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It took me a few minutes to gather my wits after the shock of being awakened ludicrously early and the alarming tale that Gumshoe had told. I pulled myself together with the aid of strong black coffee - not completely poisonous - a quick shower and a much-needed cigarette. Then I pulled on some clothes, and my coat and hat, and went out. The meeting with my brother in the Lower Realms was for breakfast at David's diner. Nether obviously knew more about my habits than he let on when we had met again so recently. Or perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. He always was a smart boy, excelled at school and destined to be a high-flyer, until whatever event caused him to drop out of sight. By the time I arrived, Nether was already settled at a table near the front, sipping coffee and reading a newspaper with the ease of one who had all the time in the world. He glanced up and waved languidly when I entered and looked around. I gently deflected David the patron, who was trying to usher me to my usual quiet booth at the back, and slid into the chair opposite Nether. "Good morning, Findo," he said, folding his paper neatly and placing it on the table. "Nether," I responded curtly. David bustled over, clutching two menus - not that I needed one, of course - and proffered them deferentially. Nether took the card graciously, with the air of one who has spent their entire life dining in fine restaurants. Maybe he had, for all I knew. I was beginning to wonder just how much I really knew about my elder brother. "I'm buying," he said, placing the menu on the table in front of him and nodding to David, who was hovering at a discreet distance. Not that Nether's offer was particularly generous. David's diner was generous with its portions and not at all expensive. It offered solid traditional Goblin cooking - heavy on the fungus - rather than haute cuisine and costly imported ingredients. The avuncular patron, displaying much more deference to my brother than he had ever done to me, bustled over. Nether unselfconsciously ordered the most expensive item on the menu, while I took the blue-plate special which would, I felt sure from long experience, offer the best ratio of stomach-filling to wallet-lightening. Our breakfasts appeared in double-quick time, delivered by David himself, rather than one of the interchangeable youngsters he habitually employed to heft plates from kitchen to table and back again. I tucked in heartily while my brother picked at his own plate with apparent indifference. Nether wisely declined to engage me in conversation until the food and more coffee hit the point, the calories beginning to compensate for the short night's sleep and the shock of awakening. When my plate was cleared, Nether pushed his own aside - he'd eaten less than half of it - and again picked up the newspaper. He folded it to an inside page and twisted it around to show me. "Look at this," he said, tapping an article on the page. I glanced at the headline he indicated. It read: "Smuggling Ring Busted in Dawn Raid."
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Part 46