Jake shook his head. “One of the good things about elders is they don’t actually reproduce. They’re made from living intelligent beings who want to escape death. And it’s done by old fashioned organic beings. So if we humans have the sense not to make everyone and his brother an elder just because they want to be immortal, and the elders who first brought us into the Eightfold jealously guard their hard won prerogatives against immigrants, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Joey shrugged, shifted his weight on the wooden chair again. “It could work. Are you a natural optimist?”

The other man shook his head. “Not really. I’m just more worried about the civil war part. Just try to keep an eye on Emerald, if you can. And talk to me. I can sort of tell which one of you is talking to me, and Diopside is better at it.”

There was a short but uncomfortable silence, while Joey contemplated the difficulty of spying on a being who knew his every move, and reporting via a body and voice he did not always control. Not to mention that there was nobody around he could entirely trust.

To his surprise Jake began peeling off bills from the thick wad in his hand. The ones on the outside seemed to be fifties. That had to be at least ten already, five hundred dollars. And he was still counting. Was he really going to give that money to Joey or was this some sort of test?

Sure enough he still held the little pile of bills away from Joey. Then he blinked. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Jake was giving him the thick wad he had peeled off the bills from.

“I’m keeping a thousand for emergencies. The rest is nine thousand, which isn’t as much as it sounds like, so don’t spend it on stupid stuff. You might as well like here, since the elders can find you and Emerald anyway.

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“There’s only one antique weapon dealer in this city who’d be likely to have that thing on hand. If you have to order it through the mail it may take awhile, and I don’t know how much time you have.”

Jake shoved the thick wad of bills into his hands impatiently, then began writing down the address for This End Towards Enemy on a scrap of paper.

Without Joey even thinking about it, he began breaking up the thick wedge of bills and hiding it in different places around his person. Apparently that was one of the things he was good at.

The other man continued, “Try and bargain the owner down a little, but be prepared to spend five or six thousand for a pair of dueling pistols. He should show you the basics of using them, but you’ll probably end up paying him most of the rest of the money for lessons. I doubt you’ll be able to get the lessons without buying the pistols, since regular practice will put wear and tear on them.”

Apparently Jake knew or had researched a bit about antique pistols. The fact that Joey had given him so much money so readily really brought home the fact that his life was at stake.

“Make damned sure you’re back by seven thirty though. If you’re even a few minutes late I’m sure Sapphire will try and convince the River you didn’t bother to come. I’m still hoping we can get the River to forbid this though. I mean, to declare that you’re the legitimate representative of Green Sword Honor, and that the Embassy will simply be incomplete if Sapphire tries to replace you with a puppet.”

The vision of Mario as a puppet was incongruous and momentarily amusing. Despite the gravity of the situation it made Joey smile. He had a lot to do today.

Finding the store had taken longer than he had expected. It wasn’t in Babylon proper, more past the outskirts of town. Space was cheaper here, though it wasn’t a bad neighborhood like the location of the Mayor’s secret mansion. It occurred to Joey that a larger building meant there was more likely to mean there was a shooting range inside, which he would badly need.

The store was nicer inside than outside, though it was more focused on modern weaponry than he would have hoped. Some of the antique knives looked nice though.

He had just gotten to the guns when a man with a handlebar mustache approached him. He was dressed in black and looked rather like an old fashioned style villain.

“You have good taste,” the man told him. “Expensive but good.”