"A bird is going to nest there." Nana pinched his lip. "You know the rule. You and Stafa can't go out unless a grown-up goes with you."
"I was just going right up there."
"Right up there is where the bad man grabbed Zouki yesterday. Remember?"
"Well, he wouldn't grab me! If he did I'd punch him in the nose! I'd punch him so hard ..."
"Arif!" Nana glared at him. Her face was starkly serious. "This isn't a game.
It isn't play. It's real. How are you going to get away from the bad men when you can't even get away from your old Nana?" She reiterated, "It's not a game, Arif. Now tell me the rules. What are you supposed to do?"
Lip out farther, Arif began reciting the litany of responses he was to make ifsomebody tried to kidnap him.
Mish rushed out of the house. "Mom, did you see Arif? He ..." She saw himsitting there. Almost instantly, her eye strayed to the Dartars up the street.
She did not hear a word Nana said. She always got deaf whenever Mom or Nanastarted yelling at her.
Azel strolled all the way around Government House twice, looking to see whowas watching, if anyone was. He did not spot anyone. If someone was around hewas good enough not to give himself away. That would be unusual for theground-level men of the Living and impossible for the Dartars, who could not- and probably would not-disguise themselves as anything but what they were.
There were jokes and parables about the Dartar inability to adapt. "Stubbornas a Dartar," was a maxim as old as Qushmarrah itself.
Azel strolled to a tradesman's entrance, knocked. A soldier opened a peekhole.
"What you want?" he demanded.
"I got to see Colonel Bruda about the cut flowers he ordered." He grinned. Theguy wouldn't know what the hell was going on, but he'd have a damned goodidea, what with all the guys coming around about flowers for the Colonel. Hecould not be unique, could he? What the hell would a Colonel do with a ton ofposies?
The Herodian bolted up behind Azel. In his own language he told his partner,
"I'm going to take this gink up to Bruda. Hold the fort."
The partner grunted. He had not bothered to look up from his lap. Too long ingarrison, Azel figured.
His guide led him through dusty, seldom-used passages. He amused himselftrying to estimate Government House's backdoor traffic from the disturbancesin the dust. He played the same game every time.
The guide turned into the long north-south hall. Azel glanced back. Nobodybehind them. Nobody up ahead. There never was, but you had to check. Youdidn't let up.
Should he do it?
Why the hell not? There wasn't a damned thing they could do. He grinned.
He got his weight behind the punch and buried it in the soldier's left kidney.
The man folded around the blow, then crumpled. Azel leaned against the walland waited. When the soldier finally began to get himself together and lookedup, there were tears in his eyes.
"Gink, eh? You gotta learn not to let your asshole overload your brain." Hesaid it in Herodian vulgate, not the formal, upper-class Herodian mostoutsiders learned.
He saw something stir behind the soldier's eyes. "Don't even think about it.
I'd tie your ears in a bowknot." He extended a helping hand. "Let's go see theMessenger of the Faith." Though most everyone, including the common Herodiansoldiers, used old-fashioned designations, among themselves the true believersused ranks that were religious.
The man let Azel help. He started off unsteadily, bent slightly, head hanging.
"I don't reckon I hit you that hard, but if you start pissing blood you bettersee your regimental doc."
The soldier said nothing. He took Azel up several floors and into a room wherea Herodian ensign, still looking forward to his first shave, jumped up andopened another door, said something to someone on the other side. Then he toldAzel, "He'll see you in a minute."
The soldier shuffled out
"What was the matter with him?"
"Made a mistake. Made an ethnic slur."
The boy did not meet his eye. Azel grinned, moved to a window, looked out atthe bay. Hell of a view of the harbor. He wondered if he'd ever go to seaagain. Not likely. That was a young man's game. A young, stupid, blind man'sgame. If you saw or figured out what you were walking into you didn't walk.
"Rose?"
Azel turned. Colonel Bruda beckoned him. Azel followed him into the other room, grinning. He was not a tall man himself but he could see the top ofBruda's shiny head. "I figured out how you guys can win every battle from hereon in."
Bruda faced him, frowning.
"You just pick a sunny day for the fight, put all your officers out front, andhave them bow to the enemy."
Bruda's frown deepened. He did not get it.
"I never seen a one of you guys that was over twenty-five that wasn't bald asa lizard's egg. You'd blind them with the reflections. Then you could just gofinish them off."
"Your sense of humor is something we don't need, Rose."
"You need some of my talents, you take them all."
"Consider the possibility that you may not be as indispensable as you'd liketo think, Rose."
Azel grinned. Bruda was as predictable as sundown. "Hell. You know, GovernorStraba said something just like that when he still thought I worked for himand not for Cado."
Bruda lost some color.
These Herodians were something. Hell on a six-legged camel in a gang, withtheir vaunted discipline and religious fervor. But catch them solo with acrack like that and they drizzled down their legs.
Of course, Bruda was the investigator of record in the hard, messy death ofGovernor Straba. Not a very good investigator, Colonel Bruda. He hadn't caughta whiff of the truth. He had no idea that Azel wasn't the killer.
Let him think whatever he wanted if it kept his knees knocking.
Azel had traced the murderer but had kept that to himself. It might be usefulsomeday.
"You'll have to wait a few minutes, Rose. He's with someone. But he knowsyou're here."