Virginia looked at her husband appraisingly. But all she said to Norvie was, “You better keep an eye on that gun. Alexandra tried to sneak out with my kitchen knife today.”
“Eh?” said Norvie, jolted.
“That’s right. Put on quite a scene,” her mother said, almost admiringly. “She’s getting hi with the Goering Grenadiers and it seems they pack knives and guns. They look down on the Wabbits and their busted bottles.”
Norvie took another pull at the ration-jack. He said vaguely, “Does she have to do that?”
Shep said grimly, “If she wants to stay alive she does. Get it straight, Norvie, will you? This is Belly Rave. Not a finishing school. It’s a permanent Field Day, only without rules.”
Now there was something he knew something about, Norvell thought, brightening. “You ever go hi for a Field Day?” he asked eagerly.
“Nope. Just the weeklies.”
“Oh, you ought to, Shep. That’s where the real money is. And it’s not very dangerous, if you play it smart. Take spear-carrying in SpiUane’s Inferno, for instance. Safe as houses.
And, from the artistic side, let me tell you from experience that——” ^——
“Caek on spear-carrying, Bligh,” Shep said, with a wire edge in his voice. “I don’t do that any more. I’ve been there, sticking the poor slobs who fall off the high wire before they reach the blonde. I’ve been on the wire myself, too. Once.” He reached for the ration-jack, his face blank. “She missed me with all eight shots. I fractured her femur with my first. And then I dropped the gun.” He took a huge drink. “They booed me. I didn’t get the killer’s bonus. I didn’t get the midriff bonus or the navel superbonus. I didn’t want them. All I wanted was some brushes, some canvas, some graphite sticks and some colors. I got them, Bligh, and I found out I couldn’t use them. For six god-damned months. Then for six months more I couldn’t paint anything except her face when the slug hit her thigh and she fell off the perch.”
Norvell said, “Oh.” He contemplated the ration-jack bottle with distaste. He got to his feet, weaving slightly. “I—I think I want some air,” he said. “Excuse me, folks.”
“Certainly,” said Virginia, not even looking at him. As Norvell went out the door he heard her ask Shep, “This blonde you shot—was she pretty?”
Chapter Fourteen
mundin was not followed from the Stock Exchange.
He got to Belly Rave by late afternoon, his share of G.M.L. Common securely ducked in a pocket Ryan was coherent and jubilant.
“Ah,” exclaimed Ryan. “One share voting. The meeting is tomorrow. And accessory before the fact to simple assault A good day’s, Counselor.”
“I hope so,” said Mundin, worn from the reaction of the morning’s work and fretful. “I hope this share is going to be enough to get me in. What if it isn’t entered, or they challenge
it?” Ryan said comfortably, “They cant. Id cerium est quid
reddi potest, Counselor.”
“Oh, of course, Counselor,” glared Mundin. “But affirmantis est probatio, you know.”
Ryan blinked and grinned. “Score one for your side,” he said amiably. “Well, hell, Mundin, all you can do is go up there flat-footed and happy. The stock’s your ticket of admission. If they won’t let you in we’ll have to think of something else, that’s all.”
Mundin said dubiously, “You’ve been right so far, I suppose.” He stood up and took a turn around the dingy room, tripping over Don Lavin’s feet. “Sorry,” he said shortly to the sprawling youth, trying not to look at the staring, shining eyes. Don Lavin gave him the willies. And there was the excellent chance, he realized, that what had happened to Don Lavin might sooner or later happen to himself, if he persisted in sticking his nose into the corporate meatgrinders.
Mundin asked, “Nothing new about Norma, I suppose?”
Ryan shook his head. “They won’t slip up, Mundin. You’ll have to pry her loose from them tomorrow. Wish I could go-with you ——”
“Oh, by all means do,” Mundin said. “Love to have you. You’ll like Morristown, it’s so much like Belly Rave.”
“I’d never stand the trip. You’ll have to play it yourself, Counselor. I have confidence in you, boy. Just keep your head, and remember the essential nature of a great private utility corporation.”