A Gathering of Widowmakers (The Widowmaker #4) (21 page)

"Doesn't that bother you?" said Kinoshita.

Nighthawk shrugged. "You get used to it."

"That's comforting," said Jeff. "I was starting to wonder if it would ever stop bothering me."

"It will," replied Nighthawk. "But there are disadvantages. No one expects you to care about the people who want to kill you. Eventually you'll discover that it's just as hard to care about the people who view you with fear or barely-disguised repugnance, who definitely want you out there on the front lines defending them but don't want you getting close. In the long run it probably makes you a better killer, but when you stop caring it makes you a poorer human being."

"That's some admission," said Kinoshita.

"It's no surprise to you," said Nighthawk. "You complained about my coldbloodedness the whole time we traveled together."

"The surprise is not that it's true," said Kinoshita, "but that you admitted it."

They were now half a block from the street that marked the dividing line between the District and the rest of Cataluna. and suddenly two small boys burst out of an alley, aiming toy guns at them.

"
Down
!" yelled Jeff. Nighthawk threw himself to the ground instantly. Kinoshita was a second slower, and received a laser burn on his arm.

Jeff fired a bullet in the air. The explosion startled the two boys.

"Freeze!" he snapped, pointing the gun at them.

The boys stood stock-still, terrified, and Jeff approached them cautiously. He looked briefly at the first boy's toy weapon, then took the other boy's from him.

Nighthawk made sure that Kinoshita's wound was superficial, then joined Jeff. "Who gave you this?" he asked the boy with the burner.

The boy was so frightened he couldn't answer. Jeff knelt down next to him so that he would appear less imposing.

"You didn't know the burner was real," he said. "It wasn't your fault. Nobody's mad at you." He waited until the boy calmed down a bit. "You know this man is the Widowmaker, don't you?" The boy nodded his head. "He's the one the man who gave you the pistol told you to aim at, right?"

"It was a woman," said the boy.

"I'll tell you what," said Jeff. "The Widowmaker will give you one of his very own bullets to keep if you'll tell us who the woman is."

"We never saw her before," said the other boy. "She gave us each a gun and told us to pretend to shoot the Widowmaker—that he'd think it was funny."

"What did she look like?"

The boy shrugged. "Kind of average."

"Height? Weight? Hair color?"

"Medium," said the other boy.

Nighthawk smiled grimly. "So she was average, except for the parts that were medium."

"That's right," said one of the boys earnestly.

"Do you know where she is now?" asked Jeff.

The boys both shook their heads.

"All right," said Jeff, standing up as Nighthawk handed a bullet to the boy with the burner.

"Can I have one too?" said the other boy.

Nighthawk tossed a bullet to the boy. "If you see that woman again . . ." he began.

"Yes?" said the boy.

"Tell her I've got a bullet for her too."

"You could give it to me, and I'll give it to her if I see her," suggested the boy.

"No, I don't think so," said Nighthawk. "Tell her I'll deliver it myself."

The two boys thanked him for the bullets and ran back into the alley from which they'd emerged.

"How are you holding up?" asked Jeff as he and Nighthawk returned to Kinoshita, who was on one knee, grasping his upper arm.

"I'll be okay," he said. "It hurts like hell, though."

"I seem to remember that there's a medical clinic a block or two from the Golden Palace," said Nighthawk. "We'll stop there and get you attended to."

"I can go myself."

"Did you plan to pay for it yourself?" asked Nighthawk.

"If I have to."

"Well, then, isn't it fortunate that you don't have to?" said Nighthawk. "Can you walk or do you want an aircar?"

"Of course I can walk," said Kinoshita irritably. "I think of Jason Newman on Giancola and everything he's gone through there and on Pericles, and I'd feel guilty as hell riding to the clinic in an aircar for a little flesh wound."

"Are you really coming back to find the woman who gave the burner to those kids?" asked Jeff as they crossed out of the District and into Cataluna proper.

"No," said Nighthawk. "But there's no reason not to make her look into every shadow she passes for the next couple of weeks."

"The only way she'll get your message is if one of the boys sees her again," said Jeff. "What if she holds it against them for telling you about her?"

Nighthawk's face tensed. "I never thought of that." He stopped walking. "Take Kinoshita to the clinic, and check into the Golden Palace when they're done with him."

"You're going back after her?"

"I'm going back after the boys. They're the only ones who know what she looks like."

"They could be anywhere," said Kinoshita.

"I'll find them," said Nighthawk with absolute certainty. He turned and headed back into the District.

An hour passed. Kinoshita had the burn treated and painted with a pain deadener. Next they went to the Golden Palace and claimed their suite. Two more hours passed, and Jeff checked on the resting Kinoshita, then suggested that they go up to the elegant rooftop restaurant for dinner. Neither of them mentioned Nighthawk in the course of their dinner; both thought of very little else.

After they'd finished eating, Kinoshita announced that he was thirsty. The roof had a well-stocked bar and wine cellar, but Kinoshita decided that he felt more comfortable in the lobby bar. He never mentioned that it afforded an unobstructed view of the hotel's entrance, but he never had to. Jeff joined him, and they passed the time, each nursing a single drink, until the bar closed.

They moved to the lobby. Finally Kinoshita's various medications for his wound and his pain made him too drowsy to remain, and he reluctantly went up to the suite. Jeff remained where he was, seated in a chair covered with the blue-and-gold spotted pelt of some alien animal, his gaze glued on the front door.

Then, just as the sun was rising, Nighthawk entered the Golden Palace. Jeff stood up and approached him.

"You found her?"

"I found her."

Jeff didn't bother to ask if the woman was dead. The answer was obvious.

"If you're getting hungry, they opened for breakfast about twenty minutes ago."

"I don't want anything to eat," said Nighthawk. "I could do with some coffee, though."

They entered the informal lobby restaurant and sat down at a table, the only two customers in the establishment.

"You were right, Jeff," said Nighthawk after they'd punched in their orders.

"About what?"

"She'd have killed them. I should have thought of that before I told them what to say." He grimaced. "Like I said, you're not the only one who makes mistakes and has a lot to learn."

"We'll learn it," said Jeff. "We're two sides of the same coin. I'll learn from you, you'll learn from me."

"I wonder if Jason Newman isn't the best off of the three of us," said Nighthawk with a wry smile. "Most of my experience, most of your physical skills."

"Or you could say that he's the worst off, because he's got less experience than you and less skills than me," replied Jeff.

"Well, whichever way you look at it, you're here and I'm here and that poor son of a bitch is in a hospital bed, tied in to a dozen machines."

But he wasn't.

24.

They had just finished their breakfast and were about to go up to the Presidential suite and finally get some sleep when Kinoshita rushed into the restaurant in an agitated state.

"What's the problem?" asked Nighthawk.

"I've got to leave New Barcelona," said Kinoshita.

"When?"

"This morning. Now."

"You want to calm down and tell us what this is about?"

Kinoshita sat down, and Nighthawk shoved his untouched coffee in front of the smaller man. Kinoshita picked up the cup, took a sip, then put it back down.

"I just got a subspace message on my private channel," said Kinoshita. "Only four people in the galaxy know my code. You're two of them."

"I assume Jason Newman is the third?" said Jeff.

Kinoshita nodded. "And Cassandra Hill is the fourth."

"Cassandra Hill," repeated Jeff. "Isn't that the woman he's living with—the one he rescued from her father?"

"He didn't rescue her," Kinoshita corrected him. "She was actually leading a revolution. Jason was hired to kill her, and when he took a look at both sides, he chose to go to war against his employer—her father—instead."

"Okay, so she contacted you," said Nighthawk. Kinoshita looked questioningly at him. "It couldn't have been Jason. He's still tied in to all those machines. And it sure as hell wasn't Jeff or me."

"It was Cassandra," confirmed Kinoshita. "She said I was the only person she could turn to, the only person other Jason ever worked with and trusted." He nervously lit a smokeless cigarette. "I can't tell you how many times he saved my life. I've got to go; I don't have any choice."

"What is it?" asked Nighthawk. "Has she got wind of some threat against him at the hospital?"

"He's not
in
the hospital," said Kinoshita. "They gave him his new organs two days ago. He checked himself out this morning."

"Remarkable man," said Nighthawk. "I'd have bet he couldn't stand up without help for another ten days." He paused. "So he checked himself out. What's the problem? Does she need help getting him home?"

An ironic smile crossed Kinoshita's face. "He's a Widowmaker. What do
you
think?"

Nighthawk considered the question for a moment. "Oh, shit!" he said at last.

"He's gone out after someone," said Jeff. "But why? Why not just ask us?"

"Would you ask for help?" replied Kinoshita.

"No," admitted Jeff. "No, I wouldn't."

"You want to give us the whole story?" said Nighthawk.

"He got a message—a plea for help—from Pallas Athene," said Kinoshita.

"Who the hell is Pallas Athene?"

"Jason took a little more than one hundred men, women and aliens to Pericles IV. We won, which is to say we overthrew Cassius Hill and his government—but we had only five survivors: Jason, Cassandra Hill, me, an alien called Friday, and Pallas Athene."

"Was she human?" asked Jeff.

Kinoshita nodded. "As brave and skilled as any man or alien I've ever encountered. Well," he amended, "anyone who isn't named Nighthawk. Somehow you knew that whatever happened in that charnel house, Jason and Athene would survive it."

"She sounds formidable," commented Nighthawk.

"And then some," said Kinoshita.

"And she called for help?" continued Nighthawk. "From what you say, she must be in one hell of a jam."

"She must be," agreed Kinoshita. "Anyway, he got her message and announced that he was leaving the hospital. The details are a little hazy—Cassandra was very upset—but I gather the doctors told him he couldn't leave, so he ripped every tube and monitoring device out of his body, got dressed, and started walking out. When an orderly—a six-hundred-pound Torqual— tried to stop him, Jason cut him up pretty badly with a scalpel he'd managed to get hold of. Then he put tourniquets on the wound, stopped at the front desk long enough to tell them where the Torqual was and to send an emergency medical team up to him, and left."

"One day after major surgery?" said Jeff.

"Yes."

"Does Cassandra have any idea where Jason's gone?"

Kinoshita shook his head. "They met Pallas Athene on Sylene IV, but she hasn't lived there for three years."

"It shouldn't be that hard to find her," said Nighthawk. "The message had to come to him at the hospital. They'll keep it on file, and we can run a trace on it."

"We?" repeated Kinoshita.

"He's a Jefferson Nighthawk," said Nighthawk.

"And he wouldn't have been in the hospital in the first place if it hadn't been for me," said Jeff. "I'm coming too."

"I appreciate the help . . ." began Kinoshita.

"With no insult intended," said Nighthawk, "we're not helping
you
. We're helping
him
."

"And he's going to need it," added Jeff. "If Pallas Athene is everything you say she is, and she can't handle the problem herself . . ."

"You'd be surprised what Jason can do under duress," said Kinoshita.

"Two days ago they cut him open and performed a pair of major organ transplants," said Nighthawk, "and today he's flying off to face somebody that Pallas Athene can't handle alone. I'd say that in this cane
duress
is an understatement." He got to his feet. "We're wasting time here. Let's get to the ship."

The other two men followed him out the door. They summoned an aircar, and half an hour later Jeff's ship, which was larger than Nighthawk's, was reaching light speeds and heading for Giancola II. Jeff and Kinoshita elected to enter Deepsleep pods for the journey, but Nighthawk remained awake, speaking to the computer, learning what he could about the death of Cassius Hill, studying the fall of Hill's government. Jason had hidden his tracks well; there was no mention of Jefferson Nighthawk or the Widowmaker, no mention of Kinoshita or of anyone named Friday or Pallas Athene, only a passing mention of Cassandra Hill.

He was still seeking details when the ship began approaching the Giancola system and Jeff and Kinoshita awakened. Both were hungry—the Deepsleep pods slowed the metabolism but didn't stop it, and one usually awoke with an empty stomach and a ravenous appetite. By the time they'd eaten and returned to the control room, the navigational computer was receiving landing instructions from the spaceport.

There was a delay at the Customs and Immigration booth when two Jefferson Nighthawks with identical fingerprints and retinagrams presented their passports, but while such an occurrence was beyond the robot agent's experience and programming, Nighthawk pointed out that it wasn't illegal, and finally it gave them each a twenty-four-hour visa.