“I don’t believe I got your name,” Casimir said.
She looked into the half-lidded eyes. “Gredel,” she said.
He turned, took a step away, then swung back and with an abrupt motion thrust out the identity cards.
“Take these,” he said. “I’m not going to have them off someone I don’t know. I could be killed for having them in my office.”
Sula made certain her fingers weren’t trembling before she took the cards. “You’ll need them sooner or later,” she said, “the way things are going under the Naxids.”
She could see that he didn’t like hearing that either. He walked to the far side of his desk and stood there with his head down, his long fingers tidying papers. “There’s nothing I can do about the Naxids,” he said.
“You can kill them,” she replied, “before they kill you.”
He kept his eyes on his papers, but a smile touched his lips. “There are a lot more Naxids than there are of me.”
“Start at the top and work your way down,” Sula advised. “Sooner or later you’ll reach equilibrium.”
The smile still played about his lips. “You’re quite the provocateur, aren’t you?” he said.
“It’s fifty for primary ID. Two hundred for the special pass to the High City.”
He looked up at her in surprise. “Twohundred?”
“Most people won’t need it. But the ones who’ll need it will really need it.”
His lips gave a sardonic twist. “Who would want to go to the High City now?”
“People who want to work for Naxids. Or steal from Naxids. Or kill Naxids.” She smiled. “Actually, that last category gets the cards free.”
He turned his head to hide a grin. “You’re a pistol, aren’t you?”
Sula said nothing. Casimir stood for a moment in thought, then suddenly threw himself into his chair in a whoof of deflating cushions and surprised hydraulics, then he put his feet on the desk, one gleaming boot crossed over the other.
“Can I see you again?” he said.
“To do what? Talk business? We can talk businessnow .”
“Business, certainly,” he said with an nod. “But I was thinking we could mainly entertain ourselves.”
“Do you still think I’m a provocateur?”
He grinned and shook his head. “The police under the Naxids don’t have to bother with evidence anymore. Provocateurs are looking for work like everyone else.”
“Yes,” Sula said.
He blinked. “Yes what?”
“Yes. You can see me.”
His grin broadened. He had even teeth, brilliantly white. Sula thought his dentist was to be congratulated.
“I’ll give you my comm code. Set your display to receive.”
They activated their sleeve displays, and Sula broadcast her electronic address. It was one she’d created strictly for this meeting, along with another of what were proving to be a dizzying series of false identities.
“See you then.” She walked toward the door, then stopped. “By the way,” she said. “I’m also in the delivery business. If you need something moved from one place to another, let me know.” She permitted herself a smile. “We have very good documents,” she said. “We can move things wherever you need them.”
She left then, before glee got the better of her.
Outside, in the facing light, she spotted Macnamara loitering across the street and raised a hand to scratch her neck, the signal that all had gone well.
Even so, she used evasion procedures to make certain she wasn’t followed home.
Casimir called after midnight. Sula groped her way from her bed to where she’d hung her blouse and told the sleeve to answer.
The chameleon fabric showed him with a slapdash grin pasted to his face. There was blaring music in the background and the sound of laughter.
“Hey Gredel!” he said. “Come have some fun!”
Sula swiped sleep from her eyes. “I’m asleep. Call me tomorrow.”
“Wake up! It’s still early!”
“I work for a living! Call me tomorrow!”
As she told the sleeve to end her transmission and made her way back to the bed, she reflected that she’d done a good job setting the hook.
FIFTEEN
Sula had some morning deliveries on the High City and thought she might as well collect some club gossip from PJ while she was on the acropolis. Having some idea of his indolent habits, she waited till the sun was high in Zanshaa’s viridian sky before she called him on a public terminal. Since she trusted his intentions but not his intelligence, she’d made certain that he had no way to contact her, nothing he could betray to the enemy—he would have to wait forher to initiate contact.
“Yes?” he mumbled as he answered. His eyes were blurry, his thinning hair awry—either she’d awakened him or he was just out of bed.
“Hi, PJ!” she called brightly. “How’s the lad this morning?”
Recognizing her voice, his eyes came into sudden bright focus as he stared at her image on the comm display. “Oh!” he said. “Oh! Things are, ah, excellent. Just excellent.”
If he’d saidfirst-rate instead ofexcellent, that would have meant the Naxids had nabbed him and she should ignore everything he said, particularly any attempt to set up a meeting.
“I say,” PJ said, “Lady—I mean, miss—there’s someone I need you to meet. Right away.”
“Half an hour from now?”
“Yes! Yes!” He made a strange, thoughtful face, pulling at his jaw. “If you’ll come by the palace, we’ll go to his…place of business.”
“Be cautious about, ah…”About my being the secret government.