"That's the river shuttle," Cotswald said. "My warehouses are at the other end of it."
A narrow pedestrian bridge jumped a few hundred feet of rail line and jumbled rubble separating the Pyramid from the rest of Memphis. Houseboats like suckling baby pigs lined up along the river side of the Pyramid in the channel between the tree-filled island and the Pyramid's plaza.
"You get a lot of boat traffic in Jacksonville?" Cotswald asked.
"A few big ships and a lot of small, intracoastal traders. Looks like you've got your share too."
"That big white one up against Mud Island is Moyo's yacht. Hey, your girl alright?"
Duvalier had sagged against the side of the Hummer.
"You okay, Red?" Valentine asked.
"Just a little faint," she said.
Spiders of anxiety climbed up Valentine's back. "Let me take the packs."
"Thanks."
"Mind if I check your pulse?" Valentine asked. He lifted Duvalier's wrist and watched her hand. Still steady-no, was that a tremble ?
She was bitten four days ago. She should be in the clear.
Valentine threw the satchel of "traveling supplies"-the pseudo-Spam, chocolate bars, and a few detonators surrounded by fresh underwear and toiletries-over his shoulder, along with the bigger duffel carrying their guns. She used her stick to walk down to the bridge.
"I think I've got a little fever," Duvalier said. Cotswald puffed ahead, almost filling the sidewalk-sized bridge.
Cotswald explained something to the City Guard at the other end ". . . here on business . . . show the big gear a good time . . ." as Valentine gave Duvalier a water bottle.
"Val, I don't want to be walking around naked in that pen," Duvalier said. "If I got it-"
"You've got an infection from the bite, I bet. God knows what kind of bacteria they have in their mouths."
"Everready says it mutates sometimes. Maybe it mutated so it takes four or five days . . ."
Cotswald waved at them impatiently and they stepped off the walkway. The City Guards smiled and nodded.
"Welcome to Memphis. Roll yourself a good time, sir."
Valentine felt around in his pocket for some of the Memphis scrip-Everready sometimes used the lower-denomination bills for hygiene purposes, he'd accumulated so much of it over the years-and tipped the City Guard. He'd learned in Chicago to tip everyone who so much as wished you a good afternoon.
The bill disappeared with a speed that would do credit to a zoo doorman.
The Pyramid island had obviously once been parkland, but a maze of trailer homes had sprung up around it, separated by canvas tents selling food and beverages.
"Remember, Cots, I've got to get a peek at Moyo's operation if you want your ring," Valentine said.
"Stay away from the Common," Cotswald said, indicating the trailers and tents with a wave. "You hear stories about men disappearing. Don't know if it's shanghaied or"-he jerked his thick chin upward toward the Kurian Tower, a gesture almost imperceptible thanks to his thick flesh. "No society types go there, not if they want to avoid the drip."
Duvalier stiffened at the word "society." "Bastards," she said.
Cotswald furrowed his eyebrows. "Seems a funny attitude for a bodyguard to-"
"Her mother died from complications of syphilis," Valentine said evenly.
"Visitors with gold buy themselves housing," Cotswald went on, pointing to the other side of the island, where the houseboats were nosed into the protective dike around the city.
"Not too expensive, please," Valentine said. Everready's gold would only go so far.