It was two days later before the final arrangements were made and Hassan was ready to leave. She left a series of instructions in her various off-site memory stacks, things to do in case she should be out of contact for such-and-such amount of time, and in case of unconfirmed and confirmed death. Jimmy Hawkins, short man of indeterminate description though he was, had been busily seeing to his own affairs, arranging for the pickup of various items including her close-protection Baley. The Baley was standing next to her as she closed the door and locked it behind her, a tall, craggy yet slim man dressed in the Baley uniform of black morning dress. They had only met a few hours ago at the CHONP restaurant outside of the local Baley's office, and she had been impressed by his professionalism and insight.
"The Boss wanted me to say thank you," he said, after introducing himself simply as Kelly. He spoke with a certain studied thuggish quality, which slipped on and off unpredictably. "What for, he didn't say. I didn't ask."
"Ah. Well, when you get the chance, thank him in return." She noted, as she had before whenever she interacted with a Baley, that they all spoke of the Head of the Baleys with mixed tones of fear and love, a sort of paternal awe that denied them the ability to speak his taken name. "Ezra is always a pleasure to do business with."
Kelly grunted, though whether with affront, pleasure or simply surprise was unknowable from his carefully cultivated stoicism. Hassan waved over a waiter, who took her order of a plain salad. Kelly only shook his head. "This job is just a token."
"That word again," Hassan muttered to herself. Then, to Kelly, she said, "How do you mean? My job? Your job?"
"Mine," said Kelly. "If these . . . whoever they are, really wanted to protect you, they'd have hired more of us. One man for close protection? That's a joke for even a saint. It's a five person job, minimum, bare-bones cheap minimum." He reached into his coat and pulled out a tin. He pulled out a piece of red candy and returned the tin to his coat pocket before biting down hard and swallowing. "So I'm here to lend the good name of Baley, a tin shield, and to die a few seconds before you pop off."
"Think it'll come to that?"
Kelly looked away from her, his eyes slowly scanning the restaurant district, taking in the stands, kiosks, bistros and cafes. "Pass. They want you, they want you bad. Maybe they want you so bad that they'll do everything to keep you wheverer it is we're going, including killing you."
"So clues as to where we're going?"
"And don't think I didn't give hell to the station chief for that. Nah, these people, this John Raven--and christ, what a name--and whoever's with him have gotten a pass from the higher ups for this." He sat then, staring at her, then at the surroundings, then back at her, as if confirming anew every few seconds that she was, in fact, alive. "I looked him up and found nothing. You?"
"The same. Some things on Modern State but all public literature."
"Yeah. Modern State did some business with us on the First Bank of Sol and I talked with some fellas that worked on that. They said that these Modern State people were normal, everyday Fens. Nothing stood out. One thing they did say was that they all worked for Modern State, down, up and side to side. Very Ford, very vertically integrated; no subcontracting."
"Hmm."
They sat in silence together, each mulling over their thoughts. Finally, Kelly spoke again. "The worrying thing, the really worrying thing, isn't that Raven guy having so little said about him."
"Ah?"
"Nah, it's that whoever's with him, behind him, whatever, are using him as the mouthpiece, the go-between, the face. Whoever's with him or behind him or above him . . . whoever they are, it's not going to be small."
"Ah."
After this, they said nothing as she finished her salad, went back home to pack, and then entered Hawkins ship to leave.
"The Boss wanted me to say thank you," he said, after introducing himself simply as Kelly. He spoke with a certain studied thuggish quality, which slipped on and off unpredictably. "What for, he didn't say. I didn't ask."
"Ah. Well, when you get the chance, thank him in return." She noted, as she had before whenever she interacted with a Baley, that they all spoke of the Head of the Baleys with mixed tones of fear and love, a sort of paternal awe that denied them the ability to speak his taken name. "Ezra is always a pleasure to do business with."
Kelly grunted, though whether with affront, pleasure or simply surprise was unknowable from his carefully cultivated stoicism. Hassan waved over a waiter, who took her order of a plain salad. Kelly only shook his head. "This job is just a token."
"That word again," Hassan muttered to herself. Then, to Kelly, she said, "How do you mean? My job? Your job?"
"Mine," said Kelly. "If these . . . whoever they are, really wanted to protect you, they'd have hired more of us. One man for close protection? That's a joke for even a saint. It's a five person job, minimum, bare-bones cheap minimum." He reached into his coat and pulled out a tin. He pulled out a piece of red candy and returned the tin to his coat pocket before biting down hard and swallowing. "So I'm here to lend the good name of Baley, a tin shield, and to die a few seconds before you pop off."
"Think it'll come to that?"
Kelly looked away from her, his eyes slowly scanning the restaurant district, taking in the stands, kiosks, bistros and cafes. "Pass. They want you, they want you bad. Maybe they want you so bad that they'll do everything to keep you wheverer it is we're going, including killing you."
"So clues as to where we're going?"
"And don't think I didn't give hell to the station chief for that. Nah, these people, this John Raven--and christ, what a name--and whoever's with him have gotten a pass from the higher ups for this." He sat then, staring at her, then at the surroundings, then back at her, as if confirming anew every few seconds that she was, in fact, alive. "I looked him up and found nothing. You?"
"The same. Some things on Modern State but all public literature."
"Yeah. Modern State did some business with us on the First Bank of Sol and I talked with some fellas that worked on that. They said that these Modern State people were normal, everyday Fens. Nothing stood out. One thing they did say was that they all worked for Modern State, down, up and side to side. Very Ford, very vertically integrated; no subcontracting."
"Hmm."
They sat in silence together, each mulling over their thoughts. Finally, Kelly spoke again. "The worrying thing, the really worrying thing, isn't that Raven guy having so little said about him."
"Ah?"
"Nah, it's that whoever's with him, behind him, whatever, are using him as the mouthpiece, the go-between, the face. Whoever's with him or behind him or above him . . . whoever they are, it's not going to be small."
"Ah."
After this, they said nothing as she finished her salad, went back home to pack, and then entered Hawkins ship to leave.