Cruel Zinc Melodies

57

A train of wagons had appeared outside the World. Saucerhead was directing traffic, moving them on to park farther along once they unloaded.

Curious bystanders had begun to turn out. We had giant bugs, flying thunder lizards, and now, ratpeople by the wagonload. That’s entertainment.

Morley and his crew continued working rentable buildings nearby.

The wagons spilled ratmen and cages full of cranky rats. More than ever before. I spotted John Stretch. He must have been preparing for the callback for days. I headed his way. ‘‘Thought you’d had enough of this place.’’

‘‘I do not like it, Mr. Garrett. It is a bad place. But it could make me rich.’’

‘‘And me poor. The Dead Man hired you?’’

‘‘Yes. He wants one more offensive against the bugs from down below.’’

‘‘They’re so big now, your best rats may not be able to hold their own.’’

‘‘This could be the last time this approach is possible. Rats are not smart. They are cunning. But they do learn. And they pass their learning along. By the time today’s game is played out, it may be impossible to gather any significant number of feral rats willing to be used here.’’

‘‘Ratpeople could take over.’’

‘‘You are mad.’’

‘‘It’s completely safe. Hell, there’s a family of dwarves down there poking around right now.’’

‘‘There are ghosts.’’

‘‘That only bother humans.’’

‘‘Till now.’’

John Stretch was well on into an extended graphic description of what I could do with my idea about sending ratmen down when an unexpected visitor interrupted.

‘‘Rocky? Hey!’’ It was the midget troll who made deliveries for a living. ‘‘What’re you up to?’’

Rocky is a blazing fast talker. For a troll. He’s had too much exposure to human beings. It took him only ten seconds to get going on an answer. ‘‘It is my day off. Playmate told me you might could use some help. I could use a little extra money.’’

‘‘Playmate had a good idea.’’ I sure could use Rocky. Nothing much will dent a troll, let alone do serious damage. Plus, Rocky was small enough to get around in the same kinds of places dwarves can go. While being a dozen times stronger.

Hell, this was an idea so great it was embarrassing that it took a preacher man to think it up.

There was a problem, though. Trolls and dwarves are not an inert mix. No way could I send Rocky down to help Rindt Grinblatt. The Grinblatts would, almost certainly, attempt to test to destruction Rocky’s natural invulnerability.

‘‘Here’s what you do to start. John Stretch!’’ I beckoned the ratman. ‘‘John Stretch, this is Rocky. He’s going to go inside with you. He’ll handle any physical challenges that come up.’’ I told Rocky what we were up against and how he could protect the ratmen.

He said, ‘‘I hope it’s warmer inside there, Garrett. This cold really slows me down.’’

‘‘Warm won’t be a problem.’’ John Stretch’s people were complaining about the heat. And ratfolk like it hot.

Rocky went off with John Stretch.

Luther planted himself in front of me. Before he started, I said, ‘‘Work around them.’’

‘‘There’s ghosts already. They don’t usually come out this early.’’

‘‘We’re trying to deal with that. Remember, they’re harmless. They just manipulate your emotions.’’

‘‘Yeah. I know. But knowing and believing are two whole different buckets of monkey piss.’’

That was hard to argue. I’d seen it too often. Fear has its own logic. Too often, there isn’t a dread of physical harm driving it. ‘‘All right. If you must, take breaks. That’s all right. As long as I see everybody challenging their courage.’’ I leaned in, whispered, ‘‘We don’t want no ratmen making us look bad, do we?’’

During Snoots’ visit I’d gotten the notion that Luther didn’t disdain rightsist ideals.

Luther was surprised. For an instant. Then puzzled. Then satisfied enough to smile. ‘‘Right. Got you.’’

Which left me feeling unclean. But not a lot. That’s management. Tell them what they need to hear to get them through the day. Tomorrow can take care of itself.

I screwed up my courage, went inside to see how the ratfolk were doing. Wondering why Singe hadn’t come to stick her nose in.

The heat was amazing. I ordered every doorway propped open. Why hadn’t anybody done that? And there were vents up top, there to let the heat out when the World filled up with playgoers. Those were shut, too.

Might the thing down below be like a snake or thunder lizard? Or troll? Would a good chill slow it down?

The ratmen were staying out of the way of the workmen. Who weren’t being too unpleasant to them. John Stretch had set up down on the cellar level. That helped.

Ghosts wandered everywhere. At least a dozen of them, all just milky shimmers. The ratmen saw them but weren’t impressed. The tradesmen weren’t bothered, either. None coalesced into anything anyone found frightening. Too many minds, too many ghosts, too many distractions.

A lot of people doing a lot of stuff might just be the perfect workaround.

Luther, making a circuit of his troops, paused to shoot me a thumbs-up.