Never trust an elf s-6

by Robert N. Charrette

  "John Parker died." Kham voice was hollow. The dwarf shrugged. "Everybody dies sooner or later."

  "Per a stinking elf rock."

  "Rock's not what was important," Greerson said.

  "Those elves are playing games with themselves. Somebody somewhere is going to be upset that our twosome has got that rock."

  "How do you know that?" asked Neko. The dwarf eyed him, evaluating his curiosity. "You don't know, you don't need to know. Just as well. Sometimes it's better not to know what you get involved in."

  Kham growled deep in his throat. "And what ya die fer?"

  "You're really hung up on that, aren't you, tusker?" "Leave him alone, halfer," Sheila snapped. "You prefer I pick on you?" "Yeah." Her grin exposed her upper tusks as well as the lower.

  Greerson folded his arms and cocked his head back to survey the roof of the Rover. "Well, too bad. I ain't the least bit interested in you, sow." Sheila lunged at him.

  Kham caught her by the arm, holding her back from reaching the dwarf. Neko saw that the dwarf had been expecting her attack-naked steel jutted from his forearms, shining blades that would have gutted Sheila as she closed. In the close quarters of the vehicle, Sheila's size would have been a disadvantage against the compact dwarf. Greerson was also heavily augmented. Though Sheila was an ork, she was virgin of the cybernetics that would have given the dwarf further advantage in a fight.

  Sheila let Kham quiet her down, and the Rover proceeded on its bumpy way. After a while the dwarf started up again. "Maybe the elves was expecting more trouble. Must have been; they hired me, after all. Rest of you are probably just as glad no real opposition showed up. That way you didn't have to face real problems. Especially you orks. You guys were pathetic out there in the woods. Don't you ever see trees in Orktown?"

  Sheila growled and Kham elbowed her.

  "Hey, tusker, let the girl talk. She needs to express herself."

  "Didn't you get enough killing?" The Weeze asked Greerson.

  "The dracoforms? You got to be kidding. They're just animals. Where's the sport in that?"

  "You kill for sport?" Neko asked him.

  "Me? Hell, no. I'm in it for the money. That's why this was a good run. Easy money."

  "Easy money?" Kham said incredulously. "Not fer John Parker. Never again fer John Parker."

  PART 2

  The Weight of Time

  9

  The hall was as riotous as ever and Kham almost felt relaxed. The running and shouting kids made a lot of noise, and the noise filled a void in him. John Parker had been the first of his runners, and somehow his death was different from those that had occurred on other runs. Not that any of the losses were trivial. A ringleader had to take care of his crew, had to, or he wasn't going to hold on to a crew worth anything. The first law of the streets was that you took care of your own. He'd learned that in the gangs.

  Gorb and Juan had died on one of his runs, but he hadn't taken it as hard as this time. He had done his duty by them and taken in their widows and kids. They all lived in the hall now, a part of the tumult that made the place home. Now Kham would also have to look after Guido and the rest of John Parker's brood, at least until they could make their own way on the street.

  Lissa emerged from the kitchen and chased the kids outside, telling them to take advantage of the dry weather. With winter coming, there wouldn't be many more nice days. She smiled at Kham, a sign of her improved attitude since he had turned over the cred-stick from the elves' run. Less to worry about, he supposed.

  They were set for awhile, although he, too, had been worried about getting paid for the run. That worry nagged at him even after Rabo pumped the access codes for the certified cred memos on Johnson's disk.

  Elves were known for paying with fairy gold, phantom credit that wasn't there when you tried to spend it. Not until Kham got word from his fixer that the transfer had gone through was he satisfied that the creds were good. Well, as good as any Matrix money could be- what with all those cowboy deckers playing games out there.

  With the kids out from underfoot, Kham could no longer ignore that he had a visitor. Neko. The Jap kid-the guy was so small that Kham kept thinking of him as a kid, although he had learned that Neko was at least as old as he was-was as curious and self-possessed as his namesake. He prowled the hall, poking his nose into everything, or sprawled in one of the chairs, looking like he lived there. He made himself every bit as at home as one of the gang. Now that the kids were gone and it was quiet, the catboy would be after Kham again, badgering him for an introduction to Sally. Just like he'd been doing for the past two days.

  Neko smiled at him from across the room, but just as the catboy was about to speak there came a hooting from outside, the standard signal that someone was headed for the hall. It wasn't the danger call, though, so Kham assumed that the spotters must have recognized the visitors as friends. More visitors-the last thing Kham wanted. Jord heard the call, too; he came barreling down the stairs and skidded into the main room, nearly crashing as he scampered for the window.

  "Jord, go on back to your ma." "Aw, dad. I just wanna see who it is," Jord complained as he slipped open the spyhole in the board covering the window, and glued his eye to the spot. "Geez, it's elves!"

  Neko sat up sharply and exchanged glances with Kham. The catboy tensed, hand close to his side.

  Reaching for a weapon, Kham thought, considering the same option. But his heavy stuff was upstairs and all he had were a few blades and a popgun. These elves had better be friends. "Jord, go see your ma. Now!"

  The kid jumped at Kham's shout and beat feet. Kham went to the entry. Just as he was reaching for the handle, the door opened and a tall elf in black leathers and chrome studs barged in. The white shag of his hair bobbed as he turned his head in a survey of the room.

  "Greetings, Sir Tusk. You are well, I trust."

  "I don't remember inviting ya in, Dodger."

  " 'Twas surely an oversight for such a well-mannered ork as yourself.''

  "The Dodger?"

  The elf turned to see who spoke his name so tentatively, and his eyes widened briefly in surprise. "You're a long way from home, Sir Cat."

  Kham looked from one to the other. "Ya know each odder?"

  Neko simply said, "Hai," but the elf was more elaborate, as usual. "In truth, we have done some small business in the past, working our way through a tangled web of deceit in order to make the world a safer place. Though we disported in different dance halls, we moved to the same music."

  Also as usual, the elf hid what he meant to say in flowery, oblique phrases, but Kham thought he caught the drift. "Da dogboy's big run?"

  Dodger turned to him, his eyes wide in mock surprise. "I am amazed at the speed with which you leap to the conclusion, Sir Tusk. More amazed, however, that you are correct. Have you used the proceeds of your last run to have a brain implanted? Nay, nay, no need to answer, for I spoke too quickly. Surely, had your brain capacity increased, you would not have taken your recent excursion into the country.''

  "I ain't in no mood for your mouth, elf."

  "Your manner is surly as ever, Sir Tusk, but perhaps you are correct that this is not the time for you and / to talk. This is not a social call. Perhaps some other day when things are not so busy.''

  The elf inclined his head, then swept a bow of greeting in the direction of the kitchen. Kham turned to see a group of juvenile and adolescent orks crowded in the archway. The kids must have come in the back way to gawk at the stranger. Kham shouted at them and they scattered, some back into the kitchen, some forming a ragged pack that tore across the main room past Neko, who wisely remained still as the kids flowed around him, then went screaming upstairs. In response to Dodger's remark, Neko bowed and started to leave.

  Kham held up a hand. "Maybe ya oughta stay, cat-boy. Seeing as how ya know da elf and all." Neko smiled and stopped. As Kham had thought, the cat-boy's curiosity was stronger than his manners. It might be interesting to see the prissy elf squirm, to
make him work at his fancy talk and try to phrase things so Kham would understand and the kid wouldn't. Then again, watching the elf while the kid was around might tell Kham something about their relationship. There had been a lot about the dogboy's run that Kham had not understood. "So, elf, ya wanta talk, talk. Don't let da catboy bother ya. He practically lives here anyway. ''

  Dodger smiled, wide and cheerful, without a hint of discomfort. Kham was annoyed.

  "As you wish, Sir Tusk. Your kindness is overwhelming. I had not thought you to be so considerate of a busy decker's time."

  The elf actually seemed pleased that Neko was going to be present. Kham sneaked a look at Neko and found that the kid had dropped his poker face and actually looked as baffled as Kham felt. Not liking the twist things were taking, Kham growled, "Like I said, talk."

  " 'Tis not I, but another, who wishes to speak to you, Sir Tusk. He awaits your invitation." "And who might dis odder guy be?" "You ask for a name? Alas, I am distressed to see you return to your old ignorant ways. Names? I thought the fair Lady Tsung had taught you better.''

  That was a clue to what was going on. "So Sally ain't involved den?"

  Dodger sighed. "Alas, no. Her beauteous features grace some other venue and enrich some other shadows."

  "So dis is some kinda biz offer." "Biz, as you say, but biz that was, rather than biz that shall be."

  "Drek, elf! Will ya knock it off and talk plain like real people?"

  "As I said, it is not I who wishes to speak to you." To Kham's frown, the elf prompted, "An invitation is awaited, Sir Tusk."

  "So get him in here. He's invited already." "Ah, such grace." Dodger bowed to the open doorway, sweeping a hand wide in invitation.

  The red-haired elf entering Kham's house didn't need a name after all. Kham recognized him from the vid. He was Scan Laverty, a member of the Tir Tairn-gire Council of Princes. Laverty's presence could only mean trouble-nothing else would bring such an important person to the slums of Orktown for a meet with a runner. Even if it was just biz, that biz would be trouble, too.

  Laverty nodded greeting to Kham, then to Neko. "I apologize for my unannounced arrival, Kham. I thought it best."

  Kham groaned inwardly, hoping he wasn't making any noise. It was trouble. "No problem," he said, hoping he'd be right.

  "I wish it were so. I'm afraid that your involvement in a recent bit of shadow business has put you in danger."

  "We didn't go anywhere near da Tir," Kham said defensively.

  "No one is saying you did," Laverty said with a smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Do you know who your principals were?'' "Dey didn't give dere names." Laverty gave him a look that said Kham had not answered the question, then he shruged philosophically, and continued. "One of the principals in the recent operation is a bit draconian in his ideas. Wishing to keep the matter a total secret, he did not use any talent normally associated with him."

  "So dey used us instead, ya mean," Kham interrupted.

  "Indeed. I believe his original concept was that new tools would be unknown tools. No fuss. Loose ends perhaps, but unimportant ones without connections to other, shall we say, powers interested in the doings of this person."

  "Ya come to da wrong ork, elf. I ain't ratting on nobody named Johnson. If dey're unhappy wid me now, dey'11 be really unhappy if I rat on 'em."

  Laverty looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you believe that I stand in opposition to your recent employer? Or that I seek what they sought for my own use?"

  Either or both was possible. Kham shrugged to show his indifference to Laverty's reasons. "Whatever. Dey sure was being secretive. Musta had dere reasons."

  "Good reasons, indeed," Laverty agreed solemnly. "But let me assure you that although they intended me to remain ignorant of their actions, I was not the one whom they feared."

  Kham didn't like the sound of that. "Awright, so ya ain't against dem or looking ta cop dere haul. So what-taya doin' here? I heard yer a philanthropist, but I ain't never heard of ya doing much fer orks."

  "You cannot know all that I do," Laverty said warningly. "For the moment, believe that I am concerned for your best interests. Certain sources have suggested to me that one of your principals has decided that his tools have become a liability."

  "Are you suggesting that he wishes us dead?" Neko asked.

  Kham shook his head. "If he wanted us dead, he wouldn'a boddered paying us. Dey'd have done us all out in da woods."

  " 'Twould not be unlikely that they feared your combined firepower, Sir Tusk. In the woods, you were all alert and looking for trouble. Your group would have been a more formidable threat."

  Neko gave a quick nod of agreement. "Then this disgruntled employer seeks to eliminate us individually in an effort to hide his deed."

  Scratching his head, Kham said, "If yer on da level, why should we worry? Yer being here makes dat pointless. Someone already knows about what we did-you do. If dis elf's worried about us talking, he's gonna be worried about you, too. If we're in danger, so are you."

  "No. He can be sure that I will not inform those he fears. He cannot be sure of you or the others. Though you intend to be honorable, you may inadvertently become an informer. He will not be content to rely on your intent to keep confidentiality."

  "So yer warning us. Why?" Kham asked. "What are ya getting outta dis?''

  "Hai. Your motives bear on your trustworthiness," Neko stated. "Do you seek to set us against our former employer?''

  "No," Laverty answered, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I only seek your lives."

  "A popular commodity today," said a new voice from the door. Forestalling several attempts to reach for weapons, the voice added. "Anybody who moves dies now."

  Under his breath Dodger whispered, "But we all go later."

  Kham, Neko, and the elves remained where they were, but their eyes took in the half-dozen newcomers. The hoods they wore were like the ones of the Hu-manis policlubbers, but these raiders were too well-equipped to be those hatemongers. Not only did they have matched equipment, but they moved with the precision of well-trained mercenaries. Spaced well for overlapping fields of fire, the four spread along the front wall were covering the room and the stairs, while the two by the door had a clear line into the kitchen. Professionals. They must be the repairmen Laverty had come to warn them about. Kham knew the score. The six raiders had guns trained on them, suggesting that they were ready to do just what their leader had threatened. Those guys wouldn't fool around; any cowboy kind of move and their guns would make history of Kham and his guests.

  The speaker rapped out orders to his band and four of his raiders started up the stairs, Kham knew that a bunch of the kids were up there, despite Lissa's attempts to get them outside, but he didn't know who else was up there sleeping in. For a moment he thought that they might take the two left on the ground floor with them, then another four came through the door, closing it behind them. They covered the area of the first four, giving Kham no chance for action. Cautiously the new four.advanced across the main room, leaving the leader and another man near the door.

  A scream from the kitchen caught everyone off-guard. The leader looked disturbed and surprised simultaneously. Kham took his chance and smashed the man across the side of the head. He heard the raider's neck bones snap. Grabbing the body as it fell, he heaved it up, letting it take the slugs from the second man's weapon. Most of them, anyway: fire burned lines across Kham's biceps and rib cage while invisible hands plucked at his fatigues. Howling with the pain, he threw the body into the raiders, knocking them aside like tenpins.

  Heat flared at his back and he risked a glance. Laverty was wreathed in an aura of fire, with strange, dull silver splotches hanging in the air around him. An automatic weapon opened up from the kitchen, where a new-what was he? number eleven?-gunman stood. His ineffectual fire showed Kham that the silver splotches were slugs that had halted and melted in midair.

  The kitchen gunman went down in a burst from someone
in the main room. Kham didn't bother to see who fired; he was obviously a friend. Diving for the weapon of the man he had killed, Kham used his momentum on hitting the floor to roll away fast as he snatched the gun.

  The three raiders still in the room started firing in concert. Fortunately, they seemed to be ignoring Kham, concentrating their fire on Laverty. Taking down the mage first was standard strategy, but the elf wasn't making it easy for them. He stood still within his protective flames, light flickering over his head like a video transmission breaking up. Then the fourth joined in and the elf's magic couldn't handle it. He spun, spraying blood, and crumpled to the floor.

  Kham crawled to the edge of the couch he was using for cover and pumped bullets at the raiders. Two went down, but the other two grabbed cover of their own. Something whirled over his head and as he jerked down, he saw a raider coming back down the stairs behind him. The woman had removed her hood, which let Kham see her look of bewilderment as the shuriken embedded itself in her forehead. She slumped forward, but probably never having seen what killed her.

  Gunfire sounded from upstairs. Too many floors up to be the four-no, three now-Kham had seen go up; they couldn't have climbed that fast. That meant that another squad of raiders had also hit from the roof. He should have expected that; these guys were pros. The gunman he had seen in the kitchen and the sounds of combat from the back of the building said that they had come in the back way, too.

  Sheila appeared at the top of the stairs, wrestling with someone dressed in combat armor and climbing harness-one of the rooftop squad. Grappling, the two of them crashed through the banister and landed in a heap on the floor. Sheila was on top, but she didn't get up. There was no time to see if she was dead or merely stunned.

  A raider staggered through the arch from the kitchen and Kham cut him down. Not smart of him to expose himself like that. Kham's eyes widened as Lissa's favorite carving knife fell from the man's back and clattered to the floor when he hit.