Jokers Wild Page 0,85

and Tachyon were hustled to the chairs, and he gave her a concerned glance. She smiled with a confidence she didn't feel, and said, "What a blow. Betrayed by popular culture yet again."

"I don't understand."

"In the Fu Manchu books the yellow peril is always mysterious and exotic. Spoils it when the goons have names like 'Tommy,' and speak with flat Brooklyn accents."

Snake-face's long forked tongue lolled out, and he eyed her with hostility. "You want exotic, jussst keep it up, and I'll let the bosss handle you. He'll give you all the exotic you can ssstomach. "

Tachyon sat with relaxed elegance, but his lips were white and Roulette realized that the sting was still paining him. Tommy finished binding him to the chair with the belt of his dressing gown, and tilting back his head Tachyon drawled, "Of course, I am delighted to have your company, but might I know to what I owe this singular pleasure?"

Snake-face pulled out a chair with his foot, and straddled the seat, arms folded across the back. Roulette was free, but one of the thugs had placed a hand on her shoulder, and she was very aware of all those guns, and if there was one thing she had learned from her police-officer father it was Don't fuck with a gun.

"Tachy, we've come for the book."

The alien's coppery, upswept brows climbed toward his bangs. "My good man, I have something in excess of a thousand volumes in this apartment. To which book do you refer?"

"Hit him," came the flat reply.

Tommy swung, there was a sound like a dull axe biting into wood, and Tachyon spat out a mouthful of blood. Roulette noticed he was careful to aim the sticky glob onto the lap of his gown, and thus protect the white carpet.

"The book."

"I'm not a lending library."

This time Tommy moved to the front, gathered a fold of the gown in a fist, hauled Tachyon up against his bonds, and gave him several hard backhands. The Chinese was wearing a number of rings, and Roulette bit back a squeak as the metal dug into the alabaster skin. When he finished, the alien's lip had split, his nose was bleeding, and one eye was blackening.

"Hiram will no doubt refuse me entrance tonight," he murmured around his rapidly swelling lip. "He does so like a gentleman to be point de vice."

The forked tongue unrolled and flicked caressingly across Tachyon's face licking up the blood. "Tachy, maybe you don't underssstand. I'm going to have that book if I have to take you apart to get it."

Tachyon dropped the affected, maddening tone, and said bluntly, "I truly don't know what you're talking about. What book?"

The joker stared implacably back at him. "It was ssstolen, I know you have it, and I'm going to get it back."

The alien sighed. "Very well, please, search my home, but I assure you I have no stolen book."

"Ssssearch it, tear the place apart." Tachyon winced. "But tie her first. We don't want to be distracted."

Tommy pulled a thin cord from his pocket, and quickly bound her hand and foot to the chair. They scattered and began to ransack the apartment. The wasp continued to sit on the couch buzzing and chittering to itself: A cascade of books tumbled from an upper shelf hitting and shattering a delicate celadon bowl as they fell. Pain and anger flickered deep in Tachyon's eyes, but his voice was level, almost conversational, as he said, "Twice in as many months. This is quite beyond everything. I can forgive the swarmling, it was a mindless monster and so destroyed without thought, but these thugs "

"I thought you had powers. He-someone told me you did." Roulette said in a low voice.

"I do."

"Then, why didn't you use them?"

"I began to, then I heard you scream, and I realized there were more than four. I can control three humans," he whispered, "but the hold is weak, and if I should also have to fight..." He turned the full force of his beautiful eyes on her. "I was afraid you would be hurt if my powers proved less strong, or my reflexes less quick than pride would like me to admit. And that wasp is damnably fast." An aggrieved grumble. "So what do we do?"

"Wait, and pray for an opportunity. I wish you didn't have shields," he added fretfully. "I could keep contact with you telepathically. Ah well, no good mourning for a fled ship."

"Shhh."

"Yellow really isn't your color, mv dear," he said, responding