Faded Steel Heat

76

If Tama Montezuma knew anything about or had had anything to do with or had any feelings about the previous night's events, she gave no sign at breakfast. "Good morning, Garrett. I would've wakened you earlier but Tinnie told me you haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Damn! I never warned Tinnie. But she was all right so it didn't matter.

"He seldom gets up before the crack of noon, anyway," Tinnie said. "This's way early for him."

"Hey!" I protested. Then, "Never mind. Tama, Tinnie tells me you've had word that Marengo is headed home."

"A messenger came a few hours ago. Said Marengo is on his way. And that he won't be in a good mood." For just an instant her eyes seemed shifty, evasive, troubled. "Last night didn't work out for him."

"How come he left you here?" I had been thinking about that and, not being a major aficionado of Marengo North English, had developed some suspicions concerning Marengo and his interest in female persons who were not his wife or niece. I refused to believe that North English was so devoted to his convictions that he had gone off to help bully TunFaire's nonhuman population.

"A dangerous level of confrontation was anticipated." That sounded like a quote from Marengo. "But before you jump to any conclusions, I chose to remain here." And that sounded like the truest thing she had said for a while.

I glanced at Tinnie. Her thoughts had taken her elsewhere.

I hadn't seen anything yesterday to suggest that something dramatic was going happen. On the other hand, I had spent the whole day distracted. Tinnie's presence seldom left me with attention to spare.

Still, you tend not to overlook big gangs of guys all dressed in brown marching back and forth singing and busting heads wherever they find somebody not dressed in brown and marching and singing their favorite songs.

I didn't pursue my question. Tama volunteered, "He said it would be too dangerous." Her mask of control had begun to show cracks.

The missing mob began returning.

First to appear were a dozen freecorps types who roared through the house demanding food. They were ragged. I observed, "The other guys must really look bad." Slings and head bandages were plentiful. Smiles and laughter were not.

Maybe the other guys never got their hands dirty.

Rightsists kept turning up, alone, in pairs, in small bands. Many were injured. The mood was grim. I suspected some wouldn't return at all.

They paid me no attention. They even ignored Tinnie.

"What's with those guys?" I asked Tama, back in the library at last. She'd spent some time helping feed them. "They don't act human."

"They got their butts kicked. Their big show turned on them."

Damn! TunFaire had long dreaded some huge demonstration by The Call. And I missed it. Out of town. Gone fishing.

Was I lucky, or what?

"How come they don't notice you or Tinnie? None of those guys is over a hundred."

"Marengo is inflexible when it comes to what he considers correct behavior. He has made it clear he considers correct behavior a hallmark of the superior being. These men are all superior beings. Therefore, they must conform to the highest standards. Your friend and I are spoken for. It would be incorrect behavior for them to surrender to their natural inclinations. They must show themselves to be the superior creatures they claim to be. Marengo insists. And Marengo pays the bills." Tama said every word with a face so straight you knew she wanted to explode in giggles. She whispered, "I'll tell you a secret, though. When they're in the city, surrounded by persons of other stations and Other Races, they act their ages and classes."

"You can take the boy out of life but you can't take the life out of the boy."

"I'll bet you know what you're talking about, too. Tut-tut."

I had tried to talk to several men, in passing. I'd gotten nothing but grunts and scowls for my trouble. It didn't seem politic to press. "Did they get into it with centaurs?"

"Centaurs?" Tama seemed startled. She recovered quickly. "I don't think so. It just seems all the Other Races were ready to fight. The rioting grew bad enough that troops were sent in, some places."

Bet that didn't do much good. Short-timers who thought just like The Call weren't going to be fanatics about defending non-humans. Their real mission would be to ensure the sanctity of the property of wealthy friends of The Call, anyway, probably.

Call me cynical.

The Call's strategy was no secret. They'd been pursuing it on a small scale for weeks. They wanted to terrorize nonhumans and destroy their property so they would flee TunFaire. Last night's riots would've been intended to become so intense and widespread that the Crown could do nothing but let them run their course.

The Inner Council of The Call had expected the night to be a watershed. They'd counted on the fire of human resentment to flare out of control everywhere.

It hadn't happened. They'd gotten limited support and unlimited resistance.

The fire had blown back into their faces. The most militant nonhumans had been ready for them. Somebody had snitched on The Call.

It wasn't an ignominious defeat, though. It was just an acute embarrassment.