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“Maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to judge,” says Doris, which raises a few eyebrows. She’s not used to speaking up. Her hands absently play with the knives on her belt.
“Care to explain?” Frederickson says. He scratches his scalped head.
“Back home, people didn’t think much of me either. I cooked and cleaned for my family. I had a cat and a book club and I baked cookies for the school fund-raisers. Then I had my little . . . well, incident with the in-laws.”
People laugh. Wanuri makes a chopping motion with her hand.
“The first trial was a hung jury and the second one acquitted me. Why? Because I was nothing. A harmless little housewife who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Maybe Father Traven is a bit like me. Hiding his talent under a bushel.”
Daja gives me a hard look.
“If I trust Marian the Librarian and something happens, you guarantee he won’t wilt like a flower?”
“You can trust me.”
The Magistrate said so, remember? Or are you still mad enough to hold a grudge?
She looks at me and around the camp.
“Fine,” she says impatiently. “Johnny, Frederickson—get him over here.”
“You can’t be serious,” Frederickson says.
“Do I sound like I’m kidding? Get off your ass and bring him to me.”
He goes to get his bike, a Hellion-style BMW cruiser. The tank wraps over his knees like the flared head of a cobra. Instead of chrome pipes and forks, they’re made of some kind of thick bone. The pipes glow green when he hits the throttle.
“Assuming that the padre works out, that leaves four for the road. Volunteers?”
Doris says, “I’ll go.”
Gisco raises his hand.
“How about you, Wanuri?” Daja says.
“I’d rather stay and keep an eye on the Magistrate.”
“I’d rather have you on the road.”
“Why?”
“’Cause he’s the fourth.”
Everyone looks at me.
“Oh, goody.”
Daja says, “Wanuri, you ride point with the map. Everybody else takes orders from you.”
She looks at me.
“Everybody.”
“Got it, boss.”
“You know no one here thinks you’re nothing, right, Doris?” says Barbora.
“I know, but it’s still nice to hear,” Doris says. “And I know they know back home. By now, the house will have been sold and the new owners will have dug up the garden. Oh, the things they’ll find down there.”
