it found her lips.
“You listened to the ruler,” he said, “while you were walking in the storm. I like that.”
“Did they listen here?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t here. The wall was off when I came in.”
“Everyone should,” she said. “He does his best for us.”
The scarred young man nodded.
“People won’t cooperate,” she said. “Don’t cooperate. Look at the crime problem—everyone complains about it, but it is the people themselves who commit the crimes. He tries to clean the air, the water, all for us—”
“But they burn in the open whenever they think they won’t be caught,” the young man finished for her, “and throw filth in the rivers. The bosses live in luxury because of him, but they cheat on the standards whenever they can. He should destroy them.”
“He loves them,” the girl said simply. “He loves everyone. When we say that, it sounds like we’re saying he loves no one, but that’s not true. He loves
“Yes,” the scarred young man said after a moment, “but he loves Westwind the best. Loving everyone does not exclude loving someone more than others. Tonight he called Westwind ‘my eyes.’ ”
“Westwind observes for him,” the girl said softly, “and reports. Do you think Westwind is someone very important?”
“He is important,” the young man said, “because the ruler listens to him—and after all, it’s next to impossible for anyone else to get an audience. But I think you mean ‘does he look important to us?’ I don’t think so—he’s probably some very obscure person you’ve never heard of.”
“I think you’re right,” she said.
He was finishing his second sandwich and he nodded, then realized that she could not see him. She was pretty, he decided, in a slender way, not too tall, wore no rings. Her nails were unpainted, which made her hands look, to him, like a schoolgirl’s. He remembered watching the girls playing volleyball when he had been in school—how he had ached for them. He said, “You should have stayed in the terminal tonight. I don’t think this is a safe place for you.”
“Do the rooms lock?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them.”
“If they don’t I’ll put a chair under the knob or something. Move the furniture. At the terminal I tried to sleep on a bench—I didn’t want to walk here through all that rain, believe me. But every time I fell asleep I could feel someone’s hand on me—once I grabbed him, but he pulled away. I’m not very strong.”
“Wasn’t anyone else there?”
“Some men, but they were trying to sleep too—of course it was one of them, and perhaps they were all doing it together. One of them told the others that if they didn’t let me alone he’d kill someone—that was when I left. I was afraid he wasn’t doing it—that somebody would be killed or at least that there would be a fight. He was the one who called about the cab for me. He said he’d pay.”
“I don’t think it was him, then.”
“I don’t either.” The girl was silent for a moment, then said, “I wouldn’t have minded it so much if I hadn’t been so tired.”
“I understand.”
“Would you find the lady and ask her to show me to my room?”
“Maybe we could meet in the morning for breakfast.”
The blind girl smiled, the first time the scarred young man had seen her smile. “That would be nice,” she said.
He went behind the bar and touched the old woman’s arm. “I hate to interrupt the game,” he said, “but the young lady would like to go to her room.”
“I don’t care about the game,” the old woman said. “I just watch it because everybody else does. I’ll get Obie to take care of things.”
“She’s coming,” the scarred young man said to the blind girl. “I’ll go up with you. I’m ready to turn in myself.”
The woman was already motioning for them and they followed her up a narrow staircase filled with foul odors. “They pee in here,” she said. “There’s toilets down at the end of the hall, but they don’t bother to use them.”
“How terrible,” the girl said.
“Yes, it is. But that way they’re getting away with something—they’re putting one over on me because they know if I was to catch them I’d throw them out. I try and catch them, but at the same time I feel sorry for them— it’s pretty bad when the only wins you have left are the games on the wall and cheating an old woman by dirtying her steps.” She paused at the top of the stairs for breath. “You two are going to be just side-by-side—you don’t mind that?”
The girl said, “No,” and the scarred young man shook his head.
“I didn’t think you would and they’re the last I’ve got anyway.”
The scarred young man was looking down the narrow corridor. It was lined with doors, most of them shut.
“I’ll put you closest to the bathroom,” the old woman was saying to the girl. “There’s a hook on the bathroom door, so don’t you worry. But if you stay in there too long somebody’ll start pounding.”
