“He is growing in importance,” I answered delicately.
“Do you think it prudent for me to eliminate him as a concern? Especially if there may be a coming storm with Ddewn.”
I exhaled and thought about this.
“In addition to Wallow, I believe he has some support from Garm,” I cautioned.
“Bah.” Tamshius waved his hand dismissively and his pleasant brow furrowed. “People speak her name like children fearing robots. She can be killed like any other.”
This was quite a surprising sentiment. Tamshius was usually very controlled, but perhaps there had been some recent fallout between him and Garm.
“With all due respect, I have lived through four Adjuncts, a Lance Major, and for a few years, Common Rule. By far the best leader for Belvaille has been Garm. And she’s easy on the eyes.”
“Yes, I know,” Tamshius said dejectedly. “Do you know that Adjunct Overwatch Monhsendary tried to have me murdered?”
“Yes, I was there.”
“Of course,” he chuckled. “I am forgetting who I am speaking with.”
Tamshius stood up, so I did as well.
“Again, I want to thank you for your help,” Tamshius said, bowing.
“My pleasure.” I bowed back.
“If I may enquire, how much did you spend tonight at my facility?”
I sighed deeply, mostly because I didn’t want to remember it.
“10,000.”
“To the exact credit?” he asked curiously.
I checked my tele.
“To the exact credit, yes.”
This seemed to please Tamshius and he went to his desk.
“For your time and beneficial advice,” he said, and he beamed me 10,000.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, bowing again.
“Can I reserve your assistance if I should require help with the Ddewn affair?” he asked, correctly attributing the concern to the boss and not his underling despite the origins of the debt.
“I await your inquiry and will do the best I can.”
“I can ask nothing more,” he answered.
Tamshius showed me out and I walked the long hall with my free bottle of high-end booze and a spring in my step. I was back to my original total despite an excellent night of much-needed excitement.
The guards were anxious for information on what was going down, but I told them it wasn’t something I could speak about at the moment, which they took as a dark omen.
CHAPTER 6
As soon as I got out of sight of the casino, I was accosted by Rendrae. He was the owner, editor, operator, and often reporter of The News.
He was an overweight man with a greenish complexion and horrible sense of fashion. He always wore a baggy, orange plastic overcoat that had what looked like a thousand pockets, and he wore a purple hat that was reminiscent of a sad, crumpled boot planted upside-down on his head. I always wondered if he cultivated as harmless an image as possible in order to put people at ease.
He had informants in just about every corner of the station. I don’t think a cockroach farted without Rendrae knowing what it had eaten. He was annoying as hell but his articles were incredibly accurate, and people placed a lot of stock in how they were represented in the paper. I had to grudgingly give him credit for being so non-partisan. Rendrae had learned just like I had that the best way to survive was to stay impartial.
“Hank! I got you on the front page, did you see?”
I was too tired to jockey with him. But I had to walk to the train anyway.
“No, I haven’t seen it. I told you I don’t like being quoted.”
I called up the front page on my tele. He had already highlighted it for me.
Hank affirms the likelihood of an upcoming precipitous turf war is “likely” given the preponderance of goodies procured lately and the growing animosity between the legitimate businesses. When pressed about the most likely area of concern, he seemed to give special recognition to blocks 30 through 40.
I groaned. Some people were going to be mad at me for saying that.
While everyone knew Belvaille was crooked, we still pretended we weren’t. Though not very well. Consequently, The News wrote all its stories in code. “Goodies” were weapons, “legitimate businesses” were…not, etc.
“Why’d you have to say my name? Aren’t you supposed to say ‘anonymous sources’?”
He gave me a dirty look.
“If I say that, it’s just hearsay. If I put you down, it’s like a real thing. So I heard about your adventure in the warehouses today. Interesting stuff,” he said coaxingly.
The train seemed far away.
“So Hank, who has the most to lose in a fight?”
“Same as always, the people with the most to lose. Belvaille isn’t getting any bigger.”