Dread Brass Shadows

35

Does anybody know who this guy Sinkler was? Does anybody care? Somebody put up a statue, didn't they?

Hell, maybe that ugly hunk of rock was there when they built the city. It looks worn out enough. If anybody does know, they haven't been talking. Whatever Sinkler did, it's a secret from me. Only the pigeons have much use for him. They perch on his upraised arms and tricorner hat and wait for primo targets to come by. Once upon a time he was covered with copper. Thieves took care of that ages before I was hatched.

Sinkler stands in the center of a small square where five streets butt heads, maybe half a mile northwest of my place. His main significance to me is he marks the frontier between your ordinarily dreadful city and the Bustee, which makes any part of town you care to name look like a suburb of heaven. The Bustee is where the real poor folks live. The Bustee is a quarter Chodo Contague wouldn't enter without an army, let alone wimps like the Watch. Hell, it's gotten so bad lately some of the landlords have gotten chicken to collect their rents.

Of course, a Chodo wouldn't bother going into the Bustee. People there are so poor they can't afford names. They survive by looking poorer than their neighbors.

Hell on earth. In the Marines I met guys out of there. They thought the Corps was great, despite the war. They got food to eat, clothes to wear, shoes on their feet, their life expectancies were better in the Cantard than at home, and they even got paid. So how come you rich boys are all pissing and moaning?

My folks never had a pot to pee in, but I'd grown up rich compared to those guys.

You'd think those people would bust out and go berserk. They never have. Like nobody is taking advantage of the fact that all the lords of the Hill are off to catch Glory Mooncalled. People have a sense of order and place and caste. Most figure if they're poor and dying of starvation, the gods want it that way. Probably they earned it in a former life.

It's a strange world. It's people are stranger.

What am I on about? What's this got to do with Sadler or the Book of Dreams? Not a damned thing. Just indulging the social observer within.

Speaking of Glory Mooncalled, there was a lot of talk. News had come north. People were telling perfect strangers. They'd grab you by the shirt to get you to hold still long enough so they could get the thrill of being first to tell you.

Mooncalled had engineered some apocalyptic collision between the massed Karentine and Venageti armies but lost most of his own making it happen. He was on the run. Or maybe not, depending on your informant. I hung out with Sinkler and absorbed stones. I'd hand them all to the Dead Man when opportunity arose. If ever it did.

I'd spent an hour perched on the pedestal where Sinkler stood, spreading his benevolence. I was begi

It was. He showed eventually. He came creeping out looking around like he was into the loan sharks for half a million and hadn't made his vigorish in a year. I didn't recognize him till he was almost in my lap. He looked like a bum. He wasn't the lethal character I knew and loathed.

He settled beside me, all scrunched up so his size wouldn't give him away. He started throwing crumbs to the pigeons. Nobody would recognize him doing that.

"Where you been?"

"Underground. Had to do some thinking. Couldn't just keep on after I knew why Chodo wanted that book."

"Um?"

"Think what he could do with it."

"I have been. One reason I'm not fond of the idea of him glomming on to it."

"Me neither. Crask too."

"Crask?"

"Took him a little longer but he figured it out. He got a message to me. We met up and talked. We decided we got to do something. We want to bring you in."

His crumbs had brought in pigeons from miles around. They'd been climbing over each other. Now they exploded off the pavement. I glanced up, figuring a flight of thunder-lizards was coming in. But the birds had panicked because of one lone morCartha who appeared to be drunk. Sadler expressed my sentiments for me. "Out in the daytime now, too. Somebody ought to do something. Put a bounty on them, maybe. Give the kids something to do besides cut purses and roll drunks."

Yeah. Things just aren't the way they were in the old days. We had us some respect when we were kids. And so forth. I knew that routine by heart. "How come you're coming to me?"

"You just said you don't want Chodo getting that book."

"I don't want anybody to get it. Not him, not you, not Crask, not the Serpent, not Gnorst Gnorst or Fido Easterman. Hell, I wouldn't trust the old guy who keeps house for me with it. There isn't anybody alive who could resist the temptation."

He thought a minute. "Maybe. I can figure all I could do with it if I could read for shit."

"You can't?"

"My name. A few signs and things I seen all my life. I never got a chance to learn. In the army they didn't teach guys like they did you Marines."

"That was luck." That was something I'd brought away with me. I suspect, though, that I'd been more motivated than Sadler had. "But you sent a note."

"Crask wrote it. He picked up a little here and there. I been thinking we could get us a tutor after Chodo croaks and we take over. Only now it don't look like he plans on checking out, ever."

"So you're figuring on helping him along."

"Something like that."

"I don't do assassinations."

"You was in on the old kingpin biting the big one."

"He didn't bite it, it bit him. And you know how it went down. Morley Dotes set me up. If Saucerhead or I had known what was happening, we'd have been on the other side of town instead of helping Dotes lug his vampire."

"You help us, Garrett, you'd have friends could help you back."

"How? Chodo embarrasses me now, carrying on like I was his favorite kid."

Sadler was startled. Why? He gri

"Would you?"

"I can't read and Crask ain't much better. You figure we could hire somebody to read it for us? You figure we could have that thing and hang on song enough to learn how to read? Without everybody in the world coming after us?"

"You have a point. But I have a problem." I don't do assassinations. I didn't have much use for Chodo but didn't want in on sending him to the big rackets in the sky. He hadn't earned it from me.

I didn't not want in badly enough to tell Sadler no, though. He might decide I had to be put to sleep so I wouldn't tell anybody his plan. "It don't look like I have too many options. How you going to do it?" It's called temporizing.

"Old Chodo, he's going to be partying tonight. Going to be distracted. His daughter is in town for the wingding he throws her every year."

"His what?"

"His daughter." Sadler laughed. "Not a lot of people know about her You'd like her. She's a looker. Must take after her old lady. I never saw the broad. Before my time, Chodo put her away himself ‘cause he caught her screwing the guy who was the boss back then. So what? History is history. Important thing is, he's throwing a birthday party tonight. Goes on like they have before, everybody will drink themselves blind and pass out. Me and Crask figure if we hit about three in the morning, it'll he a walk."

"Why do you need me, then?"

He gri

"Glad you get a kick out of it. Because I really don't know what the hell you're yapping about

"Sour today. Little chickie tell you no? Okay. You remember a while back we all had us a problem with that thing that thought it was a dead god? Wanted to bring itself back to life?