Behind him Tach heard Hiram say, "In a grotesque way, it's almost funny," but he did not laugh. "Jay, he's right. This must be our secret."
When he turned around Tach found Ackroyd looking from Hiram to himself, and back again. The detective's eyes were bitter. "Do what you want," he said, "just don't expect me to vote for the fucker. Even if I was registered."
Suddenly Tach realized this was too important. He could not rely upon only their unsupported word. "We must take a vow." Tachyon said. "A solemn oath, to do everything in our power to stop Hartmann, and to take this secret to our graves."
"Oh, gimme a break," Jay groaned.
"Hiram, that glass," the alien snapped. Hiram handed him the half-finished drink, and Tachyon upended the contents on the carpet. He bent, slid the long knife out of his bootsheath, and held it up in front of the fascinated and aghast humans. "We must pledge by blood and bone," he said.
His grip on the hilt was slick with sweat, but he slashed hard across his left wrist. He was pleased that his only reaction was a soft almost inaudible intake of breath. Perhaps Earth had not softened him as much as he feared. Tach held the wound over the glass until there was an inch of blood on the bottom, then bound his wrist in a handkerchief and passed the knife to Ackroyd.
The detective just looked at it. "You got to be kidding." 'No. '
"How about I just piss in it instead?" Jay suggested. "The blood is the bond."
Hiram stepped forward. "I'll do it," he said, taking the knife. He shrugged out of his white linen coat, rolled up his sleeve, and made the cut. The pain made him inhale sharply, but his hand did not hesitate.
"So deep," Tachyon muttered. The cut was deep enough to be dangerous. Was Hiram so devastated by the betrayal that suicide seemed an option? Hiram winced and held his hand above the glass. The red line crept upwards.
Tachyon bent a stern eye on Ackroyd.
Jay sighed deeply. "So if you two are Huck and Tom, I guess that makes me Nigger Jim," he said. "Remind me to have my head examined when all of this is over." He took the knife, and yelped as the blade bit into the skin.
Accepting the snifter from the sweating Jay, Tachyon swirled the glass to mix the bloods one with the other, then lifted it above his head and chanted in Takisian. "By Blood and Bone, I so vow," he finished. He threw back his head, and drained a third of the glass in one long gulp.
Tachyon thrust the glass at Hiram. Both the humans looked nauseated.
"By Blood and Bone," Hiram intoned, and took his ritual swallow.
"Am I allowed to add some tabasco, maybe a little vodka?" Jay asked when Hiram gave him what was left.
Ackroyd's wisecracks were beginning to wear a little thin. "You are not," said Tachyon stiffly.
"Pity," Jay said. "Always liked Bloody Marys." He lifted the glass, muttered, "Blood and Bone," and drank the last of the blood. "Yum," he said afterwards.
"It is done," Tachyon said. "Now, we must make plans."
"I'm going back to the Omni," Hiram announced. "I was among Gregg's earliest supporters, and I daresay I am not without influence in the New York delegation. I may be able to have some impact. We must deny him the nomination, at all costs. "
"Agreed," said Tachyon.
"I wish I knew more about Dukakis… " Hiram began. "Not Dukakis," the alien said. "Jesse Jackson. He has been courting us all along. I'll speak to him." He clasped hands with Hiram. "We can do it, my friend."
"Real good," Jay said. "So Greggie doesn't get to be president. Big deal. What about all his victims? Kahina, Chrysalis, the rest of them."
Tachyon glanced over. "Not Chrysalis," he said, not believing he had forgotten to tell them this.
"What?" Jay croaked.
"He threatened Chrysalis, yes," the alien said. "He made her and Digger watch while his creature tortured and killed Kahina, but he never acted on that threat. When he heard of her death on Monday morning, he was as surprised as anyone."
"No fucking way," Jay said. "You got it wrong."
Nostrils tightening in fury Tachyon pulled himself up to his full height. "I am a Psi Lord of Takis, trained by the finest mentats of House Ilkazam," he said. "His mind was mine. I did not get it wrong."
"He sent Mackie after Digger!" Jay argued.
"And he commanded Oddity to retrieve the incriminating jacket, and destroy it. Most assuredly. After he heard that Chrysalis was dead, he took steps to protect himself. But he had no hand in ordering that death." Tachyon put a hand on Jay's shoulder. "I'm sorry, my friend."
"Then who the fuck did it?" Jay demanded.
"We have no time to argue about this now," Hiram said impatiently. "The woman's dead, nothing will-"
"Quiet," Jay said urgently.
A newsflash flickered across the screen. ". latest tragedy to strike the convention," a solemn announcer was saying. "Senator Hartmann is unharmed, repeat, unharmed, but reliable reports indicate that the ace assassin took the lives of two other men in his attempt to reach the senator. We are still waiting for final confirmation, but unofficial sources indicate that the killer's victims were Alex James, a Secret Service agent assigned to Senator Hartmann-" A photograph of the dead man appeared on the screen, above the announcer's shoulder. "-and the chairman of Hartmann's California delegation, ace Jack Braun. The controversial Braun, who starred in feature films and TV's Tarzan, was better known as Golden Boy. He was considered by some to be the strongest man in the world. Braun first came to public attention-… "
Jack's picture appeared on screen as the announcer went on and on. He was in his old fatigues, smiling crookedly, surrounded by a golden glow. He looked young, alive, invincible.
"Oh, Jack," Tachyon said. For thirty years he had prayed for Jack's death. Even plotted it in angry alcoholic dreams. Now it had come and another little part of Tisianne died.
"He can't be dead," Hiram said furiously. "I just saved his damnable life last night!" The television set floated off the carpet. Scraped against the ceiling. "He cannot be dead!"
Hiram insisted, and all of a sudden the TV was falling. It hit the floor, and the picture tube exploded.
"He will not have died in vain," Tachyon said. Did it mean anything? He didn't think so. He just spoke to assure himself that he was still alive. Tach touched Hiram on the arm. "Come," he said.
The pain was greater than anything Jack had ever imagined. It burned through him from head to toe, searing every nerve, every muscle, every square millimeter of skin. His brain had gone nova. His heart was an exploding turbopump. His eyes felt as if they were melting. Every cell in his body was on fire, every strand of DNA in revolt against its inherited code.
The black queen, Jack realized. Somehow he'd just drawn the black queen.
He could feel his body shutting down in protest against the agony. Bit by bit, organ by organ, like someone throwing all the circuit breakers in a big building.
The pain ended.
He saw himself crumpled on the landing, his face set in an expression of dumb shock. The assassin, barely able to move, managed to get his jacket off and wrap it around his head, stopping the flow of blood from his mangled jaw. "Hey," Jack said. He tried to grab the guy. "Stop!" Somehow the assassin crawled away.
"Yo. Farm boy."
Jack looked up in surprise at the sound of Earl Sanderson's voice. Earl looked younger than when Jack had seen him last, the young athlete just graduated from Rutgers, and was dressed in his old Army Air Corps fatigues with the insignia taken off, his leather flying jacket with the patch of the 332nd Fighter Group, the black beret, and long silk scarf. The Black Eagle scholar, athlete, civil rights attorney, ace… and maybe Jack's best friend.