Driftmetal II

by J. C. Staudt

  When the Galeskimmer took off from the dock, I heard the constable squeal through the thick knot of fabric in his mouth. It was a terrified sound, and it gave me a thrill, the way that first bite of food does after you haven’t eaten all day. Rocketing upward through the nighttime sky, I cranked the turbines and set the clinkers. We leveled out and started sliding forward through the low-hanging clouds.

  Almost immediately, the familiar flashing beacons of the Civs’ boats began to awaken below. They rose out of nowhere, drifting up from rooftops and alleyways, homing in on the Galeskimmer as if they’d known it was coming. I kept to my planned route regardless, avoiding all the Civvy hideaways Sal had warned me about.

  Then my bluewave comm rang. I picked up. “You had to wait until now to call? I’m a little busy at the moment.”

  “What’s going on over there?” It was Sable.

  “I’m enjoying a nice sunny day at the carnival. How about you?”

  “They got us, Mull. Yingler and the Civs found us in Rindhi’s hospital room and took us into custody. They asked me to call and talk you out of doing anything stupid.”

  “So far, so good. Are Yingler and the Civs around? Are they listening in?”

  Silence on the line. “Yes.”

  “Tell them something for me, will you?”

  More silence. “Okay…”

  “Tell the Civs I’ve got a gentleman called Sergeant Cole on board. A gentleman whose family and fellow citizens might be awfully sad if something happened to him. Tell them that if they call off their boats and give up the chase, I’ll return him safely to land. If not, I’ll find another way to return him.”

  Sable didn’t respond. After a few seconds, the fleet of boats trailing behind me began to shut off their beacons and disband.

  “That’s better,” I said, the Galeskimmer’s wheel in one hand and my comm in the other. “Following the rules like good little law-lovers. Now, on to Mr. Yingler. Is he there as well?”

  “I’m here, Mr. Jakes.”

  “Ah, Vilaris! It’s so nice to hear your voice again after all this time. Now shut up and listen to me. I assume the Civs already know what an indecent butt-wedge you are. But just in case, they ought to know you’ve been living under a false identity in a grav city called Pyras for the last seven years. A city full of primitives, whom you tricked into letting you handle their gravstone. That includes the gravstone on board this boat, which you’ve already been paid for and were planning to steal back from Alastair Gilfoyle. That is, before we got there and stole it first. You’re a liar and a con-man, Yingler. You’re sending thousands of primitives to their deaths by starving them of the resource they trusted you to handle.”

  “Well… if this isn’t a case of the pot calling the kettle black,” said Yingler. “Hidden identities? Stolen property? Murder? It’s like a day in the life of Muller Jakes. Who are you to pass sentence on me, Mr. Jakes?”

  “I’m not pleading my innocence, Yingler. But I am wondering how the Civs have managed to overlook your crimes while they seem so intent to punish me for mine. That’s all. Personally, I think you’ve used your ill-gotten fortune to bribe the Civs and keep yourself out of jail.”

  “Seriously now, Muller. I’m surprised at you. I thought you were more astute than that. Haven’t you put the pieces together yet? Who do you think sent me to Pyras in the first place? The Regency has no love of primitives, but it’s far from illegal to be one. What is illegal, however, is avoiding Regency regulation. I’m a private consultant, Mr. Jakes. I’ve been working on the Regency’s behalf to bring the city of Pyras to justice. The city has been neglecting to pay its taxes, sheltering its financial activities, and existing outside the law. I’m not the one keeping the Regency under my thumb. They are the ones who hired me.”

  “What? You were going to take the gravstone back from Gilfoyle. Keep it for yourself.”

  “Take it back, yes. Keep it for myself… well, I’m quite sure I never said any such thing. You’re jumping to conclusions, Muller. Gilfoyle is just as culpable as the city of Pyras in all this. He was buying gravstone under the table, without the Regency being made privy to it. My only intention was to confiscate the goods in question in the name of justice.”

  “So you’re a closet law-lover, is what you’re telling me.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Then there’s something I need you to understand, Yingler. I know where you’re from. I know the town you grew up in. It isn’t far from here, actually. I know the Yingler Delicatessen, and I know Cierra Yingler, your little sister. I’ve even met your mom. Since you’re keen on patronizing me for failing to put the pieces together, I have a puzzle of my own for you to figure out. There’s a reason I’m telling you all this, and if you don’t do exactly as I tell you, you’re going to solve that puzzle pretty quick.”

  “Don’t throw your weight around, Muller,” Yingler said. “You’re not in a position to do that.”

  “I promise you, I am. And if you value that little sister of yours at all, you’ll meet my demands.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting that we’ve arrested your accomplices? They can’t help you now. You’re all alone out there. Things will go better for you if you just give up.”

  “You made a mistake by telling me you work for the Civs. Now I know your hands are tied. You’re working within the constraints of the law. You can’t do a thing but lock them up. If you do that, I’ll find them. But you won’t, will you? You’ll do what I tell you. Because you don’t want your sweet innocent sister to get hurt.”

  “You’re trying to pull one over on me, Muller.”

  “Test me, Vilaris,” I told Yingler. “See what happens.”

  There was another long pause, followed by some shuffling.

  “Mr. Jakes?”

  “Yeah, Thomas.”

  “Eh… this is Thomas Smedley.”

  “So I gathered.”

  “Are you really the Mulroney Jakes?”

  “I do bear that most fortunate of distinctions, yes.”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “Yes, I’m the Muller Jakes.”

  “Dear me… and to think, all this time I never had the insight to realize I was in the presence of the very same notorious thief and murderer all the papers have been talking about.”

  “Lucky you,” I said.

  “In any event, I thought I might try my hand at speaking some sense into you. The constables here refuse to negotiate with an enemy to the Regency. However, I’ve told them of your bravery and selflessness in rescuing Rindhi and I from the hands of the ridgebacks, and of your key role in rescuing the refugees from Clokesby. As it pertains to my position in the household of the Archduke, the officers here have agreed that if Lord Wilshire can be convinced to offer you a royal pardon, they will turn you over to his jurisdiction and allow you and your crew a small reprieve from the consequences, so long as you return what you’ve stolen in full to Mr. Gilfoyle.”

  “Screw that,” I said. “A reprieve means a temporary delay in sentencing. That’s pretty much the same thing as agreeing to go to prison later.”

  “A comfy prison on Finustria, rather than a cold, hard Regency prison on Roathea. And with your complete cooperation, it would mean a vastly-reduced sentence.”

  “Cooperation… that’s another word that sounds pretty on the outside, but means something despicable. ‘Complete cooperation’ would mean snitching on everyone I’ve ever smelled committing a crime.”

  “And yet, if it lessens your punishment…”

  “It still isn’t worth it. You see, I know all about these little nuances the Civs use to make things seem better than they are. The only thing that could make me give up a fortune would be a full and unconditional pardon.”

  “What about the fate of your friends? Isn’t that enough?”

  I pictured them all huddled around the comm, waiting on my answer—Dennel and Thorley and Eliza, Rindhi in his hospital bed, and Sable. Dear Sable, who had put up with more of my mis
chief and mayhem than any of them. Their futures were all in my hands now. For the first time, it mattered whether I decided to keep being careless or stand up and do the responsible thing. To my chagrin, it seemed that Sable and the Galeskimmer’s crew meant more to me than Yingler’s own family did to him. And when it came down to it, I wasn’t going to kill a couple of innocent women in a deli somewhere just to prove a point. “Thank you, Thomas. You’ve made me see the light. Put Yingler on.”

  More shuffling. “Come to your senses, have you?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “This whole thing is my fault. I’ll take all the blame for it. But if I turn myself in, you have to let them go.”

  “I trust this isn’t another one of your tricks,” said Yingler.

  “First promise me you’ll let them go and put all their charges on me. The robbery wasn’t their idea anyway. I forced them to help me. They’re innocents in all this. Promise me, Yingler.”

  “Agreed. You have my word.”

  “As little as that means to me, I’m going to choose to believe you. I’m bringing the Galeskimmer to the hospital. Tell your law-loving buddies to be ready for me.”

  I hung up.

  I found Trudy’s warehouse, a long, low cinderblock structure near the edge of town. I landed the Galeskimmer on its flat roof and shut her down, then cut the ropes on my hostages’ feet and prodded them down the stairs to the crew cabin. There I grabbed a spare blanket and spread it out over the floor. “Start loading up,” I said, pointing from the pile of gravstone to the blanket.

  My prisoners obeyed, moving the stones one or two at a time from floor to blanket.

  “Careful with those,” I said, wincing as Barnaby tossed one stone carelessly onto another. “For every rock you break, I break one of your fingers.”

  Their job done, I encouraged the two men to their feet and instructed them to take one end of the blanket each. They hauled the whole mess up the stairs, struggling with every step, both acutely aware of the hand pulser I was pointing at them. Being the villain one last time before I went to prison for the rest of my life felt so good I almost shed a tear. Then I told my tears to shut up and get back inside, and they listened, because I was the one with the gun.

  I tied my hostages to the mast and climbed down an access ladder to the ground. As I strolled through the broad loading doorway and into the warehouse, I found no fewer than five men waiting for me. There were more than five, of course; the others just didn’t want to be seen. The medallion twisted my insides into beautiful knots of anticipation and tension and despair. This deal would be my swan song—my last great caper before I gave up.

  “Hey guys,” I said. “I’m Hal Nordstrom. I’m here to drop off a few things for Trudy.”

  Henderson, Trudy’s most gravitationally-accomplished bodyguard, stepped into the light and asked, “Where’s Sal?”

  “He hasn’t shown up?” I tried not to gulp, but the lump in my throat made that difficult.

  “The guys have been here all night. Haven’t seen him. What’s going on? Weren’t you two supposed to show up together?”

  “Something came up,” I said.

  “Like what? You expecting us to wait around all night?”

  I don’t have all night. “Sal will be here,” I said. I didn’t know if that was true, and now that I knew he’d been trying to go straight, I didn’t exactly have a lot of faith in the guy.

  “He has twenty minutes,” said Henderson. “Then we gotta close up shop, and you can go beg Trudy for forgiveness. She ain’t the most forgiving person, you know.”

  “Let me bluewave him. Just a second.”

  I paced across the asphalt lot outside the warehouse as I waited for him to pick up, watching Trudy’s associates with one eye and the Galeskimmer on the roof above them with the other. Sal, don’t you pull this on me right now. In the darkest recesses of my mind, Sal was at home packing up his family, getting ready to leave town. I knew he had better sense than to do that, but when you don’t hear from someone, your imagination can bring out the worst in you.

  “Hello?”

  “Sal. It’s me. Where the hell are you?”

  “I got tied up. I’m sorry, I just can’t make it there right now. They called me in to the hospital.”

  “To do what, investigate a bedpan?” I understood that he didn’t want to skip out on work to make time for his illicit activities, but if he was going to clean up his act after this one, why couldn’t he make one last exception? I would’ve said as much, but I refrained in case the Civs were listening.

  “They’ve picked up a group of suspected larcenists.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just heard.”

  “Oh… those are—”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “I’m sorry about all this. There’s a lot going on down here, what with the collision and all. I’ve done all I can do.”

  “No, you haven’t. You’re just too much of a law-lovin’ wimp to stick out your neck for a friend.”

  Sal’s voice broke. “Muller, come on…”

  “What happened to ‘my family’s gonna die,’ and all that?”

  “I’m coming clean, Mull. I’m sending my family into protective custody first thing in the morning, and then I’m taking down Trudy and her whole ring.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You backstabbing prick. You could’ve done this whenever you wanted, but you decide to wait ‘til the moment I come back into town and ask you for help? I never would’ve called you earlier today if I’d known what a no-good weasel you’ve turned into.”

  “Mull—”

  I hung up. I spun to face the warehouse and marched inside with a smile on my face. “Sal had to work. They called him in because of the disaster over in Clokesby and there was nothing he could do to get out of it. He’s going to take his cut later. The deal’s still on, and I’m making full delivery tonight.”

  Henderson spread his hands, his eyes darting across the ground. “I don’t see anything.”

  “I don’t see any chips, either. Show me you’ve got ‘em and I’ll bring the stone.”

  Henderson gestured. One of the other men brought forth a wooden chest and opened it.

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s fancy. I feel like a real pirate now.”

  “Two million chips don’t exactly fit in a pocketbook,” Henderson said.

  “Right. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I stowed Barnaby and Sergeant Cole belowdecks so as not to raise any suspicion—Trudy’s henchmen had me pegged for a shady fellow already—and managed to guide the Galeskimmer down onto the asphalt lot. The space between the warehouse and the fence was barely large enough to fit her sideways, but I was getting used to the way she handled, so I put her down without a scratch.

  “It’s wrapped in a blanket on the deck,” I told Henderson when I’d returned to the warehouse. “Too heavy for me to move alone. You probably want to send a couple of your strongest guys to grab it.”

  Apparently, Henderson’s two strongest guys knew who they were. They followed me up onto the deck, wary of me, though I couldn’t imagine why. That was when I became aware of the others hiding in the shadows. Not because my eyes saw them, so much as because I got a deep sense of where they were positioned around the complex. Again, I questioned the line between my own mind and the medallion’s influence. I felt it growing on me like a vine creeping up a tree trunk, too slow and subtle and pervasive for me to fully realize it was happening.

  The men took the gravstone, and I followed them back, subtly aware that I might soon find a bullet or a pulser round with my name on it. But there was no shot. Not in that first long walk from the ship back to the hangar.

  Henderson nudged the wooden chest toward me with his foot. “Count it, if you like. It’s all there. Two million even. You might as well; you’ll have to wait here while we weigh this, anyway.”

  I almost told him I didn’t mind; that I’d know where to find Trudy if it wasn’t the right amount. But if Sal tu
rned on her like he’d said he was going to, I figured I might have better luck finding her after she and I were both in prison. So instead, I knelt beside the chest and began to count.

  It was a treasure, alright, glittering heavy and real in my hands. I’d been dreaming of this moment ever since I first heard about Gilfoyle’s mining operation, and the uncanny amounts of gravstone they said he’d been pulling out of the Churn. I had known the caper would make me rich if I could pull it off, but now that it was right in front of me I almost didn’t believe it. Stacks of one-hundred-piece chips, fifty coins to a stack, laid out in a sixteen-by-twenty-five grid. I only had to count one of the stacks and do the math to know it was all there.

  I closed the chest and heaved it up onto my shoulder when I saw Henderson and his thugs coming back from the scale. He had a funny look on his face, as if he’d just been laughing at a joke I wasn’t in on.

  “It weighs out fine,” he said, “but I don’t know why you think you’re leaving.”

  “I’m leaving because we’re all done here,” I said. “You’ve got yours and I’ve got mine. Everyone’s happy.”

  “There’s just one problem,” said Henderson. “You didn’t tell us you were a Civvy.”

  8

  Henderson pointed at the Galeskimmer, and I turned to look. Barnaby and Sergeant Cole were racing toward the fences. They’d cut their bonds and gotten free, no doubt with the aid of some augment or another. My fault for not having the presence of mind to check them more thoroughly—though I hadn’t exactly had much time.

  “No, I’m not—” I began. Then the night began to fill up with the sounds of gunfire. “I have to go.”

  I spun and dashed for the boat as Henderson pulled a pistol and shot after me. Trudy’s hidden henchmen were raining fire down on the escapees. I saw Sergeant Cole’s back go metallic as a pair of flecker rounds sank into him, but he kept moving. Their escape wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened in that moment. After all, they were drawing fire away from me.