''Momma, what's all the racket?'' came from the shadows at the top of the stairs. But it couldn't hide the slender form of Myra, not from Abby's hungry eyes.
But Sis wasn't right. Whereas Abby remembered a willowy figure, what she saw today seemed more out of focus. The way she leaned against the wall…
''Myra, are you using?'' Abby snapped before she thought.
''No,'' she said, but the scowl on Cara's face gave it a lie.
Abby turned on her mother. ''Your own daughter!''
''It's either that or she eats all the time. A hippo ain't no use to me.''
''And you couldn't bring in some kid from the streets to handle your customers?''
''I got clients now, baby ducks. Clients that want their privacy. Got to keep things in the family now.''
''You're even more disgusting than you were when I left.''
''To empty bedpans at that fancy home. Bedpans better than what your momma does to put food on the table.''
''There was more of a future there.'' Abby bit off that line. If she let it all out, she'd have to march out the door.
And she did want to see more of Myra.
''Yeah. Now you're working for that princess. What you doing for her and all those pretty boys around her?''
Abby was about to fire back a ''Nothing!'' when the full impact of what Momma just said hit her.
''How do you know who I'm working for?''
Momma's laugh was more a cackle. ''Got you there. Look around some time at one of your fancy balls. You may just see your mamma on some well-turned-out guy's elbow. Topaz has lots of surprises for you.''
And alarm bells went off all through that part of Abby that was a trained operative.
''I can see I'm not welcome here. It's been nice seeing you again. Myra, hope we get to spend some time together while I'm here. It was good meeting you Cara, Bronc.'' Abby turned to beat a well-ordered retreat.
Abby half expected a butler, or small tactical team, to try to stop her. She was relieved when she made it out the door.
Bronc was at her elbow. Cara had been halted with a ''Where do you think you're going, young lady.''
Abby would miss the little imp, but she kept walking.
Walking her anger out, Abby wanted to quick march for the trolley. Bronc, however, had gotten a bad case of the slows.
And Abby kicked herself as she quickly reacquired the situation she was in. There were guys—in threes and fours—on a lot of street corners.
''This place suddenly popular or is this the normal crowd?'' Abby said, under her breath.
''There's too many dudes here, and I think some of them are hot,'' Bronc said.
Was that why he was slowing down?
The real reason for his delay arrived a moment later. ''Hi, Auntie,'' Cara said.
''What took you so long?'' was Bronc's greeting. ''You gonna get in trouble?'' was Abby's.
A stuck-out tongue was all that Bronc got. ''Momma's going out tonight. I'll sneak back in when she's gone. She won't remember nothing by tomorrow.''
''Ruby going out, too?''
''Yeah.''
''Why am I getting all this attention?'' Abby asked. The guys were closing in.
''A couple of nights ago, your princess got jumped,'' Bronc whispered. ''Some of the folks she put down were from here. I think they figure you owe them.''
''Now wouldn't that be a terrible end for me, paying for Kris Longknife's doings while I was home in bed.''
''You didn't do nothing?'' Cara said.
''I swear it's so. On my mother's grave.''
Cara giggled at the image, and took off, half running, half skipping for one of the clumps. This one had a tall dude in white wearing a belt with a huge gold buckle.
Cara talked to him. He listened. Then he shook his head.
It looked like Abby was about to get whopped for that damn Longknife's good luck.
No use wasting time getting it on, Abby thought.
With one swift motion, her automatic was in her hand. She sighted it on the big fellow Cara had talked with, cycled a dart into the chamber, but reduced the charge. Then lowered her aim.
A second later, the dart was sticking out of the big dudes belt-buckle.
''I could have aimed for an eye,'' Abby said in a voice that carried. ''How much you willing to pay for your fun?''
The big guy eyed his buckle, then Abby. Around him, gangers had started to go for heat. Now they waited for his signal.
Abby was glad Cara was out of the line of fire. Bronc had taken the time to back away from her. He looked ready to hit the ground at the slightest hint that the call was against Abby.
Then the big fellow laughed.
It wasn't a nice laugh, but it was full. Suddenly the gangers were all laughing.
Abby allowed herself a chuckle.
''Cara says you weren't out that night our boys got wasted.''
''Home in bed where I belong.''
''I hope with a nice guy?''
Abby gave that a noncommittal shrug.
''You be sure and stay away from that princess girl.''
''I'm just her maid. I only wash her hair.''
''Why don't you wash Cara's hair. She'd be some looker if she just cleaned up.''
Cara was trotting back to Abby. She answered that with a raspberry. That got a second laugh. Little girls could get away with what would get the head slapped off a woman a few months older.
They got to the trolley with no further surprises.
18
The tram was in the station. Abby risked running, but it pulled out before they got to it. That left Abby with an awkward twenty minutes for dudes to reconsider.
And two very quiet kids that wouldn't look her in the eye.
''What's going on? Cara wouldn't shut up when I first met her. Now you two look like someone stole your allocation of nouns for the rest of the month?''
Cara didn't meet Abby's eyes as she mumbled. ''You going to go away and never come back. You did for fifteen years,'' she blurted out. And locked eyes with Abby.
''I did that. But I'm here now, and my employer is like to be here for a while. I'll be coming back. Besides. I owe Bronc a computer.''
The relief on his face showed he figured her to stiff him.
Abby tried to show her commitment without letting him know she'd seen the doubt. ''Let me see what you're using for a 'puter. That doesn't look like anything more than a reader like you see in the doctor's office.''
''I wouldn't know. Never been to one,'' the boy said, but offered her the unit.
The thing didn't look to be more than a reader, but its screen was blank. Then Bronc said, '''Puter, what's the name of the princess visiting from Wardhaven?''
''Princess Kristine Longknife,'' a voice that sounded a lot like Cara's said. ''She recently commanded several squadrons at the Battle of Wardhaven and…''
''End that,'' Abby said. If the kids wanted to know more about her employer, they could do that on their own time. And without Abby at their elbow to be asked, with those big, truth-demanding eyes, if that was all true.
''What do you have in there?'' Abby demanded.
Bronc had the cover off his darling in a second, and Abby was looking at the most convoluted spaghetti that she'd ever seen under a computer hood. Barely visible under all kinds of stuff was the standard innards of a ten-year-old magazine reader. Jacked into that were what looked like a main processor that might have been top of the line fifteen years ago. And several memory units that might have been taken from used washing machines or who knows what.
There were other chips and boards that didn't immediately declare their purpose, but Bronc had identified noise coming from Abby's unit, and that couldn't have been easy.
''I thought I passed a Ryes on the way in here,'' Abby said.
''All the time he likes to go and look,'' Cara snorted. ''They frisk him every time to make sure he's not walking out with the store. They don't dare frisk me.''
''So you walk out with the store?'' Abby said to her niece.
''No,'' Bronc snapped. ''I'm gonna get a job there. I can't have a record. Or even be near a record.''