Gunlaw

Gunlaw 46

Chapter 32

Mikeos stood in the plaza beneath the patterned shade of cherry trees. Water tinkled from glass fountains in the shape of swans poised for flight, dripping like diamonds from outstretched wings, and the city rose around him, bright and glittering, reaching for blue skies. Warmth enfolded him. Warmth rather than heat. When the breeze blew, each leaf danced to please it.

He walked from the shade to sit on the wall of the closest fountain and cool his fingers in the still waters of the gathering pool. People crossed the plaza, or paused to greet each other, dozens of them in colours and styles from all corners of the imagination. Mikeos sat at ease, feeling better than he could remember and untroubled to discover he could remember very little.

A tall man angled toward Mikeos through the scattered crowd, dressed in more sombre shades this one and showing a clearer purpose. "May I join you?" Older than Mikeos, older than fifty maybe, with short dark hair, thin and close to the scalp.

"Take a seat." Mikeos nodded to the wall and the stranger sat. He seemed more weathered than the citizens passing on all sides. He watched Mikeos a moment, grey eyes with no give in them, thin lips, lean faced.

"Do you remember why you're here yet?"

A neutral face, Mikeos thought. He could imagine a frown presenting the man bitter and cruel, or an unexpected grin giving an old friend returned by the years. "No." Mikeos remembered a woman. A vision of flowing robes surfaced then escaped him. One of her rare smiles hung at the back of his mind.

The man leaned back on his hands. "I'm James."

"Mikeos." Mikeos rolled his name over his tongue, liking the feel of it. "Mikeos Jones." The moment had returned it to him. He wondered what the next moment would bring. "It's very peaceful here." His hands patted his hips as if expecting to find something there. The people moved with a languid grace, the buildings around the fringes of the great plaza rose to dizzying heights, the sun reflecting from hundreds of windows. The scale of them confused him. Somehow he expected buildings to be far smaller, differently constructed, but another part of him remembered structures that dwarfed even these.

"This place gives you yourself back one piece at a time," James said.

"Like picking up your deal one card at a time?"

"Exactly like that." A hint of a smile on those thin lips. "Some hands just keep getting better – one ace, two aces, three, four. Some look like shit and it ain't 'til the last card you see you got a straight mixed up in there."

"How's yours looking?" Mikeos asked. Tracks had led him here, unendingly straight tracks that had finally branched then ended.

"Ain't you never played poker?" Again the thin smile. "You don't tell. Not 'til all bets are placed and the price's been paid." James spread his hands. "Let's just say there's some low dark cards in there. This place gives you yourself back. It don't promise you'll like what you get. It's a slow process, but things seem to be speeding up now you've arrived."

"I'm here looking for something."

"Someone." James nodded.

"A child."

"A man." James made a spinning motion with his hand as if hurrying on the wheels turning so slowly in Mikeos' mind.

"We're looking for the same man?" Mikeos asked. He remembered the woman again. He hadn't been alone.