Part 29 (2/2)
”What's going to happen?” Grillo said, looking back at Tesla.
”Fletcher is leaving.”
”Why? Where?”
”Nowhere and everywhere,” Tesla said.
”How do you know?”
”Because I told her,” came Fletcher's response. ”Quiddity must be preserved.”
He looked at Grillo and the faintest murmur of a smile was on his face.
”Take my son, gentlemen,” he said. ”Keep him out of the line of fire.”
”What?”
”Just go, Grillo,” Tesla said. ”Whatever happens from here on it's the way he wants it to be.”
They took Howie out through the window as instructed, Hotchkiss stepping ahead to receive the boy's body, which was as limp as a fresh cadaver. As Grillo relinquished the boy's weight he heard Tesla speak behind him.
She simply said: ”The Jaff!”
The other escapee, Fletcher's enemy, was standing at the perimeter of the parking lot. The crowd, which had swelled to five or six times its earlier size, had parted, without being overtly requested to do so, leaving a corridor between the enemies. The Jaff had not come alone. Behind him were two Californian perfects Grillo could not name. Hotchkiss could.
”Jo-Beth and Tommy-Ray,” he said.
At the name of one, or both, Howie raised his head.
”Where?” he murmured, but his eyes found them before there was time for a reply. ”Let me go,” he said, struggling to push Hotchkiss off. ”They'll kill her if we don't stop them. Don't you see, they'll kill her.”
”There's more than your girlfriend at stake,” Tesla said, leaving Grillo once again wondering how she'd got to know so much so quickly. Her source, Fletcher, now stepped out of the market, and walked past them all-Tesla, Grillo, Howie and Hotchkiss-to stand at the other end of the human corridor to the Jaff.
It was the Jaff who spoke first: ”What is all this about?” he demanded. ”Your antics have woken half the town.”
”The half you haven't poisoned,” Fletcher returned.
”Now don't talk yourself into the grave. Beg a little. Tell me you'll give your b.a.l.l.s if I let you live.”
”That was never much to me.”
”Your b.a.l.l.s?”
”Living.”
”You had ambition,” the Jaff said, starting to walk towards Fletcher very slowly. ”Don't deny it.”
”Not like yours.”
”True. I had scope.”
”You must not have the Art.”
The Jaff raised his hand and rubbed thumb and forefinger together, as though preparing to count money.
”Too late. I feel it in my fingers already,” he said.
”All right,” Fletcher replied. ”If you want me to beg, I'll beg. Quiddity must be preserved. I beg you not to touch it.”
”You don't get it, do you?” the Jaff said. He had come to a halt some distance from Fletcher. Now the youth came, bringing his sister.
”My flesh,” the Jaff said, indicating his children, ”will do anything for me. Isn't that right, Tommy-Ray?”
The boy grinned.
”Anything.”
Intent on the exchange between the two men, Tesla had not noticed Howie slipping free of Hotchkiss until he turned to her and whispered: ”Gun.”
She'd brought the weapon out of the market with her. Reluctantly she pa.s.sed it into Howie's wounded hand.
”He's going to kill her,” Howie murmured.
”That's his daughter,” Tesla whispered in reply.
”You think he cares?”
Looking back, she saw the boy's point. Whatever changes Fletcher's Great Work (the Nuncio, he'd called it) had wrought in the Jaff they'd taken the man over the brink of sanity. Though she'd had all too short a time drinking down the visions Fletcher had shared with her, and had only a tenuous grasp of the complexities of the Art, Quiddity, Cosm and Metacosm, she knew enough to be sure that such power in this ent.i.ty's hands would be power for immeasurable evil.
”You lost, Fletcher,” the Jaff said. ”You and your child don't have what it takes to be...modern.” He smiled. ”These two, on the other hand, are at the cutting edge. Everything is experiment. Right?”
Tommy-Ray had his hand on Jo-Beth's shoulder; now it moved down to her breast. Somebody in the crowd began to speak out at this, but was hushed as the Jaff looked in their direction. Jo-Beth pulled away from her brother, but Tommy-Ray was not about to relinquish her. He pulled her back towards him, inclining his head towards hers.
A shot stopped the kiss, the bullet plowing the asphalt at Tommy-Ray's feet.
”Let go of her,” Howie said. His voice was not strong, but it carried.
Tommy-Ray did as he was instructed, looking at Howie with mild puzzlement on his face. He slid his knife from his back pocket. The imminence of bloodshed was not lost on the crowd. Some backed away, especially those with children. Most stayed.
Behind Fletcher, Grillo leaned over and whispered to Hotchkiss.
”Could you take him out from here?”
”The kid?”
”No. The Jaff.”
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