My eyes slowly cleared and Devus Sorsha stood over me like Death himself. Devus Sorsha was a medical technician. I believe I was his only client and had been so for decades. He was an elderly man yet his accumulated medical knowledge could fit inside a thimble with enough room left over for several fingertips.
“Go away,” I told him weakly. He always caused more trouble than he solved.
“You need to drink and get your strength back.”
I was about to answer when he stuck a spigot in my mouth. I tasted some foul, hot liquid.
There were maybe two working taste buds on my entire tongue and he had discovered them. My first taste experience in years was one of bitter revulsion.
I clenched my jaw out of habit, severing the metal spigot, which caused a torrent of the putrid liquid to jet all over my face and body.
“Whoops,” he said, with the same gentle manner, as if he wasn’t pouring acid on me. “Open your mouth. You’re going to choke on the spout. Open your mouth,” he chided.
I did so and he fished around like a plumber. When he had recovered the piece, he went back to drowning me.
“Boss,” MTB said.
I tried to push Devus Sorsha away, but he was nimble for one so ancient.
“Get him out of here,” I tried to say, but a great stream of Devus Sorsha’s “medicine” gushed out of my mouth, making my command unintelligible.
MTB was smart enough to see where I was pointing and my anger, and he ushered my torturer away with some kind words.
I wiped my face and chin and saw I was lying on the ramp just outside my front door. Had I crawled here? I didn’t remember.
The odd singing was still going on, so I hadn’t imagined that. Though I wished I had.
“What is that terrible noise?” I asked, when MTB returned.
“That’s the women you brought over from the Royal Wing and put on that roof,” he said, indicating the building across the street. “They were told you were injured down here and may never recover and they’ve been singing nonstop to boost your spirits.”
“That’s singing? They gave me nightmares.”
“They’re your angels. They brought you back, sweet voices or not.”
“Great, so I got murderers and thieves as my guardians, what’s that say about me?” I asked. “How long was I unconscious?”
“About thirty hours or so.”
That was actually pretty impressive. In the past when I got knocked out and had Devus Sorsha looking after me, weeks had often gone by. But this mishap was going to make me even denser, as my body healed and thickened. I could just about hear my heart slowing.
“How did I get here?”
“We pulled you with the heavy lifter.”
“You dragged me twenty… twenty-five blocks?” I asked, annoyed.
“Pulled,” he corrected.
“What’s the difference between drag and pull?”
“One is slower.”
“Which is slower?” I tried to confirm.
“Whichever one makes you less mad.”
MTB was learning.
“Why did you leave me on my front porch with those songstresses tormenting me?”
“How were we going to get you inside? Can’t drive a heavy lifter into your living room.”
“I’m going to go in and eat and sleep for a while, but then we’re going to ride out and arrest Peush. He’s behind all this crap,” I said.
“Peush is dead. 19-10 killed him. During the daytime, in front of fifty people.”
“Huh. Well. Good, I guess. I don’t have to kill him now and cause a riot.”
“Oh, there’s a riot. It’s the Order, the Totki, and the Republic all fighting. And the gangs have jumped in and are battling over Zadeck’s territory and whatever else. It all started once word got out that you were out of commission.”
I couldn’t spare the breath to sigh, but I kind of wished I was back in my coma.
“Great. But why is the Olmarr Republic rioting? They can’t think I’m 19-10. That guy is skinny,” I said.
“It’s all ‘the government’ to them. Some conspiracy. I swear, Boss, they’re worse than the Totki.”
“I noticed that too. I misjudged them. I think I was biased because they didn’t look weird or talk weird and weren’t a fruity religion. I didn’t pay attention to what they were actually saying.”
“You were right,” MTB said.
“About the Olmarr?”
“About everything. Whatever you were doing to maintain the quiet, it’s worn off. There are hundreds of thousands of people in the streets.”
“That fast? That many?”
“The Kommilaire can’t do anything. We’re just standing around watching. People are dying all over. Getting robbed. Worse. There is no law.”
“Happened while I was sleeping. I wasn’t sure when it would happen. I kept saying it would, but I half didn’t believe it myself.”
“They even tried to attack Delovoa’s street. I guess they figured he had good stuff to filch.”
“That couldn’t have worked out for them.”
“No. He killed them all. Melted a couple buildings next to his block in the process.”
“Delovoa can take care of himself.”
I began to try and inch closer to my apartment door. I wanted to be inside and get away from the Harpy’s Choir.
“So how do we stop it?”
“Stop what?” I replied, not looking back.
“The riots. The gang wars.”
I paused and stared at MTB.
“We don’t,” I said. Had he thought I was exaggerating all these years? “If what you say is true, somewhere between three-to-five-to-ten percent of the population is in open warfare. We got Stair Boys that number in the low hundreds. That’s like facing a forest fire with a cup of water. We got to wait for that fire to be closer to cup-size before we can even think of doing anything. You made the right call. Just stay out of the way and observe.”
“The city is going to dismantle itself if we do nothing,” he said.
“Maybe. But fights usually don’t work like that. Not among normal people. You get two guys who are pissed as hell at each other and set them to boxing. They swear they’re going to kill the other guy dead no doubt about it. But then they break their hands, crack their ribs, knock out a few teeth, and suddenly fighting becomes a whole lot less interesting.”
“You think it will run out of steam?”
“It’s not a civil war. We don’t have tanks and missiles and armies of Therezians or—I hope—clones. Unless I don’t understand Belvaille, we’re going to end up with a lot of property damage, some new bosses, and maybe three new factions or three less factions. I don’t know. But there’s not a lot we can do. It’s too big. We’ll react to the results. Maybe nudge it one way or the other.”
“I talked to a trader and he said the Boards went sour as soon as word got out that you were hurt.”
I sat thinking about that.
“I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or an insult. They’re either upset I was injured or upset I wasn’t killed outright.”
CHAPTER 50
“Where have you been?” I asked Valia.
“I got stuck southeast when the city erupted. Suddenly being a sexy, female Kommilaire out in the streets was a bad thing.”
“That was forty hours ago,” I challenged.
“No, it wasn’t. You were unconscious, how do you even know?” Valia asked.
That was true. I could have been out for a month and they were just humoring me. It did seem like the city had fallen to pieces rather swiftly.
“Whatever,” I grumbled. “So how is the southeast?”
“Same as anywhere else, I suppose. I can’t tell who the bad guys are.”
“The ones pointing guns at you,” MTB said.
“Not a lot of guns that I saw,” she said.
“Maybe our decades of disarmament actually worked,” MTB told me.