“No.” She shook her head cguin. “What the hell have you gotten into, anyway? What’re you trying to get me into?”
“I work for somebody too. somebody — up the line. Somebody who wants to know what the opposition’s doing. And there’s a man named Herne who knows it all. only he’s down on his luck. You’re going to pick him up and help him oat; and he’s going to be so grateful he’s going to tell you anything you want to know.”
“Ha! I know a Herne, a big spender, and if he’s down on his luck now he can rot. Him and some of his buddies were drug ugly, and he tried to—” The word wouldn’t come out; her hands tightened over the seal of her coveralls. “I had bruises in places I wouldn’t show my own mother before Pollux pulled him of! me and changed his mind.” She glanced past Fate’s silent witnessing at the phlegmatic metal being in the doorway. “He may be a dumb machine, but he’s a damn sight more of a man than the ones who program him.”
Sparks grinned at the borrowed vision of Herne ’s discomfiture. “He really must have been drugged out of his mind to pick on a—”
Tor’s face reddened, her fists came up. “Listen. Summer, you don’t joke about a thing like that with a Winter woman!”
His grin fell away abruptly. “By “r — by the gods, that’s not what I meant! If it’s the same Herne . you’ve got nothing to worry about. He won’t give you any trouble this time. You’ll find him near the Parallax View. I’ll pay the expenses, and make it worth your while; just make sure that he never knows why you’re doing it. Don’t ever mention me.” He lowered his voice, turning away from Fate. “If I don’t get what I want, you’ll regret it, and even Pollux won’t be enough to keep you safe.”
Tor’s pallid face turned paler; he felt a brief surprise as he realized that she believed him. “Meet me back here at the same time in — one week.”
“Yeah, sure,” she said weakly, and oozed out from behind the barricade of his body. “Come on, Pollux, let’s go.”
“Whatever you say, Tor.” He stepped down off the porch and followed her away. She hit him spitefully on the chest, went on down the alley rubbing her hand.
“Shut up, you damn junk pile; I’m going to trade you in on a dog’
Fate was sitting again, decorating the naked, gaping mask form as though it were the only reality in the universe. She did not speak to him, or look up with any of her eyes.
Sparks felt his elation implode as he saw her withdrawing from him — as though she too were setting herself apart from him; or as though he had done it for her.
“You said I’d find a way to solve the problem. And I’ve done it.”
“Yes. I suppose you have.” She picked up a piece of satin cloth.
“I thought you didn’t make moral judgments.”
“I try not to. We all choose our own paths to hell. But some of the choices are easier to watch than others… I don’t like to watch my friends being hurt.”
“I just said that. I wouldn’t hurt her.” But he knew that just for a moment he had been inches from it. And that was the moment that Fate had seen.
“ ‘Today’s word is tomorrow’s deed,’ ” she quoted softly. “And I consider you my friend, too.”
“Still?”
“Yes, still.” She looked up at him, but without smiling. “Take care. Sparks. Life isn’t woven from a single thread, you know.”
“All right.” He shrugged, not really understanding. “I’ll see you again, Fate.”
She smiled at last, but it wasn’t the smile he had been waiting for. “
“In one week, at this same time.”
“Scuse me, buddy, have you seen a guy called H-Herne?” Tor broke off as the derelict’s face looked up at her, glaring with the use less hatred of a chained animal, and she realized that she had seen it before. Gaunt and bearded, it was still the same face: a dark off worlder face, a too-handsome face with eyes that were long lashed and beautiful and as cold as death. She stood for a moment staring down, pinched between the vise-fingers of the present and the past. This was Herne, the same Herne , whose eyes looking at her once had not seen a human being but a thing.
But there was no sign of recognition when he looked up at her now, no acknowledgment of the irony of their reunion. She backed up a step from the stink of him, his filthy coveralls, remembering the richness of his clothes the last time. Maybe the drugs had gotten the last laugh on him after all… She almost smiled. There were a half-empty bottle and a dented can with a handful of coins in it sitting on the box beside him. As she came along the alley she had seen a Blue lieutenant with incongruous pink freckles give him a citation for begging. But the truculent expectation faded from his face as her question registered; he inventoried her, and Pollux with her, in a quick, expressionless glance. “Maybe I know a Herne . Can’t seem to remember.” His hand closed significantly around the can. “Why?”
She dug into a pocket, tossed her loose change into the can. “I hear he’s down on his luck. Maybe I want to change it.”
“You?” He took a swig from the bottle, wiped his hand across his mouth. “Again, why?”
“That’s between him and me.” She folded her arms, almost beginning to enjoy the game. “So where is he?”
“I’m Herne ,” grudgingly.
“You?” She echoed his incredulity; laughed, going it one better. “Prove it.”
“You bitch!”
She leaped back from the memory of his brutal strength; but he only swayed forward on the box, would have fallen off it if Pollux had not put out a rigid hand to push him upright again. Tor stood staring, still beyond his reach, while she tried to assess what she had just seen. “So that’s what he meant. You’re a cripple!”
His mouth twisted. “Who? Who sent you here?”
“Nobody important.” She shrugged awkwardly. “I’m the one that wants to see you, Herne. I’m the one you better worry about.” She leaned against Pollux, ran a hand along the cool metal of his shoulder, smiling. “What do you figure you’d do to me, if our positions were reversed…?”
Startled doubt tightened the muscles in his cheek. He studied her again, and Pollux. For a moment she thought she saw recognition; or maybe it was only the fear of recognition. How many enemies did a man like that have in a place like this… how many real friends did he have in the whole universe? Herne slouched against the wall, resigned. “Do what you want, I don’t give a fuck.” He took another drink from the bottle.
“No.” She shook her head, remembering Dawntreader and her own troubles with something nearing empathy. “Just asking. So how’s business?” She peered into the can.
“Slow.” She felt him refusing to ask her her own business; a subtle tension filled the half of his body that still responded. Patrons from the Parallax View passed them by with averted eyes.
“You’ve come a long way down, since the last time we met.”
He didn’t remember. She was certain now, not sure if she was glad or sorry. “I’ve begged before; it never killed me.”
She shifted her weight against Pollux, looked him over slowly. “I think it might, this time.”
He glanced up, down again; didn’t answer.
“I hear you really knew your way around the Maze before your-uh, accident.” She wondered what or who had done this to him. “I hear you really know which way the power flows, off world and on. Well, that’s worth something to me.”
“Why?” sharply.
“What’s it to you?” She countered, not sure what reason was going to come off her tongue that wasn’t the truth. “You ask a lot of questions for a beggar.”
“I want to know why a Winter would want to know. There’s only one Winter—” He frowned.