Supply and Demand, Chapter Three

The Limb Four Incident was in full swing again, with Neetra its sole spectator. She loved the fat tottering boy-grubs of Flaban. They were adorable, barely able to wield a Four Heroes action figure without tumbling and rolling over and over on the pavement. Meanwhile the wavy little glowing girls were pretty by anyone’s standards, though Neetra would have liked them more if they hadn’t all so obviously known it. Finned females and maggoty males bashed their toys together in noisy contentment as late afternoon shaded to evening. Our heroine guessed that was the only hour Flaban children’s schedules so coincided as to allow mixed-gender play.

Wodding chugged from his store to join her in the small public square.

“I’ve done no work at all today,” he confessed with a chuckle.

Neetra smiled. She hadn’t either. In fact, for all the telepathic trace impressions or hard data they’d thus far turned up, she was about ready to conclude Joe’s television programme and its related merchandise had never made it as far as Flaban. Realistically there wouldn’t have been enough of a Mini-Flash presence here to warrant it. Speaking as someone who’d met Lightning, Neetra could safely say his Flash Club hadn’t concerned itself with obscure farming planetoids. None of which was a problem, because it wasn’t like she was going to be short on news when she returned to Nottingham.

And speaking of Joe, there he was, liberating Mini-Flash Meek from her plastic hamster-ball. One of the Flaban girls shrilly pointed out that that wasn’t how it happened.

“In your line of work, this must look like full circle,” Neetra remarked to Wodding.

“You really are psychic!” he laughed, delighted. “Yes, we seem to have taken in every stage on the great cycle today. Can’t thank you enough.”

Our heroine was ever so glad to have given Wodding an excursion to remember, even if it had come about by chance. He’d been very kind to her. His last utterance had also been correct in more ways than he knew. Right now nothing preoccupied Neetra so much as that great cycle.

The Prolepsis lead wasn’t going to come for free. Her source however had kept his impressive pair of pouty metal lips tight on the subject of what he expected from her in return.

Harbin was making his move. Which was to say the little Flaban female who held him was, while the boys with good-guy figures frantically pooled their resources.

“Well, this time she can’t complain,” observed Wodding, enjoying the show. “That’s how it happened. You did team up.”

“We did,” said Neetra with a happy sigh. “And it was lovely, Wodding. Just like old times. Back on Earth, I mean.”

Across the square the little round boys were rallying. Neetra had been a child like them in the era of which she spoke. And how like childhood it now seemed.

“But the stakes are different these days,” she went on. “They’re higher. So sometimes we’ve got to be different too. What worked fine on Limb always used to work for us, but we can’t count on that anymore. I guess you must have made one or two deals you weren’t sure of at the time?” she added to Wodding with a grin.

“Oh, only about a thousand!” he cheerily confirmed.

“Then you know it’s always risky,” Neetra declared. “Joe would be furious with me if he knew.”

“Well, if you’re not Board of Directors at Nottingham, who is?” put in the bluff Wodding. “Of course, I’ve heard about Joe. Somehow though I can’t picture my getting on with him as well as we do.”

“Best approach for that is to start early, like I did,” Neetra agreed. “And I know it’s just because he wants me to be safe. But I want them all to be safe, Wodding. I want the likes of Jenny and Robin to sleep sound in their beds, and then when the coming conflict’s come and gone, I want them still to be here. That’s why we need to know what’s on the way.”

It seemed the Limb Four Incident was over. The Foretold One was supine on paving-stones, arms outstretched and a knee-joint bent.

“Now Joe and Dylan have to fight,” his shrill little owner decreed.

She reminded Neetra of Mini-Flash Robin’s girlfriend. Which was to say, the one who wasn’t her or Mini-Flash Juniper. His Flaban girlfriend. Apparently he had three.

“The problem is, Wodding, I don’t think they cancel prophecies due to lack of support,” our heroine continued. “Since Limb Four, we’ve all been carrying on like this one’s going to be the first. It’s felt altogether too good. I needed something to bring me up sharp against what else is out there, and our business-trip today did that.”

Some of the Flaban children were protesting they’d rather have a happy ending.

“Because I want to believe we can beat the Prophecy, Wodding,” Neetra told him in a tiny voice. Funny how sometimes it was easiest offloading to someone you’d not known long. “I hugged my sister Phoenix, like we used to do. I want it to be real. And that’s when the judgment starts to cloud. That’s when I could start making mistakes we can’t afford.”

Harbin’s handler had prevailed, overruling her playmates on the grounds she was second gender and knew what was what. Joe himself had practically said so.

He would see the ends justified the means. Neetra had been right. They’d needed to know. Whatever her informant wanted of her, she was prepared to pay.

“I’m not certain a shopkeeper’s quite the one to comment,” Wodding admitted at length, “but isn’t all this rather in the realm of nobody knows?”

Neetra watched a little longer as Joe and Dylan enacted their final bitter descent.

“All you can do is try to know who your friends are, as you head off for the war,” she said softly.

“Insider information and ancient Earth-wisdom too,” breathed blissful Wodding. “You’re the guest who just keeps on giving!”

END OF CHAPTER THREE