“I’ll show you.”
“I never learned how to do kitchen stuff,” Caro said as she made way for Gredel in the kitchen. “Till I came here, we always had servants. I had servantshere, but I called the last one a cow and threw her out.”
“What’s a cow?” Gredel asked.
“They’re ugly and fat and stupid. Like Berthe when I fired her.”
Gredel found coffee in a cupboard and began preparing the coffee maker. “Do youeat cows, or what?” she asked.
“Yeah, they give meat. And milk too.”
“We have vashes for that. And zieges. And swine and bison, but they only give meat.”
Gredel made coffee for them both. Caro’s coffee cups were paper thin and delicate, with a platinum ring around the inside and a design of three red crescents. Caro took her cup into the bathroom with her, and after a while Gredel heard the shower. She sipped her coffee as she wandered around the apartment—the rooms were nice, but notthat nice. Lamey had places just as good, though not in such an exclusive building as this. There was a view of the Iola River two streets away, but it wasn’t that nice a view; there were buildings in the way, and the window glass was dirty.
Then, because she couldn’t stand the mess any longer, Gredel began to pick up the scattered clothes and fold them. She finished that and was putting the dirty dishes in the washer when Caro appeared, dressed casually in soft wool pantaloons, a high-necked blouse, and a little vest with gold buttons and lots of pockets slashed one on top of the other. Caro looked around in surprise.
“You cleaned up!”
“A little.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t have anything else to do.” Gredel came into the front room. She looked down at one of the piles of clothing, put her hand down on the soft pile of a sweater she had just folded and placed neatly on the back of a sofa. “You have some nice things,” she said.
“That’s from Yormak cattle. They have wonderful wool.” She eyed Gredel’s clothing. “What you’re wearing, that’s—that’s all right.”
“Lamey bought it for me.”
Caro laughed. “Might have known a man picked that.”
What’s wrong with it?Gredel wanted to ask. It was what everyone was wearing, only top quality. These weren’t clothes hijacked at Maranic Port, they were bought in astore.
Caro took Gredel’s arm. “Let’s get some breakfast,” she said, “and then I’ll take you shopping.”
The doorman stared comically as Caro and Gredel stepped out of the elevator. Caro introduced Gredel as her twin sister Margaux from Earth, and Gredel greeted the doorman in her Earth accent. The doorman bowed deeply as they swept out.
An hour later in the restaurant, Gredel was surprised when Caro asked her to pay for their meal. “My allowance comes first of the month,” she said. “And this month’s money supply isgone. This cafe won’t run a tab for me.”
“Weren’t we going shopping?”
Caro grinned. “Clothes I can buy on credit.”
They went to one of the arcades where exclusive shops sheltered under a long series of graceful arches of polymerous resin, the arches translucent but grown in different colors, so that the vaulted ceiling of each glowed with subtle tones that merged and flowed and blended. Caro introduced Gredel as her sister, and laughed when Gredel used her Earth accent. Gredel was called Lady Margaux and surrounded by swarms of clerks and floorwalkers, and she was both surprised and flattered by the attention. This is what it was like to be a Peer.
If she’d been merely Gredel, the staff would have been there all right, but following her around to make sure she didn’t steal.
The arcades didn’t serve just Terrans, so there were Torminel there, and Naxids, and some pleasure-loving Cree who wandered through the shops burbling in their musical voices. It was unusual for Gredel to see so many nonhumans in one place, since she rarely had any reason to leave the Terran parts of the Fabs. But the Peers, Gredel concluded, were almost a species of their own. They had more in common with each other than they had with other folk.
Caro bought an outfit for herself and two for Gredel, first a luxurious gown with a cape so long it dragged on the floor, and next a pajamalike lounging outfit. Gredel had no idea where she would ever wear such things. Caro nodded at the lounging suit. “Made of worm spit,” she said.
“Sorry?” Gredel said, startled.
“Worm spit. They call it ‘silk.’ ”
Gredel had heard of silk—she’d read about it in her researches on Earth history—and she touched the fabric with a new respect. “Do you think it came from Earth?” she asked.
“I doubt it.” Dismissively. “Earth’s a hole. My mother was there on government service, and she told me.”
Caro bought everything on credit. Gredel noticed that she signed onlySula, leaving out her first name and the honorificLady. She seemed to carry a tab at every store in the arcade. When Gredel thanked her for the presents, Caro said, “You can pay me back by buying dinner.”
“I don’t think I can afford that,” Gredel said doubtfully.
Caro laughed. “Guess we better learn to eat worm spit,” she said.
Gredel was intrigued by the way everyone lined up to give Caro credit. “They know I’m good for it,” Caro explained. “They know I’ll have the money eventually.”
“When?”
“When I’m twenty-three. That’s when the funds mature.” She laughed again. “But those people still won’t get paid. I’ll be off the planet by then, in the Fleet, and they can chase me through space if they like.”
Gredel was intrigued by this too. There tended to be serious consequences in the Fabs for people who didn’t pay their debts. Maybe this too was different for Peers.
“So is this money your parents left you?” Gredel asked.
Caro looked dubious. “I’m not sure. My parents were caught in some kind of scheme to swindle government suppliers out of a lot of money, and they lost everything—estates, money”—she tapped her neck significantly—“everything. I got sent to live with Jacob Biswas in Blue Lakes.” This was an exclusive area outside of Maranic Town. “The Biswas clan were clients of the Sulas, and Dad got Biswas the job of assistant port administrator here. I’m not sure if the money is something Dad got to him, or whether it came from my dad’s clients or friends, but it’s in a bank on Spannan’s ring, and the interest comes to me here every month.”
Caro went on to explain that her family was forbidden to be in the Civil Service for three generations, both as punishment for what her parents had done and to minimize the chance to steal. But as a Peer, she had an automatic ticket to one of the Fleet academies, and so it had been planned for her to go there.
“I don’t know,” she went on, shaking her head. “I can’t see myself in the Fleet. Taking orders, wearing uniforms…under all that discipline. I think I’d go crazy in ten days.”
The Fleet, Gredel thought. The Fleet could carry you away from Spannan, through the wormhole gates to the brilliant worlds beyond. Zanshaa, Esley, Earth…The vision was dazzling. For that, she could put up with uniforms. “I’d do it in a second,” she said.
Caro gave her a look. “Why?”
Gredel thought she may as well emphasize the practical advantages. “You get food and a place to sleep. Medical and dental care. And theypay you for it.”
Caro gave a disdainful snort. “Youdo it, then.”
“They wouldn’t let me in. My mother has a criminal record.”
The Fleet had their pick of recruits: there were plenty of people who wanted those three free meals per day. They checked the background of everyone who applied.
Unless, Gredel thought, someone she knew could pull strings. A Peer, say.
They took a taxi back to Caro’s building, but when the driver approached it, Caro ducked into the backseat, pulled a bewildered Gredel down atop her and shouted at him to keep going.
“What’s the matter?” Gredel asked.
“A collector. Someone come to get money from me. The doorman usually chases them off, but this one’s really persistent.”
Apparently, living on credit wasn’t as convenient as Caro let on.
The driver let them off at a loading dock in the alley behind the building. Caro’s codes opened the door.
There were little motorized carts in the entryway, for use when people moved furniture or other heavy belongings.
They took the freight elevator to Caro’s floor and looked for something to eat. There wasn’t much, just biscuits and an old piece of cheese. “Have you got food at your place?” Caro asked.
Gredel hesitated. “Yes,” she said, “but we’ve got Antony too.”
“And who’s that?”
Gredel told her.
“He comes near me,” Caro said with a disgusted look, “I’ll kick him in the balls.”
“That wouldn’t stop him for long,” Gredel said, and shivered. “He’d still slap your face off.”
“We’ll see.” Caro’s lip curled again.
“I’m serious. You don’t want to get Antony mad. I bet even Lamey’s boys would have a hard time with him.”
Caro shook her head. “This is crazy,” she laughed. “You know anyone who could buy us some food?”
“Well. There’s Lamey.”
“He’s your boyfriend, right? The tall one?”
“He carried you up here last night.”
“So Ialready owe him.” Caro laughed. “Will he mind if I mooch dinner off him? I’ll pay him back, first of the month.”
Gredel called Lamey on her phone. He was amused by their dilemma and said he’d be there soon.
Gredel made coffee while they waited, and served it in the paper-thin cups.
“So tell me about Lamey,” Caro said.
Gredel told her about Lamey’s business. “He’s linked, you know? He knows people, and he moves stuff around. From the port, from other places. Makes it available to people at good prices. When people can’t get loans, he loans them money.”
“Aren’t the clans’ patrons supposed to do that?”
“Sometimes they will. But, you know, those mid-level clans, they’re in a lot of businesses themselves, or their friends and allies are. So they’re not going to loan money for someone to go into competition with them. And once the new businesses start, they have to be protected you know, against the people who are already in that business, so Lamey and his people do that too.”
“It’s the Peers who are supposed to protect people,” Caro said.
“Caro,” Gredel said, “you’re the first Peer I’ve ever seen outside of a video. Peers don’t come to places like the Fabs.”
Caro gave a cynical grin. “So Lamey just doesgood things, right? He’s never hurt anybody, he just helps people.”
Gredel hesitated. They were entering an area she tried not to think about. She thought about the boy Moseley, the dreadful dull squelching thud as Lamey’s boot went into him. The way her
