Old Mars

“That is the point of interest,” Teyud said, finishing her globe of essence. “That he was removed indicates that immediate lethality was not the object of the attackers. They were—metaphorical mode—operating as if intent on armed robbery, even though they stole nothing else. They wished to steal a vas-Terranan. Surely even the most eccentric of collectors would not do that simply to have one on hand? I am pleasantly at a loss for an explanation.”

The clock on the wall began to sing in the poetic-aesthetic mode, with a tone like the grief of diamonds:

Hours like sandOn the shores of a bitter seaFlow on waves of time;Twelve hours have passedSince last the SunRose in blind majesty;It shall yield heedless to nightIn one more—“Bit him, emphatic mode! Bit, bit, bit him!” Satemcan said viciously, snarling … literally. “I bit the intruder on the territory of my social reference group!”

“Yes, you did,” Sally said patiently, patting the canid on the head.

“I will—future-conditional intentional case—bite him again, emphatic mode!”

You couldn’t just say you absolutely would do something in the future in Demotic; the assumptions built into the structure of its grammar forbade certainty about uncontrollable events. Satemcan was coming as close to that as possible.

The canid wasn’t looking at his slightly scruffy best; the areas over his wounds were naked and glistening with the pseudoskin that covered them. He was moving well enough, though, and the medical tembst used organic glues to hold things together internally. They’d be absorbed as the accelerated natural healing took place.

And there was a crazed look in his reddish eyes. Not a happy camper, Sally thought. Well, neither am I.

“Canid,” Teyud said. “Can you track these individuals?”

“Yessss,” Satemcan said, all business for a moment.

He began to walk away from the apartment building, nose working as his deep red tongue came out to lap over it. After a moment he sniggered, which was something to see:

“He-he-he-he! Here they triggered an antiscent aerosol. I express derision! Utter futility! My exceptional sensitivity and practiced skill easily uncover the scents of blood and fear pheromones.”

He trotted on. Teyud was keeping her eyes up, watching for movement on the low rooftops without seeming to strain.

“Intriguing,” she said softly. “This resembles minor-unit confrontation tactics more than most private commissions.”

Martians weren’t any braver than Terrans, on average; they were just more straightforward. Teyud was, though. They’d worked together before, and it could get stressful. But right now, Sally didn’t give a damn.

“I express regret at the risk you must undergo,” Sally said.

The Coercive didn’t look around, but there was slight surprise in her voice:

“I chose to be involved.” Thoughtfully: “You vas-Terranan are the first new thing to come into the Real World in a very long time. Working with you is less demoralizing than sitting and contemplating the time when the Deep Beyond spreads over the final cities and the last atmosphere plants wither.”

“It will be a long time before that happens, too,” Sally said; it didn’t bother most Martians much.

She was checking their six; it would be difficult to detect a tail, but not impossible.

“Not so long as the time that has passed since the date when the First Emperor reigned,” Teyud said. “Ah, your canid halts.”

“Here,” Satemcan said, casting around under the feet of irritated pedestrians. “Multiple trails, but the freshest leads into this structure.”

“Oh, shit,” Sally added, as the canid looked up with tail waving, expecting praise. “Ah … good job, Satemcan.”

The glyphs on the building read:

Cooperative Agency for Aggrandizement, Zar-tu-Kan Franchise.

“What are we going to do?” she said. In English: “Here at Yakuza Central?”

“I recommend following the exhortation on the wall: Enquire Within,” Teyud said.

The waiting room was a large arched space; it had a rack for scrolls, which was the equivalent of a stack of magazines, and a vending device for essences. And there were advertising posters on the walls:

Have you lost the desire for self-preservation but lack the fortitude for conventional suicide? Then consider tokmar addiction, the most subjectively pleasant form of slow dissolution for individuals with your psychological malfunction! Initial samples available gratis!

Or: