Fine. Go for it, buddy. Just include me out of the revolution and its aftermath. I'm happy with my life the way it is.

Relway and Spike led me to a tenement that had burned recently but incompletely. Though abandoned, its cellars remained habitable—defining habitable by liberal standards.

I asked, "How do we find out if anybody's in there?"

It was broad daylight. I was strutting around with two guys Winchell knew, two guys with no ability to cut any slack. They had black-and-white minds. An hour earlier Winchell and Ripley were their best buddies. Now those two were just names on the sleazeball list, scum in need of expungement.

Relway gave the ruins the fish-eye. "Spike, you're better at getting around quietly. Check it out."

Ratmen are sneaky bastards. Spike went off like a ghost, not toward the place that interested us. Relway and I made ourselves invisible while we waited. Relway was a chatterbox with a nose a foot long. He wanted to know all about who I was and why I was interested in the case.

"None of your business," I told him.

In a huff, Relway said, "You could at least show some manners. You could be polite. I'll be important in the New Order."

"I'm not polite to Block. I wouldn't be polite to his boss. I'm not going to waste polite on you and the rat. I didn't particularly want to be here. Fate keeps messing me around."

"I hear what you're saying. Same shit happens to me. Maybe more, looking the way I do."

"Nothing wrong with the way you look," I lied. "There's the rat. What's he signaling?"

"I think he means they're in there. He wants to know what we do now."

"What we do now is wait for Block. I got a feeling this Winchell is nasty. I'd just hate it if he got away over my dead body."

"I know where you're coming from, Garrett." Relway waved and poked the air. So did Spike. "I'm not big on becoming a dead hero myself. I do want to see the New Order arrive. You wouldn't be the Garrett that's the investigator, would you?"

"Probably. Why? I didn't mess up any of your family or pals, did I?"

"No. Nope. What you're looking at is something you ain't going to believe exists. A real one in a trillion. A pervert. An honest breed who comes from a family that's never had even one member taken in for questioning." His tone was challenging, and deservedly so, because my attitude reflected the general prejudice. What was embarrassing was that it wasn't a prejudice I really felt.

"We're off on the wrong foot here and it's mostly my fault, Relway. It isn't personal. I've been in a foul mood since I got up. I usually save my venom for the ratmen."

"You're weird, Garrett. Here comes the man." He meant Block. Evidently Block was held in high esteem in some quarters.

48

Block still held me in high enough esteem that he sought approval before he moved. "The place is surrounded. Gonna take some doing for anybody to get out."

"Dead Man says take them alive if you can. The curse probably can't transfer while they're still alive."

"They?"

"Part must be touching Ripley somehow. Or Winchell, whichever isn't the primary carrier."

"Yeah. Got you. I guess there's no reason to stall anymore. Might as well do it."

A thought had wormed through my head several times lately. I'd pushed it out over and over. It came back again. I was going to be sorry, but, "I maybe ought to go with the first rush. The girl will recognize me. If I let her know it's a rescue, we can maybe keep the panic level down, maybe save ourselves some people getting hurt."

"That's up to you. You want to go, go. I'm giving Relway first shot. Tell him what you're doing, then don't give him no grief while he's doing his job. He's better than any of my regulars."

"Right." I joined Relway. "I'm going in with you. The girl knows me."

"You armed?"

"Not for blood." I showed him my headknocker.

He shrugged. "Don't get in the way of the real cops."

What a straight line. It was all I could do to avoid temptation.

Relway's storm group were armed up to take a town from a Venageti Guards division. I hoped they'd had some experience along those lines. They hadn't had any training since.

"You figure to face that much trouble?"

"No," Relway said. "But this bunch will be ready for whatever trouble they do find."

"Good thinking. No way you can get chewed out for not being ready when you go in ready for everything."

Relway smiled. "There you go."

I looked across the street. Spike was restless. "Things always get more real at moments like this."

"You had it that way down there?"

"Worse. Lots worse. I was a scared kid then."

"Me too. You ready?"

"I won't get any readier."

"Follow me." He took off. Garrett the white knight pranced the cobblestones a step behind, followed by a half-dozen uniformed champions of justice who had no idea how to accomplish what they'd been ordered to do. They hadn't joined the Watch to capture madmen or protect TunFaire from villains.

The ratman had a tiny basement window scouted. As we arrived, he dived through, wriggling, his hideous naked tail lashing behind him. I think that's what gets me about ratmen. The tails. They're really disgusting.

"After you," Relway said as that tail slithered inside.

"What?" That window was too small. It wasn't meant to pass a body. It was as big as it was only because some small-timers had worked on it so they could get inside and clean the place out. Of what, I can't imagine.

"You said you're the hero she knows."

"Shit." And I did volunteer for this.

I flopped on my belly and shoved my feet through the window. The ratman pulled. Relway shoved. I popped through, hit the floor, stumbled over a loose brick, muttered, "Where are they?"

"Back where you see the light," Spike whispered. That made him real hard to understand. Ratmen have trouble enough talking without whispering. Their throats aren't made for speech. "You cover while we get more men down." This ratman had spent a lifetime dealing with humans. He hadn't hidden himself away from the mainstream, content to live in society's cracks, taking only what no one else wanted. My respect for him rose.

I readied my headknocker, advanced toward the light, which leaked around a poorly closed door. I wondered why Winchell and Ripley hadn't either attacked us or made a run for it. Seemed to me we were making an armageddon sort of racket.

All of a sudden I had three guys behind me and Relway telling them, "We've got the other way out covered. Let's do it. Garrett?"

I took a deep breath and hit the door. I hurled myself at it, expected to demolish my shoulder.

The door collapsed. I didn't know my own strength. I was a regular Saucerhead Tharpe. I tore it right off its hinges.

I collapsed after two staggering steps over a footing of broken bricks.

Elvis Winchell and Price Ripley were hard at work snoring on beds of sacks and rags. Evidently carrying a curse was exhausting work. The only open eyes around belonged to Candy. She responded to my entrance but not in any wild display of joy.

Hell. She didn't know why we were there. For all she knew, we were pals with Winchell and his sidekick. I stumbled to my feet. "We're the rescue crew." Winchell and Ripley had begun to respond, finally. Relway bopped Ripley over the head before the poor guy could get his eyes open. Relway wasn't having any trouble with the footing. He looked positively graceful.

Spike had less luck putting Winchell back to sleep. Winchell evaded his blows, scooted away, his eyes trying to sparkle green. Maybe he didn't quite have the hang of it yet.

Gods, he looked awful. Like he'd aged fifteen years in the time since he'd helped bring in the villain Downtown Byrd had given us. Ripley, too, looked bad, but not nearly as bad as Winchell.