He broke his gaze before the Director noticed. “If I don’t get at that meat soon, I’m going to turn into a Drooler.”
***
“Out of the way, ladies. Clear a path for the Official Party.”
“Don’t shove me, you bag of scat, or I’ll report you to your superior.”
“Go right ahead, you crazy bitch.”
“Take his identity, Twitch.”
Twitchfinger rubbed her ear along the soldier’s coat.
The Peoples Corps Volunteer backed away politely. His scent had been recorded. Those two madwomen could make his life miserable. They smelled well-fed.
“You’re a nice man underneath,” Slypaws said. “And you’d be nice all over if it weren’t for the deleterious effect of a command structure on your psyche.”
“Don’t look now, but there’s the couple from hell.” Twitch meant Lockjaw and his hussy, Drooplip, behind the corner of the stage, out of the way of the procession.
“Jaws is just waiting to repossess us, pending the outcome of the Occasion.”
“Not this time, baby. He’ll have to swim to catch me. He doesn’t have the lungs.” Twitchwhisker measured the run from the city side of the restaurant to the little harbour.
“I’d stay away from Droopy. She’s got serious dental rot. One bite from her and you’ll get Saint Hapticia’s Dance.”
“Make way for the Protector Elect’s party! Make way!”
First were two Honour Guard cadets. Introducing the procession, they demonstrated that the feast to come was a City Function which meant that it belonged to every hardworking stiff who owned a den. Next came the Chief Magistrate looking as rotund as the speech he promised. He showed that, while the feast belonged to the citizenry, it wouldn’t have been possible except for the adoration which the City Elders and their Leading Families had for the common folk. Then a squadron of High Guard; they acted as a symbol of the Protector’s power, and Slypaws examined the commanding officers with interest because they were said to be his sons which meant, technically, that they were her stepsons – a ridiculous, brutal and contaminating thought which she banished instantly. Then … well, who was this?
Twitchwhisker felt her friend quiver.
“That’s Pawsy’s child, Sensibella. My niece. What on earth is she doing here?”
“She’s gorgeous.”
“I don’t want her to see me.” Slypaws edged herself behind Twitchwhisker.
But Sensibella even while looking straight ahead was using her nose, and she smelled something familiar and paused to trace the scent. She saw Aunt Slypaws, Bandit’s mom. She veered from the procession long enough to whisper something to her aunt in passing: “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Does your mom know you’re here?”
“It’s too late to matter.”
“Bandit’s here. He’s up on the podium.”
“I know. Look, get out now before the event starts. It’s going to be a total stain.”
Sensibella slid back into her place without missing a step.
Now there came a gap in the procession and the sound of polite applause further behind.
“Should we?” Slypaws asked. The two of them intended to turn their backs on Meatbreath.
“I’m not going to let him see my face.”
“I’m looking face forward. I’m going to look the Jerk in the eye. You can ignore him if you want to.”
“I’ll stand with you. He won’t remember me anyway. But what about Bandit?”
“He’s playing this double-agent thing, and he’s not the type. He’s only doing it for Sensibella. You want to know how I know that? He didn’t mention her when he freed us.”
“I’d say he’s a cool double agent then. And he got us out of Lockjaw’s grip.”
“Still, I’ve got to protect him if things turn sour.”
***
A sigh travelled through the crowds below. Touchwit looked up with them. Lady Hapticia had appeared. The Clamshell she rides on had ascended over the river, and its light sparkled on the water. “Is that enough light for you?” she asked the seagull.
“Gulls simply don’t fly at night, period. Whatever the conditions. It’s a rule. It comes from flying over oceans. Think of what it feels like to lose all your reference points.”
Mindwalker crowded the gull. “Reference points are precisely what we need right now. How is Clutch is doing? Is he a prisoner? Is he dead? Is he coming here with the Creekers?”
“You can assume that he’s not coming here because otherwise he’d be here already.”
Touchwit intervened quickly. “It’s a comfort that you’re staying up late with us.”
“Thank you. It’s past my bedtime.”
