– And what’s the message?

He raises his shoulders, lets them drop.

– Well, you know, man, you were here. We’re not really trying to hide anything.

– What’s the message, Terry?

– The message is, Everything’s cool. There was some trouble, but now it’s all cool.

– What kind of trouble?

– Well, we thought it best to leave out all the Coalition stuff. That kind of thing’s just gonna stir up bad feelings. So, you know, attempted coup. Not pretty, but an internal matter. No hard feelings to anyone or anything. Something that happens in any revolutionary movement.

– Sure, sure, just the price of doing business.

– The price of politics, anyway.

I fit a cigarette to the corner of my mouth.

– Yeah, politics. Politically speaking, you came out of this in pretty good shape.

– Well, I don’t know if I’d say that. Narrowly averting a coup. Discovering a Coalition plot at the heart of our Clan. Losing one of our highest placed members. I don’t know that that adds up to a good day for the Society and all.

I light up.

– Yeah, taken that way, I guess maybe not. However.

I look for a place to drop the spent match, settle on the floor.

– Taken the other way, it worked out pretty well.

Terry bends and picks up the match.

– What way is that, Joe?

– The way where the truth is involved.

He walks to the sink and drops the match.

– Well, it’s a realpolitik world. The truth doesn’t always will out, you know.

He goes to the fridge.

– Tell me, Terry.

He opens the fridge, back to me, lips zipped.

– Was this the way you had it figured from the top? I mean, when I came wandering in here looking for a gig and you sent me looking for the anathema, was this the way you had it in mind?

He looks at me over his shoulder.

– You need some?

I flex my hands, the dry white skin over my knuckles cracks.

– I’m not thirsty right now.

He sighs.

– You’re a better man than I.

He comes back to the table, a pint of blood in his hand.

– Me, I need a drink.

He takes a penknife from his pocket and pokes a hole in the bag.

– I need it something fierce.

He takes a drink.

I blow smoke.

He points at it.

– That’s not a habit you should be getting into, smoking in here. It’s special circumstances tonight, but in general, not the way we do it.

I keep smoking.

He nods.

– Joe, it did get a little more complicated than I thought it might. I mean, you heard the story. I’m, you know, still waiting for a loose end to come around and get me.

He drinks. A little shudder runs down his body.

– Never get used to it, you know? Never. No matter how long it’s been, no matter how many times I’ve felt it, I’ve never gotten used to how good it goes down. How many other things are like that? How many things in life that you just don’t get tired of?

– You tell me.

He takes another drink.

– Not too many, man, not too many at all.

He drains the rest of the bag, folds it neatly, sets it on the table in front of him.

– So. How I had it figured, what I knew I could count on?

He looks at me.

– How I had it figured was you’d dig around. Being you, you’d, you know, keep digging. Dig and dig and dig until you hit something that stopped you, and then you’d try to dig through it. Knowing that, well, I, you know, guessed it’d be just a matter of time before you dug up Tom.

I smoke.

– Yeah, I get that. A matter of time seeing the way you guys had things all set up, anyway. Pretty fucked up, Terry. All the way around.

– You know what, Joe? You got that right.

He scratches the side of his nose.

– Know what else is fucked up?

– What’s that?

– Think about it.

– About?

He taps his forehead.

– Think for a second. It won’t take long.

I think. I think about the story he just told me. And I get it.

I have my gun. Terry gave it back before I went out with Hurley. I’ve used it since then. I reach for it.

I hear a noise. Terry shakes his head. His hand under the table, holding the sawed-off double-barrel that’s taped there. The one I’ve just heard him cock.

– Easy, Joe.

I take my hand off my gun.

He nods.

– Cool, man. That’s it. Let me show you something.

He brings up his hands. Brings them up empty.

– Nobody here, man. Just me and you. You want to hold your piece on me while we talk, go ahead.

I do want to hold my piece on him. So I pull it and point it.

He smiles.

– Well, shit, what did I expect, right? Offer a guy like you a chance to invest in some mutual trust, I get what I deserve, right?

– What the fuck, Terry? What the fuck with telling me that story? That’s like a goddamn death sentence.

He runs a hand over the top of his head.

– Just trying to get your attention, Joe.

– Trying to get my? Fuck that. You’re trying to. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s fucked up whatever it is.

– Well, that is one possible interpretation of events.

– Fuck you. I’m a Rogue. I can’t get away with knowing that shit.

– Yes, you are. You are a Rogue.

He puts his glasses back on.

– Then again, what if things were, you know, different?

I start to smell it now. He sees me smelling it.

– No.

– Just hear me out. Just, you know, give this a listen.

– No.

– Joe.

He leans forward.

– You have the gun, but you’re in my place. Hear me out.

Shit.

I put the gun away. For as much good as it will do me now.

He rubs his hands together.

– OK. OK. That’s cool. Now we can really rap, really get into it. OK. So, you’ve been asking some interesting questions here. Some deep stuff. Stuff that gets right down there in the roots, down where you don’t go swinging away, hacking things to bits. Cut the wrong bit, the whole tree dies. Thing is, being around as long as you have, you’ve ended up mixed up in some pretty serious stuff the last couple years. Gotten some pretty deep knowledge on your own. That’s what happens. You last long enough, you’re going to get sucked into some stuff. Period. Can’t get around that. There are only so many of us. Only so many who have some staying power. Sooner or later, you’re going to get involved. Just, for just a second, just think about who you met the last couple days. Think about the people you met last year. Think about the kind of juice those people squeeze. Think about, about the things you know now, about how stuff works, the things you didn’t know last year. Seriously, think.

He shuts up and watches me.

And I think.

I think about it. And it scares me.

He nods.

– Right? Got it? See what I mean? Hey, man, not everybody spends their time rapping with DJ Grave Digga and Dexter Predo and me and old lady Vandewater. And let’s not even talk about how you have something going with Daniel. Any idea how many people get a repeat audience with him? How many survive the first one? That is, you know, a very short list. You’re, whether you like it or not, and for lack of a better word, you’re becoming a player.

He raises a finger.

– And check this out. For every little detail you’ve picked up, there’s a whole mosaic attached to it. You just can’t see it yet. Keep going, you’re gonna see more. But, you being a Rogue and all, not everyone is going to be happy about your growing understanding of, you know, how we do things. A Rogue has no loyalty. You don’t know where he’s going to go, which way he’ll jump. That puts people, I don’t know, on edge. Joe, I’m not gonna lie, it harshes my mellow, too. A good mellow is hard to come by. Security, can’t pay enough to have it. And, well, that’s kind of it. If your knowing things, combined with your being a Rogue, if that unsettles people? Sooner or later someone’s going to deal with that. Screw the metaphors, someone’s going to put you in the sun. Like Tom. And for the same reason: because he was harshing everybody’s mellow.