One Fell Sweep (Innkeeper Chronicles #3)(69)

In the center of the room, in the large Jacuzzi tub, sat Arland. The wounds on his face had closed. The scent of mint floated to us, mixing with the aroma of the flowers.

Maud sat on a root next to the tub, her eyes closed, her face serene, her sword on her lap. Helen stood next to her, holding a stick with bells on it.

Arland reached over and flicked a few drops of water in Maud’s direction. Helen shook her stick at him, the bells tinkling.

“Lord Marshal,” Maud said, her eyes still closed. “I’m trying to accelerate your healing. Do take this seriously.”

Marais turned to me and noticed Sean leaning against the wall, like a dark shadow. Next to him, on a windowsill, Wing was whittling something out of a piece of wood. Marais shifted his stance. Sean’s tattoos expanded, spiraling up his neck as his subcutaneous armor moved to shield him against a perceived threat.

“Hey,” Marais said.

Sean nodded. Wing continued his whittling.

I pulled a chair out at the table. “Please sit down.”

Marais sat. Orro appeared from the depths of the pantry and advanced on Marais. Marais put his hand on his Taser. Orro swept by the table with a dramatic flourish. A covered plate landed in front of Marais. Orro reached with his long claws, plucked the white cover off and sped away.

A single golden doughnut, flecked with chocolate flakes and translucent sparkles of sugar, sat in the middle of the plate. I had to talk to Orro about his literal interpretation of our TV programming.

Marais looked at me. “Is it po-”

“No!” Sean and I hissed at the same time.

Sean leaned over Marais and said with quiet menace, “Don’t say the 'p' word. Eat the doughnut. It’s the best you’ll ever try.”

Marais picked up the doughnut and took a speculative bite. His eyes widened. He took another bite. “So,” he said, chewing. “Aliens?”

“Aliens.”

“Why?”

“We’re a way station on the path to somewhere else,” I explained. “A safe, comfortable place to stop for the night and catch your breath, before you reach your destination.”

“A galactic bed and breakfast?” Marais took another bite.

“An inn,” Sean said.

“And you’re…”

“An innkeeper,” I told him. “I keep my guests safe and their existence secret at all costs.”

“Who else knows?” he asked.

“Other innkeepers like me.”

“Does the President know?”

“I have no idea,” I told him honestly. “Probably not.”

Marais pondered the doughnut. He was taking all of this rather calmly. But then he’d had a lot of clues along the way.

“Why?” Marais asked.

“It’s a bargain we made hundreds of years ago. Have you gassed up your car yet?”

“Not yet. Waiting until it gets below a quarter of a tank.”

“We made the bargain, so civilizations like his-” I pointed at Arland, whose engineer had modified the car, “-don’t conquer us. They have numbers and superior technology. Without the treaty that designated Earth as safe neutral ground, we’d be purged, eaten, or enslaved. The galaxy is a big and vicious place.”

“So what happens when people find out?” Marais asked. “Because they will find out.”

“It’s been well over a thousand years and they haven’t found out yet,” I said. “If we break the treaty and expose the existence of our guests or fail to prevent that exposure, the consequences will be severe.”

“What will happen?” Marais asked.

“Innkeepers will either kill you or leave you in some hellhole,” Sean said. “You’ll never get home.”

I could tell by his face that Marais didn’t like it.

“It wouldn’t be good for people to find out,” I said. “We’re a young civilization. People would panic. They would lose their faith. They would want to go to war with the universe. You have police codes, because you don’t want bystanders showing up to every crime scene. You restrict public access. So do we.”

Marais mulled it over. “What about the pale-haired punk? What’s his deal?”

It took about ten minutes to explain the Hiru and the Draziri. I had to go into detail on innkeeper's powers and inn’s grounds.

“So they are in violation of the treaty and nothing happened so far. This doesn’t fill me with confidence as to the effectiveness of your internal law enforcement.”

“I’ve reported it,” I explained. “It takes time.”

“Is there any way I can look at this treaty?” Marais asked.

In for a penny, in for a pound. “Yes.”

I opened a screen in the wall and brought the treaty up on it. Marais took out a notepad and a pen and began taking notes. We waited. Fifteen minutes later, he stood up.

“So?” I asked. “What now?”

“Now I’ll have to think about it. No more acts of violence outside of the inn,” he said. “At least try to keep it to a minimum. I’ll let you know what I decide. I can tell you that so far you are in the clear. I sat in the cruiser after the fight and nobody came out to check with me and no emergency calls had been made. It’s the morning after a holiday. Most people slept in.”