Maggie was stunned into silence.
Velcro. Fucking fuck.
Nurse Manny pointed at the man with the bug legs. “That’s another model the doc developed.”
Model? The poor sap’s eyes were lost in another world, legs clicking in a feeble attempt to turn himself over.
“The legs are way too weak to carry his torso down here, but get him in zero g and he’ll be scooting up walls, across the ceiling. He’ll be perfect for going EVA, won’t need to fuck around with a jetpack or a tether.”
“He has no hands.”
“True. The doc still has to add those. That, or he might go with a prehensile tail. He’s gotten good at those.”
Deluski spoke up for the first time. “Why all this talk about zero g? The Orbital has artificial gravity.”
“They’re mining asteroids up there. Most are too small to worry about setting up any kind of permanent base. The space stations and space liners have gravity, but most of the mining facilities operate in zero g or whatever little gravity they get from the asteroids themselves.”
“Have you shipped out any of these workers?”
“Not yet. He hasn’t even tried any of his designs on real people yet.”
Maggie raised her brows. “These aren’t real people?”
“Shit no,” he said. “This here is a vegetable garden. Nothing but cripples and retards. That one there was in General Z’s army, but he got lobotomized by a shot in the head, burned a hole straight through. There’s a couple more woundeds over there, the rest were dumped by their families. People around here are crazy superstitious. They think their kids are possessed when they don’t come out right, so they sell their defectives to the doc. He doesn’t buy them all. He’s picky about his specimens.”
Specimens. Cold-ass bastard. Maggie lifted her piece just a smidge, enough to make me call her name as a caution. Nurse Manny wrenched his neck around to see what was going on. Maggie’s piece dropped back to her hip. “Continue.”
“Before he starts doing real people, he wants to test his designs by chartering a shuttle to take the whole bunch out of the atmosphere. He doesn’t quite have the funds yet, though. Soon as he does, he wants to close his plastic surgery biz in Koba. He funds this work here with the money he makes down there.”
“Where does he plan on getting the real people?”
“People will volunteer.”
“You must be joking.”
“Listen, lady, where the fuck do you think you are? This is Yepala. We’ve got an army of kids terrorizing people. Girls around here get gang-raped every day. People will do anything to land an offworld job. And the offworlders will pay for labor. You know how successful the mining operations are. Those people can’t wait to get a bunch of immigrants in to do all the shit work.”
I didn’t know what to say. None of us did. The horror of it all was beyond us.
Silence reigned for the next minute. Until a nervous Nurse Manny asked, “What are you going to do with me?”
The young guard glared at him. Manny said me. Not us.
Nobody responded.
He decided to keep talking, like he figured he was safe as long as he had something to offer. “The one in the tub can breathe underwater. Pivon has a moon that’s all ocean. The waters aren’t as developed as ours when it comes to sea life, but they do have these little shrimplike creatures that are evidently mighty tasty. Doc figures a swimmer would be useful untangling nets and shit.
“And Quentin, the guy fused into the bug shell, is designed for EVA work. You attach a faceplate, and he’s airtight. You know how much time workers waste suiting up to go into vacuum? The doc figures that making people EVA-ready could boost productivity by ten percent. Maybe more. Plus it’ll be safer.”
I stopped listening. I didn’t want to know about the woman with air-tank legs or the young boy with sockets on the end of his wrists, myriads of attachments surely available for the right price. “Does General Z run this place?”
“Not the clinic. But he does run the opium operations. The guards are all his. This one’s job,” he pointed at the young guard, “is protecting the big storeroom downstairs. If the general knows there’s a clinic out here, he’s never shown any interest in it.”
“So you work for the doctor and the doctor alone?”
“Him and the sheriff. This is the sheriff’s land. He bought it real cheap a couple years back and had it cleared of jungle so he could lease it to General Z.”
“Lease it?” asked Deluski. “Can’t the general take whatever land he wants?”
“The money buys more than the land,” I said. “It buys YOP too. Let’s go. We got what we came for.”
Deluski stood. “What do we do with these two? We can’t let them send up the alarm until we’re away.”
Maggie raised her piece, the barrel leveled at Nurse Manny.
“Maggie? What do you think? Should we tie them up?”
Her contorted face was flushed.
“Maggie?”
She lowered the lase-pistol. “Get some rope.”
Deluski rummaged for rubber tubing, made quick work of tying hands and feet and using bandages for gags. I inspected his knots. Looked solid. Didn’t have to last long.
Maggie was already at the door, Deluski on his way. I made like I was following but turned back. I put my lase-blade in the kid guard’s palm. Pressed his fingers around the handle. “If your bosses find out we got past you, you’re as good as dead. Nobody needs to know we were ever here.”
The kid’s eyes scrunched up. He was reasoning it through.
I didn’t want Maggie doing anything stupid. Me, stupid was what I did best. “Best I can tell there’s only one witness in here who can talk.”
I saw understanding in his eyes. I gave Nurse Manny a wink as he struggled against his restraints and screamed into his gag. I turned and hustled to catch up.
Just before I exited the door, the unmistakable sizzle of a waking blade brought a smile to my face.
twenty-three
APRIL 26–27, 2789
WE were outside, jogging past snail pens. Forgot to ask about the snails, dammit. Goddamn information overload in there.
We passed behind the last shed and sprinted into the darkness of the poppy field.
Evie met us and wordlessly led us back into the jungle. Flashlights on, we pushed along the trail, chirps and squawks sounding over the jungle’s drone.
Maggie stopped in front of me, almost bumped into her. “We have to go back.”
I took her wrist, dragged her along. “We can’t do anything for them.”
“We can take them with us.”
“How? We can’t parade them through town.”
“We can’t just leave them.”
“We won’t.” I felt more centered than I had in a long time. Nothing like a dose of true evil to remind me I wasn’t so bad. “We’ll stop them. Just not tonight.”
“But—”
“Not tonight.” I pulled her along until she started walking on her own.
Evie stopped us, told us to turn off our lights. She snuck ahead to check the road, came back a minute later. “There’s a patrol down the way.”
Deluski whispered, “They must be looking for us.”
“Agreed.” By now, the arrival of a one-armed man in Yepala had probably spread to the wrong ears. “How many soldiers, Evie?”
“Plenty,” she said. “I hope you have a lot more money.”
I doubted we had enough. If Panama knew we were in Yepala, he could’ve offered a bounty to the general’s soldiers. “Is there another way back to town?”
“There’s another trail we could take to get around that patrol, but when we get to town, you’ll have to pay one way or another.”
We’d take another. “Can you get home on your own, Evie?”
“What do you think?” Her words came loaded with attitude.
I loved this kid. I pulled a wad from my pocket, pressed it into her palm. “Take us to
the trail, then get home without being seen. If you get stopped, you tell them you took us to the clinic and left us there. You got me?”
“I got you.”
We slunk across the dark road, entered the jungle on the far side, picked our way through some brambles to a well-worn trail.
“That’s it, Evie. On your way.”
Maggie told her to wait. She pulled her earrings out of her lobes. “Take these.”
“I told you somebody will just steal them.”
“Hide them someplace.”
Evie took them and ran.
We followed the trail for a kilometer or two, my heart leaping at every snapped twig. Finally, the jungle opened into a tamed expanse dotted with tin-roofed mud-brick homes. The area was illuminated by gas lamps that emitted piercing white light. “Where do you think the pier is from here?”
Deluski pointed at a church on the far side. “Should be near that church.”
I agreed. “How you want to do this?”
“We walk straight through,” said Maggie. “Act like we know where we’re going. There’s no guarantee that the patrol was looking for us. If we run, we’re asking for trouble.”
“Objections?”
Deluski shook his head no. We tucked our weapons away and walked into the village. As we passed homes, off-duty farmhands stared our way, and the sour smell of shine rode on the breeze. Wood fires pumped smoke through the gaps between walls and rooftops. People ate from bowls with their fingers, geckos dancing in the dirt, scurrying across tables.
We passed an open-faced two-story home on the right, the bottom level reserved for dry wood and a roped cow, the top floor a small deck for sleeping under the overhang. A young girl shoved branches into a clay wood stove. Flames licked at a steaming pot, and her soot-coated face gave us a once-over.
We strode forward, each step taking us closer to the pier and the river. A shirtless old man shooed us along, crazy eyes under wispy hair, ribs standing out like roots from a toppled tree. He hissed and nabbed a machete, brandishing it wildly before a family member scolded him and took the tool out of his hand.
I spotted a woman standing behind a post, a phone to her ear, her eyes tracking us step for step. Her lips moved, speaking unheard words into the receiver. I looked all around, found two others, phones to their ears.
Racing to rat us out to Panama.
I accelerated into a jog, my hand moving to my piece. Maggie and Deluski matched pace, the church still in the distance, its cross fashioned from scrapped street signs. Maggie had her phone out, holding it to her mouth, yelling into the speaker, “Josephs!”
A soldier appeared in front of the church. Then a second. I tried to stop, skidded, and slipped to the ground, my body sliding through the mud. Now there were three, four, a whole squad pouring into the church courtyard.
I scrambled to my feet and ran after Maggie and Deluski, who had already turned for the jungle to our right. I was in full sprint now, darting between houses, hurtling through family dinners, startling children and scattering chickens.
My right shoe slipped out from under me. I went down a second time, an uncontrolled slide taking me into a set of chairs. I was back up, untangling my legs, tossing chairs, as the rumble of clomping feet approached from behind.
I was running again, speeding for the jungle, knowing the river had to lie somewhere behind it. Deluski was the first to disappear into the green, Maggie a couple seconds later. I pushed my lungs to their limit and leapt into the darkness, branches and leaves, vines and brambles. A hand grabbed my shirt, Maggie’s voice, “C’mon.”
I followed as close as I could, my eyes straining to keep up with the jouncing beam of Maggie’s flashlight. She yelled into her phone, “Track my signal! We’re heading for the river!”
The crackle of lase-fire ripped overhead, burned leaves raining from exploding clouds of foliage. The undisciplined shits were taking potshots. If they were going to catch us, they’d have to follow us in. Whether they did would depend on how bad they wanted us.
The shooting stopped. I listened for following voices but heard only our own heavy footfalls and the rustle of leaves as we crashed through. These were the general’s soldiers, not Panama’s cops. I gave myself permission to hope they’d dropped their pursuit. Maybe the bounty Panama offered wasn’t so big.
Another burst of lase-fire quashed that hope. We raced through the snagging, slapping, scraping jungle. Lase-fire tore through the trees to our right. The soldiers were veering off course. Maggie and I responded by angling left, widening the gap. I could hear the sputter of an outboard motor ahead. The river was close. Please be Josephs.
We scrambled up a steep embankment, kicking and clawing through muddy earth and deep piles of damp leaves. The air turned fetid with overturned compost. I coughed and choked on mold spores, my feet churning at the slick slope.
Maggie crested first, me a step behind. We raced down the embankment. Josephs’s voice called to us, the boat a short distance out, floodlight aimed our way. We dove into the water and paddled toward the floodlight. Josephs and the boat captain pulled Deluski on board.
The boat putted up. Maggie grabbed hold of the rail. “Turn off the light and the motor!”
The motor went silent. The light went dark. I held on to the rail and waited for Maggie to get pulled up. “Sssh. Nobody talks.”
I heard voices upriver, the voices of boys. I could see them scanning the water with their flashlights, thirty meters upriver, maybe less. A real army would’ve spread out, cast a wide net as they moved through the jungle instead of going in follow-the-leader formation. Those kids weren’t real soldiers. They had no training. No fucking clue.
I held up my arms, letting hands grab hold. They lifted me slowly, my torso rising out of the river. I winced at the water running off me, knowing every drop could be the one that they heard. Lucky for us, the punks didn’t have the good sense to shut up and listen. Instead they argued and took random shots at the river.
My feet slipped from the water. They set me down on the deck. I didn’t dare move. I just breathed, told my heart to quit pounding. Minutes passed, and the river took us away in its silent flow.
* * *
We putted under one of Koba’s many bridges, city lights all around. The journey was almost over. Maggie and I sat next to each other, scratching at skin savaged by bug bites.
Deluski kept fiddling with the boat captain’s phone, said he was looking up some things. Josephs stared at the stars, his gaze quiet and peaceful, not shellshocked like the rest of ours. He hadn’t seen what we’d seen. A goddamned freak show. The kind of shit nightmares were made of.
The captain turned the boat into a canal. A nightclub floated to the right, the crowd overflowing onto a pontoon dock, suits and dresses, cocktails and party voices.
“He has to be stopped.” She was repeating herself. Saying it over and over and over.
“I know.” The same empty response.
“KOP has no jurisdiction.”
“I know.”
“I can go to the governor. See if I can convince him to send the army in to raid that compound.”
“You can try.” But you know you’ll fail.
“If he refuses, I’ll go to the press and amp up the pressure.”
Which you know will simply spook the doctor into relocating. I waited for her to come to the same conclusion.
She shook her head. “There has to be a way to stop him.” Back to square one.
She knew the riddle had no legal solution. The doctor operated in General Z’s territory, meaning the clinic might as well be a million miles away, for all the authorities could do about it. Shit, the General regularly slaughtered entire villages and took the children as his soldiers. Gang rapes were a way of life up there. If the pols hadn’t found the will to do anything by now, they sure as hell weren’t going to start a full-scale invasion just because of a rogue doctor.
Yet she kept at the riddle, around and around, trying to solve t
he unsolvable. I had to admire her for it.
Deluski jumped up. “I got it!” He held out the phone for me.
“Got what?”
His grin was huge. Didn’t know the guy had that many teeth. “The lizard the killer turned into. I found it.”
I wasn’t in the mood. “Not this again.”
He put the phone in my face. “Fucking look at it already!”
I took the phone, studied the lizard’s pic. Charcoal skin. Red stripes. Wide mouth. “Could be.” I made to hand the phone back.
“Read the description, the part I marked.”
Christ. I held it so Maggie could see and navigated into the text, skipped over the species name—some kind of Latin shit—my eyes pausing on the common name: stripe-faced man-eater. I read the portion he’d highlighted, the text focusing on the lizard’s sexual habits. I took the information in, my smirk fading, my back straightening.
I soaked it up, let it mingle with the case facts, images gaining clarity. I read it a second time, read how the female attracts the male with those red stripes, stripes that get thicker and brighter during mating season. How the male stands on its hind legs, making himself look big, making himself look like good genetic stock. How they mate, the male inserting his genitalia, the female’s vagina closing around it, a vagina made of a bonelike material that pinches down until it severs the male genitalia. Severs it in its entirety. Only then, after the genitals are severed do the muscles relax to release his seed.
Holy shit.
Maggie pulled the phone from my fingers to read it again. “Oh my God.”
Deluski sat back down. “I told you I’d find it.”
Maggie had her face practically pressed into the display. “That steel trap thing he snapped onto your hand. You think the doctor installed another one inside him?”
Josephs perked up. “Inside where? What are you humps talking about?”
Franz Samusaka, Wu, and Froelich all had their dicks chopped.
“Somebody gonna answer me?”
Chopped during mating. Holy fuck.
* * *
I rolled over. Again. I scratched my ankles, my neck, my ears. Damn bugs chewed the hell out of me.
KOP Killer Page 22
