“Hello, big sister,” he said, bending over to kiss me on the cheek.
“Little troublesome brother,” I said, taking a seat in the booth.
Ennis stretched his legs under the table. “I’ve just come from a double shift, sis, because one of the regulars on the third had the bad grace to die.”
There was not a great deal of camaraderie among the Outsiders. They barely knew each other, and one and all believed that this was a temporary assignment, taken for the cash, no matter how many years they’d thrown into this hellhole.
“And the supervisor chose you? For your heavy technical experience?”
Ennis grinned. He’d required a certain amount of coaching to qualify for his position. “For the charm of my speech,” he said. “I made an unfortunate reference to her appearance one day when she criticized my speed.”
I sighed. “Oh, cuz. It’s just a short-term assignment for you, isn’t it? You’ve said you’re going back to the Station once you put away a little more money. Can’t you just hang on till then? Without annoying people, I mean?” I took a sip of the drink he’d snagged for me. “You’re far too much like my own family—always in trouble.” I looked up. “This isn’t soda.”
“No, I think it’s whiskey.”
I pushed it away. “Troublemaker. You know I don’t drink.”
“Then you’re the only Graykey I ever met who doesn’t.”
“Not on assignment, I mean.” I heard my voice drop and I must have looked embarrassed. I didn’t like to speak of the contract.
“And how is your honorable tarethi-din?”
“Well, thanks.”
He pushed the drink back toward me. “One sip won’t put you over the edge.”
I ignored it. “Ennis, are you happy here?”
“What do you mean?” He looked startled.
“Well, your last contract didn’t turn out so well—that’s just my impression, I’m not going to ask you about it if you don’t want to talk—and then you show up on the Diamond hoping for a little time with somebody from home. And I haven’t had much of that for you. I’m sorry.”
Ennis looked down at the table. Was he blushing? I probably shouldn’t have brought up his contract. “I didn’t mean—” I began.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m fine. But my days are of surpassing tedium. And since you’re here now, O daughter of the O’Malleys and Murtaghs, maybe you could entertain me.”
“I don’t sing or dance.”
He drained his own drink. “Tell me about the Diamond,” he said.
I’d wanted to talk of home. “It’s a big city. Do you want to hear about the language, the fashions, or the decor?”
“The legends.”
“Ah. You want to hear about Deirdre of the Twelve? Or dive way back to the Curosa, and the animals going in two by two?”
“The Curosa … I was reading something about them just last night. About the Curosa leaving sacred objects behind for their converts, stuff for them to stumble over in a thousand years or so. You sure a beer would be too much, little sister?”
“No, thanks. … A thousand years or so? The only Curosa legacy I heard of that hasn’t already been found would be the Sawyer Crown. I had no idea you were a scholar.”
He smiled modestly.
I left early and decided, for no well-defined reason, to see whether Tal was in his office. Being with Ennis was not as much fun as I’d hoped when he came onboard.
Chapter 25
Spider had been delayed from visiting the Starhall Theater by the power of his own curiosity—usually an indolent force, but once roused, implacable in its effects on him. He had a stronger stash than ever before, thanks to his successes in siphoning inventory products, and it had occurred to him for the first time in his life that he could afford to buy an Oracle.
He was loath to spend any money on something that wasn’t tangible, yet the thought kept teasing him. He was sitting in Tal’s office, in Tal’s chair, looking at Tal’s link. It was a remarkably well-set-up link, with all sorts of access and communications capabilities. He couldn’t get into most of it, but all it took for an Oracle was a connection to the City of Pearl and the transfer of money; and that he could do. And consider the privacy! If there were anyplace on the Diamond he would swear wasn’t wired, it had to be Tal’s office. Tal would’ve jammed any bugs long ago—he had no hesitation about using Outsider technology.
No, it was a silly idea. But— No.
Well— He activated the communications for a voice link, dropping a twenty-dollar piece into the link’s maw.
“City of Pearl, please. I’d like an Oracle.”
There was a pause, and then a voice said, “Of what standard?”
“What do you mean, of what standard?”
The voice rattled off, “Prophetic, Inspired, High Professional, Middle Professional, Low Professional, Journeyman, Retired.”
“Good heavens.” He cleared his throat. “I want the best.”
“Prophetic,” said the voice. “Please deposit ten thousand dollars. We will await receipt.”
“Wait! Ah, how much is ‘Inspired’?”
There was another pause. The voice said, with some disdain, “How much do you have?”
Spider would have liked to wipe that tone out of the voice, but he refused to be snubbed into letting go of good hard cash. “What’s your cheapest?”
“Least expensive. And it’s ‘Retired.’ At a rate of one hundred dollars per hour.”
“I’ll take that, then.”
It warned, “You’ll be charged for an hour even if you take five minutes.”
Spider counted out two fifty pieces. “Hear that? That’s your money coming through.”
There was brief static. He wondered if they’d taken his hundred dollars and cut him off. Then a querulous old-lady’s voice, a little like his mother’s but much, much older, stated: ‘This had better be good. I believe I was working on a royal flush when you called.”
“Good Lord,” said Spider involuntarily.
“There’s no need for profanity. Do you know what a royal flush is?”
“Yes,” said Spider, who knew very well. “I beg your pardon—”
“And so you should.”
“No—I mean—I beg your pardon, but are you really an Oracle?”
There was silence at
