She gazed at him with a frown of curiosity.
He told her about a poem from ancient Rome, praising a gladiator for not retiring even though the emperor had granted him his freedom and the right to leave the games.
March's eyes actually sparkled as he recited:
O Verus, you have fought 40 contests and have
Been offered the wooden Rudis of freedom
Three times and yet declined the chance to retire.
Soon we will gather to see the sword
In your hand pierce the heart of your foes.
Praise to you, who has chosen not to walk through
The Gates of Life but to give us
What we desire most, what we live for:
The blood of all.
"That was two thousand years ago, Kathryn. And we're no different. Not a bit. Car races, downhill skiing, rugby, boxing, bungee jumping, football, hockey, air shows--we're all secretly, or not so secretly, hoping for death or destruction. NASCAR? Hours of cars making a left turn? Would anybody watch if there wasn't the chance of a spectacular, fiery death? The Colosseum back then, Madison Square Garden last week. Not a lick of difference."
She noted something else. "The poem, the line about hand and heart... The name of your website. Sword in the hand, piercing the heart. Little different from humanitarian aid."
A shrug, and his eyes sparkled again,
"I'd like to know more about your clients. Are they mostly in the U.S.?"
"No, overseas. Asia a lot. Russia too. And South America, though there the clientele isn't as rich. They couldn't pay for the big set pieces."
It would be a tricky case against many of these people--men, nearly all of them, Dance supposed. (She guessed the sexual component of the Get was high.) Intent would be an issue.
"The man who hired you for this job, in Monterey?"
"Japanese. He's been a good customer for some years."
"Any particular grudge with this area?"
She was thinking of Nashima and the relocation center at Solitude Creek.
"No. He said pick anywhere. Chris Jenkins liked the inn in Carmel. So he sent me here. It has a good wine list. And comfortable beds. Nice TV too."
She began to ask another question. But he was shaking his head.
"I'm tired now," he said. "Can we resume tomorrow? Or the next day?"
"Yes."
She rose.
March said to her, "Oh, Kathryn?"
"Yes?"
"It's so good to have a kindred soul to spend some time with."