The Starter (6 page)

“Their last name was Barnes.”

Frederico entered that. “First names?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean
you don’t know
? They were your parents.”

“I was really little,” Quentin said. “They were just Mom and Dad to me.”

“What happened to them?”

“I don’t know. They disappeared when I was two, maybe three. I’m not sure.”

“So, probably seventeen years ago? About 2666?”

“Yeah,” Quentin said. “How’d you know that?”

Quentin felt an elbow hit his left arm. “‘Cause he’s
good
,” John said. “That’s why.”

Frederico shook his head and reached under his desk. “I
am
good, John, but this one was easy.” Frederico tossed a paper magazine on the desktop. Quentin turned it so he could read the cover — KRAKENS INSIDER: KRAKENS VS. WALLCRAWLERS.

“Game program,” Frederico said. “Has your age right in there.”

John’s eyes widened in stunned admiration. “That’s
amazing
. See, Q? I
told
you this guy was good.”

Frederico laughed to himself and entered more info. “How about sisters, Quentin? Brothers?”

“Just one brother. They hung him when I was five.”

The detective shook his head and made a
tsk-tsk
sound with his mouth. “Right. Let me guess. A really
awful
crime, like... stealing food?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

Quentin felt the elbow hit his left arm again. He turned to see John, nodding slightly, eyebrows raised.
I TOLD YOU THIS GUY WAS GOOD
scrolled across his head.

“You’re not my first Nationalite client,” Frederico said. “You’d be surprised how unoriginal your story is. They hang people for all kinds of things. They save burning at the stake for heretics, though. Heretics, and what else, Quentin?”

Quentin felt his face flush red.

“Come on,” Frederico said. “Who else do they burn at the stake?”

“Homosexuals,” Quentin said.

Frederico nodded. “You ever see someone burned at the stake?”

Quentin nodded slowly. He had seen that. Many times.

“So have I,” the detective said. He shook his head quickly, like he was chasing away an annoying memory. “Right, and your brother’s name?”

“Quincy,” Quentin said. “I think. I called him...”

Quentin’s voice trailed off.

Frederico stopped entering data and looked at him. “I need all the info I can get, Quentin. A nickname is just as valuable to me as the real thing. What did you call him?”

John sat patiently, also waiting. Quentin knew he wouldn’t hear the end of this.

“Fine,” Quentin said. “I remember calling him
Kin-Kin
, ‘cause I couldn’t pronounce Quincy.”

Frederico nodded and tapped icons. Quentin tried not to look at Tweedy, but he couldn’t help himself. He turned to see John staring at him with a stone-straight face, the words
WE’LL FIND KIN-KIN, DIDDUMS
scrolling across his forehead.

Quentin sighed and turned his attention back to the detective.

“What else?” Frederico said. “Aunts? Uncles? Who took care of you after High One smote your brother for the horribly sacrilegious crime of murdering bread?”

“I was an orphan,” Quentin said. “I was on my own. Should I tell you about the orphanage system?”

“No,” Frederico said. “I know quite a lot about that subject, unfortunately. Let’s talk money — I charge ten thousand a week, plus expenses. If you don’t pay within a day of getting the bill, I drop the case and don’t come back no matter what you do. Understand?”

Quentin nodded.

“Good,” Frederico said. “Now, listen carefully. Just because I’ve handled cases like this before doesn’t mean I want you to get your hopes up. I’ll be honest with you. Odds are that your parents died in a pogrom, that they were incinerated in a mass grave and there was no record keeping of their death. They’re just
gone
, and you’ll never know different. If they did get out of the Purist Nation, they probably changed their name, abandoned their religion and assumed you were dead. Or more likely, they knew that if they contacted you, an enemy of theirs still in the Nation might find you and kill you to avenge some debt of family honor. The odds of just finding out
what happened
to your parents are about one in a million. The odds of actually finding
them
? Let’s just say you can’t find a bookie anywhere in the galaxy that would take that bet.”

Quentin stared at the pink-suited man for a second, weighing the words carefully before speaking. “So what you’re saying is that I’m wasting my money. Wasting ten grand a week, on you. Why should I do that?”

“Ten grand plus expenses,” Frederico said. “Don’t forget that important little
caveat
. You should hire me because if your parents can be found, I’m the guy to find them. Quietly. I’m assuming you’re here because you don’t want Gredok the Splithead to know about your family?”

John sat forward quickly, beer sloshing out of his mag-can. “Unbelievable! Is this guy good, or is this guy
good
?”

Quentin smacked Tweedy in the shoulder. “Give it a rest, John. It’s obvious that I don’t want Gredok to know.”

“Yeah,” John said. “
Sure
it’s obvious, now that Fred has gone and said it out loud. I didn’t see you figuring that one out before.”

“I said it on the way here!”

John nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah... yeah, you’re right. It’s like Fred knew what we were talking about, like he’s
psychic
.”

“I
am
psychic,” Frederico said. He put his fingers to his temples and stared at John. “Right now you’re thinking...
this guy is really good
.”

John stood up so fast the chair shot out from under him. He pointed a finger at the detective. “You knock that off, Fred, okay? That’s just way too freakish. No disrespect to you, man, but I’m—”

“Outta here?” Frederico said.

John dropped his mag-can, took a step back and held up both hands, palms out. “You stop that, Fred, you get—”

“Out of your head?”

John turned and ran out of the office.

Quentin and Frederico watched him go, then faced each other.

“John’s great,” Frederico said, “but he’s a real piece of work.”

Quentin nodded. “Tell me about it.”

“Look, Quentin, I won’t waste your money. I’m extremely talented at everything I do, this included. I’m worth twice as much, so I’m a bargain at this price. And if at any point I figure out I can’t help you, I’m done. I won’t charge you for work I can’t finish. If you come up with something else that might help me — you remember anything — you call me.”

Frederico stood and held out his hand. “Now the tough part. Can you shake a fag’s hand?”

Quentin realized that he didn’t even want to
touch
the man, just like when he’d landed on the
Touchback
and hadn’t wanted to touch Don Pine’s skin because it was blue. But Quentin had overcome so many preconditioned prejudices there was no point in stopping now.

Quentin stood, towering over Frederico. “Well, you’re the first fag I’ve met, so let’s give it a try.” He forced himself to meet the man’s stare as they shook.

“Know what, Quentin?”

“What?”

“You got really pretty eyes.”

Quentin reactively yanked his hand free.

Frederico laughed. “Class is still in session, apparently.”

“Yeah, I guess so, and I learned something today.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“That
fags
can be total jackasses, just like everybody else.”

Frederico laughed louder and applauded. “Now you’re getting it. And remember how I said that I excel at everything I do? That includes being a jackass.”

Quentin nodded, then walked into the hall to find John Tweedy wearing an empty beerdoleer and standing amidst a pile of three empty mag-cans.

“Q! Are you okay? Did he get inside your head?”

“I’m fine. Just calm down. How about we go get you a beer?”

The big linebacker nodded. “Yeah. Yeah that’s a good idea. I’m a little freaked out. That guy is
good
, man.”

“We can only hope,” Quentin said. “How about the Bootleg Arms?”

John nodded. The two Krakens left the building and headed for the Bootleg Arms, the club owned by Gredok the Splithead.

Transcript from the “Galaxy’s Greatest Sports Show with Dan, Akbar, & Tarat the Smasher”

DAN:
Hello fans! I’m Dan Gianni back once again to give you the greatest show in sports. As always, I’m joined by Akbar Smith and Hall-of-Fame linebacker, Tarat the Smasher.

AKBAR:
Thanks, Dan.

TARAT:
Always happy to be here.

DAN:
So guys, we’ve got a full show today, with just two topics. Why? Because those two topics are so big, so juicy, so tasty, we’re going to be inundated with calls.

AKBAR:
So I take it we’re talking about the Tier Two expansion?

TARAT:
I’m so excited I could just molt.

DAN:
Tarat, seriously, please don’t. But absolutely, Tier Two expansion! It’s so exciting.

AKBAR:
It’s not tradition.

DAN:
Tradition? What do you mean,
tradition
?

TARAT:
Tradition means the way things have always been done, Dan.

DAN:
I know what tradition means, Smasher. What I’m saying is,
what
tradition?

AKBAR:
There are six Tier Two conferences, Dan. Six, not
eight
.

DAN:
Well,
now
there are eight. How can you not be excited about the Whitok Kingdom being brought into the galactic fold with the Whitok Conference? And they’re adding a
second
Human conference? It’s brilliant.

AKBAR:
What the hell do you mean,
brilliant
?

TARAT:
Brilliant
means that it’s inspired, highly intelligent.

AKBAR:
I know what
brilliant
means, Smasher. I’m saying you can’t just go adding leagues like that. And come on, Dan, saying that adding a Whitok conference is bringing the Kingdom
into the galactic fold
? Isn’t that a little much?

DAN:
Where the heck have you been for the past twenty years, Akbar? This is a major,
major
deal, not just for sports but for politics as well. The Whitok Kingdom isn’t controlled by the Creterakians. This is a major sign that the Kingdom has finally recovered from their losses in the Fourth Galactic War,
and
it marks the first normalization of relations with the Creterakians since the bats ceased hostilities in 2642. Here we are forty-one standard years later, and Whitok football teams will be part of the GFL. This means the galaxy is finally accepting
peace
, Akbar.

AKBAR:
Accepting? Tell that to those lunatics from the Zoroastrian Guild. They are crazy with a capital-Z, but I agree with them on one point — being ruled by the bats isn’t my definition of
peace
; it’s my definition of
subjugation
.

TARAT:
The Quyth Concordia isn’t subjugated. We live free.

AKBAR:
The Quyth Concordia lives free! The Quyth Concordia lives free!
Every five minutes with that crap, Smasher. We know, okay? Trust me, we know. And besides, all the Whitok cities are underwater, so tell me how that’s going to work for a game played on a field.

DAN:
Akbar, now you’re just being a pain. What about the Pacifica Dolphins? Their stadium is in the middle of an ocean on Earth. Or how about the Isis Ice Storm? Their stadium is something like a mile underwater. All the GFL requires is a playing field where oxygen-breathing players can operate in standard gravity and standard air pressure.

TARAT:
The Whitok already have teams playing in the upper tiers, Akbar. Or did you forget about the D’Kow War Dogs?

AKBAR:
Well, I suppose that’s a good point. And I guess going from a six-team T2 Tourney to an eight-team format makes for more drama.

DAN:
Absolutely. I always thought those first-round bye games were a little confusing. Now it’s a straight-up eight-team, single-elimination tournament. The last two teams standing get into Tier One. Makes you wonder if the Chillich Spider-Bears or the Ionath Krakens would have been promoted if they hadn’t had first-round byes.

TARAT:
Well, the Spider-Bears would have made it in, they were just fantastic. But the Krakens? Maybe not without that first-round bye.

DAN:
Speaking of the Ionath Krakens, that brings us to our second topic of discussion — the Tier One teams with the worst records get relegated to Tier Two. Out of the twenty-two Tier One teams that kick off in four weeks, which two are getting sent down at season’s end?

AKBAR:
Wait, you said
speaking of the Krakens
. You’re saying the Krakens are going to be relegated?

DAN:
Oh come on, there’s no question! Quentin Barnes might have been good enough to get Ionath through the T2 Tourney, but the Krak-pack lost their starting running back, Mitchell “The Machine” Fayed. Ionath has no running game, and I don’t think their defensive backs can stop
any
Tier One offense.

TARAT:
I think Quentin Barnes may surprise you, Dan. He’s a true warrior in the making.