He was completely in Donal's persona for the moment, Amanda noticed with some satisfaction. She had hoped to trigger some of those older memories by what she would show him. That part of him that was Donal had uses he had been too quick to forget.
They came finally to the new section of town, where the controlled locals lived. In less than two years it had become an obvious slum, its only redeeming feature being a cleanliness which was a result of ingrained habit in the older Exotics, which had caused the streets and building fronts to keep a relative decency of appearance. Here and there, a small bunch of flowers had been put in a window, or an attempt had been made to plant something decorative in the small strip of earth between the edge of the street and the front wall of a house.
Amanda turned in at the door of one of the innumerable look-alike row houses and knocked. There was no response. She waited for what seemed to Hal an unusually long time, then knocked again. They waited. At last there was the sound of shoe leather on bare wooden flooring beyond the door, and the door itself swung back.
It opened just enough to show a woman in her fifties with a face the sagging flesh of which told of recently lost weight. Her gray hair was cut relatively short, pulled back and tied more in a ponytail than a bun, though its bunching at the back had something of the characteristics of both. She stared at them blankly. "Marlo!" said Amanda. "Don't you know me? It's me, Corrin, and Kaspar, one of my brothers. Is Nier here? I'd like her to meet him." "No. No, she's not."
The woman Amanda had called Marlo had opened the door just enough so that the width of her body blocked it. She raised her voice as if she wanted someone inside to hear her answering. "She doesn't live with me anymore. She went to work and live at the garrison-"
A man's voice shouted something unintelligible from inside. "Nothing!" she called back over her shoulder. "Just some people asking about Nier. I told them to go - find her at the barracks. "
She looked back out at Hal and Amanda, and her face contorted suddenly into a grimace of desperate warning. She jerked her head minutely, as if to signal them to move on up the street.
But already there were the sounds of steps on the floor behind her. The door was pulled all the way open and a somewhat overweight man of medium height appeared as he pushed the old woman aside. He was wearing black military slacks and a white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. His face was made up of small features - small eyes, small nose and small mouth. It showed a full twenty-six hours of stubble. He was in his late thirties or early forties and his red hair was graying. Through the stubble, freckles could still be seen on the weathered skin of his face and the backs of his small, soft-looking hands. "Well, well," he said, in a voice that had a bullfrog-like croak to it. He was not drunk, but there was a slight thickening to his words that showed he was on his way to being so. "Look at this. An oversize bull, and an oversize cala lily. And you used to be friends of our dear, departed Nier, were you?" "She barely knew Nier. This is her brother, who's never met Nier," said Marlo quickly. "Well, well, what of it?" said the soldier. "I'm Corporal Iban. Where's your manners, Marlo? Invite these good friends of Nier's inside!"
He stood back from the door. "I'm Corrin," said Amanda as they came into a small room that was at once kitchen, dining and living room. "My brother's name is Kaspar."
The kitchen sink, cooking surface and cupboards occupied the corner to the right of the door as they entered. Before them was a kitchen table with one straight chair drawn up to it, and on it a bottle of clear glass three-quarters full of colorless liquid, standing beside a half-empty tumbler. Beyond were three more chairs like the one at the table and a porch bench with back, which had been furnished with cushions, obviously homemade. "Well, now, you're really a cala lily, Corrin," said Iban. He ran his eyes over Amanda, grinning a little. "You don't know what a cala lily is, do you'? But I do. It's an Earth flower. I've seen a picture of one, and you're a cala lily, all right. Yes, you are."
He gestured widely to the table. "Sit down," he said, taking his own seat in the one chair that was already at the table. "Pull up chairs. Let's get to know each other. "
Marlo hastened to help with the chairs. "I didn't say you could sit down!" Iban's voice was abruptly ugly and his eyes were on Marlo.
Suddenly a small coal of anger glowed in the ashes of Hal's inner unhappiness with himself, so that for a moment the unhappiness was forgotten. Perhaps he could no longer think of himself as Dorsai, but nonetheless there was still the strength and knowledge in him to lay his hands on this soft-muscled bully, and by the very power and capability of the grip make the other aware that he could be broken like a dry stick. This much he could do-
Hal forced the unexpected reaction from him. That was not the way. He had learned it long since. "I was just going to help..." "Ah, that's all right, then. Yes, help. Help yourself to a drink, Lily, and you - whatever your name is. Get some glasses, woman!"
Marlo hurried to get two more tumblers. "His name's Kaspar," said Amanda. "Kaspar. You told me that. Kaspar-" Abruptly than laughed and drank, and laughed again. Seeing the other two tumblers were now on the table, he poured a small amount from the bottle into each one. "Drink up."
Amanda took a delicate sip from hers and put the tumbler back down again in front of her. "It's strong," she said. "Oh yes, it's strong," said Iban. Hal was trying to place the man's origins. He was neither Exotic, Friendly, Dorsai, nor a mix of any of those sub-cultures. Not educated enough for someone from Cassida or Newton. He might be from New Earth, where there was still a polyglot of subcultures, or Ceta, where there was even more. Than suddenly turned on him. "You, Kaspar!" said Than sharply. "You drink!"
Hal picked up his tumbler and swallowed the inch or so of liquid inside it. It was a high-proof distilled liquor, a little too smooth in taste to have been made in some backyard still, unless on the Exotics nowadays they had some very good backyard stills. He thought that if the other had any idea of amusing himself by watching as the stranger got drunk on an unaccustomed (as alcohol would be to most Exotics) intoxicant, he would find himself very mistaken. Hal had not had a drink in over three years, but he had discovered in the Coby mines that it took more to get him drunk than it did most people. "Kaspar," said Iban. He poured a somewhat larger amount into Hal's tumbler. "That's a dog's name. Good Kaspar. Lap that up, Kaspar."
Hal picked up the glass.
"I said lap it!" snapped Iban. "Not drink it, Kaspar. Lap it! " "My tongue's too short," said Hal mildly, sticking his tongue down into the glass to show it could not reach the liquid within. "You!" said Than to Marlo, without turning his head. "Get a saucer! "
Marlo obeyed, putting the saucer without orders on the table in front of Hal. "Pour it into the saucer, Kaspar," said Iban. "That's right. Now lap it up like a good dog-"
He shoved his chair back suddenly, its legs screeching on the bare floor, and got up.
"And just in case you don't know how to lap, I'm going to teach you," he said over his shoulder, going through an inner doorway into the unlighted room beyond and around a corner out of their sight. His voice came back to them from the empty doorway. "It's a useful trick for a dog like you to have, you know?"
He came out again, carrying a power pistol, which he brought with him back to the table. He sat down, resting the thick, dark barrel of the pistol on the edge of the unvarnished tabletop, so that the large thumb-sized hole in its muzzle pointed directly at Hal. "Now, this is how we do it," he said. "I say lap, and you bend your head down and start lapping with your tongue from the saucer until it's all gone. Ready? Now, lap!"