of what?” Ingrid inquired blankly.
The tiny deep-set eyes glittered in the brightening morning light. “Don’t play the stupid with me, woman. The same thing we discussed on the dirt outside Orangemund. No more games, no more lies.” He waved at their surroundings. “Such things are meaningless out here. In the Namib only the truth survives. This is the Sperrgebeit. A company searcher could come by at any minute and we will all be as good as dead. But with my help you will survive. And with your help all this difficulty and suffering will be made worthwhile.”
“That still doesn’t tell me what you want from us,” she protested.
He sounded honestly bemused. “I cannot figure out if you are strong or stupid. Myself, I think, inclines to the latter.” His voice rose. “A share of your diggings, of course. In return for my guidance and protection.” A wide grin spread across the almost hairless face. “It will be worth your while to engage me.”
“Diggings?” Torn between fear and confusion, Whispr’s expression was as twisted as his tone. “You mean diamonds?”
“No,” the much bigger man responded dryly. “I mean cattle droppings. Of course I mean diamonds. There is nothing else in the Sperrgebeit worth digging.”
Lying bound on the ground Whispr started to chuckle. His characteristic straight-faced laugh only served to infuriate their captor, but the slender Meld couldn’t help himself. Having this water-back idiot confront them outside Orangemund with such a ridiculous challenge had been unsettling. Finding that he had trailed them all the way out into the emptiness of the Namib on the basis of the same misguided premise was irresistibly hilarious.
Quaffer found it less than amusing. Approaching the prone captive he drew back his right foot. “Shut up! Shut up or I’ll kick your head in!”
Preceding his response with a hurried cough, Whispr swappedhilarity for dead seriousness. “Listen to me, freewalker. I’m a poor streetie-sweetie from urban Namerica. The only diamonds I’ve ever seen are the ones locked up in arcades behind heavy security, secured in museums with even stronger security, or bouncing on the bodies of the rich who are too well protected for a street scavenger like myself to even think of riffling. Stones that are flashed by lesser citizens I don’t try to apprehend because it takes an expert with specialized techrap to tell a real stone from a fake. I learned that early on. Hellup, these days stealing stones pays less than stealing bones. There’s a market for morrow marrow because you can’t fake genuine organics. A rock, on the other hand, is just a rock. Easy enough to synthesize. I expect there are always those willing to pay for guaranteed real, though, or there’d be no mining here.”
The guide listened to this so stolidly that Whispr was unable to tell if his logic had made any headway. At least the freewalker’s foot descended without making contact with the slender man’s spine. Such hesitation suggested that perhaps a word or two had penetrated the solid node balanced atop of the man’s neck.
Sensing vacillation on the part of their captor, Ingrid hastened to chime in.
“Whispr’s telling the truth, Quaffer. We’re not here after diamonds. We don’t know anything about diamonds. I don’t even own any diamonds myself.” She hesitated. “We can’t give you shares in a nonexistent mine.”
The big man mulled over his captives’ words. Both Meld and Natural had spoken without being pressured to do so. Their expressions were earnest, their voices sincere. And yet, and yet …
“If you are not after diamonds,” he said slowly, “then
what
are you doing in the Sperrgebeit?”
Whispr was quick to jump on the guide’s indecision. “We told you, back outside Orangemund. We’re scientists and we’ve come out here to …”
Suddenly angry all over again, Quaffer glared down at him, his fury more a product of frustration than antagonism.
The tiny deep-set eyes glittered in the brightening morning light. “Don’t play the stupid with me, woman. The same thing we discussed on the dirt outside Orangemund. No more games, no more lies.” He waved at their surroundings. “Such things are meaningless out here. In the Namib only the truth survives. This is the Sperrgebeit. A company searcher could come by at any minute and we will all be as good as dead. But with my help you will survive. And with your help all this difficulty and suffering will be made worthwhile.”
“That still doesn’t tell me what you want from us,” she protested.
He sounded honestly bemused. “I cannot figure out if you are strong or stupid. Myself, I think, inclines to the latter.” His voice rose. “A share of your diggings, of course. In return for my guidance and protection.” A wide grin spread across the almost hairless face. “It will be worth your while to engage me.”
“Diggings?” Torn between fear and confusion, Whispr’s expression was as twisted as his tone. “You mean diamonds?”
“No,” the much bigger man responded dryly. “I mean cattle droppings. Of course I mean diamonds. There is nothing else in the Sperrgebeit worth digging.”
Lying bound on the ground Whispr started to chuckle. His characteristic straight-faced laugh only served to infuriate their captor, but the slender Meld couldn’t help himself. Having this water-back idiot confront them outside Orangemund with such a ridiculous challenge had been unsettling. Finding that he had trailed them all the way out into the emptiness of the Namib on the basis of the same misguided premise was irresistibly hilarious.
Quaffer found it less than amusing. Approaching the prone captive he drew back his right foot. “Shut up! Shut up or I’ll kick your head in!”
Preceding his response with a hurried cough, Whispr swappedhilarity for dead seriousness. “Listen to me, freewalker. I’m a poor streetie-sweetie from urban Namerica. The only diamonds I’ve ever seen are the ones locked up in arcades behind heavy security, secured in museums with even stronger security, or bouncing on the bodies of the rich who are too well protected for a street scavenger like myself to even think of riffling. Stones that are flashed by lesser citizens I don’t try to apprehend because it takes an expert with specialized techrap to tell a real stone from a fake. I learned that early on. Hellup, these days stealing stones pays less than stealing bones. There’s a market for morrow marrow because you can’t fake genuine organics. A rock, on the other hand, is just a rock. Easy enough to synthesize. I expect there are always those willing to pay for guaranteed real, though, or there’d be no mining here.”
The guide listened to this so stolidly that Whispr was unable to tell if his logic had made any headway. At least the freewalker’s foot descended without making contact with the slender man’s spine. Such hesitation suggested that perhaps a word or two had penetrated the solid node balanced atop of the man’s neck.
Sensing vacillation on the part of their captor, Ingrid hastened to chime in.
“Whispr’s telling the truth, Quaffer. We’re not here after diamonds. We don’t know anything about diamonds. I don’t even own any diamonds myself.” She hesitated. “We can’t give you shares in a nonexistent mine.”
The big man mulled over his captives’ words. Both Meld and Natural had spoken without being pressured to do so. Their expressions were earnest, their voices sincere. And yet, and yet …
“If you are not after diamonds,” he said slowly, “then
what
are you doing in the Sperrgebeit?”
Whispr was quick to jump on the guide’s indecision. “We told you, back outside Orangemund. We’re scientists and we’ve come out here to …”
Suddenly angry all over again, Quaffer glared down at him, his fury more a product of frustration than antagonism.
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