The Most Dangerous Dame

He shook his head. “You don’t know what you want, Mick. But you can’t have it both ways.”

“It’s all right. She knows what she wants. That’s more important than little ol’ me.”

A very familiar voice spoke beside me. “More coffee, Mr. Trubble?”

I glanced up. There she was, perfectly attired as a waitress. Her soft curls were pulled back in a bun and a knowing smile curved her lips.

“Ms. Sinn. I thought you might show up.”

“You thought correctly.” She expertly filled my mug up from the pot in her hand.

Poddar rolled his eyes. “Sounds like my cue.”

“Don’t sweat it, Poddar. Stick around.”

“It’s no problem. I have to meet Ms. Kilby. And I know trouble when I see it.” He politely smiled at Sinn, who returned the favor. Pulling on his jacket, he paused. “You’ll be at the office, right?”

I shook my head as I poured sugar into my mug. “Not for a minute, anyhow. Gonna take a wise man’s advice and lay low for a while.”

Poddar failed at hiding his amusement. “That’s the most absurd statement you’ve ever made since I met you. I’ll see you soon, Mick.”

Sinn slid into a seat opposite me as Poddar made his exit. She looked me over with concerned eyes. “You look like you can barely stand, Mick.”

“I keep hearing that. Better than dead, I guess.”

“That’s the optimist in you, Mick. Nothing ever gets you down, does it?”

I shook my head with a sigh. “If only that were true, Ms. Sinn. Everything gets me down. Everything about this rotten little situation has me down.”

“I’m sorry, Mick.” Dressed in her waitress garb and with the sun shining on her almond complexion, Sinn looked younger all of a sudden. The morning rays cast light across her eyes, turning them the color of aged brandy.

“I’d probably be dead in a ditch if you weren’t there to help me out.” I took a stab at my eggs, but my appetite had fled. “I know you didn’t do it for nothing, so you might as well tell me what I owe you.”

“Where is the god lode, Mick?” Seeing my hesitation, she gave me a reassuring smile. “I took the liberty of blocking out surveillance for our conversation. No one is listening.”

I leaned back in my chair and tapped the edge of the plate with my fork. “Straight to business, is it? All right — say I do have this ‘god lode’. What of it?”

“When I scanned your holoband I noticed a small compartment drive installed. Do you have it hidden in there?”

I resisted the urge to look at my wrist. “Maybe.”

A pleased smile lit up her face. “That’s all I want to know.”

My fork rattled as it fell from my hand. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. Dr. Faraday was an important member of the organization I am employed by. To say his work was groundbreaking is saying water is wet. You’ve experienced some of it yourself. So has your synoid friend.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“He’s tied to you with strings you cannot even begin to comprehend. That’s a concern for another day. For now it’s enough to know Dr. Faraday’s death was not completely in vain. We feared the god lode was destroyed in your encounter with the New Man, so it’s a tremendous relief to know that’s not the case. Faraday lives on in a way, and his work is safe and sound.”

“With me.”

“With you. You may not see yourself in such a light, but you are a very formidable man, Mick. I trust you will keep the god lode safe until the time when it is needed.”

“Why not now? I might not be in such an agreeable mood the next time.”

“The numbers say otherwise.” She stood and picked up her coffee pot. “Enjoy your coffee.”

“Wait.”

She paused.

“What is this thing? Why call it the god lode?”

Her gaze turned ethereal, as if she stared beyond me into a realm undecipherable by human eyes. “It’s what gods are made of, Mick. Keep it safe.”

“Where will you be?”

“Away. Events are in motion that need my attention elsewhere. If you need technical support, call on Lord Troll. He’s had a severe change of heart and will be more than willing to lend you a hand.”

“I won’t need him. I’m laying low for a while.”

Amusement touched her lips. “I won’t bother quoting the numbers on that one, Mick.” She turned and drifted to the next table, where she aroused laughter from the two little old ladies sitting there. For all intents and purposes, she was the world’s most attentive waitress. I had to smile as I picked at my food.

When I looked up, she was gone.

I slid into Maxine’s cushioned interior. Ran my fingers across the dash and patted the steering wheel. Leaned back and tilted my Bogart over my eyes as the seat adjusted for my optimal comfort.

“Take me home, Maxine.”

“Setting a route for the Luzzatti.”

I grimaced. “Nix that, Maxine.” I massaged between my eyes as the realization sank in. Natasha was at the Luzzatti. I couldn’t see her. Not in the condition I was in. She’d open her pity box and try to take care of me like she always did. I couldn’t ruin her attempt at a new life. She was free of me, free of the tangled strings of regret I inadvertently tied around her. I couldn’t go home anymore.