The Lord of Opium(121)
“That was a trick worthy of the old man,” Dr. Rivas said. “Too bad it didn’t work. Your hand is going to stay in perfect condition until we’ve had the use of it.”
The soldiers pulled Matt to his feet and shoved him out the door. He wondered how long he could endure pain. He’d heard about things Glass Eye had done to his enemies. Unlike El Patrón, the African drug lord didn’t dispose of them quickly. Terror was the way he kept power.
“I’ll die before I betray Opium,” he said.
“Oh, you won’t be the one to suffer,” Dr. Rivas said, nodding at Listen as they hurried across the garden. “She will be.”
48
EL PATRÓN’S ADVICE
You’re in a fine mess, aren’t you? said El Patrón.
Stop gloating and help us, thought Matt.
Why should I? I’ve already told you what you need to know, the old man said peevishly. Matt imagined him sitting under a grape arbor, watching the statues of his seven brothers and sisters.
Tell me again. If I don’t survive, your ninth life is over. Matt knew there was no use appealing to El Patrón’s better nature. He didn’t have one. But only silence followed this appeal to self-interest. The old man had gone back to whatever entertainments the dead had.
They passed a stirabout and a heap of ruined animal skins. They hurried through the halls of the hospital. Samson carried Listen, who was trying to shred his arms with her fingernails. He bore it stoically.
There was chaos in Glass Eye Dabengwa’s room. Bottles had been overturned, a lamp lay shattered, a nurse knelt at the drug lord’s feet, holding her arm and sobbing. Soldiers were ranged against the wall in postures of defense. Glass Eye himself was swaying like a heavyweight boxer about to land a crushing blow.
“I’ll kill him,” he snarled. “I’ll kill him.” No one dared to answer. Either Happy Man really had run off, or he was pushing up daisies in the forest. “You! Boy! Open the border. I will have more men now!”
Matt flinched. The yellow eyes swiveled toward him, their lids shrunken and dry from lack of use. He swallowed. His throat closed up. “No,” he managed to croak.
“YOU DO NOT SAY NO TO ME!” roared the drug lord.
Matt swallowed. He heard the click, whirr of Dabengwa’s eyes, the creak of his neck, the tiny groans of various parts of the man’s anatomy as he moved. Dear God, was any part of him still human?
“You leave my friend alone!” came a sharp little voice directly under Glass Eye’s nose. “If you’re not careful, I’ll put you into my freezer.”
Dabengwa looked down as though he could scarcely believe what he was seeing.
“If you don’t know what that means, I’ll tell you,” said Listen. “I won’t see you and I won’t hear you. You’ll be a big old lump of ice to me.”
“Listen, please come away,” begged Matt.
She looked directly into the drug lord’s yellow eyes and tapped her foot impatiently. It was like watching a bantam rooster challenge a rottweiler. Utterly courageous and crazy. The rottweiler always won.
“Let me tell you about your original,” rumbled Glass Eye, momentarily distracted. “She was a girl from a small village. I sent for her and she defied me, so I killed her brothers and sisters. She ran away, and I killed her parents. Then she came, hanging her head and apologizing, but she was never obedient. Always she ran, and I had a tracking device injected under her skin. The last time, I broke her neck.”
Listen wavered a little, but she stood her ground. “That was dee-diddly-dumb. You remind me of the Bug. He’s always breaking things, and then he doesn’t have them anymore.”
“The Bug?” said Dabengwa.
“Another clone of El Patrón,” Dr. Rivas explained quickly. “She used to play with him.”
“Dead, I suppose,” said the drug lord.
The doctor nodded, but Listen said, “He’s not dead. He’s running around, opening doors and all sorts of secret places.”
“That’s a lie!” the doctor cried.
“Nope. Dr. Rivas had him open the holoport. Then he took him to other places full of jewels and gold and everything. Ask him to show you.”
“She’s raving, mi patrón. She makes up stories.”
Glass Eye signaled, and a couple of the soldiers restrained the doctor. “This is very interesting, child. Tell me more.”
The little girl took a deep breath. “See, the big people don’t pay attention to me. They don’t think I can understand, but I’m not called Listen for nothing. I heard Dr. Rivas and his son and daughter talk about a room at the bottom of the solar telescope. It’s where El Patrón kept his money. Boy, did they get excited! Dr. Angel and Dr. Marcos loaded a hovercraft and took off for the Scorpion Star, but they didn’t get more than a tiny bit of the stuff.” She smiled winningly, an adorable child trying to please.