Gun Sage

by Skyler Grant

  "What has this got to with us?" Van asked.

  "Opportunity, my good sir. My Silibah doesn't have her inheritance yet, and her mother is against the marriage until I can prove myself a ... go-getter. I've got things that need doing by muscle, and other muscle that needs to be stopped from throwing me in a cell. So I thought, why not take care of both matters at once?" Mortimer said, gesturing broadly.

  "You can't expect us to take this seriously. You're renowned for conning the innocent and the foolish," Van said.

  "Just think what a great businessman I'll make. New Diablos was made by men like me. It's going to be inherited by men like me and you can be a part of that."

  Part of Van wanted to just throw him over the back of a horse and take the guaranteed payment. A part was curious to hear what more he had to say.

  "We can't trust him, but that doesn't mean we can't profit from him," Alexa said.

  "Join me somewhere more comfortable and I'll make my full pitch?" Mortimer asked.

  "Fine," Van said, questioning the word as soon as he said it.

  26

  When killing just isn't enough consider grinder rounds. Guaranteed to perforate internal organs without immediate death. Revenge demands suffering. At all major ammunition retailers.

  Mortimer led them over to a small shack. It looked like it must have been for a foreman. Various paperwork on the walls seemed to be mining permits and charts.

  "You won't regret this. Not at all, not at all," Mortimer said, taking a seat behind the desk and opening a drawer to pull out a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. Portions were poured and he settled back.

  "You'll find you can't poison me," Alexa said.

  "I do hope that doesn't mean you can't get drunk, my dear. What a tragedy it would be to miss one of the greatest pleasures this life has to offer." Mortimer downed one of the glasses.

  Alexa shrugged and took another, chugging it down. "Just whiskey as far as I can tell. Surprisingly decent whiskey."

  "How many times must I tell you I am a man of wealth now? Power and taste. Or at least a man of taste aspiring to the other two," Mortimer said.

  Van took the third glass. It seemed the thing to do. The liquid burned going down and he couldn't tell if it was any good or not, just that it had a kick.

  "You're doing a lot of selling and not a lot of giving any details," Van said.

  Mortimer reached into a pocket and pulled out a bundle of coins, tossing it onto the table. "A deposit, as it were. A sign of good faith. Maybe a tiny bit an apology. Five hundred, half of what's on my head. Yours, if you can talk the Guild into lifting the bounty."

  "Half for not bringing you in? We'll be paid in full for fulfilling the contract. You're a good talker, but so far bad at math," Alexa said.

  "Not to mention I don't think we can even do that," Van said.

  Alexa told him, "We might. The Guild doesn't have to take a contract, it can refuse one. It might be unusual and we'd probably have to cover what they're losing, but we might get them to do it."

  "See? Problem solvers! That is what the two of you are. Problem solvers. Now let me tell you about the problems I have—besides the two of you, of course. You ever heard of the CMC, the Crom Mining Consortium?" Mortimer asked, glancing between them.

  "We're new here," Van said.

  Mortimer topped off the glasses. "They're the biggest stakeholder on New Diablos and they are right bastards. Their miners come from other worlds, indentured, brought here thinking they're going to buy out contracts they never quite escape from."

  Alexa frowned at that. "There was something similar back on Cherapol. Not as big. Company towns, worker pays for their lodging and their food, and they never quite get out from under the boot."

  "Exactly, dear lady, exactly. Now, I may have a shady past, but I have never undertaken theft on such a scale as they manage. And it isn't just their workers. They raid other mines, shoot up the place, shoot up the workers, break the machinery. Force a mine to go quiet long enough and the owner loses so much they wind up selling."

  "And they're threatening to steal the mines you hoped to steal—right out from under you," Alexa said flatly.

  Mortimer's smile turned strained. "Dear lady. I assure you I have only the best intentions at heart. Yes, yes, I know that my past is spotty, but when you are holding four of a kind you finish the hand."

  Alexa looked at Van. "I know what I think. What about you?"

  "I think he is a slimy, untrustworthy toad and yet I think he might just be the lesser evil here. Am I crazy?" Van asked.

  "Completely, although in this case I agree. That doesn't mean I'm on board until we talk about compensation. These mines, any of them essence-based?" Alexa asked Mortimer.

  "One is enhanced copper, sometimes a bit of silver. Beautiful stuff, the sheen on it you would not believe."

  "Just for getting the contract voided I'll want three ounces of the copper and one of the silver. That in addition to the coins you've already paid," Alexa said.

  Mortimer blinked. "My dear lady. Perhaps you don't know what that is worth at current valuations? Or are unaware of the fact that I can't simply walk into the mine myself and pluck it out."

  "You're a liar and a thief. So lie and steal," Alexa said.

  "Madam, you are as hard a negotiator as you are beautiful," Mortimer said, not sounding entirely happy about the fact and he chugged down another drink. "I'll try. Try."

  From outside there came the sound of hoof-beats and the conversation of men.

  "Was this an ambush after all?" Van asked.

  "Not at all, dear sir. Not at all. I suspect this is the first chance for you to help me. This is the CMC coming to burn, loot, shoot up and generally destroy everything which gets in their path—which you both now are," Mortimer said.

  "I could still shoot you, you know," Van said.

  Alexa said, "Remember, we don't get any money for him dead. If you shoot him, shoot him in the knees."

  "Three jobs, stopping this attack is the first. I'll pay your metals and twenty thousand," Mortimer said hastily.

  "Think he can actually afford that or do I shoot him?" Van asked Alexa.

  "I think he can, if things work out for this. Understand this though, thief. Screw with us, betray us, short us, or try to run without even trying to make it right, and I won't be hunting you for the Guild but rather for myself," Alexa said, the threat clear.

  Mortimer gave an exaggerated shrug. "I would expect nothing less, dear lady, nothing less. That sheer ruthless charisma means that I picked exactly the right team for the job. Now off, off, show these ruffians that I am not a man to be trifled with."

  27

  Personal Profile: Taura Lea, also known as the Lady of Wrath. Believed to currently be in her eighth evolution she is drawing close to ascension by following the Path of the Red Claw. The Golden Horror are believed to be her patrons and the Divine Thirteen Sisters are actively working to limit her advancement.

  Van followed Alexa out the door.

  "This really is a terrible idea, you know," Van said.

  "Possibly. But meeting us was a bold move. I like bold moves," Alexa said, casting her gaze around. "I sense a dozen."

  They crept close to the sounds of men talking.

  There were a dozen horses. One man had a bundle on the ground and was carefully unfolding it to reveal sticks of explosives. All the men looked to be well armed, rifles along with a pistol on their hip. A few even wore armored breastplates.

  "Simms, Dukon, outside the lodgings. When we blow the equipment they'll come running. You don't need to kill them all, but let's make sure none of them ever come back. Vanya, rig the supports. Bring their entrance down," said a man who was clearly the leader.

  Alexa pointed to the explosives on the ground. Van nodded.

  Drawing a pistol Van took aim. It was a difficult shot from this distance. All the breathing exercises that he'd been doing helped. There was a sense of focus that he hadn't had before, the ability
to center himself in the moment, taking the shot becoming the focus of his whole mind.

  With his eyes on the target he pulled the trigger.

  The explosives were volatile and when the bullet struck the sticks went up. The man kneeling over them wasn't so much thrown back as pulped and splattered, a spray of blood and bone scattering through the air. In the shadows beyond him the tethered horses panicked.

  Alexa charged forward towards the leader who already has his rifle out. Alexa ducked low under a shot with her fluid grace. It wasn't enough—the bullet circled back around and took her from behind. A small explosion knocked her forward, her aggressive charge turning into sprawling to the dirt.

  The leader had seeker rounds. Not just seeker rounds, it looked like some sort of combination of explosive rounds and seekers. The weapon shop hadn't even told Van that was a possibility. He imagined they were well out of his price range anyway.

  Van had to trust that Alexa had him handled. A number of the raiders were still dazed from the explosion and he focused his fire on them. Given that some had chest armor he tried to target heads or the legs.

  Two went down with head-shots. Then Van was thrown backward, an explosive round catching him in the shoulder. Even through the armor it hurt, and even worse than the pain it was disorienting. The middle of a battle was no place to be disoriented, lost and confused. That was the sort of thing that would get you killed faster than anything.

  Van pushed himself back to his feet, his body aching, and three bullets struck him in the helmet. Once again he was thrown back with his head ringing. Not before he snapped off a shot catching a raider in the leg.

  The fight might not have felt like it was being won, but he was pretty sure it was. Van was certain Alexa was still alive and so was he, which was better than their opponents were doing. His helmet was in bad shape though.

  The tactical display was flickering madly and was more obscuring his vision then helping with it. Still, after just taking multiple hits to the head he wasn't about to remove it.

  Through the static he could see Alexa dragging the leader from his horse. Alexa was looking rough, her shirt shredded and one arm a bloody mess. A frosted-over bloody mess.

  Van went to get up again and a shotgun blast caught him in the face. His vision was suddenly on fire—it must be an incendiary shell. A man was standing over him, gun pointed downward and he fired off another blast.

  Van couldn't see if he was armored or not and put two shots into him with no effect. Right, armored then. Van focused on his right pistol and, aiming at his attacker's body, emptied the pistol. The last round in the chamber was the piercer. The man stumbled back, clutching at his chest and toppling over.

  Van wobbled as he got to his feet once more. His vision now was almost all static, soot, and flames. Several blows to his helmet from his fist lessened the static a little.

  Of the twelve who had arrived six were on the ground, and four of the others looked to be making a retreat. They were in the process of getting back on their horses.

  Van's pistols were out of ammunition and he didn't trust his shaking hands to reload. Holstering them, he pried the pistol from the waist of the man he'd just killed. The shotgun had been effective, but after shooting Van twice in the face he wasn't sure it had any more life left in it. It was best not take chances.

  A shot caught Van in the back, punching him forward. Turning, he didn't immediately see the source. For once his helmet did its job, the targeting reticule shifting to highlight someone high up on one of the pieces of mining equipment.

  They'd gone for a height advantage. Smart, but running would have been smarter.

  Van wasn't familiar with the pistol he was holding and it wasn't nearly as well-balanced as his own. Even after steadying himself with breathing his first shot went wide, as did his second. The third caught the sniper and he vanished backward.

  Alexa had handled the leader. Van was glad he hadn't seen the man die. From the looks of things all the blood from his body had gushed in a torrent from his eyes.

  The remaining raiders were riding away and Van was in no mood to follow.

  "Mortimer made his escape in the middle of the fight," Alexa said, exhausted.

  "Figures. These guys were well-equipped," Van said.

  "With CMC backing them, they've got the money for it. Strip them down. I'll find us a cart for the bodies just in case any of them had bounties on their heads," Alexa said.

  28

  "Just as the best lies are truth, the best truths are lies." Path of the Storyteller

  They rode back to town with the cart full of bodies and gear.

  "So, you're pretty much there. I can tell. When we get back to town I'm going to talk with the Peasants. They'll have the resources we need. I think it's time we talk about what that's going to be," Alexa said.

  "I get a choice?"

  Alexa gave him a wry look. "I didn't, but then I had to walk the path that Yui walked. You need to be strong. You don't have to follow in your Prime's footsteps."

  "So what are my options?"

  "We're going to start with body. It is usually the first. The most common by far is a purification. It's hard to go wrong for most people with that route. If they were sickly, they no longer are. Physical imperfections and flaws are polished away. It's almost certainly what your Prime did," Alexa said.

  "But you've said before you don't think that's right for me."

  "You're like me, a clone, and not a cheap one. Polished bright, shiny, and new. We're made pretty much so we don't have to be purified. We can skip a stage, get a little more power," Alexa said.

  "Then we want to do that," Van said. While he wasn't quite sure he was perfect—and he wasn't that arrogant anyway—ever since he'd woken up in that room he had been stronger, more capable.

  "The second stage rituals really start to define you. Who you are, what you are. Usually it comes from exposing the body to extreme and normally fatal danger. Mine was ice, the mixture of cold and water, but there are a lot of possibilities," Alexa said.

  "And you've said before fire, metal, and wind, all seem like good possibilities," Van said.

  "All in some way components of a gun. Parts of what you want to incorporate in yourself. It's also possible to do more than one. I am cold and water both, and while at the early evolutions that makes me weaker than a specialist in a single element, in the long term it makes me more powerful."

  That was interesting.

  "Is there any drawback for taking more than one?" Van asked.

  "It ups the odds of dying dramatically. Clans that focus on a single element only lose perhaps one in ten in the early stages. With two it is more like one in ten survive. I and my sisters, if you want to call them that, are particularly well-suited for our elements and we still lose one in eight."

  That was sobering.

  It was one thing to crave power, and looking at what people like Alexa could do made Van crave that for himself. But the risk of him dying in the next few days was very real, and if he were ambitious enough—very likely.

  "What are my other options?"

  "If we aren't dealing with something that can kill you from the outside, it's something that can kill you from the inside. Poison, disease, parasites. There are paths that involve taking all of these and making them a part of yourself," Alexa said.

  "Like the Widows?"

  "Probably. While I don't know anything about their path, I imagine they're given lethal doses of venom from one particular spider. Perhaps excessively lethal, if they're ambitious. They channel as much of it as they can through their body, changing their very essence around it."

  "And that is the point, right? That's how you described what happened to you. The foolish fought the cold, but you embraced it."

  Alexa was silent for a moment and shrugged. "That is what I did. I know it's possible to do it other ways. Some paths are all about strengthening what the body already is, honing it to an edge that can fight off anything else. But
most paths? We merge in part with something else, take it inside of us and start to reflect it."

  "So elemental death. Toxic death. Those are the options," Van said.

  "And they aren't the only ones, although I think there are the best. There are other paths. There are complex alchemies that can transform your body. There's a whole path around sexual intercourse and the exchange of energies. Some fast their way to new enlightenment," Alexa said.

  "Well, at least one of those sounds fun," Van said wryly.

  "You don't want fun. None of those are right for you. You want to be a weapon sage and that means violence. That means we make things as violent, as dangerous, and as terrible as possible. You can pick the direction you want to go, but you won't know the challenge until you face it. You won't know how bad I'm going to make you suffer until you're in the middle of it."

  Well, that all sounded terrible. Necessary, but terrible.

  "There's one other option, although I don't think you'll choose it. The path of the fire giants. Their house may be gone now, but they were a power. The fire giantess is likely able to help you along that road," Alexa said.

  Strong was good, but their kind of strength hadn't been enough to save them.

  "Elemental. Wind, fire, and metal. I want to try to master all three," Van said.

  Alexa looked at him for a long moment. It was hard to tell, her features were often so cold, but for a moment she seemed pensive.

  She nodded.

  She said, "Triple paths are incredibly rare, but not impossible. I said it was your choice, and it is. I'll find a way to arrange it. Find a place to sell this gear and see what you can get for the bodies."

  29

  "Moving currency between worlds is always a problem. While galactic scrip is your best option, on some further out worlds even that is unknown. Always devote some cargo space to a range of luxuries just in case you need to refuel far from home." Journal of the Traders Guild. Issue 19714212