Part 14 (1/2)
”Drop the guns!” the EIA or EIA look-a-likes shouted. ”You're not doing anything until we see proper identification and clearance papers.”
Tinker bolted through the door.
Behind her, Durrack didn't seem to notice she had fled. ”This is code black!”
Nor had the EIA. ”I don't give diddly what color it is. This is Elfhome!”
After thoroughly losing herself, she slid through a door and discovered she was at a dead end in an empty patient room. She could hear booted feet echoing through the halls, rapidly approaching her, cutting off other possible exits.
Hiding looked like her only course. Other than the bed, nightstand, and guest chair, the only piece of furniture was a large wardrobe. She opened the door and found that the bottom was taken up with drawers. What kind of wardrobe was this? The upper part was one tall shelf, about the size of a dress s.h.i.+rt. Oh well! She scrambled up onto the shelf and closed the door with her fingernails.
The pounding of her heart covered all sound until someone entered the room in long booted strides. The footsteps continued straight to the wardrobe. The door opened, and Derek Maynard studied her. Hovering over his shoulder was a locate spell.
”There are times I hate magic,” Tinker sulked, remaining tucked on the top shelf.
”You are a hard girl to keep pinned down.” Maynard motioned her out.
”Unfortunately, not hard enough.” She reluctantly unfolded and swung down off the shelf.
Maynard reached into his pocket and produced a bright yellow rectangle. ”Gum?”
”I've been told not to take candy from strangers.”
He raised one eyebrow, as if saying ”Get real” or ”How wise” or something truly witty. Tinker supposed that was one of the benefits of keeping one's mouth shut-people made up better dialogue for you than you yourself could imagine. Then again, the trick would never work for her; she couldn't stay quiet. She scowled at him and took the offered piece.
The gum filled her mouth with sweetness, and ran counter to her banging heart.
”Juicy Fruit,” She identified the brand. ”They say that elves love this stuff.”
”Juicy Fruit and peanut b.u.t.ter.” Maynard unwrapped a piece for himself. ”I have always wondered if it's a cultural thing or something more genetically based. G.o.ds know there are human cultures that have weirder tastes.”
She shrugged, not knowing or caring. Why were they standing there trading inane remarks? If Maynard had tracked her down, did it mean that he was going to turn her over to the NSA and correct all their misconceptions? Maynard had been studying her while making what seemed to be a deliberate show of chewing the gum. He reached out now to rub the triangular mark between her eyebrows.
”Where did this come from?”
”Windwolf.” She jerked her head away. It occurred to her that if any human knew what it was, Maynard would. ”What does it mean?”
”The elves run a rigid caste system, but sometimes a high-ranked elf can elevate a lower-rank elf. He marks them with a dau dau.” Maynard tapped her forehead again. ”And they become part of his caste, with all rights and privileges.”
”Why'd Windwolf do it to me?”
”Why didn't you ask him at the time?”
”I didn't notice the mark until after he left. I haven't seen him since.”
”Ah,” Maynard murmured, and nothing more.
He had been dealing with elves too long. Maynard was nearly as obscure as they were. It seemed as if they would spend all day simply chewing gum.
”So, are you going to turn me over to the NSA?”
”Can't,” Maynard said.
”Can't? Won't? Shan't?”
”By the rules of the treaty, no elf of any caste can be moved to Earth by any human agency for any reason.”
”Rights and privileges?”
Maynard nodded.
Well, the day was suddenly looking up, but it seemed too good to be true. Tinker tested her luck. ”I don't think the NSA will see it that way.”
”I don't give a f.u.c.k,” Maynard said. ”Lord Windwolf will not allow it, and that's all I care about. I'm walking a delicate line with the elves. I'm not going to p.i.s.s the viceroy off to make two gun-happy American agents' jobs easy.”
”What the h.e.l.l is a viceroy?”
”You, girl, need a lesson in politics.”
6: A Date Which Will Live in Infamy
A viceroy turned out to be a very high position in the elfin government. The word viceroy viceroy was a weird smash-together of the words was a weird smash-together of the words vice vice and and royal royal, kind of like vice president, but with the idea that the president was somewhere else. In Windwolf's case, it was the queen of the elves, who lived in an area that corresponded with Europe. Windwolf apparently was the youngest elf ever appointed to be a viceroy, but Tinker got the impression it was by default. Windwolf had researched human explorations of the Americas and then led the first elfin landing in the Westernlands once he reached majority. As a colony, it hadn't rated a viceroy, but with Pittsburgh's arrival and the sudden boom in trade, Windwolf had been elevated solely because he was the princ.i.p.al landowner.
This made him a target both inside and outside his clan. Elders in his clan thought someone older with less radical ideas should replace him. The other clans were split-half wanted control of the trade with the humans and the rest wanted to break off contact totally. The queen, though, favored Windwolf, so he remained viceroy.
All things considered, girl genius or not, Windwolf was depressingly out of reach for a human teenager that ran a sc.r.a.p yard.
Maynard tried to explain the elfin politics to Tinker while escorting her out to his limo. He was hampered by the fact that her grandfather had taught her nothing about human government and very little world geography. (No use cluttering up one's mind with things that change, as he'd put it. What she did know came from Lain, who believed in a rounded education: insects specialize, not humans. insects specialize, not humans.) ”It's in humans' best interest that Windwolf stay viceroy,” Maynard finished. ”He's an intelligent, honorable being with an open mind. It's also in our best interest to stay on his good side. Letting two minor human agents kidnap his newest family member would surely infuriate him.”
”Family member?” Tinker squeaked.
”I'm keeping things simple,” Maynard said cryptically. ”The elfin guard at the border saw a member of Windwolf's family with two humans, and the humans claimed that person-you-as their prisoner. That's a basic violation of the treaty-I'll have to finesse things to calm the waters. If Windwolf doesn't know about this already, he will shortly. Luckily the border guard called the EIA to help extract you safely.”
”You mean I did all that running around for no reason?”
Maynard slanted a look in her direction. ”It did keep the NSA from learning the truth about your ident.i.ty and the whereabouts of Alexander Graham Bell. And it delayed their attempts to remove you from the hospice until I had a chance to arrive. It wasn't a waste of time.”
”Where are they now?” Tinker glanced out of the limo's back window at the hospice.
”They've been arrested for violating the treaty. If they're lucky, they won't be summarily executed.”
”You're joking.”
”I'm not,” Maynard said. ”The NSA has committed a serious breach of protocol out of ignorance. They're making it worse by refusing to discuss why. Did they explain anything to you?”
She considered him. He currently was the only thing standing between her and the NSA, but that was for Windwolf's sake, not hers. She was only important because of Windwolf. She hedged. ”I told you my father was murdered. The NSA think I could be in danger from the same people.”