Chapter 19

           Shemisseditbyafraction.Shenearlycutit,butnotquite.Shewentinjustright,Casethought.Therightattitude;itwassomethinghecouldsense,somethinghecouldhaveseeninthepostureofanothercowboyleaningintoadeck,fingersflyingacrosstheboard.Shehadit:thething,themoves.Andshe’dpulleditalltogetherforherentrance.Pulledittogetheraroundthepaininherlegandmarcheddown3Jane’sstairslikesheownedtheplace,elbowofhergunarmatherhip,forearmup,wristrelaxed,swayingthemuzzleofthefletcherwiththestudiednonchalanceofaRegencyduelist.

           Itwasaperformance.Itwasliketheculminationofalifetime’sobservationofmartialartstapes,cheapones,thekindCasehadgrownupon.Forafewseconds,heknew,shewaseverybad-asshero,SonyMaointheoldShawvideos,MickeyChiba,thewholelineagebacktoLeeandEastwood.Shewaswalkingitthewayshetalkedit.

           Lady3JaneMarie-FranceTessier-AshpoolhadcarvedherselfalowcountryflushwiththeinnersurfaceofStraylight’shull,choppingawaythemazeofwallsthatwasherlegacy.Shelivedinasingleroomsobroadanddeepthatitsfarreacheswerelosttoaninversehorizon,thefloorhiddenbythecurvatureofthespindle.Theceilingwaslowandirregular,doneinthesameimitationstonethatwalledthecorridor.Hereandthereacrossthefloorwerejaggedsectionsofwall,waist-highremindersofthelabyrinth.