. So he wasn’t principled enough to make us hurt him for a while before he accepted the inevitable.

‘‘Couple of the tradesmen on this project. We have a party place over yonder a couple blocks. They passed the word. Sounded like they were just pissed off at their foreman. But I wasn’t doing nothing. So the sector chairman sent me to check it out. I was trying to find the snitches when these guys started hassling me.’’

‘‘And what snitches were you looking for?’’

Snoots dragged his feet a while. Naming names would make him unpopular.

He figured six seconds was an honorable effort. ‘‘Myndra Merkel and Bambi Fardanse.’’

‘‘Bambi?’’ Saucerhead gasped. ‘‘Really? You’re serious?’’ I beckoned. ‘‘Luther.’’ The foreman had been hanging around, trying to catch the conversation. I told him, ‘‘Bambi Fardanse and Myndra Merkel. Tell them to pick up their tools and go home. They don’t work here anymore.’’

That set him off. ‘‘Who the fuck do you think you are? You don’t fire people. They don’t work for you. They work for— Yah!’’

The shriek started when Saucerhead laid hands on. Saucerhead has a knack for wringing inarticulate noises out of uncooperative people.

‘‘That should do it. I think we have his attention. Luther. Those men are gone. See to it. Snoots, tell your boss to mind his own business. Your bunch messed with Max Weider once before. He went easy because he had friends involved. That won’t happen again. Understand? Considering the current political climate?’’

That weather was fickle but the people in charge, and, notably, the master of the secret police, enjoyed an antagonistic attitude toward the human rights movement. There were those—notably, the head of the secret police—who were overjoyed whenever evidence of rightsist misbehavior fell into their laps.

Snoots bobbed his head. He made inarticulate, whining sounds. I spun him around, slapped him on the seat of the pants. ‘‘Off you go. And I hope I don’t see you again in this life.’’

‘‘You maybe shouldn’t’ve said that, Garrett,’’ Tharpe opined a moment later. ‘‘Now you got him thinking about options he never saw before.’’

‘‘He won’t think too hard. Look over there. A man Snoots is sure to recognize. And recall that we have a special relationship.’’

Morley Dotes, Puddle, Sarge, and somebody I didn’t know were ambling along the far side of the street. Paying the World no heed. Morley and the stranger were engaged in an animated conversation. Sarge and Puddle seemed bored.

I muttered, ‘‘That son of a bitch is looking for a place to put a restaurant.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Huh? Oh. Just being startled by seeing somebody actually take my advice.’’

‘‘Is that unusual?’’

‘‘It is in this case.’’

Puddle noticing me staring. He said something. Morley looked over, waved, showed me a rack of needle teeth, then went on about his business.

Nearer to hand, Rockpile’s crew started roofing the guardhouse.