“Ghosts. Who’d figure a lousy Frisco burger joint had ghosts in it?” Louie wouldn’t turn around.

  Paul gave up. He hurried out of Louie’s place and out of the neighborhood. Nobody came after him. No policeman’s whistle screeched. The bag was heavy with food. He went over to Union Square, not far away. The Victory Monument stood here, as it did in the home timeline. The breakpoint between the two worlds came after the Spanish-American War. In this alternate, that was almost the last glory the USA had won. Pigeons perched on the bronze figure representing naval power atop the tall column in the center of the square. Considering what the birds did to that figure, maybe they stood for air power.

  Like so much of this San Francisco, the square looked sad and run down. The grass needed watering and mowing. The wind swirled dust and wastepaper around the base of the Victory Monument. Nobody’d painted the park benches in a long, long time. When Paul sat down on one of them, the planks creaked and shifted. He wondered if it would hold his weight, and got ready to jump in a hurry.

  He gulped down one of the big, juicy hamburgers—heavy on the onions—and some fries and a chunk of baklava. By the time he got done, he felt as if he’d swallowed a bowling ball. The bag still had a lot of food in it. When Louie gave, he gave with both hands. Paul knew what he’d do for supper tonight.

  He wished he knew what to do after supper. The closest people from the home timeline he knew of were in Germany. Getting hold of them would have been easy … if he could have gone into Curious Notions.

  Dumb, Paul. You were really dumb. He made a fist and slammed it down on the bench. That was true, but did him no good. How do I fix things?

  “Don’t be dumb,” he said. Saying it was easy. Doing it? Doing it looked anything but.

  Every so often, Lucy walked by Curious Notions on the way home from work. She didn’t know why. The place stayed closed. But she did think walking by was safe enough. She was just one face on the street, and she never stopped. She didn’t even turn her head as she walked past. She just flicked her eyes to the right and kept on going. Plenty of people in the United States had learned that look-without-seeming-to glance. Not showing what you had in mind was often a good idea.

  Once she happened to see somebody coming out of the place. It was neither Paul Gomes nor his father. They weren’t the only ones who’d run the shop, though. Lucy paused. She pretended to think about buying a Chronicle. In fact, she gave the stranger a quick once-over.

  She needed about three seconds to decide he was a German. Probably a Feldgendarmerie man, she thought. His denim and big belt buckle and broad-brimmed hat were what an American would have worn. The way he walked wasn’t even close to American, though. He didn’t slouch along the way most men did. He marched. Lucy could almost hear the trumpets and tubas and drums behind him.

  And the way he looked around … Americans had known for well over a hundred years that they weren’t masters in their own homeland. They acted like it. They had to act like it—the ones who didn’t ended up in trouble or dead. A few of those lessons went a long way, especially when the Germans weren’t shy about dishing them out. This fellow looked at the world as if he owned it. For all practical purposes, he did. People on the street scrambled to get out of his way. Lucy wasn’t the only one who could figure out what he was.

  His cold, self-satisfied gaze fell on her. He had a face that ached for a slap, but who could deliver it? By the time he looked away, she was staring hard at the newspaper. He didn’t notice that she’d been eyeing him. On down the street past her he went. That invisible, inaudible oompah band still seemed to hover behind him.

  Lucy sighed. With people like that coming out of Curious Notions, Paul and his father had to be in a Feldgendarmerie jail. And I do have to see Stanley Hsu. She sighed again. She’d put if off as long as she could, and even a little longer than that. She didn’t want to have anything to do with the Triads. But fair was fair. She knew what she needed to do if she wanted to be able to go on looking at herself in the mirror.

  Maybe the jeweler would laugh at her. Maybe he’d ask an impossible price—she knew what she wanted wouldn’t come cheap. Maybe the Triads would do their best and fail. They weren’t top dogs—the Kaiser’s men were. Lucy wouldn’t feel ashamed if the Triads failed. They were her best hope. Trying her hardest to help the people who’d helped her was what counted.

  She started up the street toward Stanley Hsu’s shop. It was only a few blocks—but it felt like a long, long way. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself. She shrugged. If I do, I do, that’s all, she thought. It wouldn’t be the first time. It wouldn’t be the last. Everybody was a fool now and again. Acting the fool was part of living. The trick—or one trick, anyhow—was trying not to make a fool of yourself the same way twice.

  “Lucy! Is that you?”

  The voice came from in back of her. She whirled. “Hello!” she said. “What are you doing here? I thought you were … somewhere else.” Blurting out his name or that she’d thought he was in jail wouldn’t do. That might be the quickest way to land him there.

  His face twisted. “Just dumb luck that I’m not … somewhere else.” He understood what she meant, all right. He went on, “Happened I wasn’t home when we had, uh, visitors.” He came up to her. “It’s good to see you. It’s good to see anybody with a friendly face.”

  “I’m glad to see you, too,” Lucy answered. “I didn’t know if I would.”

  “Luck, like I told you,” Paul said. “Ah, you ought to know that there’s a price on my head. I look like a desperate criminal, don’t I?”

  He looked tired and worried and on edge. Lucy would have felt the same way. She asked, “What are you going to do now?”

  “Try to stay out of trouble myself. Try to get Dad out,” he answered. “I don’t know what else I can do right now. Things at Curious Notions didn’t exactly work out the way I wish they would have.” He hesitated. “I was thinking about asking the Tongs for help, but I’m not sure how to go about it.”

  “I was going to ask them for help for you—and for your father,” Lucy added hastily. “Do you want to come with me? I can put you in touch with someone who’s able to say yes or no, anyhow.” What else Stanley Hsu might say was an interesting question.

  Paul nodded. “Would you do that? Thank you very much.” Another pause. “You don’t suppose he’ll turn me in for the reward, do you?”

  “He doesn’t need the money,” Lucy said, remembering the jeweler’s sharp clothes and the fancy gems he sold. Then she realized that wasn’t all Paul was worrying about. Might Stanley Hsu have his own reasons for making some sort of deal with the Kaiser’s men? Of course he might, and Lucy knew it.

  The same knowledge showed on Paul’s face. One comer of his mouth twisted up in what wasn’t quite a smile. “Beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m a beggar right now,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  “Are you sure?” Lucy asked. He nodded again. She liked the way he made up his mind without a lot of fuss. He didn’t like what he was about to do, but he aimed to go ahead and do it.

  He grunted when she opened the door to Stanley Hsu’s shop. It didn’t look like much on the outside. He grunted again, on a different note, when he saw the kinds of things the jeweler had on his shelves. That’s more like it, he might have said without words.

  Stanley Hsu was standing behind the counter writing something when Lucy and Paul came in. “Hello, Miss Woo,” he said, polite as always. “Who is your … friend?” He too spoke without words, asking, Who is this stranger you’ve brought here?

  “I’m Paul Gomes.” Paul spoke for himself. He waited to see if his name meant anything to the jeweler.

  For a moment, it didn’t. Then Stanley Hsu’s dark, clever eyes narrowed. “Are you?” he murmured. “How interesting. I am very pleased to meet you, sir.”

  “I’m not nearly sure I’m pleased to meet you,” Paul said. “I suppose you know why I’m here.”

  Lucy shot him a warning glance. You had to be watch what you said if you wanted something from the Triads. But Stanley Hsu didn’t seem offended. Maybe he made allowances because Paul wasn’t Chinese. “I think I may,” he answered, his voice smooth as silk. “I suppose you know everything has its price.”

  “Oh, yes,” Paul said. “Well, my price is getting Dad out of the Germans’ jail. Do that, and we may have some more things to talk about.”

  Stanley Hsu’s nostrils flared. He’d been about to set the Triads’ price for helping Paul. Plainly, he didn’t like getting beaten to the punch. “You are not without gall, are you?” he said in a low voice.

  Shrugging, Paul answered, “I’m doing what I have to do. If you want to talk with me later, you’ll play along.”

  “I have other choices, you know,” the jeweler remarked. “The easiest would be to let the Feldgendarmerie have you along with your father.”

  “No!” Lucy said, though she’d thought of that, too.

  Paul amazed her by tipping her a wink. “Go ahead,” he told Stanley Hsu. “Yeah, go right ahead. Then when the Germans pump both of us, they’ll get whatever we know, and you’ll be sitting out in the cold. Enjoy it.”

  Just for a moment, the jeweler looked as if he’d bitten down hard on a lemon. Then all expression vanished from his face. “You do have gall,” he murmured. “We could also squeeze you ourselves, you know.”

  Lucy started to say No! again. Before the word could come out, Paul held up a hand to stop her. He smiled at Stanley Hsu. “Yes, you could,” he agreed. He sounded … friendly. Lucy couldn’t imagine how he made himself sound that way, but he did. Smiling still, he went on, “You can squeeze as hard as you want, Mr. Hsu. Squeeze hard enough, and I’ll tell you all sorts of things. I’m sure of it. But how will you know which ones to believe? Simple—you won’t.”

  “I should not care to meet you when you are as old as I am now,” Stanley Hsu said after half a minute’s silence. “You would be very difficult.”

  Proudly, Lucy said, “He’s already very difficult, and you know it.”

  That made the jeweler laugh out loud. “Well, what if he is? You don’t want me to give him a swelled head by admitting it, do you?” He nodded to Paul with what looked like real admiration. “You certainly have an interesting way to bargain. I can think of one thing that might bring you into line.”

  “Oh?” Paul said. “What’s that?”

  “I might squeeze Miss Woo. I think you would give true answers to make sure I didn’t.” Stanley Hsu played the game for its own sake. Anyone who got in his way was just an obstacle. He would go on through no matter what.

  He horrified Lucy. If he horrified Paul, the young man from Curious Notions didn’t show it. “Come on, Lucy,” he said. “This wasn’t a good idea. But that’s okay.” He patted a pocket. “I’ve got a recording of Mr. Hsu saying that. Playing it in the right places ought to do us some good.”

  “Wait!” Stanley Hsu said. A pistol appeared in his hand as if by magic. “When I say wait, I mean it.”

  “No, you don’t,” Paul said. “Think it through. If you shoot me, you don’t get any of the answers you want. If you shoot Lucy, you kill the only chance you’ve got of making me want to play along with you.”

  “You trust logic too far,” Stanley Hsu said. Even so, the pistol disappeared as fast as it had appeared. The jeweler added, “You tempt me to shoot you for no better reason than to show you that you don’t know it all.”

  “If I knew it all, I wouldn’t be in this mess, and neither would my father,” Paul said. “But I know enough to be worth something to you, and you can do some things I can’t. If you spring Dad, we can talk. If you don’t … well, I can talk to the Germans if I have to. I don’t want to, but that’s not what this is about.”

  Stanley Hsu gave Lucy a little bow. “You were right, Miss Woo. He is already very difficult.”

  “I told you so,” she said. Yes, she was proud of her strange friend from—and maybe not from—Thirty-third Avenue.

  The jeweler gave Paul Gomes a bow just like the one he’d sent Lucy’s way. “I believe we have a bargain. My … friends will do what they can for your father. If and when they get him away from the Feldgendarmerie, you will speak freely about some things that interest us.”

  “Yes. I agree.” Paul didn’t look happy about the deal. What did he know that he didn’t want to tell? Lucy knew she couldn’t ask him. Some of the things he knew, he didn’t want to tell her, either. She turned to go. Paul started to follow her.

  They both stopped when Stanley Hsu coughed. “Excuse me,” he said. “I do not wish to be annoying, but there is that recording you made, Mr. Gomes. I would like to have it, or to see it destroyed. Some people might, ah, misunderstand if you made it public.”

  “Might understand, you mean,” Lucy said. Stanley Hsu’s shrug was a small masterpiece.

  Lucy and the jeweler both stared at Paul when he laughed. “Excuse me,” Stanley Hsu said again, “but I do not see the joke.” Ice could have formed on his words.

  “Well, then, I’d better explain it,” Paul said. “The joke is, there never was any recording. I’ve got the clothes on my back, and that’s about it.”

  Stanley Hsu didn’t say anything for more than a minute. He looked at Paul the way he had to look at a stone in a setting when he was trying to decide if it was a diamond or a fake. At long last, he nodded. “All right,” he said. “I believe you. I don’t think anyone your age has ever bluffed me before. I don’t think you had better try it again, either.” He sounded quietly furious—at himself, at Paul, or maybe at both of them at once.

  Paul looked ready to say something snotty right back. Lucy sensed this wasn’t the right time for that. Before he could let loose with whatever he had in mind, she said, “Let’s go.” She didn’t shove him out the door, but she might as well have.

  Once he was out on the sidewalk, he blinked as if he didn’t quite know how he’d got there. Then, slowly—almost the way Stanley Hsu had—he nodded. “Thanks,” he said. “I probably would have said something dumb. I’m trying not to do that so much.” He paused. “Thanks for everything else, too.”

  “You’re welcome,” Lucy said, and then, “What are you eating?”

  “Mostly burgers and hot dogs—uh, franks—and stuff,” Paul answered. “I’ve got a room, and it’s got a hot plate, but I’m not much of a cook.”

  “That’s about what I thought. Do you want to come home for supper with me? There’s always room for one more.” Lucy wasn’t sure her mother would agree with her, but even if she didn’t, Paul would never know it. Mother would feed him till he was stuffed even if everybody in the family went hungry. Pride ran deep in her.

  Paul started to nod, but then caught himself. “I’d better not. It’s not because I don’t want to, but it probably wouldn’t be safe for you. If the Germans are still keeping an eye on your dad, and they see me show up … That wouldn’t be good, not even a little bit.”

  He was right. Lucy knew it as soon as she heard what he said. “It’s not fair,” she said, but she also knew fair didn’t have anything to do with it. It was smart. It was sensible.

  “Take care of yourself, and thanks one more time,” Paul said. “I’ll probably see you again before too long.”

  “I guess you will,” Lucy said. It wasn’t as if they were going out. They had a bond even so. “Where are you staying now?”

  “Tenderloin District.” He made a face. So did Lucy. The Tenderloin made the Sunset District seem like a Sunday picnic in Golden Gate Park. Paul went on, “I don’t think I’d better say just where. What you don’t know, nobody can make you tell.”

  Did he mean the Feldgendarmerie or the Triads? Either way, once more he made more sense than Lucy wished he did. He had a way of making sense. She’d noticed that. Most people blathered on and on, but he came straight to the point. Not even Stanley Hsu could match him. The jeweler was just as smart, maybe smarter—Lucy wasn’t sure she’d ever met anybody as smart as Stanley Hsu. But he enjoyed talking around things, talking in riddles, perhaps to show off how smart he was. Paul Gomes didn’t waste time fooling around. Lucy liked that better.

  “I’d better go.” Paul made as if to shake her hand, then seemed to think better of it. With a quick little nod, he hurried off toward the west.

  Lucy found herself wishing he hadn’t thought better of it. He’s shy, she realized in surprise. He hides it pretty well, but he is.

  With Paul gone, there wasn’t much point to standing in front of the jewelry store. She went on up into Chinatown to her crowded apartment.

  Her mother greeted her with, “You’re late. How come?” She explained. As she did, her mother’s face got longer and longer. “All these people at Curious Notions are nothing but trouble. Nothing but trouble, I tell you.”

  “Not quite nothing,” Lucy said. “Without them, Father might still be in jail.”

  “Without them, he wouldn’t have gone to jail in the first place,” Mother pointed out. Lucy made an unhappy face, for that was true, too. But then her mother added, “You should have brought him home to supper. Chicken stew tonight. I could have put on some extra rice to make it stretch. It’s about time the rest of us meet this mysterious fellow, don’t you think?”

  Before Lucy answered, she gave her mother a hug. Then she said, “I did ask him, but he didn’t want to come. He said it could bring more trouble down on us if the Germans were watching and saw him here.”

  “Oh.” Mother thought that over. Her mouth tightened. When she nodded, she plainly didn’t want to. “I won’t tell you he’s wrong. I wish I could, but I can’t. Should I be glad he’s doing us that kind of favor?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucy said. “Would you be glad if he didn’t?”

  “No-o-o,” her mother said slowly. Then she turned away, as if she didn’t want Lucy to see what she was thinking. “Go set the table, will you? Supper will be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Lucy said—almost always a safe answer.