here.’’
Singe could not stay away. She turned up to ask, ‘‘What did the principal have to say?’’
‘‘He said do the job. Stop coming round getting underfoot. Come back when it’s done. Go have a beer. I’m busy here.’’
‘‘You have a room. You do not have to mate in the hallway.’’
Tinnie snickered into my neck.
The woman is shameless when it suits her.
My partner amazed me by favoring discretion. I heard nothing from him.
Dean did appear to offer us an evening meal.
Singe saw the lay of the land. Sullen, she went back to one of her private projects.
‘‘What’s her problem?’’ Tinnie asked. ‘‘She trying to seduce you again?’’
‘‘That was just a phase. Adolescent fantasy. She got over it. Now she thinks she’s a storyteller. She says she’s written a book about me. And now she needs some interesting stories to put in it.’’
‘‘I should get together with her. I could tell her about you before you met.’’
‘‘I’m sure you could. And I’m just as sure that she don’t need any more ideas than what she’s got.’’
A faint fragrance of amusement tainted the psychic air momentarily. Old Bones no doubt conceiving a wicked notion that could find life only at my expense.
There was no one in the hallway but Tinnie and me now. And she was having no trouble with the invisible eye that’s always there when the Dead Man is awake.
It didn’t take her long to make me forget, either.
She’s got skills, that girl.
17
The brain trust had gathered. Singe. Playmate. Saucerhead. John Stretch. With Old Bones in the background, ready to kibitz. Tinnie was in the doorway. She leaned against its frame in an indifferent, sluttish pose wasted on everybody. Me included. She wasn’t happy about that.
Would you care to direct your thoughts in a less prurientdirection?
I said, ‘‘We need to brainstorm the situation at the World. Our efforts yesterday may not have done much more than stir up the bugs.’’
Saucerhead observed, ‘‘It’s freaking hard to get the bugs out of anywhere. Mice and rats, same thing. You wipe out the mess you got, another one moves in.’’
It is notoriously difficult to remove vermin and keep them removed. This instance will be no exception. But it should prove less difficult than the sort of general debugging you would find familiar. There will be a finite number of these mutant insects. Though that could be a large number. A sustained effort should destroy them faster than they can breed.
He was giving this more thought than he pretended.
You are correct, Garrett. Though not in the way you think.
I glimpsed something I didn’t have the mental capacity to grasp. A three-dimensional mind map of the universe in the earth around and under the World. Developed, with John Stretch’s help, from the minds of rats that had gone down there and had brought back memories of sights and smells. Especially smells.
John Stretch assures me that regular rats count on their sense of smell more than dogs do. Thus the thing inside the Dead Man’s mind was a visualized translation of information collected mainly by rat snoots.
Rats are crafty. But rats aren’t much smarter than a sack of hammers. I wasn’t ready to bet my life, fortune, and sacred honor on what my sidekick could put together from their mad, crippled rodent memories.
I said, ‘‘We could handle this whole thing fast if we could dump a million gallons of water into the warrens under the World.’’
Flooding the bug tunnels was an obvious move. Figuring out how to deliver the flood was not.
‘‘How about poison gas?’’ Playmate asked. ‘‘Some kinds would sink down into the bug warrens the way water would.’’
‘‘Like?’’
‘‘Fumes from burning sulfur.’’
John Stretch said, ‘‘I would like to try rats again. Using more of them.’’
The Dead Man touched me privately. Allow John Stretch the effort. Insisting on a much larger effort. Ten thousand rats if
Singe could not stay away. She turned up to ask, ‘‘What did the principal have to say?’’
‘‘He said do the job. Stop coming round getting underfoot. Come back when it’s done. Go have a beer. I’m busy here.’’
‘‘You have a room. You do not have to mate in the hallway.’’
Tinnie snickered into my neck.
The woman is shameless when it suits her.
My partner amazed me by favoring discretion. I heard nothing from him.
Dean did appear to offer us an evening meal.
Singe saw the lay of the land. Sullen, she went back to one of her private projects.
‘‘What’s her problem?’’ Tinnie asked. ‘‘She trying to seduce you again?’’
‘‘That was just a phase. Adolescent fantasy. She got over it. Now she thinks she’s a storyteller. She says she’s written a book about me. And now she needs some interesting stories to put in it.’’
‘‘I should get together with her. I could tell her about you before you met.’’
‘‘I’m sure you could. And I’m just as sure that she don’t need any more ideas than what she’s got.’’
A faint fragrance of amusement tainted the psychic air momentarily. Old Bones no doubt conceiving a wicked notion that could find life only at my expense.
There was no one in the hallway but Tinnie and me now. And she was having no trouble with the invisible eye that’s always there when the Dead Man is awake.
It didn’t take her long to make me forget, either.
She’s got skills, that girl.
17
The brain trust had gathered. Singe. Playmate. Saucerhead. John Stretch. With Old Bones in the background, ready to kibitz. Tinnie was in the doorway. She leaned against its frame in an indifferent, sluttish pose wasted on everybody. Me included. She wasn’t happy about that.
Would you care to direct your thoughts in a less prurientdirection?
I said, ‘‘We need to brainstorm the situation at the World. Our efforts yesterday may not have done much more than stir up the bugs.’’
Saucerhead observed, ‘‘It’s freaking hard to get the bugs out of anywhere. Mice and rats, same thing. You wipe out the mess you got, another one moves in.’’
It is notoriously difficult to remove vermin and keep them removed. This instance will be no exception. But it should prove less difficult than the sort of general debugging you would find familiar. There will be a finite number of these mutant insects. Though that could be a large number. A sustained effort should destroy them faster than they can breed.
He was giving this more thought than he pretended.
You are correct, Garrett. Though not in the way you think.
I glimpsed something I didn’t have the mental capacity to grasp. A three-dimensional mind map of the universe in the earth around and under the World. Developed, with John Stretch’s help, from the minds of rats that had gone down there and had brought back memories of sights and smells. Especially smells.
John Stretch assures me that regular rats count on their sense of smell more than dogs do. Thus the thing inside the Dead Man’s mind was a visualized translation of information collected mainly by rat snoots.
Rats are crafty. But rats aren’t much smarter than a sack of hammers. I wasn’t ready to bet my life, fortune, and sacred honor on what my sidekick could put together from their mad, crippled rodent memories.
I said, ‘‘We could handle this whole thing fast if we could dump a million gallons of water into the warrens under the World.’’
Flooding the bug tunnels was an obvious move. Figuring out how to deliver the flood was not.
‘‘How about poison gas?’’ Playmate asked. ‘‘Some kinds would sink down into the bug warrens the way water would.’’
‘‘Like?’’
‘‘Fumes from burning sulfur.’’
John Stretch said, ‘‘I would like to try rats again. Using more of them.’’
The Dead Man touched me privately. Allow John Stretch the effort. Insisting on a much larger effort. Ten thousand rats if
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