Eva was the first to enter the tunnel; nearly at once she reversed thrust and recoiled backward into Reb, who was at her heels. A weapon she was not licensed to possess vanished from her hand. Jay had clearly coped. Even her atrophied sense of smell could detect the odors of burned metal and burned meat.
"Nice work," she said. "Remind me not to piss you off."
Jay's eyes met hers, but it took him a second or two to recognize her. "I got him," he said wonderingly.
That much was clear. The body that floated between them was so obviously a corpse that Eva's subconscious had ignored the gun it still clutched in one hand. Boiling brains leave a skull any way they can. Jay had a small smear of suet on his right cheek that must have burned him as it struck, but he didn't seem to be aware of it. Eva threaded her way through horrid drifting tendrils of brains and blood and took Jay in her arms. "That you did," she said soothingly, wiping his cheek. "That you did."
Rand arrived just then; at Eva's signal he left Jay to her. She gestured again, and he and Reb took charge of the body, towing it backstage, shooing its gore along with it.
Sure enough, Rhea and Colly were the next to arrive. At the alarm, all five uips had ducked for cover and their guards had clustered around them, and mere vips had struggled to get away from them, and Tokugawa and Martin had called for information—but Rhea and Colly had both realized they had family in the firezone. Rhea hadn't been able to stop her daughter, but had gotten—barely—ahead of her to shield her from possible fire. Eva moved so that she and Jay blocked their way. "He's fine," she said quickly. "Wait here for him."
Rhea was frantic. "I've got to—"
"You've got to wait here," Eva said, indicating Colly with her eyes.
"I—yes, okay." She got a firm grip on Colly. "He's really all right?"
"Not a scratch, truly."
"He saved my life," Jay said.
"And others," Eva agreed. "Both of you did. I'm surprised at you, Jay—I thought you had more sense than to be a hero."
"I had to," he said. "It was partly my fault."
She put a hand over his mouth. "He's delirious," she said to Rhea. "All the adrenalin." She turned back to Jay, put her lips to his ear. "As your attorney, I advise you to shut the hell up. You are not competent to assess blame."
He blinked at her. "You're not an attorney, Eva."
"The hell I'm not. I'm licensed for the High Court—and if you don't start zipping your lip I'm going to need to be. When they get here, you tell them facts only, get it? Facts only. You can draw conclusions when you're thinking more clearly. Okay?" She shook his shoulders. "Okay?"
"Sure, Eva. Facts only. That's good." She studied him carefully, decided he was not quite in shock in the medical sense—but close.
The tunnel went away; Rand must have reached the tech hole. Almost at once they were hip-deep in people, all talking at once—all five uips, assorted assistants and bodyguards, the Shimizu's security chief, the house physician. The loudest by a good margin was Martin. Eva bellowed for silence, but her tired old lungs weren't equal to the task.
Reb's amplified voice filled the theater like the voice of God. "Ladies and gentlemen, please compose yourselves. There is no longer any reason for alarm. An attempted assassination has failed, and the situation is under control. Please return to the foyer as quickly and quietly as you can; emergency personnel will be arriving and you are in their way. You will all receive a detailed report when things have clarified."
Rand's voice joined him. "Dancers, please join our guests in the foyer and escort them to the reception room. The rest of tonight's concert is canceled."
The tumult of attempted conversation became even louder—but at Martin's physical insistence, they at last began moving away, with Tokugawa in the lead. Rand told Rhea to take Colly back to their suite, and she agreed without argument. Dr. O'Regan and Chief Cruz remained behind. "Who was it?" Cruz asked.
"One of yours," Eva said. "Dunno which—he didn't have his face with him."
Cruz's face darkened. "I know which. Shit. Where'd they take him, the tech hole?"
"I think so." She turned to Jay. "Can you stand another look at the son of a bitch? Chief Cruz needs you to show her what happened."
"Oh sure," he said.
As they left the tunnel, they had to duck around tumbling bodies and a few severed limbs—but fortunately no more horrid trails of blood, as laser amputation tends to self-cauterize. Eva noticed how hard Cruz had to work to ignore the one in Shimizu livery.
Cruz made them wait briefly outside the tech hole. Two crime-scene technicians and three interns all arrived at once; she and the doctor went inside with them. The security chief emerged with Rand in less than a minute, scowling blackly. The conference took place there in the corridor. Cruz—mortified that one of her own people had been the killer—obviously wanted Eva gone, but did not dare try to chase her out. Eva did not even have to claim status as Jay's attorney of fact; a steely glance was all it took. She and Cruz had taken each other's measure a long time ago.
So she was able to ride herd on Jay. She was fond of the boy, and his raving about the attempted assassination being partly his fault had unsettled her. If Cruz had heard that, the questioning might well have taken place under drugs. At Eva's direction, Jay gave a baldly factual account of what had occurred. She spotted what he had meant as soon as he said it—"I told them to safety their damned weapons and continued on to the hole"—but of course no one else saw any blame in that. It was what anyone might have said in his place. She was glad she had gotten to him first.
"Pity you couldn't have taken him alive," Cruz said, when Jay had finished the story and Rand had added events from his perspective. "I hate to let someone kill a dozen people in my care without asking him who paid for it."
"I was dead," Jay said, "and then Rand gave me a split-second advantage. I didn't think about it. I grabbed his gun hand and made him shoot himself under the chin. I'd do it again."
"Oh, I wasn't criticizing! Do it again, if there's a next time."
Eva snorted at that. If Jay had not gotten lucky, Cruz would have had more dead—and perhaps a dead uip or two as well—and would have been looking for work tomorrow.
"I wish he was still alive too," Jay said. "So I could kill him again. Nika's . . . Nika was special." Suddenly he shook his head with great violence. "Jesus! Did that really happen?" He giggled.
"You've got everything you need for now, right, Chief?" Eva said.
Cruz frowned, but nodded. "I may want to hypno him tomorrow."
"Gotta wait for it to seep into long-term storage for hypno to do any good," she agreed. "Jeeves—"
"Yes, madam?" He shimmered into existence, urbane and unflappable.
"Take Mr. Sasaki home. My place, not his. Bunk him down in my bed and make me a doss in Guest Room Two."
"Very good, madam. If you would be good enough to follow me, sir . . ."
"Half a mo." She motioned Jay close and murmured in his ear. "Want Jacques to join you?"
He blinked at her and struggled with the question. Jacques's job description read, "hedonic technician"—but Eva happened to know that he was more artist than technician, a natural healer and comforter. "No," Jay said, and then, "I don't think so," and then he blushed slightly and said, "Uh . . . yes. Please."
She nodded. "Tell Jeeves. Run along now."
Once he was gone, she turned back to Cruz. "How did you know who the assassin was?"
"Eh?"
"You said, `I know which.' How did you know?"
"Oh. Savannavong only joined the force a month ago. I wouldn't have used him on this job, for that reason—but Hanh came down sick this afternoon and I was stretched thin."
"Savannavong was real good at making people come down sick," Rand said bitterly. "Hanh got lucky."
"So did you two," Cruz said. "You both reacted like trained cops. Either of you ever in service?"
"I did two years with NYPD. Draftee. But that was over twenty years ago, and I never drew my weapon in the line of duty. Jay's never had any kind of combat training, to my knowledge. We just kept making mistakes until the bastard was dead."
"You'd better get home," Eva said. "Your wife still doesn't know the details."
"Chief?"
"Go ahead."
Rand threw her a grateful glance and made his escape.
People were coming and going from the tech hole now, bringing in forensic equipment and taking out corpses. But they gave the glowering Chief Cruz a wide berth; for the moment Eva was effectively alone with her. "Does your thumb hurt, Chief?" Eva asked suddenly.
"Eh? Yes it does—why? How did you know?"
"Because I figure you for an honest cop. The moment that alarm sounded, an honest cop in your shoes would have pushed a button and flooded the whole damn theater and backstage area with sleepy gas."
"I did! Some son of a bitch had—"
"I know. It didn't work, so you kept pushing; that's why your thumb hurts."
Cruz nodded slowly. "I see." She thought some more. "Well, it wouldn't have helped anyway; the bastard obviously had nose filters in."
Eva nodded. "Like you do. But you didn't know that at the time. An honest cop couldn't have."
"But why disable the sleepy gas if he had filters?"
"So he'd have maximum confusion to escape in after he made his kill? Squawking civilians in all directions."
"God dammit, Eva—"
"Relax, Rani—I'm on your side. I know this whole episode makes you look like a horse's ass, but I can't think of anything you could've done better. And I'll tell Kate Tokugawa that, if you like. But if I were you, I'd have Dr. O'Regan document that thumb sprain."
She left Cruz and went to the reception, curious to see how the ultimately rich responded to a brush with death. Six cronkites ambushed her just outside the door, looking like children who needed to urinate; the first in line named a figure. "No comment," she said. He named a second figure, and when she refused that too, a bidding war developed. She brushed through them grandly and entered the hall. Guards prevented them from following; frustrated, they all jaunted off to file what little they already had.
The party had that slightly forced gaiety which screams of fear just past. But the uips themselves seemed the calmest people in the room—except for Reb, of course. In fact, the only person who still showed any overt signs of fear was Evelyn Martin, grinning and sweating and talking even faster than usual. He spotted her, detached himself and came over.
"Hi, Eva," he said loudly. "So glad you could make it." Sotto voce he added, "Anything else gone wrong out there? Any more assassins come to squeeze my ulcers? Fresh stiffs? Other major felonies? Chief Cruz find out the assassin is a High Council member or anything like that?"
"Good news," she said. "No news." Louder, she added. "Awful to see you, Evelyn. You're looking uglier than usual tonight."
He beamed. "Thank you, dear—-have you met our honored guests? Chen Ling Ho, for instance?"
"Get a grip, Evelyn. I introduced you to Ling. Why don't you go take a trank?"
"I'm at system max now," he said.
"Take stimulants, then. Your voice will rise above the audible range and you won't be so conspicuous." She drifted away, and joined her escort, Dr. Chen. He was chatting with Reb and Victoria Hathaway. Chen introduced her to Hathaway—who regarded her aged features with barely concealed horror.
"Hello, dear," Eva said. "It's nice to see you again."
"We've met?" Hathaway said, disbelieving but polite.
"I knew your grandmother. You peed on my lap once."
Hathaway gave the only possible reply: dead silence.
Chen intervened. "Eva, have they determined yet who was the assassin's intended target?"
She shrugged. "For all Cruz can tell at this point, he was a good guy, come to take out Evelyn Martin on behalf of all mankind."
That got a laugh; even Hathaway almost smiled. "I assume the man's background is being checked?"
Eva shrugged again. "Sure. But it's a waste of time. The background check you have to go through to get hired for Shimizu security can't be improved on. Serious money went into this." She made sure her gaze was not resting on either Chen or Hathaway. "I will bet cash the person who hired it done is in this room."
Hathaway flinched, but Chen only nodded. "The probability is high," he agreed.
"Was it you, Chen?" Hathaway asked bluntly.
Again Chen looked as if he were remembering what it felt like to smile. "Twelve dead, none of them the right one? I'm offended, Victoria. Can you truly believe me so inartistic?"
"Oh, but you can believe it of me, right?"
"Since you ask, yes. Now we are both offended. Shall we seek another topic of conversation?"
Eva had a mischievous thought. "Unless you'd like me to narrow the list of suspects for you," she said.
"How?" Chen and Hathaway and Reb all asked simultaneously.
"Well, only theoretically. I don't actually expect, uh, people of your caliber to submit to a body search. But I'll bet a dead frog the person who hired that killer is wearing nose filters. He or she knew the killer would be covering his escape with death gas, and might have been forced to flee past his employer. Nose filters that go in far enough to be invisible aren't easily removed."
Hathaway objected. "That wouldn't prove a thing. Any of us might be wearing nose filters out of simple paranoia. In light of events, it would seem an intelligent precaution."
Eva nodded. "But you're probably not all filtered. I said `narrow the list,' not nail it down. Irrelevant anyway; none of you will tolerate a search on principle—and I don't blame you."
"Then why did you bring it up?" Hathaway snapped.
Eva did not answer. But she was already enjoying the mental picture. As the word spread, the five would spend the next hour discreetly trying to peer up each other's nostrils. Victoria Hathaway might actually not look down her nose at anyone for the rest of the night.
Reb escorted her home. They took double-bulbs of Irish coffee to the window, and sat looking out at Mother Terra in companionable silence for some time.
"Jeeves," she said then, "is Jay awake?"
"He and Master Jacques are both sound asleep, madam."
"Thank you. Let me know if he wakes." He shimmered away again, and she turned to Reb. "That bedroom is soundproof anyhow."
Reb nodded. "Go ahead."
"I need a better cover story for him. About why I'm still using up air. Oh, you did a good job. But I heard his voice, and he didn't really buy it, deep down. I'm afraid I shot my mouth off to him about why I was planning to take a cab. He's not going to be satisfied with what you told him. And I don't know what else to say. The boy knows me too well. And he spent a whole month trying to change my mind: his pride demands a convincing explanation."
"Not just pride, Eva. He loves you."
"So what do I tell him? I can't tell him about—"
"No. I suggest you stall as long as possible. With everything that's happened tonight, he'll be too busy to remember the question for a few days. When he does, you can be unavailable for some additional time. It may be weeks before he has time and opportunity to brace you about it."
"And what then?"
"You tell him I promised you entertaining surprises were still in store for you—and proved it the very next day."
"And if he persists?"
"Let icicles form on your brow and tell him it's personal. A shame to hurt his feelings, of course, but I don't see what else you can do."
She sighed, and sipped her drink. "You're right. I can't tell him."
"No, you cannot. I should not have told you, Eva. But you are my oldest living friend, and I could not see you leave just before everything changed."
She found her eyes stinging, and shut up. They shared more silence for a time.
"Do you think it was Chen?" she asked at last.
"Behind tonight's violence, you mean? I don't know. What do you think?"
"I think an inartistic hit would be a very artistic touch indeed. But it's hard to refute his essential point. If he'd done it, it would have worked, however garishly."
"Apparently it was only by incredible chance that it didn't."
"And I tend to find incredible chance incredible. But I'd bet my life both Jay and Rand are straight." She glanced over her shoulder at the bedroom door. "You know what I mean. They're both honest."
"The gods have blessed us," Reb said cheerfully.
"They have?"
"Of course. How often does life hand you a really good puzzle?"
She blinked, and grinned. "You're right. Not often enough these days. I feel like a sixty-year-old again."