His feet lost their purchase and he flew through the door.
—Spider sat up in bed, his chest jumping like an overheated engine. He wiped some of the sweat off his face and sat quietly for a few minutes, taking stock of himself. Perhaps he’d screamed in his sleep, but the drunks whose rooms bordered his were used to that. He waited till his heartbeat had slowed somewhat and his hands were under partial control, then rose, pulled the damp sheets off the bed, and methodically went about replacing them with the set that was waiting on the chair. He went to the bottom drawer of the bureau against the wall, opened it and removed another set of sheets, which he dropped on the chair. Three bedchanges this week; that would be average, but the week was still young. He blamed his mid night meeting with Tal on the Transport deck for breaking his statistical mean.
He checked the clock: Four-twenty-five a.m. He poured a glass of water from the pitcher that stood on the bureau, drank it down without pausing, poured a second glass, and returned to bed. The lights, as always, remained on. Spider had had an acquaintance tinker with them so they couldn’t be turned off, even from the main switch outside. Especially from the switch outside. When they did finally come for him, he didn’t want it to be in the dark.
He sat for a few minutes in the bed, staring straight ahead. Then he lay down on his side, pulled up the clean sheets, and closed his eyes.
Will opened his eyes to a blue ceiling. He was immediately disoriented, not recognizing the white of the City Guard dorms or the faded yellow of the compartment he’d grown up in with his sister. A long, black second later it came to him: The Diamond. Will did not like uncertainty about his life, and he supposed the jarring, stomach-twisting couple of seconds he woke up to here was the price he paid for sleeping on his back. People who sleep on their stomachs, his sister used to say, always wake up in the same place: facing the pillow.
Somewhere to his left a gentle snore erupted. Will smiled, rolled up, and swung his feet down off the cot in one smooth motion. Three feet away, Barington Strife, City Guard Corporal, lay sprawled on his side. Barry’s pillow was on the floor. Three other cots were set up in the room, a medium-sized chamber with a floor of inlaid marblewood and wall hangings of shimmery forest green. Jade Court, he thought. I never thought I’d wake up on court level. His four Sangaree guards had been impressed, though it was Will’s private opinion that this chamber used to be a wardrobe closet for some court lady. He’d found a tangle of hangers stuffed behind the dresser and a rather delicate pair of rose-colored underpants.
Will got up, passed the two empty cots belonging to the guards still on twelve-hour shift outside Iolanthe’s door, and went into the adjoining spit to wash. When he came out again, he slapped the side of Barry’s cot.
A groan issued from Corporal Strife.
“Get up, Bar,” said Will.
Strife sat up. He was thin and dark, with a sharp nose. “What time is it?”
“Six-thirty.”
Strife immediately collapsed again upon the cot. “It’s three hours till relief.”
“But you have things to do first.” Will glanced at the other occupied cot, where a stocky young man lay motionless beneath the covers. “You too, TJ, I know you’re listening.”
“Oh, shit,” said TJ. The youngest of them, only eighteen, he slowly pulled back the sheets, then lay there motionless again as though waiting for Will to change his mind.
Will smacked him on the anklebone. TJ got up and headed for the spit. “Hang on a minute,” said Will, “I have to be out of here in ten minutes, I need to give you your orders. Teej, there’s a full level-by-level map of the Diamond in a chamber off the Hall of Audience. I want you to go there and start memorizing it. You can study till it’s time to change shifts.”
TJ waved acknowledgment and proceeded into the spit. Will said, “Bar, I want you to attend the breakfast reception being given by the Chamber Music Society in Malachite Court. It’ll get you used to the customs here, and I want you to start recognizing some of the important people.”
Strife looked horrified. “Why does TJ get the easy assignments?”
“He was the first one of out bed. Take it to heart.” Will started pulling on his uniform pants.
Strife sat there, looking unhappy. Will said, “You’ll get free food. And they serve real coffee here all the time, to everybody on court level. Take advantage.”
“As though you care. The way you look at a cup, you’d think it had poison in it.”
“We all have natural food preferences, Bar. I like tea.”
Strife continued looking miserable. Impatiently, Will said, “What?”
Strife didn’t meet his eyes. In a low voice, he said, “Willie, you sure you made a good choice with us four? We’re not exactly the breakfast reception type.”
Will paused in buttoning his crisp white uniform shirt.
™ He stepped over to the wall and leaned against the ornate, overly baroque bureau that had been hastily shoved into the room when they were assigned to it. Neither of them spoke for a full minute. Then Will said softly, “Maybe I didn’t feel like depending on four admin kids who’d only be putting in their time until promotion.”
“Your four admin kids would probably go over better with the people here.”
There was a profound silence between them, without even the sound of water from the next room. Finally Will said, “Sangaree doesn’t define you unless you let it. It’s a fucking game, Bar, that’s all it is. If you’re afraid to play, you’re screwed from the beginning.”
“You can say that.”
“Me? Did somebody come down and
