Broken People (11 page)

“Don’t get cheeky with me.” Aurore barely
hid a smile. “I’ll send you a fresh fruit basket from the market.
Deal?”

“Sold.”

Shaking her head to herself, Aurore buried
her nose back into the books. “I should so fire you …”

Dale wasn’t used to having strangers pick
him up from work or anywhere else. The terrifying thought that they
might be police and his whole plan had been compromised was
discarded when he saw no uniforms or badges. They approached him by
the entrance, saying, “Boss has an errand for you. You’re not
working today.”

The only boss Dale could think of was the
Golden Lady, and he was in no position to decline the invitation.
Too much depended on her goodwill. So far, she had played fair, but
he didn’t want to risk attracting her wrath, so he allowed her men
to drive him back to her establishment.

This time, the entrance guard didn’t signal
him to go upstairs, but opened a door to a small lounge on the
ground floor where Aurore and Rosie were chatting over biscuits and
tea. It looked more like a one-sided chat because the little girl
was busy shoving biscuits into her mouth, only nodding from time to
time. In the crook of her bad arm, she held a long, narrow package
wrapped in brown paper.

“You wanted to see me?” Dale asked, stopping
inside. He wasn’t in the mood for biscuits and tea, and made no
effort to hide the low growl in his voice.

“How nice of you to come, Mr. Armstrong. Do
come in.” Aurore’s smile lacked the usual coldness.

She gestured at the tea, but Dale shook his
head.

“I need you to do something for me,” Aurore
said. “I want you to take Rosie to the circus today.”

“I’m not a babysitter,” Dale replied. “You
can put my services to better use.”

The child glared at him.

“Rosie is a big girl. She doesn’t need a
babysitter,” Aurore said patiently. “She is going to have her hand
fixed, and that fixture—” she pointed at the package Rosie was
holding, “—was very hard to find. So I need you to make sure she
arrives at the circus all right, wait for her during the procedure,
and bring her back here when she’s done.”

“That’s still babysitting,” Dale said,
ignoring the way the little girl smirked at him while chewing on
her biscuits.

“Call it whatever you want as long as you’re
doing it,” Aurore said. “Any questions?”

“Yes. Is this considered a favor? Or will it
cover part of my debt to you?”

“Business … I like that.” Aurore nodded.
“Okay. Five percent. That’s a lot of money for two hours of your
time.”

“At least four hours,” Dale said. “Going
there and back; plus, assuming they can do it on the spot, the time
she needs to wake up from the anesthesia. That’s at least four
hours.”

“It’s still more than a babysitter gets in
any part of the world,” Aurore said, “and you’re not getting any
more. Are you ready to go?”

Rosie nodded widely. She shoved two more
biscuits into her mouth, wiped the crumbs from her lips with the
back of her hand, and jumped off the sofa.

With a fluid motion, Aurore stood up, too.
She wore a dark green skirt that stopped just above her knees,
revealing five centimeters of golden skin peeking out from above
the black leather boots. The skin gleaming in the daylight made
Dale wonder how far up her legs the prosthetics went. Was any part,
besides her face and cleavage, still natural? And why gold? Neither
was a question Dale had any desire to ask her directly.

“After you.” He gestured for Rosie to go
ahead. When she left the room, he said over his shoulder, “It’s
still babysitting.”

“Yes, it is. But you’re not keen on the
bouncer gig, are you?” Aurore rested her hands on her hips.

Dale started for the door. “You could have
asked.”

“You
do
know they call me the Golden
Lady, right?” Aurore asked. “It’s actually a euphemism for the
Bitch from Hell.”

“Yeah. And you just contradicted it by doing
this for her.” He nodded towards the hallway and didn’t wait for an
answer.

“Well, you won’t be in town long enough to
ruin my reputation,” Aurore spoke into the empty room.

As it was only early afternoon when they
arrived at the circus, they found the fair dead. Still, Rosie’s
eyes opened wide at the sight of several gymnasts doing somersaults
on a trampoline. She hadn’t uttered one word during their ride, but
now she pulled closer to Dale, watching her surroundings with
infinite curiosity.

The temptation to take her small hand in his
was strong, but Dale had noticed the way the girl avoided any
physical contact. He didn’t want to scare her. He settled for
walking by her side, guiding her towards the train parked at the
opposite end of the fair. There were fewer people than he expected,
so he assumed they had gone to the theater for rehearsals. The
entire city was raving about the circus show brought in the middle
of it. Although many people grumbled about “breaking the law” and
“freaks of nature”, all of the tickets had sold out the first
day.

“Hey …” Dale stopped a young woman. He
didn’t recognize her pretty, heart-shaped face, but her long legs
identified her as the Swan, the mechanical ballerina from the show.
“I’m looking for Renard. Do you know where I can find him?”

“Nicholas is still at the theater. He won’t
return before five.”

Well, that wouldn’t do. He couldn’t wait
until five to get Renard’s permission because there wouldn’t be
enough time left to have the procedure done before the public
arrived. And Rake and Spinner didn’t work while the fair was
open.

The Swan smiled, seeing him frown, and
glanced at Rosie. “But you don’t need him. Rake and Spinner are
here.”

He didn’t need Renard’s approval? He found
it a little strange, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that.

“So I should just … go?” Dale gestured in
the direction of the train.

“Sure. They’ll find time for her,” the Swan
said. “And before leaving, you should take her to see the animals.
She’ll like that.”

Dale wasn’t sure he wanted to go that far
with his babysitter attributions, but if the kid was in too much
pain by the end, it sounded like a good idea to distract her.

“Thanks. Come.” He placed a hand on the
little girl’s shoulder.

Rosie, who was enthralled by the aerialists
practicing on the trapeze, turned and hissed at him. Dale quickly
withdrew his hand. Those pieces of metal in her teeth looked
menacing enough. He didn’t want to become one of Rake and Spinner’s
clients. He couldn’t afford to owe any more favors.

“No-no, sweetheart. Those are just
oversized, flying toys.” The Swan placed her hands on both of the
girl’s shoulders and steered her in the right direction.

Rosie didn’t hiss but held tighter to her
prosthetic.

With a smiled thanks, Dale fell back into
step next to her, leaving the ballerina behind. They passed by
unguarded kiosks and attractions. No one was working, except for
Jacko, who waved at them from on top of a ladder where he was
changing broken light bulbs.

Walking up to the new door of the car, Rosie
hesitated at the sight of the bright lizard painted of it. That
work was recent and still smelled of fresh paint. In the absence of
another way to announce his presence, Dale placed his hand on the
square panel near the lizard’s mouth, not exactly thrilled by
having his handprint taken. The panel flashed once, and the door
slid open.

“I already let you know how it went!”
Spinner’s voice came from deep inside the car. “Nothing’s changed.
You didn’t have to come—ah …” The tirade abruptly stopped when
Spinner laid eyes on Dale’s companion. “I told Rake we need a
smaller size,” he grumbled as he stepped around the workbench to
come and join them. “What do we have here?” He bent at the waist to
look at the girl.

Rosie gave the knife thrower an up and down
look and, apparently satisfied with what she saw, she thrust the
package at him. Spinner unwrapped it on the closest table.

“Hmm.” He frowned at the metallic parts held
together by thin wires. “I haven’t seen one of these in a while.
They’re not making them anymore. EQ84 standard replaced many of the
old ones. Of course, you must be able to charge it which—” Spinner
eyed the kid, “—I reckon is not the case.”

The Golden Lady seemed too efficient to give
Rosie a prosthetic she couldn’t use, so Dale asked, “Can you do
it?”

“Yeah, sure …” Spinner’s eyebrows rose as if
surprised someone doubted it. “It’s basic surgery, nothing
fancy.”

“Can you do it now?”

Rosie looked from one adult to the other,
following the exchange.

“Uhh … now?” Spinner scratched his head. “I
was going to take a nap, but … well, there are no other clients
waiting in line so …” He hesitated, then narrowed his eyes. “Let me
guess. This is another one of Miss Aurore’s projects.”

“What gave it away?” Dale asked dryly.

“It’s not the first time she’s sent me one
of her protégées. I don’t know where she finds them or the parts,
but in this rhythm, their no-spare-parts rule will never take full
effect.” Spinner paused and proceeded to clean the prosthetic.
“Besides, you don’t look the type,” he said over his clunky
shoulder.

Dale would have felt insulted if he hadn’t
spent so much time working on the new disguise.

“Okay,” Spinner said, “but she needs to take
a bath before I get her into the clean room.” He rolled his eyes
when Dale raised an eyebrow. “I’ll ask Cielo to do it. Meanwhile,
I’ll wake up Rake. You stay here.” He reached for the
prosthetic.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Dale
said before Rosie could hiss again and possibly launch herself at
the knife thrower.

Spinner blinked at the girl. “Ah, okay …
I’ll leave it here then. You guard it for me. I’ll be right
back.”

After Spinner left, Dale leaned against the
wall and crossed his arms over his chest. No effort to make
conversation was necessary because Rosie ignored him while she
walked around the room, alert to any sound and never fully turning
her back to the door.

A few minutes later, Cielo arrived, coming
from the corridor leading deeper into the car. The sea-colored top
and flowery skirt dancing around her legs looked very different
from her working attire.

“Spinner told me I needed to prepare you for
surgery.” She walked straight to the little girl and stretched out
her hand.

Rosie’s deep brown eyes scanned her, and the
young woman’s friendly smile seemed to convince her because she
placed her right hand in the open palm.

“We won’t be long,” Cielo said to Dale. “The
food quarter is open if you’re hungry.”

He wasn’t. He’d been left with direct orders
to guard Rosie’s prosthetic, so he didn’t move. Sometimes he hated
his military training.

When Cielo and Rosie returned, Dale was
surprised to discover that, underneath all the grime, the girl had
light brown hair and fairly white skin. The navy dress Cielo had
somehow convinced her to wear was not too big for her, revealing
Rosie wasn’t underfed, an unusual situation for a child living on
the streets.

“We’re ready,” Cielo said. “I had brighter
dresses but, when I told her she could keep it, she chose this
one.”

Smart kid. Any bright color would make her a
target in the streets.

“How long do you think it will take?” Dale
asked Cielo.

She glanced at the girl’s hanging wrist.
“About an hour. Then another hour for her to wake up.”

Aurore had been right. He was left with two
hours to kill. Unfortunately, he was too far from the city to make
a trip back worth it, and the fair was closed. Once again, he
resigned himself to wait. How long would it take Spinner to wake
someone?

Just as he was wondering that, the front
door opened and Spinner appeared, followed by Rake. The taller
knife thrower wore a grumpy expression and looked like he’d rather
go back to sleep than perform any kind of surgery. Dale hoped they
couldn’t afford any bad publicity and wouldn’t screw up the job,
especially one commissioned by the Golden Lady, but he remained on
guard.

Keeping the chatting to a minimum, Spinner
plugged in the coffeemaker on a shelf and, when it was ready,
poured Rake a cup.

Rake took a sip, twisted his neck to both
sides, and settled his still hooded eyes on the “client”. “What’s
your name, kid?”

“Rosie,” she answered in a tentative, but
clear voice.

“Okay, Rosie,” Spinner said, taking a step
closer to the girl. “Let’s get you to the production room and prep
you for the procedure.”

“Wait.” Rake raised his cup. “Did you check
her teeth?”

“What? Sweetheart, open up.” Spinner bent
over to look at Rosie’s mouth.

The girl bared her teeth, but her jaw
remained locked.

“Oh, shit!” Spinner drew himself back up in
a hurry as if frightened by what he saw. “How long have you had
those?” Rosie shrugged. “One year? Two?” Spinner insisted.

“Three.”

“What’s wrong?” Dale asked from his place by
the wall.

“The stuff they used to reconstruct her face
…” Spinner shook his head. “It reacts to our chemicals. Most
likely, the anesthesia will melt half of it off.”

“So you can’t do it?”

“No, we can … We just need to find another
approach.”

“Any idea?” Rake asked and drank some more
from his cup.

“Well…” Spinner ran both hands over his
face. “We could remove the metal parts and prosthetics, fix the
hand, then redo her face.”

“Sure, if you want to finish by the time we
arrive in Paris,” Rake said.

Spinner grimaced. “Right, it takes too long
… We could remove the whole arm, fix the hand, then reattach it. We
have about a week left here. It should be enough to make sure
everything is in order.”