quick smile to the mayor still hovering hopefully on the outskirts of the conversation. Hartmann's eyes slid thoughtfully across the ace. "Still.... Allow me to offer you Mr. Ray, my faithful justice Department watchdog."
Kien tensed, and exchanged a glance with his expressionless attorney. Roulette wondered if the lawyer's face ever displayed anything other than cold calculation.
"That would be fine-"
"Sir," Ray interrupted. "My job is to guard you, and meaning no offense, you're a hell of a lot more important than some stamps."
"Thank you for your concern, Billy, but your job is whatever the hell I tell you it is, and I'm telling you to help Mr. Latham." The senator didn't seem so charming now. The ace shrugged and capitulated.
"Thank you, Senator," Kien murmured softly, and he and Latham faded back through the chairs, drawing Billy Ray with them.
"Now, where were we?" The smile was pinned firmly back into place. "Oh, I remember, talking about your tremendous contributions."
Roulette pressed her shoulder urgently against Tachyon's, with a display of that disconcerting sensitivity he understood. "Ah, Senator, I see someone with whom I must speak. Adieu for the moment. Madam, will you walk?" He rose, offered his arm to Roulette, and they moved quickly to the other side of the stand.
A tide of humanity lapped at the edge of the stand, and stretched away in a great undulating wave, filling the square before Jetboy's Tomb. Behind them loomed the tomb itself, huge flanged wings reaching to heaven. Through the tall narrow windows she could see the full-size replica of the JB-i suspended from the ceiling. And out front the twenty-foot-tall Jetboy stared aloofly over the heads of the crowd.
"Curious little drama we witnessed," remarked Tachyon. "Yes. "
He leaned back, looking up at her. "And you don't like the senator. Why?"
"Because I suspect he has an interest in the companies backing that multi-million-dollar boondoggle he was discussing with such relish."
"It sounded like it would help the people in Zaire."
"Hardly. It's been designed so no power can be siphoned off to provide services to the people living along its 1,100-mile line. It's basically a billion-dollar project to give money to that thug Mobutu, and to line the pockets of various large international corporations, and to make vast amounts of money in the form of interest for a number of large Western banks. It does fuck-all for the people of Zaire who will continue to live at a subsistence level despite one of the greatest repositories of mineral wealth on the continent."
"Roulette, you're wonderful."
She spun to face him. "If you're about to tell me how beautiful I am when I'm in a passion I'll slug you off this stand!"
He held up his hands. "No, no, I do admire the passion, and you are very beautiful, but you care, you're so interested... you remind me of another woman." The rather tangled sentence trailed away, and he seemed to be looking at some picture that had nothing to do with the holiday crowds that stretched away before them.
Roulette, staring idly out, suddenly gasped as the shadow of a pterodactyl rippled over the people. She glanced up, and sure enough, a pterodactyl was winging its way toward them.
Tachyon, alerted by her indrawn breath, sighed, and made shooing motions with his hands. The prehistoric creature came on, the alien grabbed her about the waist, and pulled her back beneath the awning just as several small pterodactyl turds pattered onto the stand.
"Kid," Tachyon shouted. "Next time I catch you I'm going to beat you."
Koch was beckoning, so they returned to their chairs. Ten minutes later a cute-faced kid with several inexpertly covered pimples on his chin, and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, wiggled through the front row of the crowd, and waved impudently up at the Takisian.
"Hey, Tachy, here I am."
"Well, at least you're dressed."
"I thought ahead. Left my clothes in the plane." A hand shot out indicating the tomb. "Thought you were going to beat me."
"I may yet."
"Bet you can't."
Koch was tapping the mike with a forefinger, sending booming, thrumming pops echoing across the square. Roulette, glancing between boy and alien, saw the human's eyes widen in alarm. Tachyon, with a guilty glance to Koch, darted to the edge of the stand. The Kid turned, bent, and obligingly presented his posterior to the doctor, who gave him a quick but gentle kick in the seat.
"Kid, stay out of trouble."
"No fair. Disgusting Alien Powers Used to Abuse Little Kid," he said in a tone indicative of a headline from the