Holy Fire - Bruce Sterling [52]
Ulrich turned to Maya and smiled sourly. “[I forgot to mention junkies in my former list of interest groups opposed to the current order.]”
“[Twenty big dimes,]” Therese told him, bored.
“[Thirty dimes.]”
“[Twenty-five.]”
“[Twenty-seven.]
“[Go and fetch it, then. Let’s see the goods.]”
“Come on,” Ulrich said, tugging at Maya’s arm.
Therese spoke up. “Leave the Yankee for a minute. I want to practice my English.”
Ulrich thought it over. “Don’t do something stupid,” he said to Maya, and left.
Therese looked her over, judgmental and cool. “You like nice boys?”
“They have their uses, I guess.”
“Well, that one’s not a nice boy.”
Maya smiled. “Well, I know that.”
“When did you get into München? When did he pick you up?”
“Three days ago.”
“What, three days and you’re already here in a camp and dealing? You must really like clothes,” Therese said. “What’s your name?”
“Maya.”
“What are you in München for? Who’s after you? Cops?”
“Maybe.” She hesitated, then took the risk. “I think mostly it’s medical people.”
“Medical people? What about your parents?”
“No, not my parents, that’s for sure.”
“Well, then,” said Therese, with an air of cosmopolitan assurance, “you can forget about the medical people. The medical people never do a thing to investigate, because they know that in the long run you’ll have to come to them. And the cops—well, the cops in Munchen never do much about runaways unless they’ve got the parents behind them, pushing.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
“Sleep under bridges. Eat pretzels. You’ll get along. And you should dump the boyfriend there. That kid is ugly. One of these days, the bulls will break his head open and stir his brains like porridge. And I’m not going to shed one tear, either.”
“He’s been telling me about European radical politics.”
“Munchen isn’t a good town for that topic, darling,” said Therese, wryly. “What’s your hair look like when you’re not wearing that wig?”
Maya pulled off her scarf and wig. After a moment, she dropped them on the table.
“Take off the jacket and turn around for me,” Therese said.
Maya peeled off her jacket and turned slowly in place.
“You have truly interesting bone structure. You swim a lot?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Maya said, “I did a lot of swimming just lately.”
“I think I could use a girl like you. I’m not so bad. You can ask around town about me, anyone will tell you that Therese is okay.”
“Are you offering me a job?”
“You could call it a job,” Therese said. “It’s couture, it’s apparel, it’s the rag trade. You know the rag trade, don’t you? It means you can have some rags and maybe a place to sleep.”
“I really need a job,” Maya said. Quite suddenly, she began to cry. “Never mind me crying,” she said, wiping her cheeks, “it’s so funny, it comes so easily lately. But please let me have the job, I just need a place where I can be okay for a while and try to be more like myself.”
Therese was touched. “Come over here around the table and sit down.”
Maya walked around the table and sat obediently in Therese’s folding fabric chair. “I’ll be okay soon, really, I’m not as silly as this usually, I’ll work really hard, truly.”
“Calm down, girl, stop babbling. Tell me something. How old are you?”
“I think I’m about two weeks old.”
Therese sighed. “When was the last time you ate a decent meal?”
“I don’t remember.”
Therese stooped and dug around under the table. She came up with a bag of government granola and a mineral water. “Here. Eat this. Drink that. And remember, you steal one pin from me and I kick you into the street.” She looked downhill. “Joy of joys. Here comes your boyfriend.”
Maya tasted the granola. The granola was fabulous. She jammed an entire handful into her mouth and munched like a hamster.
Ulrich, red-faced and puffing, dropped the duffel bag onto the tabletop. “Let’s talk business.”
“Prima,” Therese said. “[By the way, I just hired your girlfriend for my shop.]”
“[What?]” Ulrich laughed. “[You’re kidding, right? She can’t even speak to the customers.]”
“[I don’t need another salesgirl, I need a mannequin.]”
“[Therese, this is