Broken People (4 page)

Lies
. So many lies. Banning the
circus from town had been the mayor’s initiative. He remembered the
slogans:
No spare parts! No corruption
! It was how Ternchiev
had won his third mandate. The circus crew didn’t kidnap children
and homeless people to use them for spare parts, but who would
listen? After all, they were only circus people.

“That’s too bad.” Nicholas rested his hands
on his knees. “The circus had a rough summer, and we were hoping to
cut our losses on the way back to civilization. It’s going to be a
long winter.”

“That bad?” The mayor’s eyebrows rose even
higher. “How are things in the far east?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Nicholas shook his head.
“We passed through Vilnius, Riga, Tallinn, and went up to St.
Petersburg, but we had to stop there. It was too tough. We didn’t
dare go to Moscow, although we’ve always been welcome there.” The
mayor didn’t react to the barb, so Nicholas continued, “The land
was too ravaged. The entire Russian Federation is collapsing, and
the Japanese army hasn’t even crossed half the country yet.”

“The Ural Mountains will hold them
back.”

“I wouldn’t put much faith in that,”
Nicholas said. “They won’t cross the mountains this winter, but
next year …?” He shook his head with serious concern and left it at
that.

Ternchiev swallowed hard, glancing out the
window as if he wanted to make sure the giant war machines hadn’t
reached his doorstep. “Well … we’ll have to wait and see.”

No, they had to act before it was too late,
but they couldn’t. They couldn’t fight the enemy’s bots. The
situation was out of Nicholas’s hands, but he could still control
things locally. Okay, it was time to earn his money. “Even if the
world ended next year, I’d still like to rent the theater.”

“Ah, the theater. Yes …” The mayor turned
his attention back to Nicholas. “Of course. The small hall for a
week, as usual?”

“Actually, I want the whole building. The
employees can take the week off. A paid vacation,” Nicholas said
with a smirk.

“What do you need the whole building
for?”

“We’re going to put on a show.”

Ternchiev’s mouth turned into a severe line.
“Mr. Renard, you know our laws—”

“Not that kind of show,” Nicholas said.
“We’ll still do our usual numbers outside the city, but for one
night only, we’ll set this city on fire with new acts, just for
them.”

“I don’t think—”

“It’s a brand new concept,” Nicholas
continued, undisturbed. “We did some of the numbers in St.
Petersburg, and they were well-received by the audience, but this
will be a whole new show. A world premiere.” He moved his hands as
if he was pointing at the headlines. Since the mayor failed to look
impressed, he pressed further, “We’ve been working on this for some
time now, and your city will get to see it first. It will be our
final rehearsal before we take the show to Vienna, Berlin, and
Paris.”

“I don’t know …”

“
And
to show our gratitude to the
people of Bratislava, I am entitled to offer them twenty percent of
the profit for allowing us to do the fine-tuning of our show in
such a beautiful, antique theater.”

“That’s bribery,” said the mayor.

“No. Bribery is what I’m going to say next.”
Nicholas propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward,
looking Ternchiev in the eyes. “I am
not
entitled to offer
you five percent, but I’ll do it anyway. You know it will be a full
house.”

That caught the mayor’s attention, but it
still wasn’t enough. He couldn’t pull back after he’d openly called
it a bribe.

Here comes the final blow.

“Besides—” Nicholas lazily sat back in his
chair, “—Miss Aurore is endorsing the show. So if the municipality
has something against it, she’ll buy the damn theater, and I’d like
to see the person who dares get in her way.”

“Aurore supports the idea of the show? Why
didn’t you say so?” Ternchiev clapped his hands. “Aurore has a good
eye for arts, and a great head for business. Everything she touches
turns into gold. The show will be a huge success!”

In his excited state, Ternchiev seemed to
miss the irony in his words, and Nicholas refrained from pointing
it out. “I’m glad we understand each other.” He put his gloves back
on. “So, when can we start practicing?”

“You can start today if you want.” The mayor
left his chair to accompany Nicholas to the door. “I’ll talk to the
chief of police to have more agents stationed around the theater
for your own protection … You understand.”

“Of course.”

“And I’ll have buses drive your crew back
and forth. Since the schools are on fall vacation, that won’t be a
problem.”

“That is very generous of you. Thank
you.”

Ternchiev held the door open for him.
“Twenty-five percent you say?”

“Twenty-five,” Nicholas repeated with a
suave grin, and walked out.

Seated in a massive armchair on a platform
in front of the car that contained the workshop, Cole slipped in
and out of consciousness. The strong painkillers they had given him
kept him numb and hazy. He was glad to have only blurry memories of
the beating, but flashes of the torture kept entering his mind.

Plastic-covered boxes, which were part of
his seat’s armrests, encased his arms, so he couldn’t see how bad
it was. He remembered waking up screaming in the middle of the
night, only to discover his jaw was also broken. The two scarred
guys with knives had taken care of that, but the bone would take a
while to heal. So for now, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t write,
and he couldn’t think.

The universe must hate him. Dale definitely
did, and Cole couldn’t blame him. Troubles from the previous job
had caught up with him when he was rushing over to the next one.
Lucky for them, small-time thieves were put to rest with a bullet
in the head. Big-time thieves had everything important taken away
from them—their skills. Cole moaned pitifully, grateful for the
drugs that prevented him from exploring the entire bleakness of his
future.

“It’s only soup,” a soft, child-like voice
said.

Cole opened his eyes to discover a girl, mug
in hand, standing next to him. Blonde wisps of hair escaped from
the ponytail and brushed against her rosy cheeks. The light green
dress, matching her eyes, did nothing to disguise her young body or
hide the way one of her hips was lower than the other.

“I’m Cielo.” She moved, and a hint of sea
salt tickled his senses. “I’ll be your waitress this fine day,” she
added with a small grin. “Unfortunately, you can’t give orders. I
know it’s a cliché, but chicken soup is the best we could do. Now
…” Green eyes peered at him. “One blink for yes and two for no,
okay?”

His brain refused to process the question
right away, and the reaction was delayed.
Blink
.

Cielo smiled and, moving the mug in front of
him, she pressed a straw against his lips. “Too hot?”

Blink. Blink
.

The soup burned the back of his throat, but
it made him feel alive, so he didn’t complain. He couldn’t have
said anything anyway.

“Take your time. There’s no rush.” Cielo
stood by his side, content to smile at the sun, switching the mug
from one hand to the other when her arm got tired.

Gradually, Cole became aware of the
agitation as the perception of his surroundings expanded. People
rushed back and forth along the train, yelling at each other. In
the distance, the big cupola of a blue- and yellow-striped circus
tent rose towards the clear sky. That explained why all the people
wore such colorful clothes. It didn’t explain what he was doing
here and why he wasn’t in a hospital, but he liked it better this
way.

After a while, it occurred to him something
was off about these people, but they didn’t stand still long enough
for him to figure out what it was.

“Yes, it’s a circus.” Cielo chuckled when a
flock of egrets flew in front of them in perfect V-formation,
following a black woman and her two-meter long pole.

“And what a circus!” someone huffed as
another woman climbed onto the platform. Tall and slender, with
chin-length, brown hair and dark brown eyes set in a heart-shaped
face, she moved graciously around them, fluttering two sheets of
paper.

“Anya, this is—” Cielo gave Cole a confused
look, clearly not remembering his name.

From her advantaged height, Anya threw him a
glance. “Let me guess. This is Spinner’s new project.”

“Well, yeah …”

“Charmed.” Anya nodded at him shortly, then
turned to Cielo, holding up the papers covered in sketches. “I’ve
been up all night drawing these. There’s no way I’m doing the show
in those rags. I need new costumes.”

Cielo tilted her head. “Are you sure you
need new costumes? I finished one for you last month. And we don’t
even know if there’s going to
be
a show.”

“Nicholas will make sure there is one.” Anya
rested her hand on Cielo’s arm. Her skin looked like alabaster in
contrast with Cielo’s golden tan. “So, yes, I need them. I haven’t
danced on a proper stage in … well, way too long.”

“Okay, but …” Cielo sighed. “You do realize
if word gets out I’m making you new costumes, everyone will come
saying they want one, too. There’s no way I can accommodate them
all.”

“That’s why I came to you first. You can
tell them you’ve had them already made for me, but I hadn’t paid
you yet. They all know I’m terrible with money.” Anya grinned
wickedly and wrapped an arm around Cielo’s shoulders.

The move made the straw slip from Cole’s
lips, but he was too distracted by Anya’s long legs to protest. The
question why she wasn’t cold in those white tights and loose blouse
briefly crossed his mind. He decided he didn’t care. She looked too
good to hide her body in a lot of clothes. The next second, he felt
guilty for discarding his caretaker that easily from his
thoughts.

But Cielo was distracted by the sight of a
tall, muscular man with sandy hair walking with a short redhead
across the tracks.

“Or …” Anya lowered her voice, leaning
intimately towards Cielo’s ear, “I could set you up with Serioja.
Although, believe me, he’s not as good in the sack as you might
expect.”

Color rose to Cielo’s cheeks, and she looked
away, mumbling, “No need to. Riella would probably scratch my eyes
out.”

“Well, she doesn’t need to
know
.”
Anya muffled a giggle against Cielo’s shoulder, but when Cielo’s
green eyes rolled, she sobered up. “So, are we going into town to
shop for fabric this afternoon?”

“I—”

“Look. Nicholas is back!” Anya’s grin
widened, and she waved at a man wearing tails and a top hat. “I’ll
let you know how it went.” She thrust the sketches at Cielo and ran
to join him.

Cielo let out a sigh and turned her
attention back to Cole. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She brought the straw back
to his lips. When he made no effort to drink the soup, instead
staring pointedly at her, Cielo rolled her eyes again and quietly
laughed. “I know, I know. You think she’s taking advantage of me …
but I don’t mind sewing dresses for her. She always has great
designs.”

Nicholas met Anya halfway between the train
and the tent. He smiled, seeing her bounce on the tip of her toes,
the way she did when she was excited, trying to achieve eye level
and not quite making it.

She hung onto his arm instead. “When do we
start rehearsing?”

“Tomorrow, if you like,” Nicholas said,
pacing his steps. Anya’s long legs could easily keep up with his,
but he didn’t want to put more pressure on them. They were strained
enough as it was, and he enjoyed a leisurely walk with the Russian
ballerina by his side. Besides, he was in no hurry to give anyone
the news about the police’s involvement.

“I knew you’d succeed.” Anya’s pleased grin
said more about her confidence in her power of prediction than in
his ability to get things done. She turned and gave Cielo a
discreet nod, then waved goodbye to the blond girl and her
companion on the platform. Her attention going back to Nicholas,
she pulled him along the length of the train, towards Rake and
Spinner’s car. “So, I’ve heard you’re our new art director.”

“That’s what they’re telling me, too,”
Nicholas said, unsure of how he felt about that. He knew, however,
where this conversation was going.

“I know you’ll be busy the next few days,
but I trust you’ll tell me when my turn comes to
discuss
my
numbers with you.”

If Nicholas hadn’t known her, he would have
believed Anya truly meant what her warm body rubbing against his
side insinuated. “We can talk now if you want.”

“Well, I don’t suppose there’s a way out of
it?”

“What are you talking about?” Nicholas
looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you’d be thrilled
about this opportunity. You always talk about how you can only do
silly numbers because the audience isn’t capable of appreciating
the serious ones. Here’s your chance to do something
different.”

“I know, and I
am
thrilled. It’s just
that …” Anya chewed on her lower lip, almost to the point of
drawing blood. She rolled her eyes and looked away. “I haven’t
danced on a real stage in six years.” She nodded in the direction
of the city. “These people will notice.”

“You were the prima ballerina at the Moscow
Bolshoi Theater, and you still practice every day,” Nicholas said,
squeezing her arm. “These people have
never
seen someone
dance as well as you do.”

“Well … you’re sweet to say that.” Anya’s
smile told him she agreed.

She
was
good, although not as good as
she had once been. That was why she had left Moscow in the first
place. Still, the years had been kind to her, and she was still in
good shape. She would do well.