“Arkadin?”
“Baron?”
“Show the outlanders to theguest wing.”
“Fell in, Baron.”
“Fell in!”
“In the canyon.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“That was the health-club annex, stupe!”
“No. That went more recent, Baron.”
“There’s that balcony room with the picture of the owl on the wall. Along from us,” Bessie said, her colorless eyes still fixed on Ryan.
“Owl picture fell down, Miss Bessie,” Arkadin replied.
“Well, a big poo to you,” she said, stamping her foot hard on the wooden floor.
“Yes, sure thing, Miss Bessie.” His lips clamped into a straight line. “But I guess I know the room you mean.”
He turned to the baron. “That one?”
“Yes, yes.” He waved a pudgy, beringed hand at Arkadin. “Be fine. But as soon as you seen them settled, I want you back here faster than a turd down a greased pipe.”
“Sure thing.”
“Can we go with them, Dadsy?” Cissie asked, clapping her hands together.
“No. Me and my little girls got some talkin’ to do before the meal.”
He dismissed them with another wave, watching as Arkadin led them back to the door and out into the lobby.
A FADED PICTURE OF AN OWL leaned up against the wall of the room.
Arkadin waved a hand. “No running water in the bath or the shitter. Went a long ways back. And I wouldn’t be happy stepping out on that balcony.”
There were two beds, one with worm-eaten legs that lay at a crooked angle. Ryan walked past it and carefully opened the double doors onto the oak balcony. He felt the floor creak and noticed a wide crack along the wall at his side.
“Fireblast!”
Trader crossed the room to stand by him. “What ails you, brother Willard?”
“You’re Willard. I’m Danny,” Ryan said, grinning at Arkadin. “Got a big rock on his head when he was a boy. Still gets a bit scrambled.” He turned to look out the window. “I was just thinking that if all three of us jumped up and down at the same time, I reckon this whole place could end in the river.”
The view was staggering. The first sensation was of amazement at the optical illusion that the balcony actually hung over the edge of a thousand-foot drop, sheer down to the glittering bracelet of the river.
The second sensation was the sick awareness that it wasn’t an optical illusion.
The balcony really did hang out over the edge of the undercut, eroded canyon.
Trader whistled. “I want a piss in the night, I’ll find somewhere else to go.”
Ryan swallowed hard. Vertigo wasn’t normally any kind of a problem for him, but their bedroom in Hightower was something else.
Arkadin slapped him on the shoulder. “Look like you just seen the ghost of your death.”
Ryan managed a sickly smile. “That drop is Yeah. How long before we eat this supper?”
“Time enough. I’ll call for you. Food’s better than you’d expect from the rest of the ville. Baron Torrance values his meals above all. All except his little girls.”
Trader sat on the edge of the unbroken bed. “Yeah. His little girls. Shit, Andy, the one could be my mother. What goes on with them?”
The sec man paused at the door of the room. “Like I said before. Careless talk can easy buy you a ticket on the last nuke out of town. Keep your mouth buttoned tight, Willard. Baron’s not a well man. Terrified about swimming the black river and leaving his little girls helpless and the ville unprotected. Doesn’t trust any of us from Hightower. Been sending out trailers all across the land. See if there was any wanted the job.”
“Job?” Ryan asked, not understanding.
“Yeah. Trailers asked for husbands for Bessie and Cissie. Never got the right reply. Oh, plenty of men turned up. Doesn’t matter how poor a ville is, there’ll always But the girls never seemed to take to them.”
“Long as they don’t take to us,” Trader said, lying back, crossing his legs, wincing a little at the pain from his bruised thigh.
The sec man opened his mouth, as if he were going to say something. Then he changed his mind and closed it again. He waved and went out, closing the door firmly behind him.