Chapter 74
She didn't like that, and she didn't like the mayor either. Luke Kovacs was a tall, thin man with a sallow, cadaverous face with a five o'clock shadow that wasn't cultivated. He also had plenty of hair on his hands, and a few tendrils sprouting from the front of an unb.u.t.toned s.h.i.+rt. There was none on his head: the bald dome gleamed evilly in the sunlight. As if to compensate, the few lanky strands that survived were long enough to curl on his collar. He had deeply sunk, hooded eyes and a mouth like a razor slash. Amanda could see he wasn't going to be easy to deal with.
She wasn't so sure about the sheriff. He was a chubby guy with a mustache like an old hairbrush. He was smiling at her in an easy-going, aw-shucks kind of way, but there was a glitter of ice in the slitted eyes.
"So you're the famous Amanda Queen," said the mayor, and his voice was unexpectedly deep and rich. Amanda the singer knew a things or two about voices. Luke Kovacs had a beautiful voice, completely at odds with his looks. She could see or rather hear how he'd become the mayor of Skykomish.
"Genuine article," she said lightly, and tried her appreciative smile on him. It didn't work.
"Luke Kovacs," he said sourly. "And this man here is Brian Madison, sheriff. Jeffrey tells us you have a business proposition. We're listening."
"It's more than a business proposition," Amanda said. "It's an offer."
"We're listening."
"We're set to establish one of the biggest colonies in the New World. Possibly the biggest. We're asking you to join us."
"Become part of your colony?" asked Kovacs.
"Yes."
"No thanks."
"You might want to think about it," Amanda said.
"There's nothing to think about," said sheriff Madison, and Kovacs threw him an appreciative glance.
"There," he said, turning back to Amanda, "He said it. But I also understand you have salt for sale. We can do business there. We'll pay you in silver or gold or both, whichever you like best. Deal?"
Amanda was silent. She could feel Sharon watching her, and she knew her reputation was at stake.
"I'd first like to know why you don't want to join us," she said. "If I decide you have valid reasons - then we can discuss deals."
There! She turned the tables on those a.s.sholes in an instant. She was back in charge.
"Okay," said Kovacs, after a pause. "I'll spell it out for you. These two gentlemen here like the idea of running an independent colony. And I am fully supportive. You see, I happen to be their district governor. I combine the offices of mayor of our town and district governor of the corresponding territory in the New World. Much larger, if truth be known. Do you know Evan Vanderhorn? The Was.h.i.+ngton State senator? I do. We're good friends. Evan is state governor in the New World. You started your colony from Seattle, he's your state governor too. You want to pick a fight with all of us? Or you want to do a deal? I can't make it any simpler."
Amanda stared at him for a while. Then she turned to look at Jeffrey, who was hovering to the side with a nervous smile.
"Thank you for your hospitality and the magnificent food, Jeffrey," she said. She turned to Sharon and said:
"It's time we got going. If we ride hard, we could still make it to Seattle before nightfall."
"We're leaving like, right now?"
"Yes," said Amanda. She looked over her shoulder at Kovacs.
"I'm sure your friend Evan Vanderhorn can fix you up with all the salt you need," she told him. "Goodbye."
She nodded to the sheriff and went back inside the house. Sharon followed her, a little reluctantly Amanda thought, so the moment they were alone she said:
"We're leaving in five minutes, so you'd better get ready fast if you want some time with your cousin."
"Amanda, I - "
"Get going."
It took Amanda under a minute to gather up her belongings and straighten out a couple of things in the room: she wanted to leave it exactly as she'd found it. But Sharon was even faster than her; Amanda could hear her going down the stairs just
When she left the house, she saw Sharon talking animatedly to Jeffrey in the center of the front yard. The sheriff and the mayor were still present. They had parked their b.u.t.ts inside the parked police car, with the sheriff behind the wheel. It didn't seem like they were preparing to leave, Amanda could see they were talking and smoking up a storm in there, the air was blue even though they'd cracked the windows open.
Jeffrey had glanced at Amanda when he heard the front door open and he split with a long, loping stride before she could join him and Sharon. Sharon watched him go, then turned to Amanda and said:
"He's gone to get our bikes from the shed."
"Good," said Amanda.
Sharon hissed with exasperation. She said:
"Couldn't we spend one more night here? Then we could leave early in the morning, and get home before dark without busting our a.s.ses on the way."
"No," said Amanda.
Sharon maintained a hurt silence until Jeffrey returned, pus.h.i.+ng the bikes.
"Here you go," he said, tilting Amanda's bike towards her. She made him wait by strapping on her helmet and pulling on her gloves before reaching for the bike.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for everything."
Her tone made it clear the 'everything' included the talk with Kovacs as well as bed and board.
"I'm sorry you came all that way for nothing," said Jeffery. Amanda heard a crafty note in his voice, and sure enough, he added:
"Maybe we could at least make a deal on the salt. What do you say? Gold and silver or copper or iron or whatever you want. We can sell you ore, we can sell you smelted bars. h.e.l.l, in a few weeks' time we can even pay you with money. Gold and silver coins. Minted to the new currency standards, you can transfer and use them back home. What do you say?"
"I say that you guys made a mistake," Amanda told him. "I say it's a mistake you'll regret. Starting now, because there won't be any salt deals. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," she heard him say when she was already pedaling away and down the driveway to the street.
For a while she was afraid Sharon wasn't following her. When she finally saw Sharon's bike in her rear view mirror, she felt huge relief.
She stopped when she came to the railway bridge and waited for Sharon to join her. Then she said:
"Well, that turned out to be a total washout, Sharon."
"I'm sorry. I honestly thought it would work out. It's those two guys, the sheriff and the mayor. Jeffrey would have joined us if it wasn't for them."
"Have you met them before?"
"No, that was the first time. I hadn't seen Jeffrey for a while. I'm not even sure they were in office last time I visited. I'm sorry."
Amanda sighed.
"It's all right," she lied. "Don't worry about it. Now listen, we're taking a different route home. We'll stick to the road this time. It might be the longer way but it won't take us more time, maybe even less, than following the trails. We'll be going faster on a paved road."
"Okay," said Sharon. She seemed ready to agree with anything Amanda said.
"By the way, have you checked in on the girls in the New World? I had them muted all along."
Sharon looked fl.u.s.tered. She said:
"I tried a couple of times this morning. But there was just no connection. I was to try again later, but you know how things turned out."
"I certainly do," said Amanda. "Hang on a minute."
She took off her helmet and ma.s.saged the skin over her implant. Nothing happened. She rubbed harder. Nothing happened.
"f.u.c.k," she said.
"You aren't getting anything either?" asked Sharon.
"It's like you said. There's no connection any more."
"Oh f.u.c.k. What will we do?"
"First things first. Let's get home as fast as we can."
Luckily for them, the beautiful weather held for the rest of the day. The long, glorious sunset meant they reached the city before it had gotten dark.
They saw right away that the streets were busier than they had ever been since the catastrophe. There were people out for a walk, a stroll without any purpose other than to stretch their legs. Of course, the weather was a major draw. But Amanda also noticed that a number of stores were open, even if conspicuously empty of customers. And before they got home, they saw two private cars on the road. Both at least fifty years old, but seemingly in very good working order.
The driver of the first car Amanda encountered definitely proved he had very good brakes: he came to a screeching stop with the fender almost touching the bike's front wheel. He had been coasting in neutral gear and she hadn't heard him coming, and of course didn't expect a private car. The army vehicles could be heard a long way off: at home she could hear the clatter of steel tracks from an expressway a couple of kilometers away. Luckily, vehicles on tracks had been banned from entering residential areas. They weren't initially, but it quickly transpired the steel tracks tore the road surface into shreds.
There were no less than four lights on in the front windows of Amanda's home, and she frowned: she'd told the girls to conserve electricity. It took a while to get the gate open; the electronic lock had been fried, luckily while left open, during the electromagnetic storm. There were two padlocks on two separate, heavy chains: unlocking and locking the entrance took the best part of five minutes.
During that time, Sharon stood silently by Amanda's side, which was highly unusual. Sharon couldn't keep her mouth shut for more than a minute unless specifically asked to do so. The standard Sharon would have been prattling away about the trip, even though it had been far from successful. Something was afoot.
"What's the matter, Sharon?" Amanda asked. "Something bothering you?"
"I think I saw a man in one of the windows when we arrived. It was just a glimpse and I'm not sure but whoever it was, it wasn't one of the girls. Unless she had a total makeover or something."
"Well, let's find out," Amanda said. "Let's put the bikes away first. We'll go in through the garage."
They didn't. Before they reached the garage, the front door opened and Fiona Fizz appeared. She looked really scared to see Amanda. But before Amanda could ask her about that, Fiona was joined by a guy.
The guy was nearly two meters tall and seemed to be almost as wide: he had a beer-tank belly capable of handling several gallons at a time. He had long, dirty dark hair and a long, dirty beard, and wore a jean vest over a black leather biking jacket. Lower down, the order was reversed: black leather chaps over jeans, and boots with enough straps and buckles to harness a couple of horses.
"You must be Amanda Queen," he said. He had a voice like a throat cancer survivor, all rasp and wheeze.
"I am. And you are?"
"Ron Pierce. President of the Bandidos Seattle chapter. You and me, we got to have a serious talk."
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