The Balance of Silence Read Online Free

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    Glass in hand, he ambled around the place for a few minutes, hearing the far-off roll of thunder as the night storms made their way across the rainforest. There were a couple dated posters on the walls, and some pictures of what he assumed was the family who owned the place. They were all some variation on the local standards of short and dark, and apparently the scowling was genetic. Nowhere in any of them did he see a stray blond child, but there was always some tide of missionaries leaving behind unfinished business, and he’d been witness to stranger things.
    When the song wound to a close he found himself near the piano. The man playing it didn’t look up until Riv leaned one elbow on the top of the aging instrument, and then only a slightly fearful dart of his eyes gave away that they were blue.
    “Do you take requests?”
    No answer, but another song started up almost immediately, and Riv took that as a no. Shrugging it off, he left a stray coin from his dinner on the piano lid and stood a little farther away, enjoying the music.
    “He don’t talk.” He nodded at the bartender, taking a refill of the local rotgut, which tasted pleasantly of fruit punch when it wasn’t trying to kill you.
    “We found him like that one day. Just sitting there at the piano, happy as a clam. No ID, and he won’t tell us a damn thing. I’d turn him over to the clinic in Patchous, but he doesn’t hurt anything and he keeps people drinking.”
    Riv wondered about the explanation, then remembered that he was still wearing his ReliefCorp tags. It was amazing how many people thought he had some kind of authority just because he trucked vaccines and seeds through the forest.
    “You’re kidding. You just found him sitting at the piano?” Incredulity made him repeat the statement, and he stole a look back towards the silent blond man.
    “Thought that’s what I said.”
    And that was why he generally tried to avoid repeating himself, especially around people with no discernable sense of humor. “So did he walk in or did somebody drop him off?”

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    15

    S. Reesa Herberth and Michelle Moore
    “Don’t know. Don’t really matter, does it? He’s here now.”
    Considering it had taken him a good four hours in a well-equipped hopper to get here, and the trip had been anything but easy, it did seem like a relevant question, just not one Riv was sure he wanted to ask again. “Did you look around to see if he left a truck or a hopper somewhere?”
    The derisive sneer was followed by a laugh. “Think we would’ve noticed one, if that was the case.
    Spotted you as soon as you showed up.”
    Curiouser and curiouser. That meant Piano Man had either come in under his own power, a feat not to be taken lightly, or that someone had dumped him in this town at the end of the world. Beyond the how was the why, although if you were looking to disappear, this wouldn’t be a bad place to do it.
    It wasn’t a bad place to help someone else disappear, either.
    “Why don’t you go ask him yourself if you’re so interested?” Turning back, the barkeep started wiping down the greasy counter, apparently considering the conversation closed.
    Riv thought about pressing the matter, but it was a brief moment of insanity. He didn’t know anyone here, and a hopper could disappear into the jungle faster than you could blink. No sense pushing his luck and becoming one of Marta’s cautionary tales. Instead, Riv shrugged, carefully schooling his face into studied indifference. “Not really my business anyway. I’m going to finish what I need to do and be on my way.”
    “And when exactly would that be?”
    He wasn’t used to this level of hostility. Most places were glad enough to see him and the meds he trucked in. A good number actually managed gratitude. “I’ll be meeting up with some folks tomorrow, make my deliveries and then I guess I’ll see.”
    The spark of interest this inspired was hardly comforting.