I had not heard Reckter speak as much nor with as much force. Those earlier conversations had been arguments, it seemed, as they tried to work out how to get the outsider to help them without telling him why. This could still be a ruse, I suppose, but it seemed genuine. My questions had not been anticipated and for once, they had been caught unprepared.
I leaned back from the table, partly to stretch and partly to buy some time as I watched them both. Erst seemed to have shrunk, his posture slumped, his face dismayed. Reckter, for his part, was ramrod straight, his eyes flashing, his chin jutting, looking like a man in control.
“Erst, I have not meant to give offense. I am a plainspoken man, used to dealing with duplicity and evasion at every turn. I am experienced at detecting evasions and the like. I would rather we dealt openly with each other. I cannot keep secrets from you as you well know, and I would like to have the same courtesy from you.”
The old man looked up slightly, raising his chin without changing anything else about his posture. His eyes were cold, slightly narrowed, as if he were angry.
“We did not undertake to admit an outsider to our world so he could bargain with us. I had hoped we could enlist your help without explaining more than was absolutely necessary. I find I cannot rely on that happening.” He shot a sidelong glance at Reckter who never noticed it, to Erst’s annoyance.
“We need your help or someone’s to get these men and their explosive away from this area. There are other places that offer the same challenges and opportunities, nowhere near anything as potentially dangerous as here. If they were to break through here, you have no idea what it could mean for your people, your whole world. I may be asking too much when I ask you to take my word for it, but I am going to do just that.”
I nodded. I wasn’t interested in fighting with the old man, and if he could find it in him to play fair, I would try to find a way to help him.
“You speak in riddles that I would like to have resolved. I see no dangers here, and the land as far as the eye can see looks lush, soft, and inviting. I would like to know more so I can make understand the risk. You keep speaking of dangers and far-ranging effects. What do you mean? Is this somehow related to where Therian is?”
“I need to consider how best to reveal these things to you. But yes, I suspect Therian will have some information for us when he returns. I could tell from his expression that he was concerned about some . . . things.”
More riddles, more mysteries. I was growing tired of this. My expression, if not my thoughts, surely conveyed that. I looked out the door and toward the windows, to see if there was anything else to do besides sit here.
“Come, let’s leave this for now. Erst is tired and needs to think more on how best to make you aware of what you should know. I leave it to him.”
With that, Reckter and I left the old man to figure out how much he could tell me.
* * *
Rodrigo had been propping up his end of the bar when Jackson had come in, flushed and disheveled after his meeting with Cranby. He had known the meeting and was interested in how it had gone. Not well, would be his first guess. Jackson had already called for a measure and had his hand out waiting for it. He was usually more cagey than that, willing to let the other guy lose his self-control, if there was any advantage to be gained from it.
Jackson was one of Cranby’s more trusted operatives, as far as Cranby trusted anyone. Rodrigo had been looking for some way to crack that inner circle for some time, and as far as he could tell, was very close. He knew how to read the signs and he could tell that Jackson had been kicked, hard, by the old tyrant. That could be the chance he needed. But he couldn’t be sure and he dared not approach Cranby. He needed to be summoned.
He and Jackson were not close — they saw each other as rivals in many things, Cranby’s network not the least of them — but they had shared a drink before now. He saw no reason not to pass the time with him, and perhaps learn something useful. He picked up his glass and walked across the room.
Jackson saw him coming and looked away with a scowl. He knew full well what Rodrigo was angling for and he would be damned if it came at his expense. He needed to think of two quick things, one a story for his demeanor, since he knew that was the trigger for Rodrigo to come over, and two, something to undercut the benefits of working for Cranby.
“Jackson.”
“Rodrigo.”
“I’ll take the next round,” Rodrigo said as he emptied his glass and signaled the barman. Jackson raised his glass, nodded, and drank the last of his. The barman produced fresh glasses and took away the empties.
“How are things? Staying busy?” An innocuous opening gambit, to be sure.
“Yeah, there are a few things happening in the older sectors. And that tunnel that was opened some time back is being shored up for exploration. Could be there’s something there. Depends on whether people know what they’re looking at.”
Jackson’s contempt for Angstrom was well known. His knowledge of the work he did was all learned in little settlements like this, on the job, and he didn’t appreciate being corrected or having his advice ignored by someone who claimed to know more. Angstrom’s army training, backed up by his academic studies — he had left without taking a degree — was seen as preferable to someone who had lost his clients to cave-ins more than once.
And for all his textbooks and calculations, the newcomer hadn’t found anything in his time here. He charged more, spent less time in the field, but hadn’t been able to help anyone find anything. For his part, Jackson hadn’t either, but he felt charging less and getting dirtier gave him the moral high ground.
“Well, it’s not like a lot of guys are finding anything. I hear more and more that there isn’t anything to find, and we should all go find someplace else.”
“Huh. If this Angstrom is so smart, why ain’t he saying that? He’s taking everyone’s money, that’s why. And the boss don’t like it. He figures Angstrom knows something and he’s going to come up with some find that he should have told someone about, but somehow didn’t. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Interesting, thought Rodrigo. Cranby suspects someone else has found something he’s missed all this time. Serve him right, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take his money.”
“No, I never see Angstrom. I saw him buy that horse at the auction the other day, and I heard he was going to take a ride out into the hills on it. Don’t know if he did or not.”
Oh, yeah, he did, alright. And you might be lying about not knowing. But I don’t care.
“Yeah, I heard that too. He’s like that. Never rides anywhere, then buys a horse and thinks he ready to ride across the wastelands. Not as smart as he thinks he is, you watch and see.”
“I don’t know. I don’t care about him one way or the other. Never gotten in my way. Maybe he does know something. It makes sense if he looks for it up in the hills. We know it ain’t down here, because we’re looked everywhere.”
Jackson was silent and looked out across the room. There were a couple of old-timers in the corner across the room, playing cards. The barman had disappeared into the back.
“What if he does find something? You think he’ll take you or me on to dig it out? I bet he sends for some city boys to come out, pays them twice what we would get, and takes the lot back to the city. You think anyone here is going to like that?”
“Would you pay us to do anything but stay away?” Rodrigo smiled. Angstrom wasn’t quite that obvious but there was no mistaking his feelings about some of the locals. Paying them to stay away, where they couldn’t steal anything, was something he could do, but only if he knew he never planned to come back. After an inexcusable insult like that, he would never be safe again.
Jackson scowled. Like all petty thieves, he didn’t regard his skimming and pocketing of small amounts stealing, more as a way of rectifying some inequities in how hardworking people like himself were paid. A more accomplished thief wouldn’t hesitate to call what he did stealing, but as a matter of pride, he wouldn’t stop at such small amounts. Small crimes are for small minds, that was the creed of your true criminal class.