Titan Song by Dan Stout (top 10 ebook reader .txt) 📕

know. Bobby Kearn, Saul, both hardware store victims, everyone who’s been killed because of the buzz has used snake oil of some kind. Maybe Glouchester used traditional manna, and that can be affected, too. Or maybe he didn’t.” I looked up at Jax. He’d stopped humming. “And that means Serrow lied.”

Footsteps in the hallway brought me to my feet. The door opened, and Captain Bryyh entered the room. I gave her a sheepish shrug. For most of my career she had helped me fly under the radar, letting me do what I was good at with a minimum of fuss and public examination. She had tried to guide me down that path since the manna strike, but Jax and I had a consistent knack for receiving unwanted media attention. For once, I felt I owed her an apology about breaking that rule.

“Hey, Cap. Listen, we were told to come down here and be seen.”

She bobbed her head. “I signed off on it.”

“Really?” Auberjois had insisted that was the case, but I still hadn’t quite believed it. “What happened to keeping our heads down?”

Bryyh stared at me with a deeply lined face, lines etched from years of too little sleep and too much responsibility. “Carter, that snow’s long since melted. We are way past the point of keeping a low profile for you. At this point, all the players have realized that you are a tool to pull out and use to further their PR plans. You might as well get used to it, because when the politicians find a tool, they keep using it until it either breaks or stops working.”

“And then?”

“Then they blame their shitty craftsmanship on the tool, and throw it away.” She looked at the scrum of political flacks jockeying for position. “Let’s just hope you’ve got a sharp enough edge that you might still cut one of those bastards if they’re sloppy.”

“I don’t understand.”

She looked at Glouchester’s broken body. “As important as this crime scene is, why do you think no one else showed up?”

I shrugged. Jax kept his mouth shut.

“Because,” she said, “you two are recognizable. You’ll get your photo in the paper, and the city knows the Bunker is taking this seriously. But if the Barekusu start complaining, or the public thinks the killer’s getting a free pass, who’s the face of the investigation?”

Jax whistled. “We are.”

She nodded. “The two of you are like the pillow a hired killer shoves over a victim’s face before pulling the trigger. You make things a little quieter and catch the blowback.”

“I just want to do my job.”

“Sometimes, being a distraction is the job.” Bryyh squared her shoulders. “I’ll be back shortly.” She left in the opposite direction from the room holding Serrow. Alone again, Jax and I stared at the reporter’s body.

“You think Serrow’s gonna do time for this?” I squatted, and waved a hand over Glouchester’s ruined limbs. No threads, no transformation.

“How can she not?” he said. “Weylan usually gets what he wants, but even he can only do so much. It’s rare to see a Barekusu convicted of a crime, but Serrow won’t be the first.”

“Most people see them as peaceful. Almost like embodiments of the Path.” I stood and rubbed my hands together. “I suppose we all have our assumptions.”

“Sure. Lots of people think humans are techies and breed like rabbits. Gillmyn have cannibalistic children.”

“And Mollenkampi?”

“We harmonize really well.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You want me to sing a little something?”

“No.”

“You sure? A little lullaby might make you feel better.”

I shot him a sideways look. The deep creases around his eyes made it clear just how delighted he was with his own joke.

Bryyh returned, entering the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She rolled her neck and said, “The two of you ought to get the Hells out of here.”

“Are we booking Serrow?”

She exhaled slowly. I knew her well enough to recognize frustration. “Yes and no. We’re doing this remotely.”

“Remotely? What’s that mean?”

“It means she’s being arrested, then a judge is going to get on the phone to release her into her own custody. She’ll turn herself in later. There’s a lot of unofficial debate over having two high-profile political figures arrested in a single day.”

“We don’t make arrests based on PR,” I said, voice rising. “I don’t care what you say about us. It’s about—”

“Don’t you dare lecture me!” said Bryyh. “I’ve been running this department since you were busting candies and roughnecks on the streets. I’m well aware that homicide investigations shouldn’t be about public perception.” She blinked, as if turning something over in her head. “And it doesn’t need to be, not really. But for right now, we’ve got to play their game.”

“How?”

“Serrow will be confined to the Barekusu camp. You two get out of here, like I said. Go to the courthouse and get the case filed.”

I grunted. “We can send a couple patrol down to do that.”

“Not on this one,” she said. “On this one I want to make sure everything is done to the letter. That’s why I want you there.”

I realized she was talking to Jax.

“What about me?” I said.

“Tag along with Ajax. Pay attention and maybe you’ll learn a little something about process. Now I need to go finish acting out my part in this little show.”

Bryyh exited, and I rolled my eyes at Jax, hoping to commiserate.

“Come on,” he said, but paused at the door. “Did you bring your notepad and pencil? You might want to take notes on my process.”

I had a snappy comeback, but by the time I thought of it he was out the door and disappearing down the hall.

26

THE MUSIC IN THE CLERK of Court’s office was loud enough that I couldn’t ignore it, and muffled enough that I couldn’t catch the not-quite-present melody. It was like trying to savor a mouth full of cotton candy, dissolving on your tongue so fast it was almost never there. I leaned against the counter and stared at the wall calendar, which hadn’t yet