"Yes."
"Where are they?"
"I don't fucking know! They're gone. They left me behind!"
"Who did your master take with him?"
"Some mounts," Kant mumbled. "I don't know them all."
"Did he take Sascha?"
Kant sobbed wordlessly, uncontrollably. "Christ," Brennan said.
He stood and dragged Kant to the bed. He took the pair of cuffs he found among Kant's clothes piled on the floor and chained the cop to a bedpost. Kant crouched in a puddle on the floor, weeping and picking at the sore on his neck.
Brennan took the phone on the nightstand by the bed and dialed Fort Freak. "Maseryk," he said. "This is an emergency. Life or death."
It took the detective only a moment to answer.
"This better be good," he said, his voice harsh and flat. "It's your partner," Brennan said. "He's strung out." There was a shocked silence. "Drugs?" Maseryk asked after a moment.
"I don t think so. Look," Brennan said, cutting off any more queries. "I think you'd better get to Kant's apartment, fast. He needs help. And Maseryk-"
"You owe me." He hung up the phone and turned to Wraith. "Let's get the hell out of here."
"What are we going to do?" Hiram asked when Tachyon's sobbing had finally begun to subside.
"Blow the whistle," Jay said.
Dr. Tachyon bounded to his feet. "No!" he said. "Are you mad, Ackroyd? The public must never learn the truth."
"Hartmann's a monster," Jay objected.
"No one knows that better than I," said Tachyon. "I swam in the sewer of his mind. I felt the vileness that lives inside him, the Puppetman. It touched me. You can't imagine what that was like."
"I'm not a telepath," Jay said. "So sue me. I'm still not going to help you whitewash Hartmann."
"You do not understand," Tachyon said. "For close to two years Leo Barnett has been filling the public ear with dire warnings about wild card violence, inflaming their fears and their mistrust of aces. Now you propose we tell them that he was right all along, that a monstrous secret ace has indeed subverted their government. How do you think they will react?"
Jay shrugged. He was too tired and beat up for intellectual discussions. "Okay, so Barnett gets elected, big deal. So we have a right-wing dork in the White House for four years. We managed to survive Reagan for eight."
Dr. Tachyon was having none of it. "You cannot know the half of what I found in Hartmann's mind. The murders, the rapes, the atrocities, and him always at the center of his web, the Puppetman pulling his strings. I warn you, if the full story ever becomes known, the public revulsion will touch off a reign of terror that will make the persecutions of the fifties look like nothing." The alien gesticulated wildly. "He killed his own unborn child and feasted on the pain and terror of its death. And his puppets… aces, jokers, politicians, religious leaders, police, anyone foolish enough to touch him. If their names become known-"
"Tachyon," Hiram Worchester interrupted. His voice was low, but the anguish in it was as plain as nails on a blackboard. Dr. Tachyon glanced guiltily at Hiram. It was hard to say which of them looked most frightened.
"Tell me," Hiram said. "These… puppets. Was… was I… one of…" He couldn't finish, choking on the words. Tachyon nodded. A small quick nod, almost furtive. A single tear rolled down his cheek. Then he turned away. Hiram considered that, his face leaden. Then he said, "In a grotesque way, it's almost funny," but he did not laugh. "Jay, he's right. This must be our secret."
Jay looked from the tiny man to the big one, feeling outnumbered. "Do what you want," he said, "just don't expect me to vote for the fucker. Even if I was registered."
"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. The last thing he needed right now was more Takisian bullshit.
"Hiram, that glass," the alien snapped. Hiram handed him the half-finished drink, and Tachyon upended the contents onto the carpet. He bent, slid a long knife out of a sheath in his boot, and held it up in front of them. "We must pledge by blood and bone," he said. And before anyone could stop him, the Takisian took the knife in his right hand and slashed straight across his left wrist. He held the wound over the glass until there was an inch of blood on the bottom, then bound his wrist in a lace hankie and passed the knife to Jay. Jay just looked at it. "You got to be kidding."
"No," Tachyon said, face solemn.
"How about I just piss in it instead?" Jay suggested.
"The blood is the bond," Tachyon insisted.
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 as bright hot blood began to spurt from Hiram's wrist. Hiram winced and held his hand above the glass. The red line crept upward.
Then they were both looking at him.
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.
It hurt like a motherfucker.
When it was done, Dr. Tachyon swirled the glass to mix the blood, then lifted it above his head and chanted in a high singsong that Jay had to assume was 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.
Jay thought'he was going to be sick. Even Hiram looked a little queasy as Tachyon passed him the glass. "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. "You are not," Tachyon said stiffly.
"Pity," Jay said. "Always liked Bloody Marys." He lifted the glass, muttered, "Blood and Bone," and drank the last of the blood, feeling like an idiot. "Yum," he said afterward.
"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, bloody hankies dangling down absurdly from their wrists. "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."
Dr. Tachyon glanced over. "Not Chrysalis," he said. "What?" Jay said.
"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.
The little man 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 the 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."