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“Hell no. Something else. I’ll tell you later. ”
Rector said, “Fine,” and this time when Houjin continued down the hall, Rector followed him. He caught up and found himself worrying, too, but not knowing why. There were so many goddamn things to worry about in this place, it was hard to tell them all apart.
Houjin reached a pair of huge metal doors, painted with a mural that looked fresh from a museum, with seals, orcas, and eagles presented in shimmering pastels. He would’ve stopped to stare, but Houjin pushed against the doors and they split down the middle, cutting the scene in two.
“Yaozu’s quarters are this way. They used to be Minnericht’s, but Yaozu moved in when Minnericht died. ”
“Took over the guy’s home and business both, did he?”
“Look at this place. Wouldn’t you?”
The floor was marble, peppered with lush rugs in a variety of bright colors. Rector wasn’t sure if he should step on them or not; they looked foreign and expensive. Then again, if you were going to put something on the floor, you had to expect people to walk on it, didn’t you?
Guided by this rationale, he quit avoiding the rugs and started watching his surroundings. He noticed for the first time how high the ceilings were, and how they were covered with ornate tin tiles. “This place,” he observed, “is too pretty to be underground. ”
“Underground people don’t deserve pretty things?”
“I didn’t say that. I meant it’s unusual. Don’t get your dander up. ”
“I don’t know what that means,” Houjin admitted.
“It means don’t take no offense, ’cause I didn’t intend any. ”
“All right, I won’t. And … we’re here. ”
They entered a large room with a fireplace and a table that might’ve been used for dining if it hadn’t been covered with books and candles. A pair of reading spectacles were folded neatly atop a stack of papers.
“We’re where?”
Houjin answered vaguely. “This is where he takes visitors. I’ll be waiting in the lobby. ”
“The lobby? Where’s that?” Rector didn’t like the soft tremor of panic in his words, but there was nothing to be done about it now.
“It’s where people would’ve waited for the trains, if the trains had ever come. There are benches, and ticket counters, and things like that. ” Now Houjin was the one who sounded weary, though Rector preferred to think that the boy was only thinking. That’s what he’d told him, after all.
“You’re just going to leave me here?”
Before Houjin could answer, a faint padding of footsteps echoed from the corridor.
Both boys looked to the entryway and were soon rewarded by the sight of a Chinese man wearing white. The newcomer was an inch or two taller than Rector; somehow his clothes both fit him well and flowed around him like a pale and dancing shadow.
Rector tried not to stare. “Yaozu?” He immediately felt dumb for putting a question mark on the end.
“Ah, yes. Rector Sherman. There you are. Thank you for coming. ”
“Um … you’re welcome?”
Yaozu’s English sounded better than Houjin’s, which was saying something. He spoke Chinese to Houjin, who nodded and flashed Rector a half smile that Rector couldn’t return, no matter how hard he tried: it battled his mood, and came out as a grimace instead.
“See you later,” Houjin promised.
And then he bowed a hasty departure that left Rector and Yaozu alone together in the big meeting room, which suddenly felt rather warm.
Ten
Rector stood there shifting from foot to foot while Yaozu
appraised him. The boy was tired of being appraised. It made him feel like somebody’s horse. Under different circumstances, he might’ve opened his mouth about it, but not here, and not now. Not to this fellow, who folded his arms and pursed his lips like he was considering what he wanted, and what to ask, and how to proceed.
