by Jake Elwood
At last he turned. Dead, pitiless eyes scanned her from head to foot. "Who are you?" he said at last.
"John Smith. I'm a bounty hunter."
His face was as blank and expressionless as if he was the robot, not her. "And what do you want, John Smith?"
"I know where Cassandra Marx is. But she's surrounded by bodyguards. I can't take her on my own."
Wo's lip curled ever so slightly. "I'm not in the business of helping amateurs. Maybe I'll just make you tell me everything you know."
She felt the muzzle of the crater gun nudge her in the side. There weren't many nerve endings in the bot's torso. She couldn't tell where the gun was, other than somewhere between her hip and shoulder. Chuckling felt strange through the bot interface, but she managed it. "What are you going to do? Torture the bot?"
Wo's lips tightened. "You can be found," he said. "You would do well not to antagonize me." He folded his arms across his chest, which emphasized his tubbiness, and stared up at her. "Tell me what you know. There's ten thousand creds in it for you if I find your information useful."
Cassie stared down at him, pretending to consider his offer. The truth was, she was fishing, hoping he would say too much. So far it wasn't working. She decided to gamble.
"I don't want your money," she said. "I want to barter information."
His eyes narrowed. "And what information are you looking for, Mr. Smith?"
Here goes nothing. "The Marx woman isn't what's really important. Whoever is after her just wants something she has." She thought of the artifact she'd stolen from Lark's father. That had to be what this was all about. More to the point, it sounded plausible. "I have a lead on the, ah, item in question. Once you turn her over to whoever it is who wants her, I want to approach them and sell them the trinket they're looking for. So I need to know. Who put the bounty on Cassandra Marx?"
The bot didn't breathe, but Cassie found herself wanting to hold her breath. Wo stared at her for a long moment. Then his gaze flicked to the man beside her, and he nodded.
Cassie reacted immediately, stepping back and bringing her elbow up. The crater gun fired into her side, and she felt a jolt of impact, followed an instant later by another jolt as her elbow connected with the side of the gunman's face. She felt clumsy in her rented body, but she was strong, slamming the man back and sending him tumbling to the floor. Wisps of smoke curled around her face, but the bot had no smell receptors. She couldn't smell a thing.
A crimson needle flashed out from Wo's hand, a tiny laser pistol cutting into her chest. She grabbed the gunman behind her and hurled him bodily at the fat gangster, then picked up the crater gun. It was bio-locked, of course, so she hefted it like a club and went after Wo.
He focused the laser on her left leg, and red warning text flashed across her field of vision. Ignoring the text, she tried to dodge the laser, then flung the crater gun at his head and sprang toward him. Her leg gave out and she sprawled across the floor. She put a hand out to push herself up, and the beam of the laser slashed across her fingers, severing them.
A couple of men crowded into the office doorway. She could see their shoes, black and shiny in her peripheral vision. She couldn't feel any pain, couldn't smell anything burning, but all sensation suddenly vanished from her left leg, then her right leg.
Wo squatted in front of her. She could make out his face, an ugly smile tightening his lips. "Grab the scanner kit from upstairs," he said. "Let's see where this bot is from."
One set of shoes vanished from the doorway. Cassie could hear a distant babble of excited voices, and the other set of shoes turned. She heard a gruff voice telling people that everything was fine, they were just using a nosy robot for a bit of target practice.
Cassie put her left hand to her side. The first blast from the crater gun had torn a great hole in her side. The curving steel rings were destroyed, and the jumpsuit was a real mess.
Wo moved to her feet. She couldn't feel a thing, but by the sound of things he was sliding up the cuff on one ankle. "There's a tag," he said. "Jorgensen's." Terror spiked in her. "Send a team." Wo moved back to her head. "I'm looking forward to meeting John Smith in person."
"Go to hell," Cassie told him, and shoved her hand deep into the hole in her side. Wo's eyes widened, and he stood, fumbling for the small laser pistol. Then he abandoned the weapon and started to run.
Cassie's metal fingers closed on the disk bomb. She activated it, shoved the timer over to zero, and the world vanished in flame.
CHAPTER 14
Consciousness returned slowly. There was a process for returning from a bot trip, and she wasn't following it. She floated, disoriented, trying to move limbs that weren't the right shape, and her nose was suddenly filled with the smell of burning flesh. Her eyes snapped open.
She was back on the couch in the bot shop. She was alone, the metal band lying on the floor beside the couch. Rail gun rounds clattered in the corridor, someone screamed, and Cassie sat up, swinging her feet to the floor.
Dizziness swept over her, and she clutched the couch, then took a moment to look at her left hand and rejoice in the fact that her fingers were all there.
Standing made the dizziness worse, but it faded as she staggered over to the doorway and leaned out. Lark was across the hall, using another doorway for cover, holding Cassie's pistol in a two-handed grip. She looked unharmed. As Cassie watched, Lark fired in controlled bursts, sending streaks of crimson laser light through the increasing smoke that filled the corridor.
Cassie touched her ear. "Trouble, Roger. We'll go for the roof."
"Understood." Roger was never one to waste words in a crisis.
Lark turned as Cassie spoke, leaning back to increase her cover, and a look of profound relief crossed her face. She pushed the safety button and tossed Lark the pistol.
Cassie could just make out a man's arm through the smoke at the far end of the corridor. She ignited the laser, made paint peel as she tracked the beam along the wall, and heard the man scream as the laser burned into his elbow.
"Let's go!" Cassie shouted. "Grenades first, and then we'll finish off the survivors. Marco's coming up from street level with the rest of the team." Then, hoping her little ruse worked, she grabbed Lark by the shoulder and yanked her down the hallway in the opposite direction.
There was no back door to the bot shop, but the walls weren't designed to stand up to a determined assault. Three slashes with the laser opened up a triangular cut in the back wall, and the two of them ducked through, feeling fresh, smoke-free air wash across their faces. Cassie led the way down a broad corridor, Lark running beside her, a couple of shoppers flinching back from the gun in Cassie's hand.
The bounce tube was set to "down". Cassie slapped the "up" button and leaped into the tube, Lark right beside her. They fell for half a meter or so, then shot upward as the force field caught them. They emerged one floor up, and the floor slid in place under their feet. They stepped out, Cassie wishing she had another disk bomb. Destroying the bounce tube would slow down pursuit nicely.
Instead, she ran through the shopping center, eyes scanning for roof access. She found a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only" and kicked it open. Lark followed her through a series of janitorial rooms and past racks of service bots.
A ladder in an out-of-the-way corner led to a roof hatch. It took most of a minute to burn through the lock with her laser, and alarms sounded as she cut, but at last the hatch popped open. She scrambled up and onto the roof, scanning the city around her as Lark followed her up.
"You should cut the rungs."
"Huh? What?"
Lark pointed back down the hatch. "On the ladder. So they can't climb up after us."
"Oh." Cassie stared at her, then chuckled. "Hey, that's a good idea." The ladder was made of cheap aluminum, and she cut through all the rungs on one side with a single prolonged burn from the laser. She burned the other side, and rungs clattered and clanged as they fell away and tumbled to the floor below.
> "This way," someone shouted beneath her, and she pulled back, kicking the hatch shut.
"We don't have much time. Where are you, Roger?"
"I'm about thirty seconds out," the AI said calmly in her ear. "Try not to panic."
"I'm not panicking, you witless silicone – hang on. I think I see you." She could make out the shape of a skimmer coming in from the west, banking to fit between a couple of towers.
"I'm not in your line of sight," Roger said.
"Oh, crap." Cassie grabbed Lark's hand. "Come on, kid. We have to run."
They fled. The roof of the building was a garden of sorts, with pathways winding between planters full of lush greenery. Night had fallen while Cassie was in the gambling club, but the rooftop was well-lit by lights on poles and the glow of towers around them. Vivid red signs pointed the way to emergency doors into the shopping center, and Cassie flinched inwardly, realizing that she hadn't had to burn her way onto the roof.
There wasn't much in the way of cover. A concrete fountain loomed ahead of her, a vast metal fish in the center spouting water from its verdigris-stained lips. Cassie hauled Lark into the shade of the fountain as the flitter she'd spotted came sweeping in.
It wasn't Roger. She saw that immediately. He was installed in a blocky rental skimmer with bright yellow paint. This skimmer was small and sleek, painted in gray so dark it was nearly black. The flitter shot past overhead, then slowed and turned, coming back for another pass.
There was no one else on the rooftop. That meant no protective cover, but at least there were no civilians in danger. She could shoot at anything that moved with little need to watch her shots.
"Here they come," said Lark, and Cassie followed her pointing finger. The roof hatch had swung open behind them, and a man was peering cautiously over the coaming. Cassie took careful aim, the pistol's holographic gunsight magnifying the man's head until she could see the whites of his eyes.
Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Two men were coming out of a set of emergency doors, pistols in their hands, heads swiveling as they looked for her. Firing on the man at the hatch might give her position away.
"Hell with it," she said, and squeezed the trigger. The man at the hatch dropped from sight, she swung the gun sideways and tightened her finger again, and the two new gunmen dove for cover. She didn't stop to see if she'd hit anyone, just dropped low and scurried around the base of the fountain. There was no need to tell Lark anything. The girl was scrambling around the fountain on hands and feet before Cassie started to move.
Flitters flashed by overhead, and she looked up, hoping to see Roger. Instead she made out three of the little gray machines, banking and swooping like swallows as they searched for her. One flitter rose high, then dove at the fountain. Water erupted upward and chips flew from the concrete as the flitter opened up with rail guns.
Lark screamed, Cassie ducked, and the flitter swept past, leaving a trail of divots in the concrete floor of the garden. A cracked planter bled dirt near Cassie's boot, and she rose to her feet. "Come on!"
It took three hard tugs of her hand to persuade Lark to uncurl and rise to her feet. They ran, and a green arrow appeared on the contact lens on Cassie's right eye. She obeyed without hesitation, running to the right, pulling Lark behind her.
A man shouted, and Cassie zig-zagged, putting a line of potted trees between her and the direction of the shout. A laser flashed and one tree toppled.
Don't they know they need me alive? She ducked as the tree beside her folded over, cut most of the way through at the height of Cassie's neck. Roger better know what he's doing.
There was no time to ask. The edge of the roof was before them, the green arrow still flashing, pointing straight ahead. Lark screamed, a flitter dove and tore up the rooftop behind them with rail gun rounds, and Cassie tightened her grip on Lark's hand. The girl tried to pull back at the last instant, but Cassie flung herself over the low parapet and into space, dragging Lark behind her.
They almost overshot. The rented flitter was just below the top of the roof, one wingtip almost touching the building. Momentum took Cassie over the wing and the fuselage and onto the opposite wing. Lark sprawled across the top of the fuselage as Cassie scrambled frantically for a grip on the smooth surface of the wing.
The flitter swept forward and down, the acceleration gentle but still strong enough that Cassie slid helplessly toward the back of the wing. One foot slipped off into space, then the other, and she felt her body sliding faster toward the void. At the last possible instant Lark's hand seized hers. A hatch was open on the side of the flitter, and the girl gripped the edge of the hatch with her other hand.
"One moment," said Roger, his voice so calm Cassie wanted to punch him. Then the flitter tilted to one side, making her slide toward Lark and the fuselage. She got both feet onto the wing, then latched onto the edge of the hatch with her free hand. Lark promptly let go and scrambled inside, then reached out to help Cassie through.
The skimmer was a six-seater with plush seats and big windows. Cassie landed sprawling across the rear-most seat. She was scrambling toward the front when the flitter tilted, sending her tumbling across the cabin. The skimmer vibrated, metal clanged against metal, and she felt cool air against the back of her neck. When she looked back, there was a hole as wide as her fist in the seat where she'd been a moment before. A matching hole in the ceiling showed her a circle of cloudy sky.
A quick glance at Lark showed the girl curled in a corner of the back seat, her eyes wide and frightened. She looked unhurt. "Strap in," Cassie told her, and headed for the pilot's seat.
"There are three of them," Roger told her as she slid behind the controls. "At least two are armed."
Cassie nodded, not touching the controls. Roger's reactions were infinitely faster than hers, however much it galled her to admit it, and he knew the city and the other ships better than she did. She pulled the chest straps into place and scanned the dash. "Plenty of fuel," she said, "and no serious damage yet. Let's see what this ship can do."
Roger didn't reply, just took the skimmer up in a steep climb that pressed Cassie hard into her seat. A gray skimmer banked hard to avoid a collision and they shot up between a pair of gleaming towers. A line of fractures appeared on the nearest building as a stream of rail gun rounds missed them and sprayed the side of the tower. Cassie winced, wondering if innocent people were dying, then pushed it out of her mind. She had to concentrate on her own survival, and Lark's.
Still, there was no need to endanger the public more than she could help. "Let's get out of the city center," she said. "The buildings aren't much cover anyway."
"Very well." Roger sent them racing directly at the side of a triangular spire of steel and blue glass, whipping the skimmer sideways at the last possible instant. The tower went past in a blue blur, so close that Cassie thought she could have touched it. They tore past one tower after another, never missing by much.
"Police ships are converging," Roger said. "Would you like to hear their threats?"
"No, thank you." Cassie leaned to one side, peering backward at the pursuing flitters. She saw a pair of police craft, blocky ships painted dark blue, converge on a gray flitter. The flitter lurched as force beams locked onto it. The mass of the police ships wasn't much more than the flitter, and all three craft jerked until the flitter's momentum was gone.
The heart of the city gave way to smaller buildings, and police ships stopped a second flitter. Roger flew them past the last of the towers and the sky turned dark around them. "They've got radar," Roger announced. "We can't hide up here." He took the flitter lower, until they were scant meters above the street with shops and houses flashing by on either side.
"The last enemy craft is closing," Roger reported. "I'm afraid the police have abandoned the pursuit for the moment."
"Well, on the lighter side, we won't be arrested," Cassie said. "Let's try to stay alive long enough to enjoy it." She twisted around in her seat. "How are you
doing back there, kid?"
Lark was staring at the floor between her feet. There were five jagged holes in the fuselage, starting in the middle of the craft and ending almost between her small pink shoes. Matching holes lined the ceiling. The last round must have missed her by a hair's breadth. Cassie felt her throat constrict. When had that happened?
"I'm good," Lark said in a small voice.
Cassie slowly turned until she was facing forward again. "Hurry up," she said softly.
"I haven't been holding anything back," Roger said primly. "We're approaching the edge of the municipality."
There was no farmland on the outskirts of Archambault. That would come later, when the quality of the atmosphere was more stable. A short strip of parkland went past beneath the flitter, and then they reached forest. The trees were nothing but a black mass to the naked eye, but a radar scan showed a canopy of branches with vast, widely-separated trunks beneath.
"Can we fit between the trunks?" Cassie said. "I have an idea."
"The risk is high," Roger said, "but it's feasible. It will require a considerable speed reduction."
"Do it."
There was no way to tell how close the canopy was except by radar. She peered into the darkness, then flinched as branches clattered against the windows. The chest belt pressed into her as Roger reduced speed. A moment later they were down among the trunks, the skimmer swinging left and right as Roger threaded his way along.
"What next?" Roger asked, and Cassie outlined her plan. He tried to talk her out of it, then told her to double-check her belts.
"Are you strapped in?" Cassie called over her shoulder.
"Yes," Lark replied.
"Good. Hang on. If we're alive two minutes from now we should be fine." Cassie looked at the dash, her fingers twitching with the need to grab the controls. The biggest problem was that she was blind. She couldn't do what needed to be done while looking back and forth between the tiny radar screen and the windows. She had no choice but to restrain herself and trust Roger.
