The Balance of Silence Read Online Free Page A

“What sort of deliveries would that be?”
    The barkeep’s eyes narrowed, dirty rag in his hand slowing and then stopping its movement.
    “Aid supplies, meds mostly. Why?”
    “Wondering’s all. Don’t see many outsiders here. Haven’t seen anyone from ReliefCorp in almost a year. Anyway, I suppose you need a place to doss down tonight then.”
    This sudden friendliness wasn’t doing anything for Riv’s comfort level. In fact, if the hair on his neck rose any higher, he’d be able to comb it. “Yeah, I suppose I could,” Riv said cautiously. “You have a suggestion?”
    The man jerked a shoulder in the direction of the piano. “He’s in a lean-to across the street. Nothing fancy, but since he ain’t paying for it, you can stay there.”
    “He doesn’t seem really eager for the company,” Riv muttered under his breath. “Thanks. It’s been a long day.” He got a grunt in reply, which was enough, and he sat there finishing his drink as the place filled up.
    16
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    The Balance of Silence
    Most of the customers paid no mind to the piano man, and on occasion the drone of voices outclassed the music. He hardly seemed to notice, moving from one song to the next. Apparently he knew that Riv was watching him though, and would look up for half a second between one song and the next.
    “You want another?” The bartender’s voice woke Riv out of his pleasant doze, and he was about to reach for the refill when the music changed again. It took him a second to recognize it, since it wasn’t normally a piano piece, but the planetary anthem of Karibee was fairly hard to mistake. He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see blue eyes meeting his for just a second. His accent was nowhere near as pronounced as it had been when he’d left, but it was still there, caressing every word he spoke. Obviously it had been recognized, and Riv wasn’t so oblivious as to not notice the attempt to garner his attention.
    “Thanks, but I think I’m gonna head for that promised bed. I assume it isn’t locked?”
    “Nope, just let yourself right in. He won’t be much longer, so you’d better stake your claim to the bed fast.”
    Riv nodded, swaying a little more than he needed to as he got up and made his way to the door with exaggerated care. The wet heat of the night struck him almost immediately—within seconds he was drenched to the skin. In the slanted spill of light given off by the doorway behind him he could just make out the structure across the way. Calling it a lean-to was generous, as it was decidedly more lean than to .
    The whole thing creaked ominously when he pushed aside the scrap of tin serving as a door, and he glanced behind him to see if anyone had followed him from the bar.
    Satisfied that he was alone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded bag, dumping two small black tablets into his palm and swallowing them dry with some difficulty. He couldn’t be certain the food had been drugged, but he was also used to going with his gut instincts. Riv waited, riding out the immediate wave of dizziness, and when he couldn’t keep it down any longer he slipped back outside and bid a fond farewell to his dinner in the bushes. He was quiet as he could be, kicking dirt over the mess when he was done and heading back into the hovel to find that somewhere in the intervening minutes he’d gained company.
    “Bad mangos,” he said uneasily, trying to leave space between himself and the man edging unhappily into the far corner.
    No response, but then he hadn’t really expected one. But he hadn’t expected the flash of fear either.
    “Look, I’m sorry for invading your place like this. The barkeep, he told me I could crash here.” The excuse definitely sounded as lame as he was afraid it would. Admitting that curiosity had been a good part of it would probably sound worse. “I’ll just sleep over here.” Riv gestured vaguely. “It’ll be out of your way,