Reede could hear other voices clearly now. He gestured Ananke aside, climbed up onto the pile of boxes so that he could see in through the spot rubbed clear on the heavy, grime-coated glass of a small, high window. There was a party going on inside; and he knew without looking closer what kind of party it was. He watched a moment longer anyway, tensely searching for a familiar face, a shock of milk-white hair…. There.
He leaped down, facing Ananke again. “That’s all you’ve got?” he said, nodding at the dagger.
Ananke grimaced. “Sorry, boss, I—”
“Shut up. Take this.” Reede pulled his own knife, and handed it over. “Don’t kill anybody, for gods’ sakes—at least not by accident. Is the door locked?”
“I don’t know.”
Reede grunted, pushing past him. The door was locked. He input an override sequence and shoved it open, ignoring its programmed alarm. They ran down a short corridor; met someone coming to check out the bleating door as they reached the end. Reede hit him in the face with the stunner’s weighted butt, and he went down without a protest.
Reede stepped over him and entered the space beyond, with Ananke following. The perimeter of the warehouse was crowded with piled crates and equipment; the bleak, open space at its center had been covered with cargo mats. There was a crate topped with a variety of cheap drugs, and a crowd of maybe a dozen people, most of them offworlders, most of them men, tough-looking, laborers and brands, probably. Elco Teel stood at one side, with three other young Winters from his crowd, two girls and a boy. Reede watched them watching, pointing, tittering; his own eyes leaped to the object of their attention.
Ariele Dawntreader stood in the center of the room, on the waiting mats, surrounded by a restless cluster of men. The one strap of her long, rainbow-shaded tunic was off her shoulder, the tunic halfway down to her waist. The total stranger she was kissing, deeply and thoroughly, was fondling her breasts, as someone else moved in on her from behind, pulling the tunic farther down her half-naked body. Whistles and catcalls echoed from the hard, pitiless surfaces of the room.
Ananke swore, starting forward. Reede pushed him back again, out of the way; raised the stunner and took aim. He fired. The offworlder in the process of dropping his pants behind Ariele clutched his groin with a yelp of disbelief. He collapsed on the floor, in a sudden puddle of his own urine, as he lost control of his body functions.
“Ariele!”
Heads turned all around the room, away from the spectacle in front of them, toward him. The offworlder who was fondling Ariele let her go, pushing her away roughly as she tried to cling to him. She stumbled free, turned unsteadily to stare at Reede along with everyone else. Her eyes were glassy and uncomprehending. She looked down at herself, up at his face, away again, with a peculiar quirk of her head.
Reede came on into the room, brandishing the gun. No one moved, all of them caught somewhere between chagrin and disbelief. “Ananke,” he said, and pointed toward Elco Teel, “cover the little perverts, over there. Don’t let them go anywhere.” He watched Ananke move forward, holding the two knives in plain sight, to stand guard in front of them. “Now,” he said, to the mob of sullen, silent men who still surrounded Ariele.
One of them took a step toward him. He raised the gun and the man backed up again. But he read the speculation in their eyes as they began to realize how outnumbered he was. Ananke looked his way, uneasy.
“I’m calling the Blues,” Reede said, certain that he had everyone’s attention, “and reporting this gang bang. Maybe you cocksuckers want to hang around and see how much fun you can have with the Queen’s daughter before they get here… or maybe you want to see how far away you can get instead.” He touched his remote with his free hand, putting in a callcode.
The offworlders began to move, one by one—toward the door this time. He kept the gun trained on them as they passed, their steps quickening as panic began to set in. They were out of the building inside of half a minute, dragging along the piss-stinking one he’d crippled. The door slammed shut behind them. He was sure they wouldn’t be back.
He moved slowly across the room to the spot where Ariele stood, her face still dazed and unfathomable as she tried to pull her clothing back into place. She stopped trying as she saw him come toward her, and held out her arms. “Reede …” she whispered
Reede stuck the stunner through his belt and pushed her hands aside. He caught the strap of her tunic, keeping his eyes on her face as he pulled the soft, shining cloth up over her breasts, sliding the strap back onto her shoulder with gentle, noncommittal motions. She put her arms around him, pulling him against her. “Stop it,” he said, and shook her off. “Stay there.” He started back across the room to the place where Elco Teel stood; realizing, annoyed, that Arieie was following him. Reede studied Elco Teel’s pouting, frightened face, his pouting, frightened companions.
“Did you really call the Blues?” Ananke murmured, staring at him.
Reede laughed. “No,” he said; saw Ananke relax, and the young Winters start to relax with him. His own body stiffened as Ariele came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him again, sliding her fingers into the seal of his shirt. He pulled her hand free irritably. One of the Winter girls gave a high, nervous giggle, watching Ariele’s hands crawl over his body as if they had a life of their own.
“You think it’s funny?” Ananke said, suddenly. Reede looked at him, surprised by the hard bitterness of his voice. “You really think laughing at her makes you safe? Makes you one of them—?” He jerked his head at Elco Teel and the other boy. “The next time it might be your turn, sister—”
The girl glared at him, sidling closer to Elco Teel, taking hold of his arm.
Reede stepped forward, catching the expensive, diaphanous shimmercloth of her tunic at its collar. He ripped it open to her waist with a sudden, brutal motion. “And next time they might not bother to put you in the mood, first, sweeting—”
The girl cried out, shrinking away from his touch as she pulled her torn clothes together. Elco Teel’s face tightened, but he made no move to stop it, to help her. The other Winters gaped, wide-eyed.
Reede turned his back on them, pushing Ariele away, maddeningly aware that he was starting to get an erection. He swung back to face Elco Teel; held his hand out to Ananke. Ananke passed him his blade silently, uneasily. Reede raised the knife until its tip was touching Elco Teel’s throat. “I didn’t call the Blues, because they might object to what I have in mind for you, little man,” Reede said softly.
Elco Teel went white, his whole body seeming to shrivel back from the knife’s point.
“This was no accident, was it, Elco Teel?” Reede murmured, tracing an infinity sign along the quivering length of Elco Teel’s neck. Even Ariele was silent and still now, waiting and listening; no longer touching him, although a part of him was still aware only of her, the feel of her, the smell of her— He wrenched his attention back. “Your old man put you up to this, and the Source put him up to it, am I right?”
“I don’t know,” Elco gibbered. “Yes—maybe— Da gave me the drug! He said I could get back at her, at you, because you took her away from me—”
Reede’s hand jerked downward in a sudden, slashing movement, and Elco Teel screamed in pain.
Reede stepped back, inspecting his work. Elco Teel swayed on his feet, making a mewling whine as he stared down at the hanging ruins of his expensive clothes; at the thin, precise line of the wound running from his throat to his navel, the spreading ribbon of red oozing out of it as he watched.