Wildcards

"What's your name?" Chrysalis asked him.

She spoke in a cultured British accent, which would have surprised Bre

"Yeoman," Bre

"Interesting. Its not your real name, of course." Bre

"Would you like to know it?" her companion asked. Fortunato smiled lazily and she shrugged and smiled back noncommittally.

Fortunato looked at Bre

He flashed with anger, his fists clenching, and he knew that he couldn't keep the spore-given ability of Fortunato from penetrating into the core of his brain. There was only one thing he could do.

He took a deep breath, held it, and let all thought drain from his mind. He was back in Japan again, facing Ishida, trying to answer the riddle the roshi has posed him when he had first sought entry to the monastery.

"A sound is heard when both hands are clapped. What is the sound of one hand clapping?"

Wordlessly Bre

Fortunato looked at him with a modicum of respect in his eyes. Chrysalis watched them both carefully.

"You're into Zen?" Fortunato asked.

"A humble student," Bre

"Maybe I'd better speak to Yeoman alone," Chrysalis said. "If you want." Fortunato stood.

"A moment." Bre

Fortunato pursed his lips, nodded. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

He left the table, threading his way through the crowded room.

Bre

"Strange that I haven't heard of you before," she said. "I've just come to town."

Her gaze had become penetrating, captivating. It was with some effort that Bre

"On business?" she asked. Bre

"Your bartender," he began. "How does he get along so well without eyes?"

"That's an easy one," Chrysalis said with a smile. "I'll give it to you for free. Sascha's a telepath, among other things. Don't worry. Whatever secrets you're hiding behind your mask are safe. He's a skimmer. He can only read surface thoughts. Makes his job easier, makes the Crystal Palace safer. He tells Elmo who the dangerous, the sick, the twisted, are. And Elmo gets rid of them."

Bre

"What else?" Chrysalis asked.

"I need to know about two men. A man named Scar and his boss, Kien."

Chrysalis looked at him and frowned. At least, the muscles of her face bunched up. Like her bodily musculature, they looked wispy, insubstantial, as if that which made her flesh and skin totally invisible affected them to the point of translucency.

"You know that they're co

Her words brought to life memories of treachery and violence. Sascha turned his blind gaze to their corner. Elmo stood on tiptoes, craning his thick neck. Around the room half a dozen people fell silent. One man clutched his temples and fainted dead away. He whimpered like a whipped dog as the others at his table tried to bring him out of his trance. Chrysalis broke her gaze from Bre

"They're dangerous, both of them," she said calmly. "Kien's Vietnamese, an ex-general. He showed up about, oh, eight years ago. He quickly insinuated himself into the drug trade and now owns a large share of it. In fact, he has his fingers in most other illegal activities in the city, while maintaining a facade of solid respectibility. Owns a string of dry-cleaning establishments and restaurants. Donates to the proper charities and political parties. Gets invited to all the big social events. Scar's one of his lieutenants. He doesn't report directly to Kien. The general keeps himself well insulated."

"Tell me more about Scar."

"Local boy. I don't know his real name. He's called Scar because of the strange tattoos he's had smeared all over his face. They're supposed to be Maori tribal markings."

Bre

"He supposedly got the idea from an anthropologist from NYU. who was studying his street gang. Something about urban tribalism. Anyway, he's one mean dude. He's Kien's chief muscle. Unbeatable in a fight." She gazed at him shrewdly. "You're going up against him."

It was a statement, not a question.

"What makes him unbeatable?"

"He's an instantaneous teleport. He can vanish quicker than anyone can move and reappear anywhere he wants to. Usually behind his opponent. He's also mean as hell. He could be big stuff, but he likes to kill too much. He's content with being one of Kien's lieutenants. Not that he does badly for himself." She toyed with her glass for a moment, then looked directly at Bre

Bre

"You have nothing. You're just a man. A nat. What makes you think you can take Scar?" she repeated.

"As you said, I'm a man. He's kidnapped the daughter of a friend of mine. I'm the only one left to go after her."

"The police?" Chrysalis began reflexively, then laughed at her own suggestion. "No. Scar, through Kien, has enough police protection. I take it you have no solid evidence that Scar has the girl? No. What about one of the other aces? Black Shadow, Fortunato perhaps…"

"There's no time. I don't know what he's doing to her. Besides"-he stopped for a moment and looked back ten years, "this is personal."

"So I suspected."

Bre

"Where can I find Scar?"

"I'm in the business of selling information and I've already given you plenty for free. That tidbit will cost you."

"I have no money."

"I don't need money from you. I do you a favor, you do me one."

Bre

"Then find your information elsewhere."

The need to be doing something was burning in Bre

She took a sip of her liqueur and regarded the crystal goblet, held in a hand whose flesh was as clear as the goblet itself.

"He has a big place on Castleton Avenue, Staten Island. It's isolated and fenced in and sits on extensive grounds. He likes to hunt. Men."

"He does?" Bre

"Why did Scar kidnap this girl? Is she special in any way?"