Glen Cook - Cruel Zinc Melodies

Gilbey turned his glower on Singe. ‘‘You’ve come a long way in a short time.’’

Singe proved it by refusing to be intimidated. She bowed her head slightly to hide her embarrassment. ‘‘Mr. Garrett has been very supportive.’’

‘‘He has that reputation. Why don’t we put the financials aside? Garrett, tell us what you’ve done at the World. Have you handled the problems we wanted resolved?’’

‘‘Things are almost wrapped.’’

Max gave me the fish-eye. Gilbey seemed equally dubious.

I said, ‘‘What I’m going to tell you is unvarnished truth. The way it’s been told to me. You don’t have to believe it but you do have to keep it quiet.’’ Portentous enough? ‘‘As general knowledge it could lead to a huge disaster.’’ I plunged into the story.

I’ve been involved with the brewery so long that Max dismisses nothing, however absurd it might seem at first blush. ‘‘A dragon.’’ An exhalation, not a question.

‘‘I report only what my experts are telling me. Two from high on the Hill. I don’t necessarily buy it myself. You could interrogate Vilchik. He did the library research.’’

‘‘Vilchik?’’

‘‘Alyx’s tame playwright. Calls himself Jon Salvation. His real name is Pilsuds Vilchik. Known on the street as the Remora. My partner had him help do research. Between them Vilchik and Barate Algarda found four historical events that looked a lot like ours. So-called dragon awakenings. All long ago and far away. Fine details weren’t available. My partner doesn’t admit any personal knowledge but he’s been around long enough to have heard about these things when they happened. I have reservations based on the fact that in none of the reports is there a mention of anyone actually seeing a dragon. The roll-up of the Cantard silver supposedly resulted from one of those events.’’

Gilbey demanded, ‘‘What do we do?’’

‘‘The best advice I’ve gotten so far is, leave it the hell alone. If we stop poking it, it might fall asleep again. Cold makes it sleepy. I’m letting all the cold air get to it that I can. But I’ve got a little something else going, too. In case my advisers have been talking out the wrong orifice.’’

Ensued a prolonged question, answer, challenge, and brainstorming session, the sum of which was that the costs of the World were mounting. The theater had begun to look like a questionable investment.

Max and Manvil suggested running ice water down under. I told them, ‘‘You have to get the water there. An uphill haul. Then you’ll flood everything under the neighborhood. Which wouldn’t win you any friends.’’

Gilbey asked, ‘‘Where do dwarves stand on the question of dragons?’’

Manvil Gilbey could do two things at once. He reviewed Singe’s expenses ledger while participating in the give and take. He used a company writing stick to tick items for discussion.

I said, ‘‘One more thing, then. Maybe the most important, businesswise.’’

Max looked like he didn’t want to hear any more. ‘‘That would be?’’

‘‘Your designers didn’t take into account the fact that human beings expected to consume mass quantities of Weider beer will need somewhere to set it free.’’

Max started to say something, stopped as the implication hit. ‘‘Really?’’

‘‘Really. How many people will you push through there?’’

‘‘Damn!’’ Gilbey said. ‘‘Two thousand on a good day. Why didn’t anybody think of that?’’ He was asking himself, not me.

Max muttered, ‘‘Nobody else is worried about it. Why should we?’’

Gilbey examined the elevations. He ran fingers over them like he might discover some secret not obvious to the naked eye. ‘‘It’s true, Max. And it’s our fault. There isn’t a hint in the specs. But plenty to help beer sales go easier.’’

Max groused, ‘‘Must be because us divine types never have to piss. Take a lesson, Garrett. You’re never so old or so smart that you can’t fuck up.’’

Here came the rain of crap for everything that happened at the World.

I was wrong.

Max and Manvil bickered briefly, like an old married couple. I envied them. I have some solid friends but none that tight, excepting maybe Eleanor.

I couldn’t take the tension. ‘‘When are you gonna jump in my shit?’’

Max managed baffled perfectly but Gilbey twitched and betrayed a fleeting smirk. Max asked, ‘‘There some reason we ought to come down on your ass? Like maybe for dicking around so long getting the job done?’’

‘‘Yeah. That,’’ I lied.

‘‘I do have to admit, I’ve heard some complaints. I took into account who was whining and said, ‘Good on Garrett!’’’ Max smirked. Gilbey likewise, again.

I got it. They were having fun. I was their proxy on the street, their beard-tugger, now that they were supposed to be too old and responsible. Now that they could afford to indulge in big amusements.

Max’s gaze focused on Tinnie, clang! like a bear trap snapping. ‘‘What are you going to do?’’ His tone said more than his words. If she wanted to run with the wolves, she’d better be ready to snap and bite with them. If not, he’d take it up with one of her uncles.

‘‘I’ll keep it in the family. Same as you would.’’

Max glanced my way. That flicker of attention told me I’d just volunteered to guarantee my woman’s work.

I said, ‘‘I have one more thing about the World.’’

‘‘What else did we forget?’’

I’d held on to Kip’s papers to this point. I pushed them down to Max. ‘‘It’s about lighting. You’ll need lots of lighting. The usual methods are dangerous, messy, and unpleasant, especially for the people in the high seats. Kip Prose sent you some ideas. His way to make amends for the trouble his bunch caused.’’

Max eyed me narrowly. He smelled me trying to help the kid miss out on a well-deserved head-thumping. ‘‘Get with Manvil on that.’’

‘‘Manvil will need to get with Kip. I’m reporting an opportunity.’’

Gilbey said, ‘‘Manvil needs to have a sit-down with several people before this project goes any further. So right now Manvil is going to go pry Heather loose from her hobby and put her to work.’’ He gave me a dark look. ‘‘I do wonder if we weren’t better off with vandalism, ghosts, giant bugs, and ignorance.’’

Gilbey left. An attendant came in to feed the fire. Job done, he left. I told Max, ‘‘So. While I’m complicating your life, here’s one more thing. Your fireplace guy spends his free time at the Al-Khar.’’

‘‘Really?’’

‘‘Saw him there myself.’’ We discussed my visit with Block, Relway, the prince, me being observed by a parade of worker bees. Max wasn’t surprised or angry. Relway spying doesn’t surprise anyone anymore.

Gilbey came back with Heather. Soames had her business face on but was in a bright mood. She tossed a smile my way. I responded with a sign against the evil eye. She took it in good stead. Tinnie was there, after all. ‘‘I don’t know what happened. I went crazy with that hat pin. I just wanted to make it stop.’’ She forgot me, joined Gilbey, who had taken Kip’s drawings and suggestions from Max.

Heather said, ‘‘There are all kinds of void spaces under that part of the city. The construction people had trouble setting foundations. Why not evacuate toilet waste into that space?’’

I told her, ‘‘The stench. It would come up into the theater. And the neighbors would object when it leaked into their undergrounds. Plus, the entity down below might consider it disrespectful.’’

Heather grunted, turned away, slipped an arm around Gilbey’s waist.

Masses of human waste are a problem wherever they occur. But the World was uphill from the river. ‘‘Hey, Max. You think we could make money with a sewage disposal company?’’