The Chimney: The Merc Papers

by G. T. Spoor

  Mr. Marka lifted an eyebrow. “Are you seriously going to risk your life for this… this delinquent?”

  Pausing for a moment, Emily shrugged. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to save the delinquent I was after, so to make sure my day’s not a total loss, why not?”

  “But you don’t even know him.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can turn a blind eye to his suffering.”

  His eyes narrowed and he studied Emily closely. “Interesting,” he said. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you interfere.” Turning to the ogre, he waved him forward. “Lugdum. Please escort the young lady back to the street.”

  The ogre casually tossed Sinclair into the garbage and turned toward Emily. She took a few steps back.

  “Wait. Wait,” she called out.

  Marka smiled. “So, you have decided to leave on your own. A wise choice.”

  “No, it’s not that,” she said before reaching down inside her pant leg and pulling out the two metal rods. “I needed to get these. I’ve only had them for a few days and still haven’t figured out how to use them.” She held one in each hand. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

  Lugdum looked over at Marka for help. The white-haired man shrugged. The ogre cautiously advanced. Emily adjusted her grips on the tyng.

  The technique had a variety of names, depending on who you asked. Some called it tang-gar, others dim-mak, a few even referred to it as shallabraiea, but it all came down to a simple concept—fluxus vitae. There were seventy-six vulnerable points on the body, that when struck with the right amount of force, could disrupt the flow of life, causing pain, paralysis, or even death. Emily never truly mastered the technique since those points were very small and hard to hit unless the target was very large and moving slow.

  Lugdum’s hesitation was to her advantage.

  When the ogre reached out to grab her, she easily avoided his grasp. Sliding to one side, she struck at the vital areas of his left knee, points twenty-two, twenty-three, and twenty-four. She hit them in rapid succession, one after the other. The ogre’s leg buckled and he went down hard. Bracing himself on the ground, Lugdum pivoted and lashed out at her with his free hand. Emily jumped back, then spun in, striking points twelve and thirteen, temporarily paralyzing his right arm.

  Lugdum whimpered and struggled to get to his feet.

  “Enough,” Marka shouted.

  Lowering the tyng, Emily backed away.

  She could have easily finished the ogre, but it would serve no purpose. He was not her enemy, nor was he any longer a threat. Besides, the taking of one’s life was one rule she refused to break.

  Marka approached, keeping his distance. “You surprise me, young lady, and I am not a man easily surprised. What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t.”

  He smiled. “No, of course you didn’t. I could use someone like you. Skilled, deadly, unassuming. You would be a valuable asset.”

  “I’m afraid what I value might be quite different from what you value.”

  “Yes. I suppose so.” He looked past Emily to where Sinclair was pulling himself out of the garbage. “You may have won this day, but I’m not sure what you won.”

  “It’s not what I won, Mr. Marka. It’s what I didn’t lose.”

  Marka looked over to where Lugdum was still trying to get to his feet. “Will I need a new enforcer?” he asked.

  “No. The use of his arm will return in time. An hour, maybe sooner.”

  “Remarkable,” the man said, shaking his head. He carefully fixed the brim of his hat. “Well, young lady. If you’re ever in need of a job, ask for me at the Dirty Parrot. As for you, Mr. Sinclair,” he shouted past Emily, “you have one week. Don’t make me come after you again. I don’t think your angel will always be around to save you.”

  Retrieving Lugdum’s hat from where it landed, Marka slapped it against the side of his leg. He handed it back to the ogre before helping him to his feet. Turning to Emily, he gave a slight bow. “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again,” he said before leading Lugdum out of the alley.

  “Well, that went better than I thought,” Emily said.

  She turned back to where Sinclair was now on his feet. He was picking the remains of someone’s dinner from his suit jacket. She had to agree with Marka on one thing: she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d won. Sinclair was of average height, maybe a little taller. A young man, slim build, short ash-brown hair, which, at the moment, was a bit of a mess. He didn’t seem the type to hang around with the likes of Mr. Marka. If it wasn’t for his disheveled appearance, she would have placed him with a much higher class of company. Stepping out of the garbage, he slowly approached her.

  “Thanks for the assist,” he said with a lopsided grin. “But I had everything under control.”

  “Oh yes, it looked that way.”

  “Those were some pretty fancy moves you made there. Don’t think I’ve seen anything like it before, the way you took Lugdum down and all. You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Not too many girls can handle themselves that way.”

  Emily shrugged, turned around, and headed back to the street.

  “Wait. Where are you going? I don’t even know your name,” Sinclair called out.

  “That’s right. You don’t.”

  “Oh, so that’s the way it’s going to be.” He laughed.

  “It’s not going to be any way, Mr. Sinclair. I need to get home and you… you need a bath.”

  “Is it that bad?” He stopped and sniffed the sleeve of his jacket. “Yeah, you’re probably right, but at least let me see you home first.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll find my own way.”

  As Emily stepped back out onto the streets, three wagons approached from the west—large, square vehicles with pictures of blue tigers on their doors. They slowed down as they got closer. Sinclair grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the alley.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be a Merc, would you?” he asked. There was a hint of desperation in his voice.

  “Of course not. Why?”

  “Because those are Blue Tiger hot-tops and you’re carrying Blue Tiger weapons. If I was you, I’d ditch them fast.”

  Emily looked down at the tyng. The last thing she needed was more problems with the Mercs, especially the Blue Tigers. She quickly tossed the rods into one of the larger garbage bins. It was a shame to part with them. She was just getting the hang of them.

  “Stay back, keep quiet, and let me do the talking,” Sinclair said.

  The hot-tops pulled up to the curb and vir started climbing out. There were four total and they were all dressed in blue, from head to foot. Each one had the face of a tiger painted on their breastplate. One of the Mercs, a short, stocky fellow with a thin goatee, stepped forward. With a quick flick of his wrist, he produced a metal rod from one hand and started slapping it in the open palm of the other. He wore a cocky smile.

  “We received word of a disturbance.”

  Sinclair glanced up and down the street, then casually pulled at the cuffs of his jacket. “No disturbance around here,” he said. “You must have the wrong place.”

  “Is that right?” Goatee kept his distance, but that could have been more to do with the way Sinclair smelled than any actual fear of the disheveled young man. Goatee looked past him into the alley. When he saw Emily, his eyes widened. “You there, come into the light.”

  Sinclair quickly stepped between them.

  “Don’t you guys have anything better to do than to harass two people on a date? I’m sure you can find a few old ladies to fleece or a couple of children to shake down.”

  If this was his way of diffusing the situation, Emily was not impressed. If anything, he was only making matters worse. Goatee beckoned to his men—the three Mercs advanced. Not wanting to see this go any further, she stepped out of the shadows.

  “Well, well, look who we found.” Goatee grinned. “You’re
coming with us, little lady.”

  “What for?” Sinclair asked.

  “We have reason to believe your date was involved in an assault on three Blue Tigers.”

  “You must be kidding.” He laughed. “Are you saying you think this little girl beat up three Mercs?”

  Goatee hesitated. He looked to his men for support, but they appeared to be as uncomfortable with the situation as he was. “There were… extenuating circumstances,” he finally said. “But we believe she might have been involved in some way.”

  “I see. And when did this alleged assault supposedly take place?”

  “Two days ago, in sector eight.”

  “Well, then it couldn’t have been her,” Sinclair said. “She was with me at that time.”

  “I didn’t exactly say when it happened.”

  “It doesn’t matter, she was with me all day.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe you?”

  “Believe what you want, but the facts are the facts. Isn’t it more likely she would be with someone like me rather than picking fights with Blue Tigers?”

  “And who, precisely, are you, sir?” Goatee asked.

  Sinclair stepped forward. He adjusted the lapels of his jacket and brushed off his sleeves. “The name is Sinclair. Arthur Sinclair.”

  The blood drained from Goatee’s face. “Sinclair?” he said, barely above a whisper.

  “That’s correct. I’m sure you’re familiar with my uncle.”

  “Of course, Mr. Sinclair. I didn’t recognize you. Sorry to have bothered you. It’s obvious now she’s not the one we’re looking for.”

  “No, I didn’t think so. Now, if you’d be so kind as to leave us alone, I’d like to take the young lady home.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course, Mr. Sinclair,” Goatee stammered. He waved for his men to get back into their vehicles. Once they were all inside, the hot-tops pulled away from the curb.

  Sinclair waited until they were out of sight.

  “Idiots,” he mumbled.

  “What was that all about?” Emily asked.

  “You tell me. You appear to be the one who’s on the Tigers’ most-wanted list. Do you make it a habit of skulking around alleys and beating up people?”

  “Of course not.”

  Sinclair laughed. “I was only joking. It was probably a case of mistaken identity.”

  “And besides, I didn’t know they were Mercs to being with,” Emily said.

  Sinclair gasped. “Are you saying you actually did assault three Blue Tiger Mercs?”

  “Not all by myself.”

  “What are you, insane? I mean, is this like a hobby of yours? Fighting men in back alleys.”

  “Only since I’ve arrived here.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “I mean, what’s in it for you?”

  “The knowledge that I did something when I could. That’s enough.”

  “No,” Sinclair said, shaking his head. “It has to be more than that. Nobody goes out of their way for somebody they’ve never met before.”

  “You should be thankful that I did. I don’t think your Mr. Marka was going to let you walk out of that alley on your own.”

  “I’ve dealt with Marka before.”

  “Yes, I figured as much. Why was he so eager to make an example of you?”

  “No reason in particular. Let’s say I owe him a bit of money.”

  “I’m guessing it was more than a bit.”

  “Maybe.”

  Emily held up her hands “You’re right, it’s none of my business,” she said before walking away.

  Sinclair caught up to her.

  Gripping her shoulder, he spun her around. Grabbing his wrist, she dropped him to his knees. Only when he screamed in pain did she let go. He backed off.

  “Char, girl. I was only going to offer to take you home,” he said

  “I can find my own way home. Thanks anyway.”

  Emily stopped when she reached the intersection. From there she had no idea which way to go. Somehow she had gotten turned around. She was not paying attention when she followed Brian, and even though he didn’t lead her far from the transit station, she couldn’t remember how to get back. Nothing looked familiar.

  “Looks like you need my help after all,” Sinclair said. “It’s not likely you’re going to find a—”

  “Jitney, ma’am?”

  She didn’t see him at first, but then she wasn’t looking for him. Tar was sitting on the bumper of his jitney. It was almost as if he was waiting for her. He got up when she approached and walked around to the side of the vehicle. Opening the back door, he waved her in.

  “Where ta, ma’am?” he asked as he climbed into the driver seat.

  “Home,” she answered.

  Putting the vehicle in gear, Tar pulled away from the curb. Emily looked back at Sinclair, who was standing in the street watching the jitney drive away. When they turned the corner, and she could no longer see him, she faced forward and settled into the seat.

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “Thought ya might need a ride,” Tar answered.

  “But how did you know where to find me?”

  “What difference does it make? Ya needed a ride, didn’t ya?”

  “It makes a difference if you were following me.”

  “I wasn’t following ya.”

  “Then how did you know where to find me?”

  “It’s a little hard to explain.”

  “Try me.”

  Tar sighed. “It’s my gram.”

  “Your grandmother was following me?”

  “No.” He laughed. “She used to tell stories of the old days. About the tribes, when the orcs ruled the northern territories before… well… before we all ended up in here. We’ve lived in this city for seven, maybe even eight generations. We lost a lot of our culture. Some of it was taken from us. Some of it we simply forget and some… well… some we had ta leave behind. My family came from a long line of tribal shamans. At least that’s what my gram used ta say. It was our job to advise the chief of when ta go ta war and when ta negotiate peace. Of course, there’s no chiefs anymore, so there’s no more need for shamans. Just another piece of culture we lost, but my gram, she was always proud of our line. She had the far-sight and she said I had it too. The ability ta see things that no other orc could see. I can’t say I believed everything she told me, but there are times when I… well… get these feelings—ya know? It’s hard to explain. When I was younger, I used ta pass it off as nonsense, wishful thinkin’. Wantin’ ta be somethin’ more than I was. You remember that fire I told ya about? I knew about it before it happened, well… not exactly, I mean I didn’t know there was goin’ ta be a fire. I had a feeling somethin’ bad was goin’ ta happen, but I didn’t do nothin’ about it—and people died. After that, I started payin’ more attention to the feelings. Can’t tell you how many times they got me out of a jam.”

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said. “But I’m afraid I’m not following you. Are you trying to tell me you’re a mystic?”

  “Mystic? Hardly,” Tar answered. He seemed almost offended. “Orcs want nothin’ to do with that freaky stuff.”

  “So, what then?”

  “It’s as I said. My family was gifted with the far-sight. My grandmother had it and it seems I have it as well but not as strong.”

  “Are you trying to say you saw me in need of a ride?”

  “Well, not quite. I spotted the Blue Tiger heading in this here direction and that’s when I got the feeling ya was involved somehow. Call it a hunch. I followed them here to see what was goin’ down. When I saw ya steppin’ out of that alley, I knew I was right. I figured they’d either arrest ya, kill ya, or simply let ya go, and if they let ya go, ya might be needing a ride.”

  Emily laughed. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you followed your hunch.”

  “As I said. They’ve served me in the past. Now, how about you? What were ya doing down here and
whose the dude ya were out there with? This ain’t the most romantic spot for a date.”

  “There was no date. I got him out of a tight spot, that’s all.”

  “And got the Blue Tigers involved as well I see, even after I warned ya to be careful about that.”

  “Yeah, that was strange. They said they were responding to a disturbance—but how did they know?”

  “Whisper stones.”

  “What?”

  “Whisper stones.” Tar tapped on the dashboard of the jitney. Emily leaned forward to get a better look. Embedded in the wood was a small glowing green stone.

  “A bit of Mana-Tech,” Tar said. “All the hot-tops are equipped with them. They allow for long-distance communication. A bit dodgy though. Not sure how they work.”

  “The more I see, the less I understand,” she said, falling back into her seat.

  “All I know is every so often, it will tell me the location of the Blue Tigers. That way, I know where not to be. So, what were ya doing down here, then, if ya weren’t on a date.”

  “You remember that vir I was telling you about, the one called Brian?”

  “The one ya think poisoned ya.”

  “That’s the one. I followed him here, but I lost him. He got into a large black vehicle and took off. Don’t think he wanted to go.”

  “That’s quite common in this area. Large black vehicle ya say? Could be one of the families. If that be the case, ya may want to write old Brian off.”

  “Families?”

  “Oh yeah, they’re the ones who really control the Chimney, at least below the upper nine. It’s best ta stay clear of them if ya know what’s good for ya.” Tar slowed the jitney down at the intersection and looked at Emily through the rearview mirror. “So, where am I dropping ya off this time?”

  “I have to get back to the apartment. Sarah will be waiting for me.”

  “No problem. What’s the address?”

  Emily froze. “I… don’t know,” she said.

  Tar raised an eyebrow. “Okay, that is a problem. Somehow, I don’t think driving around until somethin’ looks familiar is goin’ to work this time. Do you have anythin’ to go on?”

  “Have you ever heard of a place called the Bird and Bay?”

  “The Bird and Bay? Yeah, I’ve heard of it. It’s an exclusive dive on the tenth tier in section six.”