“And Antoinette?” Clavain asked.
“She’ll be fine, too. A few cuts and bruises, nothing too serious. She’ll be along shortly.”
Clavain sat down in the vacant yellow chair, opposite Scorpio. “I don’t pretend to understand why Xavier and Antoinette are here. But you . . .”
“It’s a long story,” Scorpio said.
“I’m not going anywhere. Why not start at the beginning? Shouldn’t you be in custody?”
H said, “Matters have become complicated, Mr. Clavain. I gather the Conjoiners brought Scorpio to the inner system with the intention of handing him over to the authorities.”
Xavier looked at the pig, doing a double take. “I thought H was joking when he called you Scorpio before. But he wasn’t, was he? Holy fuck. You are him, the one they’ve been trying to catch all this time. Holy fuck!”
“Your reputation precedes you,” H said to the pig.
“What the fuck were you doing in Carousel New Copenhagen?” Xavier asked, easing back into his seat. He appeared disturbed to be in the same building as Scorpio, let alone the same room.
“I was coming after him,” Scorpio said, nodding at Clavain.
Now it was Clavain’s turn to blink. “Me?”
“They gave me a deal, the spiders. Said they’d let me go, wouldn’t turn me over, if I helped them track you down after you gave them the slip. I wasn’t going to say no, was I?”
H said, “They provided Scorpio with credible documentation, enough that he would not be arrested on sight. I believe they were sincere in their promise that he would be allowed to go free if he assisted in bringing you back into the fold.”
“But I still don’t . . .”
“Scorpio and his associate—another Conjoiner—followed your trail, Mr. Clavain. Naturally it took them to Antoinette Bax. That was how Xavier became involved in the whole unfortunate business. There was a struggle, and some damage was done to the carousel. The Convention already had an eye on Antoinette, so it did not take them long to reach her ship. The injuries that were sustained, including Scorpio’s, all took place when the Convention proxy entered Storm Bird.”
Clavain frowned. “But that doesn’t explain how they come to be . . . oh, wait. You were shadowing them, weren’t you?”
H nodded with what Clavain thought was a trace of pride. “I expected the Conjoiners to send someone after you. For my own curiosity I was determined to bring them here, too, so that I might determine what part they played in this whole curious affair. My ships were waiting around Copenhagen, looking for anything untoward—and especially anything untoward concerning Antoinette Bax. I am only sorry that we did not intervene sooner, or a little less blood might have been shed.”
Clavain turned around at the sound of metronomic ticking, coming nearer. It was a woman wearing stiletto heels. An enormous black cloak fanned behind her, as if she walked in her own private gale. He recognised her.
“Ah, Zebra,” H said, smiling.
Zebra strode up to him and then wrapped her arms around him. They kissed, more like lovers than friends.
“Are you certain that you don’t need some rest?” H asked. “Two busy jobs in one day . . .”
“I’m fine, and so are the Talkative Twins.”
“Did you—um—make arrangements concerning the Convention employee?”
“We dealt with him, yes. Do you want to see him?”
“I imagine it might amuse my guests. Why not?” H shrugged, as if all that was being debated was whether to have afternoon tea now rather than later.
“I’ll fetch him,” Zebra said. She turned around and clicked into the distance.
Another pair of footsteps approached. Clavain corrected himself. It was really two pairs of footsteps, but which fell in near-perfect synchrony. It was the two huge mouthless men wheeling a chair between the settees. Antoinette was sitting in the chair, looking tired but alive. She had many bandages on her hands and forearms.
“Clavain . . .” she started to say.
“I’m fine,” he said. “And pleased to hear that you’re well. I’m sorry to learn that there was trouble on my account. I sincerely hoped that when I left, that would be the last of it for you.”
“Life’s just never that simple, is it?” Antoinette said.
“I suppose not. But I’m sorry all the same. If I can make amends, I will.”
Antoinette looked at Xavier. “You’re OK? She said you were, but I didn’t know if I should believe her.”
“I’m fine,” Xavier told her. “Right as rain.”
But neither of them had the energy to get out of their chairs, it seemed.
“I didn’t think I’d manage it,” Antoinette said. “I was trying to get your heart started, but I didn’t have the strength. I could feel myself slipping into unconsciousness, so I gave it one last try. I guess it worked.”
“Actually, it didn’t,” H said. “You passed out. You’d done your best, but you’d lost a lot of blood yourself.”
“Then who . . . ?”
H nodded at Scorpio. “Our friend the pig saved Xavier. Didn’t you?”
The pig grunted. “It wasn’t anything.”
Antoinette said, “Maybe not to you, Mr. Pink. But it made a hell of a difference to Xavier. I suppose I should say thank you.”
“Don’t cut yourself up over it. I’ll live without your gratitude.”
“I’ll still say it. Thanks.”
Scorpio looked at her and then grunted something unintelligible before looking away.
“What about the ship?” Clavain said, breaking the awkward silence that followed. “Is the ship OK?”
Antoinette looked at H. “I guess it isn’t, right?”
“Actually, she’s fine. As soon as Xavier was conscious, Zebra asked him to instruct Storm Bird to fly on automatic pilot to some coordinates we provided. We have secure holding facilities in the Rust Belt, vital for some of our other operations. The ship is intact and out of harm’s way. You have my word on that, Antoinette.”
“When can I see it again?”
“Soon,” H said. “But exactly how soon I am not willing to say.”
“Am I a prisoner, then?” Antoinette asked.