“Did you think I couldn’t see him sneaking up on me?” Farkas asked. “Or you, going for your spike? It’s 360 degrees, the blindsight. Something that Dr. Wu must have forgotten. All these years on the run, I guess you start to forget things.”
Jesus, Juanito thought. Couldn’t even get the drop on a blind man from behind him. And now he’s going to kill me. What a stupid way to die this is.
He imagined what Kluge might say about this, if he knew. Or Delilah. Nattathaniel. Decked by a blind man.
But he isn’t blind. He isn’t blind. He isn’t blind at all.
Farkas said, “How much did you sell me to him for, Juanito?”
The only sound Juanito could make was a muffled moan. His mouth was choked with sharp bits of slag.
“How much? Five thousand? Six?”
“It was eight,” said Wu quietly.
“At least I didn’t go cheaply,” Farkas murmured. He reached into Juanito’s pocket and withdrew the spike. “Get up,” he said. “Both of you. Stay close together. If either of you makes a funny move I’ll kill you both. Remember that I can see you very clearly. I can also see the door through which we entered the shell. That starfish-looking thing over there, with streamers of purple light pulsing from it. We’re going back into El Mirador now, and there won’t be any surprises, will there? Will there?”
Juanito spit out a mouthful of slag. He didn’t say anything.
“Dr. Wu? The offer still stands,” Farkas continued. “You come with me, you do the job we need you for. That isn’t so bad, considering what I could do to you for what you did to me. But all I want from you is your skills, and that’s the truth. You are going to need that refresher course, aren’t you, though?”
Wu muttered something indistinct.
Farkas said, “You can practice on this boy, if you like. Try retrofitting him for blindsight first, and if it works, you can do our crew people, all right? He won’t mind. He’s terribly curious about the way I see things, anyway. Aren’t you, Juanito? Eh? Eh?” Farkas laughed. To Juanito he said, “If everything works out the right way, maybe we’ll let you go on the voyage with us, boy.” Juanito felt the cold nudge of the spike in his back. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? The first trip to the stars? What do you say to that, Juanito?”
Juanito didn’t answer. His tongue was still rough with slag. With Farkas prodding him from behind, he shambled slowly along next to Dr. Wu toward the door that Farkas said looked like a starfish. It didn’t look at all like a fish to him, or a star, or like a fish that looked like a star. It looked like a door to him, as far as he could tell by the feeble light of the distant bulbs. That was all it looked like, a door that looked like a door. Not a star. Not a fish. But there was no use thinking about it, or anything else, not now, not with Farkas nudging him between the shoulderblades with his own spike. He let his mind go blank and kept on walking.