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leader. "I'm not a damned tourist, I'm here looking for
Nancy Sands. I didn't come here to do you any harm or--"
"Shut up right now."
"Is Silverhand Sally around?" asked Dan.
Jamaica was sliding a snubnosed lazgun out of his thigh holster. "You
know Sal?"
"Nancy does, and so--"
"Jamaica, it won't hurt to let him chat a bit with our Sal," put in
Angel. "After that, if she doesn't know him, then we can kill him off.
Okay?" Jamaica dropped the weapon back into its holster. After
rubbing his palm across his crimson tunic, he said, "All right, okay.
She's in the nave. Take him there and if he makes any trouble on the
way, he's dead and done for."
"All I want is--"
"He won't make any trouble," promised Angel, tugging at Dan's arm. When
they were walking along a dim, vaulted corridor, he said, "That was
very risky, getting beaky with Jamaica.
He's not a chap who's too awfully fond of debating."
"Yeah, I know that, but--"
"You on the other hand truly love to argue."
Dan nodded. "Guess I do, yeah."
There were seven or eight young people in the large, stonewalled room
Angel brought him to. Three of them had been wounded and were
bandaged. None of them was Nancy.
Silverhand Sally finished bandaging the third and turned toward Angel.
She was a slim girl of about seventeen, blonde, wearing tan trousers, a
gray tunic, and a gunbelt that held two lazguns. Her right hand and
arm to the elbow were of silvery metal. "Who's that with you?"
"I'm Dan Cardigan." He crossed the mosaic floor to her. "You're a
friend of Nancy's and--"
"Dan Cardigan." She stood. "Sure, she told me about you."
"I figured she might be staying with you, so I came to find her," he
explained. "Where is she?"
Sally shook her head. "I'm sorry, Dan. The Tek Kids took some
prisoners," she said quietly. "Nancy was one of them."
Sally, her chill metallic hand holding his arm, was leading Dan along
a shadowy, vaulted corridor. They were moving away from the cook fires
and darkness started to close in. The intricate carvings on the stone
walls and the ornate wooden ornamentation were barely discernible. "You
should've eaten," she told him.
"Not very hungry."
"Dog meat's not bad," the blonde young woman said. "Takes a bit of
getting used to. Mostly, though, that's because in the world you and I
come from, we think of them only as pets."
"You ever going to go back?"
"Mind that fallen masonry, scrunch over close to this wall,"
she cautioned. "No, I'm here for life."
"Why?"
"Because this is better than that was."
"Parents?"
"Father mostly." She guided him through an arched doorway.
"After my accident, after I got my imitation arm, he turned much worse.
Not that he was ever a very good dad."
Dan asked her, "The arm you have now--that's not the one they got you
originally, is it?"
"Oh, no, not at all. No, they bought me a very proper, very
conventional one. Highly believable and looking just exactly like
flesh and blood. Duck your head for a minute along here and keep an
eye cocked for bats," she warned as they entered another long,
partially ruined corridor. "Might be a few rats underfoot,
tOO."
"So why the silver arm?"
"Well, I simply grew tired of the bullshit," she replied.
"Seemed like every time I'd touch anybody with the replacement, they'd
cringe or look all nervous. I decided, why hide the damn thing? I got
me a nice shiny robot arm and now there's no question as to whether
it's real or not. If I touch you, you know damn well what I touched
you with and fuck you if you don't like it."
They'd reached a room that was nearly intact. Statues and carvings
ringed it.
Sally let go of him. "You can bunk safely here for tonight,"
she told him. "On one of those straw mats yonder." From under her
tunic she produced a squat chunk of tallow candle. "Probably have the
place to yourself, since most of them think it's haunted hereabouts.
This used to be called the Poets' Corner." Lighting the candle, she
stuck it down on a stone bench. To his right Dan noticed a wall
carving of someone referred to as "O rare Ben Jonson."
He asked, "What's likely to happen to Nancy?" "Best not to think about
it, Dan." "I can't just let them--"
"It's tough, I know. But believe me, the TKs will kill you dead if you
try to go near their digs at Buckingham Palace."
"But she's a friend of yours, too. How can--"
"Living here, being part of a gang, that means you can't afford to be
sentimental."
"We're not talking about making stew out of dogs," he said to her,
angry. "This is a girl who may be raped or tortured or even killed."
Sally touched his arm with her real fingers. "I'd like to help, but
there's nothing to do," she said. "You saw what happened here, how
many of us they hurt and killed."
"I thought gangs like yours believed in revenge."
"Sure, but not in suicide." She walked over, kicking at a sleeping mat
with her foot. "Eventually we'll do something, you can count on that,
but it'll be carefully planned." "Meantime, Nancy's in danger."
"Yes, but that can't be helped," Sally said. "You'd best turn in now.
I have to get back."
"Why'd she come here?"
"You already know that. Nancy was looking for some kind of
sanctuary."
"No, I mean why did she run away from the McCays?" "She didn't like
them much."
"Maybe not, but her life wasn't in danger there and it sure as hell is
here."
Sally said, "Well, she overheard some conversations." "About what--her
father?"
The girl nodded. "It's funny, you know, some girls take one hell of a
long time to see through their dads," she said. "Nancy, in spite of
everything, had been going along thinking that Bennett Sands was an
innocent chap who'd been maligned and framed by the authorities." She
laughed. "And him one of the Tek kingpins. But, you know, you
couldn't get her to believe that."
Dan moved closer to her. "Why'd she change, what did she find out?"
"She didn't confide all that much in me, Dan. But I know she happened
to overhear the McCays talking about a business venture that was going
to involve her father."
"A Tek business venture?"
"Exactly, and something quite big and important," answered
Sally.
"How's he going to run Tek business from prison?" "Maybe he's not
planning to stay in prison. I'm not sure," she said. "All I know is
that whatever Nancy overheard upset her a good deal. She had to get
away from there for a while to think everything over."
"She could' ye come to me for help."
"I think eventually she was going to," said Sally. "Confide everything
she'd learned to you and your dad. But, see, she still had a feeling
that doing that would be betraying her father. That's why she wanted
some time to make up her mind about just what to do. Of course, dear
old pop had betrayed Nancy for years and thought nothing of it, but she
didn't see things that way." Patting his arm, she leaned and kissed
him on the cheek. "Bed down. I'll fetch you early in the morning and
we'll see about getting you safely back to your own."
After a few seconds he answered, "Yeah, that'll be the best thing, I
guess. Thanks, Sally."
She left him.
He looked around the Poets' Corner, at the statues and carvings.
"Longfellow, Chaucer," he recited absently. "Milton,
Gray."
He sat on a straw mat for a while, watching the flickering flame on the
fat candle.
When he figured it must be past midnight, he took up the candle and
started back the way he'd come. Soon he reached a break in the
wall. Beyond showed foggy night. Extinguishing the candle, he set it
carefully down on the stones. Then he slipped out into the darkness.
He was heading for Buckingham Palace. Behind him in the fog a solitary
figure followed. A sleety rain was hitting against the leaded windows
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