Teckla (8 page)

"I don't care if you suggested the killing or not. I want to know what it was about Franz that you told Herth. Tell me quickly, without thinking about it. If I get the idea that you're lying, I'll kill you." His mouth worked for a bit, and his voice, when he spoke, was a squeak.

"I don't know. I just—" he stopped long enough to clear his throat. "I just told him about them. All of them. I said what they were doing."

"Herth wanted to know names?"

"Not at first. But a few weeks ago he told me to give him reports on all of the Easterners—their names, what they did, everything."

"You had all that?"

He nodded.

Tasked, "Why?"

"I've been here for most of the year. Herth heard rumors about this group and sent me to check on them. I've been keeping track."

"I see. And then he tells you to give him the names, and two weeks later Franz is killed."

He nodded.

I said, "Well, why did he want someone killed, and why Franz?" He said, "I don't know."

"Guess."

"They were troublemakers. They interfered with business. They were always around, you know? And they were giving reading lessons. When Easterners—" He stopped, looking at me.

"Goon."

He swallowed. "When Easterners get too smart, well, I guess it doesn't help business any. But it might have been something that happened before I came. Herth is careful, you know? He wouldn't tell me more than he had to."

"And Franz?"

"He was just one of them."

"What about Kelly?"

"What about him? He never did much that I could see." I refrained from commenting on his eyesight.

"Boss."

"Yeah, Loiosh?"

"Your hour is about gone."

"Thanks."

I said, "Okay. You get to live."

He seemed relieved. I turned, walked out the door and down to the street and made my way through some alleys as quickly as I could. There was no sign of pursuit.

"Well, what do you think, Loiosh?"

"He wanted to kill one of them, and Franz was as good a choice as any."

"Yeah. I think so, too. Why did he want to kill one of them?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what now?"

"Boss, do you have an idea how much trouble you've gotten yourself into?"

"Yeah."

"I was just wondering. I don't know what to do now, boss. We're close to the Easterners' area, if there's anything you want there." I started heading that way as I thought about it. What was the next step?

I had to find out if Herth was going to keep after them now, or if he had accomplished whatever it was he hoped to accomplish. If Herth wasn't going to do anything to these people, I could relax and only worry about how I was going to keep him from killing me.

The street I was on dead-ended unexpectedly, so I backtracked a ways until I found one I knew. Tall, windowless houses loomed over me like gloating green and yellow giants, with balconies sometimes almost meeting above me, cutting off my view of the orange-red sky.

Then, at a cross street named Twovine, the houses became older, paler, and smaller and the street widened and I was in the Easterners' section. It smelled like the countryside, with hay and cows and manure where they were selling cow's milk on the street. The breeze became sharper with the widening of the avenue, in swirls that kicked dust up in my eyes and stung my face.

The street curved and twisted and others joined it and left it, and then I saw Sheryl and Paresh standing on a street corner, holding that same damned tabloid and accosting passers-by. I walked up to them. Paresh nodded coolly and turned his back to me. Sheryl's smile was a little friendlier, but she also turned away when two young Easterners came by, holding hands. I heard her saying something about breaking the Imperium, but they just shook their heads and walked on.

I said, "Am I off limits?"

Sheryl shook her head. Paresh turned and said, "Not at all. Do you want to buy a copy?"

I said I didn't. He didn't seem surprised. He turned away again. I stood there for a few more seconds before realizing that I was making a fool of myself by standing, and I'd look stupid leaving. I addressed Sheryl.

"Will you talk to me if I buy you a cup of klava?"

"I can't," she said. "Since Franz was murdered we don't work alone." I bit my tongue when a few remarks about "working" came to mind, then got an idea.

"Well, Loiosh?"

"Oh, sure boss. Why not?"

I said to Sheryl, "Loiosh can stick around." She looked startled and glanced at Paresh. Paresh looked at Loiosh for a moment, then said, "Why not?"

So Loiosh hung around and got his revolutionary indoctrination while I led Sheryl into an Easterner klava hole located right across the street. It was long, narrow, darker than I like except when I want to kill someone; everything was of wood in surprisingly good condition, considering. I led us all the way to the far end and put my back to the wall. That isn't really a useful way of protecting yourself, but on that occasion it made me feel better.

I had promised to buy her a cup of klava, but actually it came in a glass. I burned my hand on the side when I first picked it up, then, setting it down, slopped some onto the table and burned my leg. I put cream in to cool it down, which didn't help much because they warmed the cream. Tasted good though.

Sheryls eyes were wide and bright blue, with just a hint of freckles around them. I said, "You know what I'm doing?"

"Not exactly," she said. There was the hint of a smile about her lips. It suddenly occurred to me that she might think I was making a pass at her. Then it occurred to me that maybe I wanted to. She was certainly attractive, and had a bit of the innocent wanton about her that I found stimulating. But no, not now.

I said, "I'm trying to find out why Franz was killed, and then I'm going to do whatever I have to to make sure that Cawti isn't." The almost-smile didn't waver, but she shook her head. "Franz was killed because they're scared of us."

There were a lot of snappy answers that I didn't make. Instead I said,

"Who is scared?"

"The Imperium."

"He wasn't killed by the Imperium."

"Perhaps not directly, but—"

"He was killed by a Jhereg named Herth. Herth doesn't kill people for the Imperium. He's too busy trying to keep the Imperium from finding out that he kills people."

"It may look like that—"

"All right, all right. This isn't helping." She shrugged, and by now the smile was gone. On the other hand, she wasn't looking angry, so it was worth continuing. I said, "What was he doing, in particular, that would threaten a Jhereg trying to make money, in particular?"

She was quiet for a while, and at last said, "I don't know. He sold papers, just as I was doing, and he spoke at meetings, just as I do, and he gave lessons on reading, and on revolution, just as I do—"

"Wait. You also give reading lessons?"

"We all do."

"I see. All right."

"I guess what it was is that he did more of everything. He was tireless, and enthusiastic, and everyone responded to that—both we, and people we'd run across. When we'd travel through the neighborhoods, he always remembered people better than the rest of us, and they always remembered him. When he spoke, he was better. When he gave reading lessons, it was Jike it was vital to him that everyone learned to read. Whenever some group that I was in was doing something, he was always there, and whenever some group that I wasn't in was doing something, he was always there, too. Do you see what I mean?"

I nodded and didn't say anything. The waiter came and poured more klava. I added cream and honey and used the napkin to hold the glass. Glass. Why not a cup? Stupid Easterners; can't do anything right. I said, "Do you know any of the Jhereg who operate around here?" She shook her head. "I know there are some, but I wouldn't recognize them. There are a good number of Dragaerans, and a lot of them are Jhereg, but I couldn't tell you that guy works for the organization,' or something."

"Do you know what kind of things they have going on?"

"No, not really."

"Are there places to gamble?"

"Huh? Oh, sure. But they're run by Easterners."

"No, they're not."

"How do you know?"

"I know Herth."

"Oh."

"Are there prostitutes?"

"Yes."

"Brothels?"

"Yes."

"Pimps?"

She suddenly looked, perhaps, the least bit smug. "Not any more," she said.

"Ah ha."

"What?"

"What happened to them?"

"We drove them off. They're the most vicious—"

"I know pimps. How did you drive them off?"

"Most of the pimps around here were really young kids."

"Yes. The older ones run brothels."

"They were part of the gangs."

"Gangs?"

"Yes. Around here there isn't much of anything for kids to do, so—"

"How old kids?"

"Oh, you know, eleven to sixteen."

"Okay."

"So they formed gangs, just to have something to do. And they'd wander around and make trouble, break up stores, that kind of thing. Your Phoenix Guards couldn't care less about what they do, as long as they stay in our area."

"They aren't my Phoenix Guards."

"Whatever. There have been gangs around here for longer than I've been alive. A lot of them get involved in pimping because it's about the only way to make money when you don't have any money to start with. They also terrorize a lot of the small shopkeepers into paying them, and steal a little, but there just isn't that much to steal and no one to sell it to."

I suddenly thought about Noish-pa, but no, they wouldn't mess around with a witch. I said, "Okay, so some of them got into pimping."

"Yes."

"How did you get rid of them?"

"Kelly says that most of the kids in the gangs are in because they don't have any hope of things being better for them. He says that their only real hope is revolution, so—"

"Fine," I said. "How did you get rid of them?"

"We broke up most of the gangs."

"How?"

"We taught them to read, for one thing. Once you can read it's harder to remain ignorant. And when they saw we were serious about destroying the despots, many of them joined us."

"Just like that?"

For the first time she glared at me. "It's taken us ten years of work to get this far, and we still have a long way to go. Ten years. It wasn't

'just like that.' And not all of them stayed in the movement, either. But, so far, most of the gangs are gone and haven't come back."

"And when the gangs broke up, the pimps left?"

"They needed the gangs to back them up."

"This all fits."

She asked, "Why?"

I said, "The pimps worked for Herth."

"How do you know that?"

"I know Herth."

"Oh."

"Have you been involved for ten years?"

She nodded.

"How did you—"

She shook her head. We sipped our klava for a while. Then she sighed and said, "I got involved when I was looking for something to do after my pimp was run out of the neighborhood."

I said, "Oh."

"Couldn't you tell I used to be a whore?" She was looking hard at me, and trying to make her voice sound tough and streetwise.

I shook my head and answered the thought behind the words. "It's different among Dragaerans. Prostitution isn't thought of as something to be ashamed of."

She stared at me, but I couldn't tell if she was showing disbelief or contempt. I realized that if I kept this up, I'd start to question the Dragaeran attitude too, and I didn't need any more things to question. I cleared my throat. "When did the pimps leave?"

"We've been chasing them out gradually over the last few years. We haven't seen any around this neighborhood for months."

"Ah ha."

"You said that already."

"Things are starting to make sense."

"You think that was why Franz was murdered?"

"All the pimps gave some portion of their income to Herth. That's how these things work."

"I see."

"Was Franz involved in breaking up the gangs?"

"He was involved in everything."

"Was he especially involved in that?"

"He was involved in everything."

"I see."

I drank some more klava. Now I could hold the glass, but the klava was cold. Stupid Easterners. The waiter came over, replaced the glass, filled it.

I said, "Herth is going to try to put the pimps back in business."

"You think so?"

"Yes. He'll think that he's warned you now, so you should know better."

"We'll drive them out again. They are agents of repression."

"Agents of repression?"

"Yes."

"Okay. If you drive them out again, he'll get even nastier." I saw something flicker behind her eyes, but her voice didn't change.

"We'll fight him," she said. I guess she saw some look on my face at that, because she started looking angry again. "Do you think we don't know how to fight? What do you think was involved in breaking up the gangs in the first place? Polite conversation? Do you think they just let us? Those at the top had power and lived well. They didn't just take it, you know. We can fight. We win when we fight. As Kelly says, that's because all the real fighters are on our side."

That sounded like Kelly. I was quiet for a while, then, "I don't suppose you people would consider leaving the pimps alone."

"What do you think?"

"Yeah. What happened to the tags?"

"The what?"

"The girls who worked for the pimps."

"I don't know. I joined the movement, but that was a long time ago when things were just starting. I don't know about the rest of them."

"Don't they have a right to live, too?"

"We all have a right to live. We have a right to live without having to sell our bodies."

I looked at her. When I'd spoken to Paresh, I had somehow gotten past his rote answers to the person underneath. With Sheryl, I couldn't. It was frustrating.

I said, "Okay. I've found out what I wanted to, and you have some information to take back to Kelly."

She nodded. "Thanks for the klava," she said. I paid for it and we walked back out to the corner. Paresh was there, arguing loudly with a short male Easterner about something incomprehensible. Loiosh flew back to my shoulder.