The cabin cruiser was throwing up a bow wave Quinn admired and envied. What must it be like to fish from a power boat?
“Give ’em a wave, Cath,” Quinn said. So Cathy did, and the captain gave them a sort of salute. And then one of the women on the bow took off her bikini top.
“Well, I didn’t expect that,” Quinn admitted.
“Drunk,” Amber said.
The cruiser captain, obviously displeased, turned his boat sharply, which threw the woman off balance and would foul the men’s lines if they weren’t quick about reeling in.
Quinn could see the men yelling at the captain, and the captain stoically ignoring them as he motored away. The last Quinn saw of him he was shaking his head in an I can’t believe these people kind of way.
At the dock they unloaded the catch—not impressive—and hauled out their gear for mending. Salt water was hell on nets. By now Quinn knew just about every submerged rock or old wreck that could snag a net, but they still needed checking and mending every day.
He was excused by mutual agreement from this part of the day’s work because he was the one who had to go and meet with Caine, a task no one else wanted.
He trudged up the slope toward the town plaza, torn between missing the businesslike and practical Albert and cursing him at the same time for being a treacherous, cowardly weasel. Dealing with Caine was always difficult. Caine was not a businessman: he had a tendency to believe that threatening Quinn would produce more fish. Other times Caine could be self-pitying or grandiose or even depressed. Until very recently Albert had managed Caine, but in these last couple of days Quinn was starting to fear that in some way the care and feeding of the temperamental “king” had fallen to him.
It was therefore with mounting joy bordering on giddiness that he made out the face of Edilio sitting at Caine’s outdoor desk. Virtue was with him, and kids were coming and going, evidently getting instructions from Edilio.
Once, long ago in what felt like another life, Quinn had derided Edilio as a wetback, an illegal alien. Now he could have kissed him.
“Tell me you’re in charge,” Quinn said after he had mounted the steps.
“I’m in charge,” Edilio said, with a shy grin.
“If I were any less tired, I’d do the happy dance,” Quinn said. “I still may.”
Edilio stuck out his hand and Quinn took it.
“I hear you’re having a hard time getting anything in exchange for your fish,” Edilio said.
Quinn nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Give me twenty-four hours to figure it out?”
“You got it. So, where’s His Highness?”
Edilio, straight-faced, said, “His Highness is off with Sam.”
“Are they killing each other?”
“Not as far as I know,” Edilio said. “They’re looking for Gaia.”
That wiped the grin off Quinn’s face. “Oh.”
“Yeah. And I’m the one who asked them to do it, not that I had to twist their arms much. Have a seat, if you have the time.”
Quinn took a seat. Virtue had a notebook. He was writing notes, like an administrative assistant taking minutes of a meeting.
“The island,” Edilio said.
Quinn sighed heavily. Oh, man. “Yeah?”
“Have you seen anything going on there?”
“You mean like Albert up on the cliff watching us through a telescope?”
“Yeah, like that. And also like him trying to talk to you.”
Quinn shook his head. “No, not that. Me and Albert are not friends, not anymore. And he’s got those missiles out there.”
“You think he got them up the cliff to where he can use them?”
“I know he did. I have a pretty good pair of binoculars. I’ve seen him and his girls training. He wanted me to see.”
“Has he ever warned you off? Like threatened you?”
“He doesn’t have to. No reason for me to go in there and look for trouble.”
Edilio considered this and nodded. “It sucks. You guys used to work well together. By now Albert must realize he made a dumb mistake in panicking.”
“Edilio, ask me anything, but don’t ask me to go and try to sweet-talk Albert. He stabbed us all in the back.”
“Caine’s done worse, far worse, and Sam is out there with him now.”
“Albert wouldn’t listen to me anyway, Edilio. Albert thinks he’s far above me. I’m just a working guy who smells like fish. He’s the brains. He’s the big organizer. He’d probably shoot me out of the water.”
Edilio sighed and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Quinn, listen, man. We need stuff back to normal. We need the market open and we need people working, or we’re all in big trouble. Kids are gonna die of hunger watching their mom or dad eating a pizza three inches away. Kids are acting like everything is all over; it’s not all over. Just because they can see out doesn’t mean they’re getting out. Kids who ought to be harvesting and planting are sitting there up against the barrier watching TV shows because some network put up a big monitor with captions on. Those lookers out there don’t know what damage they’re doing here. They might as well be giving those kids drugs or something.”
Quinn didn’t disagree. He’d lost two of his own people that way. The rest stayed out of personal loyalty to him, not wanting to let him down.
Edilio didn’t push the matter: he let it rest there. Which kind of irritated Quinn, because it meant Edilio was trusting him to step up. He had more than enough to keep him busy. He was tired, and he didn’t even think Albert would listen. Plus Albert might well shoot him right out of the water.