The Talisman

to be a useful fingerpick.
    ‘Who’s the man?’ Jack asked. He slipped the pick into one of his pants pockets.
    ‘Big scar on his face – you’ll see him pretty soon after you land in the Territories. He’s a guard. Fact is, he’s a Captain of the Outer Guards, and he’ll take you to a place where you can see a lady you has to see. Well, a lady you ought to see. So you know the other reason you’re puttin your neck on the line. My friend over there, he’ll understand what you’re doin and he’ll figure out a way to get you to the lady.’
    ‘This lady . . .’ Jack began.
    ‘Yep,’ Speedy said. ‘You got it.’
    ‘She’s the Queen.’
    ‘You take a good look at her, Jack. You see what you see when you sees her. You see what she is , understand? Then you hit out for the west.’ Speedy stood examining him gravely, almost as if he were just now doubting that he’d ever see Jack Sawyer again, and then the lines in his face twitched and he said, ‘Steer clear of ole Bloat. Watch for his trail – his own and his Twinner’s. Old Bloat can find out where you went if you’re not careful, and if he finds out he’s gonna be after you like a fox after a goose.’ Speedy shoved his hands in his pockets and regarded Jack again, looking very much as though he wished he could think of more to say. ‘Get the Talisman, son,’ he concluded. ‘Get it and bring it back safe. It gonna be your burden but you got to be bigger than your burden.’
    Jack was concentrating so hard on what Speedy was telling him that he squinted into the man’s seamed face. Scarred man, Captain of the Outer Guards. The Queen. Morgan Sloat, after him like a predator. In an evil place over on the other side of the country. A burden. ‘Okay,’ he said, wishing suddenly that he were back in the Tea and Jam Shoppe with his mother.
    Speedy smiled jaggedly, warmly. ‘Yeah-bob. Ole Travellin Jack is okey-doke.’ The smile deepened. ‘Bout time for you to sip at that special juice, wouldn’t you say?’
    ‘I guess it is,’ Jack said. He tugged the dark bottle out of his hip pocket and unscrewed the cap. He looked back up at Speedy, whose pale eyes stabbed into his own.
    ‘Speedy’ll help you when he can.’
    Jack nodded, blinked, and raised the neck of the bottle to his mouth. The sweetly rotten odor which leaped out of the bottle nearly made his throat close itself in an involuntary spasm. He tipped the bottle up and the taste of the odor invaded his mouth. His stomach clenched. He swallowed, and rough, burning liquid spilled down his throat.
    Long seconds before Jack opened his eyes, he knew from the richness and clarity of the smells about him that he had flipped into the Territories. Horses, grass, a dizzying scent of raw meat; dust; the clear air itself.

INTERLUDE
    SLOAT IN THIS WORLD (I)
----

    ‘I know I work too hard,’ Morgan Sloat told his son Richard that evening. They were speaking on the telephone, Richard standing at the communal telephone in the downstairs corridor of his dormitory, his father sitting at his desk on the top floor of one of Sawyer & Sloat’s first and sweetest real-estate deals in Beverly Hills. ‘But I tell you kid, there are a lot of times when you have to do something yourself to get it done right. Especially when my late partner’s family is involved. It’s just a short trip, I hope. Probably I’ll get everything nailed down out there in goddam New Hampshire in less than a week. I’ll give you another call when it’s all over. Maybe we’ll go railroading in California, just like the old days. There’ll be justice yet. Trust your old man.’
    The deal for the building had been particularly sweet because of Sloat’s willingness to do things himself. After he and Sawyer had negotiated the purchase of a short-term lease, then (after a gunfire of lawsuits) a long-term lease, they had fixed their rental rates at so much per square foot, done the necessary alterations, and advertised for new tenants. The only holdover tenant was the Chinese restaurant on the ground floor, dribbling in rent at about a third of what the space was worth. Sloat had tried reasonable discussions with the Chinese, but when they saw that he was trying to talk them into paying more rent, they suddenly lost the ability to speak or understand English. Sloat’s attempts at negotiation limped along for a few days, and then he happened to see one of the kitchen help carrying a bucket of grease out through the back door