Alien Eyes (24 page)

The night had gone cold and crisp, and David shivered, his hair still damp from the shower. He handed around blankets, ever the considerate host. Rose was on the porch swing, one leg hooked over the side. Haas was on the other end, and Kendra and Lisa were sprawled between them. Haas and the girls were asleep. The perfect family grouping, David thought.

Haas had deep circles under his eyes. David draped a blanket over him.

“You cold?” he asked Mel.

“Nah. But you'd better cover up the munchkin here.” Mel patted Mattie, who was curled up in his lap.

David spread a blanket over his youngest. Her hair was curly on one side, straight on the other. The wires or whatever it was they were using weren't working out. David pulled the blanket up till only the top of her head and the tip of her nose were exposed.

The wicker chair creaked as he settled in. The living-room curtains were open, the lights inside bright. David could see String and Aslanti bent over Biachi. Aslanti had brought a cot that made the S shape favored by sick Elaki. She was treating String like a particularly stupid trainee. String was cowed in a way David had never seen.

“What we need,” David said, “is coffee. Elaki coffee. With cinnamon.”

“Don't look at me.” Mel patted Mattie's back. “I'm pinned down. Kid's getting big here.”

Rose stretched her legs and settled them in David's lap.

Mel pointed a finger at her. “Let's hear it. And no exaggerating.”

Rose pushed hair off her shoulders. “They kill them,” she said flatly. “That's what's been happening to your Izicho.”

David glanced at Mel.

Rose stared out into the darkness. “They hustle them into a shop, like it's that extortion scam. But then they take them right out the back.”

“Is it the same people?” Mel asked. “I mean they're doing it all over the place. Hustling the rubes right from the EDC into the shops. Intimidating them into spending. Plus then, they push them into going to hotels these shopkeepers are connected too.”

The front screen opened and String slid slowly onto the porch. The Elaki moved to one side, poised on the edge of his fringe.

“Don't sweat it, Gumby,” Mel said. “I ain't seen the bird in a while.”

“How's the kid?” Rose asked.

“I believe he will recover,” String said. “Aslanti is to finish the clearing. I am hearing the conversation, and must comment. This crime, this pressure of Elaki from EDC. It is Elaki to Elaki the victim. Is this you impression also?”

“Looks like it,” David said. “With special treatment for Izicho.”

“They took him to three different places,” Rose said. “There was one Elaki in particular who stayed with him. Plus the dog.”

“Why'd they sick the dog on him?” Mel asked.

“The kid broke. String, did he know I was watching out for him?”

“He knew he was to be protected.”

“Um. He got scared, and split for the alley. That's my fault, I didn't expect him to freak, so I wasn't close. He made it out, but they called the damn dog on him. By the time I got there he'd been mauled. They hustled him back in one shop, then went back out through another.” She shook her head. “It's a goddamn maze back there. Anyway, I got closer, and saw them take him back through the alley again, and load him into the van.”

“I am too slow,” Haas said. He sat up and rubbed his legs. “I am supposed to drive close, but did not get there in time for this.”

Rose shrugged. “We followed them to Little Saigo. Picked them up again inside, down in the tunnels.”

David shivered. He'd grown up in the tunnels, living in the dark underground community.

“They go all the way down,” Haas said.

David leaned forward. “To the pump?”

“Yeah,” Rose said. “The sump pump. Not working, as usual, but it smelled to high heaven.”

“Then what?” Mel said.

“They were going to throw him in.”

“Throw him in what?” String asked.

“Down into the pump mechanism. Into raw sewage.”

“What is the sewage?” String cocked an eye stalk. “This is human waste?”

“Yes,” David said. “What did you do, Rose? What happened to the perps?”

Rose glanced at Haas. “They left Biachi with a couple of Elaki. The one in charge, a kind of thick, ratty-looking one—I think he wanted to hang around for the finale, but something happened. There was some kind of message that came through, and he left. That's when we went in after Biachi. I'm
sorry
, David. They had him up, and almost over. We left it as long as we could.”

“Too long,” Haas said.

Rose nodded. “Yeah.”

“You didn't call it in? You didn't ask for backup?” David gritted his teeth. “What happened to the Elaki that were left?”

“Have you ever wrestled an Elaki?” Rose said. “It's like tangling with a giant squid or something.”

David closed his eyes.

“There wasn't time to call for backup,” Rose said. “We'd stopped for that, Biachi would be soup. But I didn't kill them, David.”

“Then what?” Mel said.

“They are dead,” Haas said. “We have them pinned and trussed, but alive. Maybe hurt some.” He glanced at Rose. “But alive. And then, not alive.”

Mel looked at David. “You understanding any of this?”

“I am understanding it,” String said. “Do you know that Guardians”—he looked at Mel—“will self kill to protect integrity of organization?”

“And you just left them?” David asked.

“We had to get Biachi out,” Haas said. “This is Little Saigo, David. I do not need to tell you that police need police to get out of tunnels. Better to get out quiet.”

“I hid the bodies,” Rose said. “In case you want them.”

“In case—”

“That was thoughtful,” Mel said.

David closed his eyes. He was tired. Very tired. And he would have to go to Little Saigo now—tonight. The last place he wanted to be. He stood up and stretched, then opened the screen door to look into the living room.

Aslanti was bending over Biachi, her silhouette quivering on the wall.

“He all right?” David asked.

“He look all right?” The Elaki turned, flexed the muscles under her scales. “He will recover most well. Not as bad as look to the human. Proper medication has been administered. Now the requirement is rest. Will take him to hospital.”

David nodded. “I'll arrange for protection. You want me to get an ambulance?”

“Can use van.”

David closed the door. “String, Aslanti is ready to go back. Call Della, and arrange some kind of guard to stay—”

“The hell he will.” Rose got out of the swing roughly, jarring Haas and the girls. She went into the living room, found Aslanti, and folded her arms.

“He stays here.”

Aslanti teetered backward on her fringe. “I cannot have the responsibility.”

Rose cocked her head sideways. “Who
asked
you? He's my responsibility. He stays with me till I know he's safe.”

“Who you?”

“What's it to you?”

“
Rose
,” David said.

“Don't get in my way, David.”

He hated it when she said that.

Rose looked at Aslanti. “He's not your responsibility, he's mine. Not yours either.” She glanced at David. “Dahmi went to Bellmini under security. Dahmi's gone. I'm one person, and I have to sleep sometimes. Be a lot easier if he's right underfoot.”

Haas's voice drifted in from the porch. “No good to argue, David.”

David looked over his shoulder. String was peering into the open window. Cool night air ruffled his scales. David glanced down at Biachi. Surely it was too cold in here for an injured Elaki.

“He is recovering?” String said. “He is most quiet and still. This is good.”

Aslanti skittered sideways. “His abilities of concentration excellent for young one. Much is the discipline.” She waved a fin at String. “A pouchling of the chemaki?”

String leaned backward. “Am not chemaki active. Pouchling of pouch-sib.”

“Ah,” said Aslanti. “I myself am not chemaki active. It is difficult to arrange, in consideration of the work.”

There was a long moment of silence. Mel looked at David, raised his eyebrows, but for once kept his mouth shut.

“He will be safety first here,” String said.

Aslanti became still. “Best at hospital, for the safe side. Pouchling of pouch-sib. Must take care.”

“No,” Rose said.

David knew his face was turning red. But he would let String call it.

“I do not like this feel,” Aslanti said. “Am I the body technician only?”

Rose leaned against the wall. “How much do we owe you, sweetheart?”

David glanced at Rose and then Mel. There were times he couldn't tell them apart.

THIRTY-NINE

The lights of the homicide van pulsed in the darkness. Four
A.M.
was a down time even in Little Saigo. David chewed his lip, keeping an eye on the ready team. They had overestablished their presence, in his opinion—too much gear, protective padding, weapons in view. It would be an outrageous display in any other part of town.

David watched a mother line her children up to watch. He thought of his own daughters, tucked at last into bed under the watchful eye of Haas.

Rose was leaning against the entrance to the tunnel. She was still, except for her little finger, tapping a hard and irregular staccato against her thigh.

“Come on, Gumby, not tonight.”

Mel's voice. Loud. David turned to look.

String held a three-foot length of rope. “You must cut in half and I will make it restored. It is the trick of magic.”

“Aw, gee, and I don't got a knife.”

David noticed the children, eyes round and watchful.

“Rose. Got a knife?”

She handed him a small, razor-edged flick knife, highly illegal.

David wondered when she had quit carrying the benevolent Swiss army knife that was equipped with a gentle blade and tiny scissors. He turned sideways, trying to block the blade from the view of the children. Likely, he thought, some of them carried similar knives.

The blade snipped through the rope as easily as he could break a toothpick.

“Can't
see
,” one of the children said.

David stepped back out of the way. Someone—he couldn't see who—aimed one of the spotlights at String. The Elaki held up both ends of the rope and waved them at the children.

“This a new exercise in community relations, David?” Captain Halliday had his hands in his pockets, a quirky half smile on his face.

“Beats armed robots and SWAT snipes,” David said.

A cheer went up, and two of the smallest children clapped. String held the rope high, intact now, and though there were groans from the cynical, no one moved away.

“Please to request the bucket? Is available?”

“What you going to do, Elaki-man?”

“David?” Halliday said. “What we got here?”

David turned his back on String and walked toward Rose.

Halliday made a noise. “Should of figured, with Rose in on it. We got bodies, right?”

Rose folded her arms. “Captain.”

“Rose.” He jammed his hands deeper into his pockets. “I understand we have you to thank for keeping String's nephew alive.”

Rose shrugged.

“You have the guys that did it?”

“Elaki guys,” Rose said. “Two of them.”

“Dead, I suppose?”

“Suicides.”

The captain raised one eyebrow. “A tendency people often have when they run into you, Rose.”

“Don't take
my
word for it, Captain.”

Halliday was nodding, looking back over his shoulder. “Let's get a look.”

Rose glanced at David. “You don't need to go down with us, David. You can—”

“I'm going,” David said flatly.

Rose lifted her chin and turned her back. David crooked a finger at Mel.

String turned a bucket upside down.

“Show must go on,” Mel said. “Want we should leave him?”

David glanced at the absorbed faces of the children. “Leave him.”

The tunnel entrance was wide, clear, and empty. The floor sloped downward immediately, and the passageway narrowed, lit by tubing that ran along the ceiling.

Little Saigo. Proposed as an underground community for the elite, and abandoned when the idea didn't catch on, and the cost of blasting through solid rock sank the overly optimistic contractor. Halfway constructed, several levels deep, construction tunnels and entrances winding their way in and out of solid rock and dirt—Little Saigo became a magnet for those without choices. Rent free, no government interference, it had been something of a haven until, inevitably, the predators arrived.

There were two major forces in Little Saigo. Residents aligned with Maid Marion or the tunnel rats in a system that was intensely feudal. Both groups coexisted uneasily, territory divvied up, and each looked after their own for a price.

In the dark and desperate years after his father's disappearance, David and his mother had been allied with Maid Marion. David wondered how Marion was. She was old now, blind, but still the ultimate grandmother—strong, wise, ruthless, and enormously maternal. Police business would play her no favors. He wouldn't seek her out.

He had the impression of movement, here and there, at offshoots and junctures. No doubt they were observed from time to time, though whenever he turned to look there was no one there. David zipped his jacket. The tunnels stayed a chilly fifty-three degrees, like caves. David wondered if Rose was cold. Her arms were bare and muscular, the summer tan beginning to fade.

She turned sharply, veering left into a wormhole—one of the access tunnels left by the construction workers. David clenched his teeth. As a child, he had moved in and out of the tunnels like a small rat. It hadn't been the narrow corridors and small spaces that scared him then—just the possibility of what he might find, or be found by.