And one thought said he should stay and face Jordan when he woke up, and tell him what he’d done; and another said it had been, quite obviously, a bad day in Jordan’s calendar, and that Jordan wouldn’t be in a receptive mood.
But he didn’t want to lie. He’d lied enough for the day. He didn’t feel easy about it–far from it. He wasn’t even sure he’d done well enough for Paul, and wanted to sit long enough for Paul not only to transit into natural sleep, but to wake up. Hell, Jordan didn’t know; Jordan wouldn’t remember. He could tell Jordan they’d agreed to it while he was blind, stupid drunk and Jordan couldn’t prove it…damn it.
“Probably time,” Grant said softly.
“I’ll look in on Paul,” Justin said. “Just he sure he’s all right.”
He got up very quietly went back to the bedroom and opened the door in silence, saw Paul had turned on his side, his favorite way to sleep, and pillowed his head on his arm, and looked comfortable enough. He shut the door then and came back to the living room as Grant got up.
“What are you doing here?” Jordan asked.
“Been here awhile,” Justin said.
“Damn.” Jordan said. “So you’re still walking around. Princess’ pets.”
“In charge of Alpha Wing, actually, so we go pretty much where we please, which is the way things are, today. Hicks isn’t in charge any more. I can’t say I’m too sorry.”
“Hicks,” Jordan said, and raked a hand through his hair and winced. “God.”
“Dad.” Justin said, and Grant laid a hand on his arm, pressure toward the door.
“How long have you been here?”
“An hour or so. Dad, I want to talk to you.”
Grant took hold of his arm, hard, and he shut up.
“Justin was worried about you,” Grant said. “Thought we’d go to dinner.”
“We can go to dinner,” Jordan said, “if they’re not shooting people on sight. Paul?”
“We can cook something here,” Justin said. “Or call out.”
“No reason we can’t go out.”
“There’s a good one.” Justin said. “You’re sleeping it off, and so is Paul, for two different reasons.”
“What’s that?” Jordan asked, frowning at him.
“Paul’s taken tape,” Justin said. “Just his regular tape.”
“The hell!”
“His regular tape. Dad, which I have access to, and have had, for some time, and while you’re busy trying to kill yourself, Paul’s been the forgotten element in this transaction.” He had the datastick in his pocket. He laid it on the counter. “This has the primary file. I’ve installed it in the minder, for his convenience.”
“Damn it!” Jordan came up off the couch and hit the corner of it.
“Watch your step,” Justin said.
“Damn you, you damned conniving, ass‑kissing bastard!” Jordan made it past the couch and Grant shoved, sent Justin back and turned toward Jordan as Jordan swung.
Grant went down, knocking into Justin, and Justin caught him short of the floor–Grant wasn’t out, just shocked, and started trying to get up again while Jordan loomed over both of them.
“Get the hell back!” Justin yelled at Jordan, and hauled, helping Grant up, and Grant grabbed him.
“That’s entirely enough,” Grant snapped, and spun him back toward the door.
“It’s not enough,” Justin said, and stood his ground. “Jordan, you self‑centered bastard, you listen to me. You let Paul come out of it on his own, you keep your mouth shut until you know how he is, and if he isn’t all right, you call me and I’ll come.”
“Did she organize this?”
“She? Did sheorganize this? What do you think, that I can’t run basic tape on somebody I’ve known since the day I was born? Or maybe it’s harder than I think. Clearly you were having trouble doing it…”
“Justin,” Grant said, and got an arm around his ribs and hauled.
“No, Grant, he’s wanting a fight. For all I know he’ll go in there and start in on Paul, drunk as he is. For all I know that’s what he hasdone!”
“You watch your damned mouth! Get out of here! Get out of here and don’t let me see you again, don’t let me ever see you!”
“What, you’re going to avoid mirrors from now on? I’m you, damn you, Jordan! That’s what you had me born to be, isn’t it? The newer, better you?”
“On your best day you aren’t, you little bastard! You’re her piece of work, you’re back in bed with her–”
“Forget your favorite obsession! You knew that territory before I ever got to it, you knew it, you connived your way into it, maybe you were even, God help you, in love with something other than having your own way. Maybe you can remember that. Maybe you can remember what it’s like to care about somebody besides yourself. Paulmight appreciate it!”
“You shut up about Paul! You let him the fuck alone, damn you!”
“Good!” he said. “Finally! Thank you!”and he gave way and let Grant drag him the rest of the way to the door.
And out it.
At which point they stood there in front of the security desk, and Mark and Gerry straightened up properly, as the door shut.
Justin drew in a deep breath, and looked up at Grant, who nursed a cut lip. “Is the tooth all right?”
“I’m sure it’s very solid,” Grant said. “I apologize. I sincerely apologize.”
“What for? For taking the punch?” He was all but vibrating with anger, but he had no one around him who wasn’t azi, and absolutely didn’t deserve what he was feeling; at the moment, a combination of the desire to break something and a conviction trying to surface, that what he’d just done and said hadn’t been the right thing–damn it. Damn it all, he’d set Jordan off, and not to Paul’s good. “I should go back in there.”
“You absolutely should not,” Grant said. “He’ll do many things, but he won’t hurt Paul.”
“What do you mean he won’t hurt Paul? He’s done nothing buthurt Paul.”
“Trust yourself. Trust Paul to handle it. Let it be.”
They had four witnesses who hadn’t asked to be witnesses, and who looked entirely confused and slightly upset.
“It’s all right.” Justin said, obliged to say it, being the only born‑man in the hallway, and supposedly rational. “It was a born‑man argument, over with. No one was hurt.”
“It is all right.” Grant said to the guards, who probably saw Grant as the sane and offended party, who had a bloody lip. “We’ll go to dinner now.”
“Are you going to be able to eat?” Justin asked, remorse and a decent shame finally making it to the surface. And he was still shaking with anger. “I don’t think I have much appetite.”
“Fruit ice,” Grant suggested. “That might do for a sore jaw.”
He was tempted to say a bar would do better, but not after his quarrel with Jordan. “Fruit ice,” he agreed, and they took the lift down and bought ices for Mark and Gerry while they were at it, over in Ed, where the best ice parlors were.
Everything was normal. Kids ran and played. Two preoccupied lovers walked along the mall, under the willows. The ice parlor had a vid, and it flashed, ominously enough, with the News logo.
Justin took a hard draw of the shaved lime ice, just watched. They had the transcript crawl on. It said:
Councillor of Information Catherine Lao has been taken to the hospital this evening with chest pains…