"Why not? Coming, Argent?"
They took some stairs down to a cafeteria, where the workers were frantically cooking, cleaning, and polishing. Valentine smelled cleanser and wet mops.
"Gide, huh", Hornbreed said, buying them some coffee with his ID. "I don't think she's all there. Though I'll admit what there is of her was expertly assembled".
"I like a challenge", Valentine said.
"If it'll plant you here, then I'm happy. Tumbleweeds have a way of disappearing. You could do a lot worse than the Circus, you know".
"I know", Valentine said, and meant it. He'd seen less comfortable cages.
A hubbub broke out in the hall, and a party entered.
"Huff. Oh hell", Hornbreed said. He stood and faced them.
Valentine did likewise, trying not to gape, but it was a strange procession that strode into the cafeteria.
Two teenagers led it, a handsome Hispanic boy 2nd a blond girl with prom-queen hair. They wore impossibly clean white robes that might have been martial arts uniforms had the coats been a little shorter. Neither of the youths could have been over seventeen or eighteen.
Behind them a New Universal Church Youth Vanguard warden carried a big briefcase handcuffed to his wrist.
Then came the muscle. A pair of men in combat vests, burnished pistols holstered low on their thighs,
might have been watching him from behind dark sunglasses. It was hard to tell - they kept their noses pointed straight ahead.
Hovering at the edge of the mass was Pyp himself, hatless and complaining. His stray hair gave him a desperate look.
"Wildlife's one of my best radarmen. He lost that arm in action, you know".
"He seemed insolent", the boy said. His voice was that of a man's, but nevertheless a little high-pitched. Sergeant Patel would tell him to "talk like you've got a pair, boy".
"Uh-huh. Or maybe he was just trying to make sure that those planes taking off didn't crash into each other".
"Who's this?" the girl asked, staring at Valentine.
"Follow your heart, Ariel", the warden advised. He opened his briefcase.
"You don't have paper on him", Pyp said. "He brought in the wing leader, here. Saved his life in tribe country".
"No doubt seeking the reward. Greedy", the young man said.
"Is that how you spend your life?" the girl asked. "Chasing money? Flesh for gold?"
"Shut up, Ariel", Hornbreed said. He placed the slightest extra stress on the name, perhaps mocking it. "You don't know what you're talking about".
The teens stood up, almost crackling like charged hair.
The warden shuffled through his folder. He handed a sheet to the young man.
Pyp put himself between the purification team and his wing leader. "You don't let men who bring in our pilots claim their reward in peace, that'll be it for anyone who goes down".
"That's the problem, isn't it? They keep going down", the boy said. "There's sabotage among the mechanics, certainly".
"If we could trade for real spares instead of modifying stuff from the boneyards", Pyp said.
"Do you think you're immune, old man?" Ariel asked. "One word from me and you'll be off with the others.
There's more than a whiff of personal corruption about you". She glanced at his feet. "Too lazy to wash your own socks and shine your own shoes?"