Besides, it was wrong to think of it as a conspiracy. A counterconspiracy, rather. A counterintelligence group. This allowed for some additional names. The Jubal Operation. He rather liked that one.
‘What’a you want?’ The voice was unaccommodating. Gentry turned to see the Crystallite standing behind him, as lank haired, stubble faced, and smelly as had been described.
‘My name is Basty Pardo,’ Gentry advised him. ‘The Governor’s lady is interested in how her little project is coming along.’ His name had been Basty Pardo once, and he was certain that the Governor’s lady was interested in a good many things. Rheme avoided lies whenever possible.
Brother Jeshel grunted. Gentry was a type he hated instinctively. He was clean and fit looking, with good teeth. Such men couldn’t be up to any good, so far as Brother Jeshel was concerned, but he couldn’t insult the man. Not now. Not yet. He chose divagation.
‘I’m interested in how my own little project is coming along! Some troopers took some of my people the other day. Out toward the Great Ones we was watchin’ over. Heretics came right by the Great Ones, and when we chastised ’em, the troopers came. She told us she’d keep the troopers off us.’
Rheme put on his voice of cold command. ‘If you’re talking about your attack on the Tripsinger and his acolytes who came through the Mad Gap, it was stupid of your people to interfere. The Governor can keep the troops off your neck so long as you don’t assault people, Jeshel, but once you start throwing things, the troopers will move. Nobody can stop them.’
Jeshel glared at him in astonishment. The pretty boy could talk hard at any rate. ‘The Governor can command ’em.’
‘Not when it’s a case of public order. They have standing orders for situations like that. The Governor can keep the troopers from rounding you up – at least for a while – but he can’t give you immunity. You know that.’ It all had a fine authoritative sound, and Rheme wondered briefly if he was saying anything at all true or relevant to the situation. In most situations, sounding authoritative was good enough.
Jeshel grunted. The assault on the Tripsinger had been a calculated risk. He hadn’t really expected to get away with it, but his people were getting restless, eager for some real confrontation. There had to be an incident soon, something major, or some of them would start to backslide.
‘The Governor’s lady wants to know what’s going on,’ Rheme repeated impatiently, hoping the man would respond. It would be dangerous to stay too long or to talk much more than he already had. A wrong word and the filthy fanatic would catch on to the fact that Rheme knew next to nothing and was fishing for information.
‘I don’t know. It was only yesterday. I sent some people, but they haven’t come back yet.’
Nor had Donatella Furz come back yet, at least she had not by the time Rheme left Northwest City. Nor had the starkly handsome Tripsinger and his acolytes, come to that.
‘Did you send some of your followers?’ This seemed a safe question.
‘Nuh. Not real members. Some people I know.’
‘You think … ah … this time they’ll succeed?’
‘I sent enough of ’em. Four of ’em. If she got sent out yesterday, like was promised, my people should’ a caught up with her about dark.’
‘Heavens.’ Rheme took out his handkerchief and fastidiously wiped his hands and brow, deciding to risk it. ‘That should be enough to deal with one Explorer, shouldn’t it? But then, we have to remember, you didn’t succeed either time before.’
‘What’a you mean, either time?’ Jeshel scowled at the smaller man, a suspicious snarl crossing his lips. ‘Wasn’t any other time. This is the only one.’
‘Is it only once? Well, it may be. The Governor’s lady uses other people as well. Well, I’ll give her your message. Meantime, tell your people to stay out of trouble, Jeshel. Burn themselves up all they like, but don’t throw rocks? Hmmm?’
Outside in the street, Rheme unlocked his car in the face of twenty scowling Crystallites who had materialized from various hovels and alley openings, carefully not looking at any of them. They were the kind of beasts that were threatened by a direct look. When he drove off, it was to the clatter and splat of missiles hitting the car, but he felt cheered that it was nothing worse than that.
Though his own temporary office was at Government House, he drove directly to BDL Headquarters and parked in the back, not in the courtyard. That courtyard, like that of the citadel next door, was under fairly consistent surveillance by Honeypeach herself, who liked to know who was going and coming from Splash One. Inside the building, he slipped down a flight of back stairs and into an untenanted cross hallway. At the end of it was an unmarked door, and he knocked softly in an insistent pattern.
‘Gentry?’ someone whispered.
‘Me,’ he agreed, slipping through the door as it opened a crack. ‘Good heavens, do we have to go through all this whisper and skulk?’
Gereny Vox lifted one eyebrow. ‘There’s no eyes or ears in this room, Rheme. It’s maybe the only room in the whole BDL building you can say that about. Reason there’s no eyes is that this is the mule breeding files down here. Who the hell cares about the mule farm files, right? I’ve got a reason to be here. You don’t. Better say it quick and get gone.’
He sighed, wiping his forehead once again. ‘Get word to Thyle that you were right. Honeypeach traded favors with Brother Jeshel to get Don Furz killed. He sent four men, but it’s the only time he has sent anyone.’ He wiped his forehead and ran his finger inside his high, tight collar. ‘Gereny, it’s
