Valentine threw the corpse up at Thunderbird, then hopped into his kayak and started across the river, half expecting a bullet in the back. He chanced a look over his shoulder.
Thunderbird was on his knees, crying.
* * *
Two days later Valentine staggered into a motorcycle-cavalry depot in Maple Valley, scribbled a message to be transmitted to Troyd at the Redeye Run, and promptly collapsed.
He woke in an ambulance, and paid a brief visit to a hospital, where they found him suffering more from exhaustion and blood loss than any specific injury - though he did carry a recently healed bullet wound - and after feeding him, they sent him back to his old temporary apartment in Silas' building.
Troyd visited him, called him "ring brother" or something just as insipid - Valentine could never remember later - and dropped off a few personal possessions from his berth at the Redeye Run.
"Three of your Big Mouths made it back the day before you did. We found two more in Lake Sammamish, but they were making a nuisance of themselves and had to be destroyed".
"Nageezi got it in the parking lot of the hotel", Valentine said.
"I dunno about her", Troyd said. "You know we found one of Burlington's shoes in a bunch of BM shit? I'm thinking she chummed him after getting him to write that desertion note. You're lucky she didn't try to rung-jump over your corpse".
"I guess I am", Valentine replied.
He found he'd suddenly acquired a personal chef and regular visits from Miss L. to ascertain any needs beyond food and sleep. "Does the hero of the hour require anything else?"
"My ring, as soon as I'm feeling up to it".
"Does it mean that much to you?" she asked, looking a little disappointed.
"I went through hell to get it. Cold, angry hell. It's worth it to me".
Even Silas stopped by, with a gift-boxed bottle of brandy to put an edge on his constitution. Valentine suddenly couldn't stand his presence, and pretended to be overcome with yawns. Silas took the hint.
But he found himself leaving his bed, again and again, to look at the downtown skyline and the crystal-capped Kurian Tower. But how?
* * *
Once up and around and evidently with plenty of time and money for his recovery, Valentine walked into the student cafe he'd visited when touring Seattle, but unfortunately didn't see the kid with the drum.
He recognized the girl who'd fought with Double Deck, working behind the counter.
"Young lady", Valentine said. "Double Deck's not around, is he?"
"He's got class. I think he said he had to report to community center later. You might catch up to him there".
"How much are those T-shirts on the wall?"
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You don't look like the Earworm Cafe type. They're twelve dollars, two for twenty".
"I'll take six. But I don't have to walk out the door with them, if you'll just get Double Deck here".
"What do you want with him?"
"Babylon's going to make him an offer of extremely brief, extremely lucrative employment".
"If you're wanting to ditch your tracer for a night or two, you'll need an excuse". She stuck out a fleshless hip. "If the price is right, I could say you were tied up to me".
* * *
Thanks to a dead tracer and a borrowed mountain bike, Valentine made it to the north tip of Lake Sammamish. From there it was a fairly easy run to the borders of the Seattle Kurian Zone.
"We don't know how he kept himself fed", Captain LeHavre said. "There are a couple of theories, mostly flavors of shit whirling off the fan blades".