‘Jeshel’s stirrin’ up the fuckin’ rabble again,’ remarked Myrony, his bald pate gleaming in the light of the late afternoon sun as he put down the com-control and moved toward the glass doors that opened on a spacious roof terrace. ‘Our man over in BDL reports he assaulted some fuckin’ Tripsinger a few days ago. I wish you’d sit on him, Bins. You’re the High Pontiff, and that’s the only one he listens to. He’s goin’ to provoke Thonks to do somethin’ foolish before we’re ready.’
The multitudes would have been surprised to see their High Priest at home, Myrony’s shiny pate unwigged, his sonorous voice fallen into the vulgar accents of his youth. Myrony had been born and reared in a scum-pocket on Zenith, an entertainment world known more for its depravity than for its devotion to theology. That he had risen so far into godliness from this beggarly beginning spoke volumes for his tenacity and ruthlessness, if not for his conscience.
‘Old Sweet Wuyllum won’t do anything until we’re ready,’ murmured Aphrodite through perfect teeth and lips, which pursed into a kiss as she peered into the mirror and preened over the glitter of the new firestone necklace. She had been Myrony’s associate on a dozen worlds, and she knew him better than anyone still living. ‘Thonks knows whose hand stuffs his pocket.’
‘Not necessarily so, Affy,’ Chantiforth Bins corrected her in comfortably avuncular tones. Though his association with the other two was more recent than theirs with one another, he had long ago adopted a familiar and confidential tone with them both. The Governor could be forced to move. Myrony’s right. We need to sit on Jeshel unless Wuyllum tells us he needs an incident. And then we need to do a quick sunder and be off-planet by the time it happens.’
‘Harward Justin’s not going to let anything happen to us,’ the woman remarked, stretching luxuriously while stroking the gemstones. The necklace was a gift from Justin, and Aphrodite had her own reasons for believing the BDL boss would take care of them. Her ego was so strong that she had never considered any other outcome of their relationship. Though she didn’t realize it, her complaisance was a personality trait that Justin much appreciated, since he felt it made her totally predictable. He would have been reinforced in this opinion by her remarks. ‘Justin likes the good job we’ve done for him,’ she said, smiling at her own reflection and giving the gem one last pat. She did not enjoy remembering the earning of the gift, but having it made up for that. ‘It’s the first time we’ve ever hired out to start a religion, you know that? It’s been what you might call interesting.’
‘Given the free hand we had, it wasn’t bad,’ Chantiforth admitted.
‘It wasn’t workin’ worth shit until Justin brought in those shiploads of trash from Serendipity,’ Myrony remarked. ‘Didn’t have two converts to rub together until then. You have to hand it to Justin. He knew the kind of people would go for it. Jeshel and his bunch are just right.’
‘Jeshel and his bunch are going to scream contra-tenor when they get interned with all the rest,’ Chantiforth objected. ‘Justin may be sorry he’s got them on his hands then.’
‘Let Jeshel scream. Let him say anything he likes. He has no idea who we really are, and less than no idea where we’re going to be. The army’ll take care of Jeshel.’ Chantiforth Bins rose and crossed to the high windows that looked out over the city. ‘I’m going to miss this place.’
‘Not me,’ Aphrodite said. ‘The food’s lousy, the noise never lets up, and the only music they have is that damn Tripsinger howling. Me for the Spice Coast on ’Dipity.’
‘I think we all agree it was worth it though.’ Bins turned from the window with a smile, rubbing his fingers together suggestively. ‘Biggest one we’ve done together. Didn’t all those pilgrims bleed money?’
Aphrodite puckered her forehead. ‘Pity there won’t be any more pilgrims when BDL crashes everything. And you’re right, Chants. We need to do a sunder well ahead of the shutdown. No telling what some PEC flunky might end up doing. There might be some kind of a last-minute shift that could leave us where we’re not supposed to be. Whenever that CHASE Commission gets here, we need to start moving. Couple of months? Or maybe sooner, from what I hear. And we need to watch our money, too. Even though it’s on Serendipity, something could go wrong. There’s about six million now. Split three ways, Chants-love, that’s two million for each of us. Which is not too utterly threadbare for three years’ part-time work.’
‘More than three fuckin’ years total,’ growled Myrony. ‘Chanty and me had to set up the Jut Massacre, remember? That was a little iffy. I didn’t like bein’ that close to those fuckin’ Presences. And there was some rumor-mongerin’ even before that.’
Aphrodite shrugged. ‘It didn’t exactly take your full time, My. You and Chanty managed to get in on that Heron’s World slash-up in between. You guys made me real mad on that one, you know! I’m some kind of shredded settler’s brush, you couldn’t cut me in on that?’ She stood up and drifted lazily to the window, looking out over the low parapet to the snarling hubbub of the city.
‘You weren’t around,’ Myrony snarled, giving her a nasty look. ‘You were busy. Seems to me there was something I heard about some diplomatic papers that disappeared.’
‘Never mind,’ she said, turning to wave her hands at him, shushing him. ‘I don’t want
