Etched in Bone
Page 59
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Eve smiled. “Then I’ll leave them with you and get to work.”
• • •
Meg called Henry, figuring that, as a sculptor, he would be the most interested member of the Business Association when it came to art supplies. And he was interested. She just hadn’t expected him to walk out of the Liaison’s Office with charcoal sticks, graphite pencils, the other sharpener and eraser, and a sketchbook—and a slip of paper that told him what he owed Eve Denby.
Before she had a chance to call, not only had word reached Simon and Vlad that she had something new and interesting, but Jake Crowgard had spread the news to the rest of the terra indigene in the Courtyard, and a steady stream of Crows, Hawks, Owls, and Wolves showed up to look at what was available.
By the time Meg closed the office for her midday break, all the art supplies were gone and she felt exhausted and overwhelmed—partly because she had ended up warning everyone away from the supplies she’d selected for Hope. She’d even leaned over them and growled a couple of times, which amused Vlad more than it did Simon.
No telling how long the interest in this kind of art would last, but for the moment, the Others were excited about exploring something new.
• • •
Monty didn’t break the silence that had filled the car ever since he and Kowalski headed out to patrol some of the streets in the Chestnut Street station’s district. Jimmy had recovered sufficiently from his inexplicable weakness and had gone off that morning “to explore his options.”
Monty knew all about his brother’s options. What he needed to know was if Jimmy’s presence was splintering his relationship with his men, his captain . . . and Simon Wolfgard.
Only one way to find out.
“Something you want to tell me?” he asked.
“Don’t want to,” Kowalski replied after a moment. “But have to, I guess. And it’s better if you’re the one who talks to Commander Gresh.”
Monty sat up straighter. “Why do I need to talk to the commander of the bomb squad?”
“He and his family are among the humans Simon Wolfgard is allowing to shop in the Market Square and buy food items as well as other goods.”
“Captain Burke is also included among those humans. Is that a problem?”
Kowalski breathed out, an audible sound. “With everyone putting in extra hours since that storm in early Sumor, shopping in the Market Square has been handy, you know? You come home from work, do some chores, buy some ground meat from the Courtyard’s butcher shop and a couple of rolls from A Little Bite, and have burgers with a salad or some of the vegetables from your share of the Green Complex garden. You buy eggs there because it’s easier than standing in line in the grocery store or butcher shop in the Bird Park Plaza and finding out the person ahead of you bought the last dozen—and then having to break up a fight between the woman who bought the last dozen and a woman trying to take them in order to bake her kid a birthday cake. And broken eggs end up on the floor, along with the women, and you, being an officer of the law, have to sort it out and arrest one or both.”
“You had to do that?”
“I broke up a fight like that a couple of days ago—after the eggs hit the floor and things really got nasty—but I was off duty at the time, so Officer Hilborn made the arrest.”
“Gods,” Monty muttered. Had his preoccupation with his own family distracted him so much that he hadn’t been aware of what was going on? “Are we going to have to quell riots?”
“If we do, it’s because people aren’t using the same sense and neighborly kindness they would have shown each other a few months ago,” Kowalski replied. “Before the Humans First and Last movement got everyone thinking that any time a shop runs out of something it’s a shortage and people are going to starve if they don’t hoard whatever they can grab off the shelves, those women might have fought over a dozen eggs. People do stupid things all the time. But more likely they would have been passing acquaintances—women who didn’t know each other outside of chatting in the shops while waiting their turn, but still people who would know a bit about each other. Instead of fighting over the eggs, they would have split the dozen so that the woman could bake a birthday cake for her kid. That’s what people would have done. That’s what most are still doing.”
“New people have run to the remaining human-controlled cities, looking for work and a place to live. They’ll be trying to buy rationed goods at the shops too, so it stands to reason that supplies won’t always match the demand for a while.”
“That concern about supply and demand isn’t limited to the human shops.”
Monty considered his partner’s body language. Kowalski was circling around something. “Just say it, Karl.”
“If we’re not careful, we may not be welcome in the Market Square stores much longer, and that’s going to make it harder on all of us.”
Monty sighed. “This is about Jimmy?”
“It’s about all of us. As for family . . .” Kowalski let out a bitter laugh. “Ruthie’s mother, the woman who loudly declared that her daughter was dead and called my Ruthie trash, rang her this morning and wanted Ruthie to buy her a ham—five or six pounds would do. After all, the freaks had plenty of meat and could just catch more if they ran out. When Ruthie said she couldn’t buy that much meat even if a ham was available . . .” He drove for a minute in silence. “I could hear her screaming at Ruthie halfway across the room, so I took the phone and hung up on the bitch.”
• • •
Meg called Henry, figuring that, as a sculptor, he would be the most interested member of the Business Association when it came to art supplies. And he was interested. She just hadn’t expected him to walk out of the Liaison’s Office with charcoal sticks, graphite pencils, the other sharpener and eraser, and a sketchbook—and a slip of paper that told him what he owed Eve Denby.
Before she had a chance to call, not only had word reached Simon and Vlad that she had something new and interesting, but Jake Crowgard had spread the news to the rest of the terra indigene in the Courtyard, and a steady stream of Crows, Hawks, Owls, and Wolves showed up to look at what was available.
By the time Meg closed the office for her midday break, all the art supplies were gone and she felt exhausted and overwhelmed—partly because she had ended up warning everyone away from the supplies she’d selected for Hope. She’d even leaned over them and growled a couple of times, which amused Vlad more than it did Simon.
No telling how long the interest in this kind of art would last, but for the moment, the Others were excited about exploring something new.
• • •
Monty didn’t break the silence that had filled the car ever since he and Kowalski headed out to patrol some of the streets in the Chestnut Street station’s district. Jimmy had recovered sufficiently from his inexplicable weakness and had gone off that morning “to explore his options.”
Monty knew all about his brother’s options. What he needed to know was if Jimmy’s presence was splintering his relationship with his men, his captain . . . and Simon Wolfgard.
Only one way to find out.
“Something you want to tell me?” he asked.
“Don’t want to,” Kowalski replied after a moment. “But have to, I guess. And it’s better if you’re the one who talks to Commander Gresh.”
Monty sat up straighter. “Why do I need to talk to the commander of the bomb squad?”
“He and his family are among the humans Simon Wolfgard is allowing to shop in the Market Square and buy food items as well as other goods.”
“Captain Burke is also included among those humans. Is that a problem?”
Kowalski breathed out, an audible sound. “With everyone putting in extra hours since that storm in early Sumor, shopping in the Market Square has been handy, you know? You come home from work, do some chores, buy some ground meat from the Courtyard’s butcher shop and a couple of rolls from A Little Bite, and have burgers with a salad or some of the vegetables from your share of the Green Complex garden. You buy eggs there because it’s easier than standing in line in the grocery store or butcher shop in the Bird Park Plaza and finding out the person ahead of you bought the last dozen—and then having to break up a fight between the woman who bought the last dozen and a woman trying to take them in order to bake her kid a birthday cake. And broken eggs end up on the floor, along with the women, and you, being an officer of the law, have to sort it out and arrest one or both.”
“You had to do that?”
“I broke up a fight like that a couple of days ago—after the eggs hit the floor and things really got nasty—but I was off duty at the time, so Officer Hilborn made the arrest.”
“Gods,” Monty muttered. Had his preoccupation with his own family distracted him so much that he hadn’t been aware of what was going on? “Are we going to have to quell riots?”
“If we do, it’s because people aren’t using the same sense and neighborly kindness they would have shown each other a few months ago,” Kowalski replied. “Before the Humans First and Last movement got everyone thinking that any time a shop runs out of something it’s a shortage and people are going to starve if they don’t hoard whatever they can grab off the shelves, those women might have fought over a dozen eggs. People do stupid things all the time. But more likely they would have been passing acquaintances—women who didn’t know each other outside of chatting in the shops while waiting their turn, but still people who would know a bit about each other. Instead of fighting over the eggs, they would have split the dozen so that the woman could bake a birthday cake for her kid. That’s what people would have done. That’s what most are still doing.”
“New people have run to the remaining human-controlled cities, looking for work and a place to live. They’ll be trying to buy rationed goods at the shops too, so it stands to reason that supplies won’t always match the demand for a while.”
“That concern about supply and demand isn’t limited to the human shops.”
Monty considered his partner’s body language. Kowalski was circling around something. “Just say it, Karl.”
“If we’re not careful, we may not be welcome in the Market Square stores much longer, and that’s going to make it harder on all of us.”
Monty sighed. “This is about Jimmy?”
“It’s about all of us. As for family . . .” Kowalski let out a bitter laugh. “Ruthie’s mother, the woman who loudly declared that her daughter was dead and called my Ruthie trash, rang her this morning and wanted Ruthie to buy her a ham—five or six pounds would do. After all, the freaks had plenty of meat and could just catch more if they ran out. When Ruthie said she couldn’t buy that much meat even if a ham was available . . .” He drove for a minute in silence. “I could hear her screaming at Ruthie halfway across the room, so I took the phone and hung up on the bitch.”
