Benny's face lit up, and I realize that Carmine must actually be a relative. And well-liked. I hoped that would help my cause.
We spent a few minutes talking about my requirements.
“It’s an odd size, and oddly specific,” he said.
“I'm trying to protect my existing box,” I explained. “My grandfather died a long way from our family home. I have to bring him back there, and I can't afford the obvious methods.”
“I admire your dedication, youngster. I can produce to such an item. It will take about three days, and would cost six irons. However, I can't guarantee that it will be watertight. That simply isn't normally part of my requirements.”
Well, between the room, the backpack, and the box, I’d be wiped out. And I would still have to pay for passage. And I didn't have any choice about going by boat. While the Manny would probably survive the seven-segment swim, I very much doubted that Bender would arrive still dry. Like it or not, I was going to have to play tourist. Or deckhand. But had no choice in the end.
We talked some more, and I considered trying to haggle and down, but the simple lack of waterproofing rendered it moot. In the end. I thanked him for his time and told him I'd think about it.
I was heading back to the backpack store when I received an alert from the spider in my room. Someone seemed to be trying to unlock the door, and they were being increasingly unsubtle about it. The fleas had rigged the lock well enough that the interlopers would have to break down the door to get in. Would they go that far? Would anyone notice or investigate? It wasn't a high-class neighborhood, but the proprietor might object to costly damage in a room that would be on rentable for a while.
And the would-be home invaders agreed. After a few more rattles the sounds of assault stopped. I had no illusions that that was the end of it. It appeared none of my plans for the day were going to succeed. I changed direction and picked up speed, not quite breaking into a run. As I moved, I stretched my features and changed my fur patterns back into Natasha's face. That might get me in the door without being observed.
The door to my room was still intact, although the lock and knob was a little more scarred than I remembered. No one appear to be hanging around. I didn’t kid myself though - there would be surveillance. Whether they were looking for Bob, or Natasha, or both, was an unknown. Whether it was Crew, Resistance, or both, was pretty much irrelevant at this point. My fate at the hands of either party - and more important, Bender's fate - was a foregone conclusion.
I glanced at the window speculatively as I was climbing up to my pack. No such luck. What had originally seemed like a security feature was now a trap. There was only one way out of this room. But not necessarily so for the building. They’d be watching the front and back doors, but maybe there was a third alternative. I collected my spider and fleas, then locked and re-jammed the door. The scam probably wouldn't distract my pursuers for long, but every little bit helped. Meanwhile, I needed to be out of here.
I headed for one of the two second-floor bathrooms for some privacy, and a chance to think. How to get out undetected? I can just go downstairs and peek out the front door without attracting attention. I had accepted it as a given that someone was watching the front. Probably the back as well - there were only the two doors. From the bathroom window I could see the alley where one of the pub staff was tossing something into the dumpster. I snorted. Dumpsters. Another parallel. Wait. What other parallels were there? Food deliveries... garbage pickup. Even a dump like this needed services supplied by other companies.
I took a quick glance out into the hallway. No one. I made my way to the back of the building where presumably the kitchen and storage areas would be. On the way, I passed a cleaning person of the cart. The cart included a garbage can of sorts, made of wood. No trash bags here. The cleaner was working on one of the rooms so I grabbed the can off the cart. As I continued down, I placed my backpack in the can, then hoisted it up so the contents weren't visible.
I got a glance or two as I passed through the service area, but who's going to question someone who's obviously working? Chances were, the hired help around here was transient and part-time anyway. I made it out to the back, holding the can up so it obscured my face, and making a show of struggling with the weight.
The dumpster was up against the fence, something I'd noticed from the bathroom. What wasn't discernible was whether the fence would collapse the moment I put my weight on it. But it didn't matter - I was committed. I swung the can around, still projecting ‘this is really heavy, y’all’ with every pore, and upended it onto the edge of the dumpster. As I tipped it, I grabbed the backpack before it could drop into the bin. I pulled the can back with one hand, put it upside down on the ground as quietly and quickly as possible, and used it to vault over the fence.
There was a shout behind me and I could hear running feet, but I was already on the other side and out of sight. I perhaps two seconds to get out of view of someone coming over the fence. A quick glance said that west was the shorter sprint to cover. I went east.
As I turned into another alley, I heard the thump of someone landing.
