“Interfering? How? I was instructed to drive this truck.”
“Don’t play coy,” Marasi said. “You’re impersonating a constable—plus it’s against the law to withhold information vital to an investigation.”
The woman smiled, turning her eyes back to the road. “Strange how similar cops are, regardless of the planet.”
Regardless of theplanet.Rust and Ruin…
Marasi had known that there were other planets out there, of course. The kandra talked about it. But… rusts. It was still hard to accept.
They pulled to a halt as some traffic worked its way into the street ahead of them. As they did, a beggar came to Marasi’s window. Per the notebook’s instructions, Marasi unlatched the window and folded it down, then handed the beggar a few boxings. The dirty man slipped her a piece of paper.
“Can you get to Biggle Way?” Marasi asked, reading the note.
“Yeah,” Moonlight said, turning them down the next street. “That’s in the industrial district.”
Marasi’s truck pulled into the lead and the convoy followed her, all ten keeping in a tight double line. At the next corner, Wayne’s truck came up beside them. She could make him out talking the ear off his driver—who turned out to be Hoid, Wax’s coachman. How hadhegotten involved in the sting?
“Can’t tell these days,” Moonlight said, “if I’m keeping watch on him,or if he’s keeping watch on me. Realistically, we’re both just keeping watch on the same third parties…”
“What.Hoid?” Marasi asked. “He’s been in Wax’s employ for years. He’s an odd fellow, but…”
In the next truck, Hoid glanced at them—past Marasi—and nodded to Moonlight.
Damn. What in the world? How much of her time had she wasted on bank robberies or protection rackets, whenthiswas going on?
Whateverthiswas.
“Has it ever struck you,” Moonlight said, “how art is so destructive?”
“Art?” Marasi said, frowning. “Destructive?”
“Each new movement consumes the one that came before,” Moonlight said, starting them forward as the traffic began to creep into motion again. “Chops it up and feeds on the corpse. Takes the bones, but drapes new skin on them. Each new piece of art is in some way a parody of what has come before.”
“You sound like an artist yourself.”
“I have certain talents,” she said. “My experiences have given me an interest in the quirks of the artistic world—and its…values,you might say. Tell me. Let’s say you had one of only sixteen extremely rare pieces of art by the same artist. What would you do to ensure yours becomes the most valuable?”
“If I play along,” Marasi said, “will you tell me about Trell?”
“I’m trying to, right now.”
Marasi frowned, considering. “I have one of sixteen pieces of art… and I must ensure mine is the most valuable?”
“Yup.”
“I’dtry to create an air of mystique around it,” Marasi said. “I wouldn’t show it off. I’dlet the other fifteen become common by comparison—and the value of mine would increase as people shared the story. Thereisone more. Oneno onehas seen.”
“Clever,” Moonlight said. “I’m impressed.”
“And what would you do?” Marasi said.
“Steal the other fifteen,” Moonlight said. “Then I’dbe able to manipulate the market however I wanted.”
“Ruthless.”
“Not as ruthless as other options. These pieces of art exist, Marasi, and your planet’s god holds two of them.”
“Ruin and Preservation.”