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"Wait", she said, standing. "Undo your hair".
Valentine unwound the thick rubber band that kept his hair out of the way. Gide reached up and ran her metallic-nailed fingers through his hair, tousling it.
"You've got three gray hairs", she said, and kissed him. Her lips traveled down his neck. "Just a little lipstick smear. Someone might wonder why you carried me up here to talk. Though I ought to give you a black eye".
"Thanks for the advice, Gide".
"What about my offer?"
"Under consideration. But if I bring you, it'll be for your trigger finger, not the thousand and one nights".
She blinked. "You've done some reading too".
"Haven't had the time lately". Valentine put his hand flat against the small of her back and gave her lips a quick brush with his own.
"And what was that for? My makeup's already fucked".
"Gratitude. Lone man's dilemma. I was beginning to think all these flyboys were the sane ones and I was the nut".
* * *
Valentine took the stairs quietly, noticing on his way down that the crowd had grown. Masses of people and noise made him tense and headachy, so he joined some of the smokers outside. People sat on old car seats and lawn chairs, drinking and smoking and looking at the stars. In the shadows, couples kissed.
Cigarette smoke, stars, and the occasional eager moan turned above Valentine as he stargazed. Were women aware of their strange healing power? He felt the wounds begin to close, but nothing, not Gide, not Blake, not even the satisfaction that would come with a successful assignment, could replace his daughter.
"Never should have made that trip", he said.
"How's that, Max? You regretting popping off into the sage to get me back?" Hornbreed said from behind.
"Didn't see you", Valentine said. "No, different trip, two years ago. Just as soon not talk about it".
"Suit yourself. How'd you like your flight?"
"Loved it, but I still want my reward".
"We're always short planes, but it'll be arranged. You'll go fast and in style. We'll tack on an extra day or two to maintenance and put the fuel use down to testing. Tomorrow I'll set you down with some workbooks - you need to learn a few principles - and then maybe you'll go up in a two-seat glider".
"You worried about some 'purifiers' showing up?"
"I keep my nose clean. Worst thing you can do is get all nervous about it. They see you stammering and sweating, they figure a guilty conscience is showing itself".
"I know what you mean", Valentine said, prickling at Hornbreed's blase attitude. Did they put something in the water here? Suppose they carted Louisa off?
"They might not even show. The higher-ups are more worried about the food situation. They'll probably concentrate on agro in California and Mexico".
"I'd just as soon get going".
"We're still going to give you a couple thousand in gold, you know. That's got to be arranged for".
Valentine wondered if a stall was on. "How you feeling?"
"Better. Whatever juice the bugs put in me, I think it's about worked its way out. Just sore as hell. You're bunking in our house tonight, by the way. Let's go over to the hospital and sign for your gear. It sits there too long, someone might decide to sell it".
"I'm ready to go".
They took a little Volkswagen ("The Mexicans changed the name for a couple years, but people quit buying them", Hornbreed explained). Hornbreed's house was just shy of some of the estates in Iowa. The imposing, Spanish-style house lacked only the expansive grounds to be a true manor. Instead it sat on a small plot of land in a gated community filled with other equally impressive houses. Louisa gave Valentine a pleasant little room of his own on a central courtyard - its fountain made a pleasing sound - where he could look up at the master suite's second-floor balcony.
He startled awake, reaching for the sword under the pillows, but it was only a pretty Asian teenage girl in an apron bringing morning coffee - real coffee, at that.
