“What office?”
“Your…if one of them asked you,” he said.
“Asked me what?”
He twiddled his fingers together.
“Alright, if a City Councilman broke the law, what would you do?”
“What law?”
“I mean…it’s just…what about if the Governor asked you not to arrest someone, would you not arrest them?”
“I’m really confused. Asked me not to arrest someone? What reason?”
“Whatever reason,” he said.
“That’s not a reason.”
Fat Neep rubbed his forehead now.
“Would you take orders from the City Council and Governor?”
“Orders? Why would I do that?”
“Because they are the City Council and Governor.”
“And I’m the Supreme Kommilaire. What, are they going to go out patrolling? Is that what their responsibilities are?”
“No, they tell you what to do.”
“I already know. What do I need them to tell me for? Why don’t you ask me what you want?”
“I’m trying!” He said, exasperated. “Would you ever kill a City Councilman?”
“Kill? Like, for the hell of it?”
“No! If they did something wrong.”
“Something like what? I don’t kill people randomly. If he shot me in the face, sure.”
“What about selling drugs?”
“Are you running for City Council?”
“Not if you’re going to kill me!”
I thought about it for a bit.
“I’m not sure what the City Council and Governor do. But this is Belvaille. If we could only elect people who were squeaky clean, not only could we not elect anyone on the city, but they wouldn’t know anything about us.”
“So my business here is fine?” he asked, trying to clarify.
“Unless you’re chopping up people out back, sure. I mean, you know what all is illegal and what isn’t.”
“That’s the problem. You all seem to make it up as you go along.”
“Well, don’t chop up people. I mean, I guess it wouldn’t be bad to hold our politicians to a higher standard,” I pondered dreamily.
“See? Now you’re changing your mind.”
“People don’t die here, right?”
“Some have,” he said weakly.
“But not a lot. And you didn’t kill them on purpose or anything, right? Probably just overdoses.”
“That’s right.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay, what?”
“I mean, it sounds fine.”
“You’re terrible. Is this how it is for everyone?” his voice was hoarse.
“You asked me a lot of weird questions and I wasn’t sure where you were going. Give me a break, this is my first election.”
“Eat some sandwiches.”
I stuffed a few in my mouth.
“So, do you want to run for City Council?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
The lighting increased in the dark room and I was thankful, because I was trying to find the last of the food.
But it wasn’t the overhead lights.
“Huh?” Fat Neep said, as 19-10 fully materialized in front of him.
Bshzow!
Fat Neep’s head slumped forward and hit his desk.
19-10’s ambidextrous, multi-jointed arms swiveled to me. I was armed with just a sandwich.
“You know—” I started, and 19-10 was gone.
I stood there stupidly. I was literally thinking ten seconds slower than that assassin could act.
I put the sandwich down, wiped my hands, and took a gun from my vest.
Fat Neep was dead, unsurprisingly. Four shots straight into the neck at perfectly aligned and spaced coordinates. It was insane accuracy.
19-10 had “seen” Fat Neep’s metal clothes and opted for the exposed neck.
What was scarier was that he must have somehow been hanging out here. Listening to us. Was that possible? He appeared and fired right when Fat Neep said he was going to run for office. It was too much of a coincidence.
Here I was worried about trying to track an untrackable, dimension-hopping assassin and he was following me, eavesdropping. Were all my conversations unsafe now?
I had said I was going to tell the candidates about 19-10, but in retrospect I didn’t really care if any of them died. I mean, Garm’s ticket was already dead. It would just even the field.
The only people I was concerned about were the Ank, who he had already chosen to wound instead of kill, and Delovoa, who no one with even half a brain would dare attack.
So besides the Ank, besides Su Dival, besides hiring the feral kids, 19-10 had now killed a gang boss who was going to run for office. But we had a lot of people running for office. 19-10 still hadn’t shot me, however. He hadn’t even hinted he didn’t like me.
I shot Fat Neep in the neck with my own gun to cover up 19-10’s wounds.
I waited for his thugs to come running in at the noise, but I realized I was in a club and they couldn’t hear us so I walked over to the door and opened it.
A few stoic toughs came in and quickly got emotional when they saw their boss.
“Hey, bring all the other employees in here. I’m not going to shoot anyone.”
After much hesitation, I got everyone inside.
“Yeah, so, I had to kill Fat Neep,” I said weakly.
“Why?”
“I just did. Sorry. If any of you know Zadeck, I’ll try and get him to take over this organization with as little disruption as possible. By the way, have any of you seen someone around with four arms?”
No one answered.
“Seriously. Hey. Have you seen anyone with four arms?” I repeated.
“Four arms? I don’t think so. Saw two heads once.”
“I saw a guy with four legs.”
“It’s not a competition. Never mind.”
“Should we close up the club or what?”
I thought about this. If I let them keep it open without another boss supervising, they’d just rob it blind, and then spread to the wind, and then become unemployed and troublesome a week from now.
“Yeah, close it,” I said.
“Still a bunch of people flying. They won’t be coming down for hours.”
“Deadsouth is just over there. They want a taste of the real life, let them taste it.”
CHAPTER 27
“I need you to make some way to track 19-10,” I told Delovoa.
He was in one of his lab buildings working on something large and mechanical. He had on protective rubber gear and a face shield and sparks were flying.
“Lift the back of that,” he said.
I walked over and lifted. It was about the size of a car but I managed easily.
More sparks gushed out and he backed away, taking off his mask.
“Okay.”
I put it down.
“Why did you drop it?” he yelled.
“I didn’t drop it. I put it down.”
“You bent it, look.”
“I don’t even know what it is,” I said.
“You don’t have to know what it is to bend it, stupid. What do you think I was working on it for? It was bent. Now you just bent the other side.”
“I’m not a heavy lifter.”
“Clearly. Come over here and pick up this end. And don’t drop it.”
“No. Help me find 19-10 first.”
Delovoa pointed, his face angry.
“He’s over there.”
I looked at the wall where he was pointing.
“What? Where?”
“How should I know? You think I can see through dimensions?”
“Can’t you build some scanner? You said it was using unstable elements or whatever.”
“It will be contained by the armor. If it wasn’t, it would kill him. Besides, the station has radiation leaks all over.”
“From what?” I a
sked, alarmed.
“From you dropping big pieces of it. Belvaille is falling apart. You know that. Why do you need to track him anyway? You said his guns can’t hurt you. He didn’t even kill the Ank.”
“But he’s following me!”
“Then turn around and shoot him next time.”
“No, he’s following me in those other dimensions,” I said.
“That’s not possible. He’s slower than you when he does that. And you take the train.”
“I’m telling you, he knew where I was, twice, and listened to what we were saying. He may be listening to us now,” I said, looking around.
“He can’t. It would take too much energy.”
“But do you know if the armor can hear us? In this dimension?”
“How should I know?”
“Then how do you know it takes energy?” I challenged.
“Because it doesn’t run on fairy dust. This is just how machines work. If it’s moving, if it’s listening, if it’s interacting with anything, no matter what dimension, it needs power. He can’t possibly be following you all the time. You’d outpace his Messahn armor and he would waste his chrodite-399.”
“Then how do you explain him following me? I went alone.”
“Did anyone know where you were going?”
“Well…Fat Neep. His gang. My people. Anyone that saw me. Anyone they told.”
“Not exactly secret.”
“So there’s no way to track him or predict where he’s going?”
“I don’t know what the armor is or its signature. You can scan for anything, but you have to have some pretty specific criteria. Shiny armor with four arms isn’t good enough.”
“Is it possible to make me some armor like him? Where I could also go into his dimension?”
“Are you kidding? I had a tough enough time making the trains able to haul your jelly gut down the street. Besides, it’s not like he steps over and it’s this wide open field with just him. It would take me years to try and figure out the theories of all those interlaced manifolds, let alone make a practical device.”
I grumbled, but he had eased my panic a bit. I was thinking I had a permanent 19-10 hovering a few feet behind me.
“This is a long shot, but do you know Two Clem?” I asked.
“The actor?”
“Yeah. He’s missing.”
“Since when?”
“Months.”
“No, he’s not. I saw him a few weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
“Here, here? Your place?”
“Yeah.”
“No one is supposed to come over.”
“I’m not going to be a prisoner! I have guests when I want.”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“It wasn’t really a talking session,” Delovoa answered delicately.
I rolled my eyes.
“So how can I find him?”
“Have you checked his apartments?”
“No, but I’m sure the Order has, and they say he’s missing.”
“I don’t know if he’s still in the Order,” Delovoa said casually.
“Really? Does Hobardi know?”
“Or he’s trying to take control from Hobardi. One of those.”
“Those are hugely different things! Can’t you remember which?”
“No. A fake religion isn’t very high in my priorities.”
“Can you tell me if he comes back?” I asked.
“I will if you help me fix this. And don’t drop it this time.”
CHAPTER 28
Judge Naeb declared his candidacy for Governor.
That put us at 1,843 people running for the five City Council seats and 206 running for Governor. And there still hadn’t been any declarations from the Olmarr Republic, the Sublime Order of Transcendence, or the Totki.
I should just let them all fight it out.
Actually, that might happen whether I let it or not.
We had finally moved all the women prisoners from the Royal Wing to Hank Block. We converted the roof of one of the apartment buildings. That was about the best we could do without requiring a lot of manpower to watch them.
It was theoretically possible to escape but it would be a ten story descent through electrified wire. If they escaped, they probably deserved to.
I stood outside the building looking at the rooftop prison as MTB walked up to me.
“How are the recruits coming?” I asked him.
“We lost five more people.”
“What? More?”
“Yeah. I think you were right. A lot of groups had us infiltrated. Now that the election is coming, they don’t need anyone in the Kommilaire and they are pulling them back to their regular armies. What happened to Fat Neep?”
“19-10 killed him.”
“Oh, I heard you did.”
“Yeah, I told them that. Until I can figure out some way to deal with 19-10 I’m not going to tell anyone he exists.”
“The Ank and the Reserve guards know,” MTB said.
“But they won’t tell anyone.”
“Isn’t that dishonest?” Valia asked, approaching.
“I’m not lying,” I said defensively. “Well, I guess I am. But it’s not like I’m benefiting from the lie. If I tell everyone about him, they’ll just say, ‘hey, stop him,’ which is what I’m trying to do anyway. And the city is on edge as it is.”
“The election has everyone anxious,” MTB agreed.
“It’s not just that. The city, the galaxy, is kind of like…balancing. It’s going to fall one way or the other. Three months ago the Ank Reserve Boards lost 50% of their value in one day because they ran out of white chalk to write the tickers and instead used red chalk. People went nuts and thought it was some Sign.”
“The Totki have been going around interrogating people. That’s going to get out of hand,” MTB said. “We don’t have enough people to stop them anymore. At least if you’re not there.”
“And they’ll just run away from you,” Valia chimed.
“I think I got a fix for the Totki nuisance. But check this out, Delovoa saw Two Clem a few weeks ago.”
“Where?” Valia asked.
“His place.”
“Did he break past Delovoa’s security?” MTB asked, amazed.
“No, no. Nothing like that. But the point is he’s alive. And Delovoa hinted Two Clem might have had some falling out with the Order.”
The pair was silent, so I continued.
“I’m wondering if Hobardi wants us to find Two Clem so he can kill him.”
“So should we stop looking?” MTB asked.
“Yeah. In any scenario at the very least it didn’t happen like Hobardi said. The Olmarr Republic didn’t take him. And he’s not captive. If they have organizational issues, that’s their own damn problem.”
“What’s your solution for the Totki, Boss?” Valia asked.
I smiled.
“Go get Rendrae and meet back at my place. I’m going to get something to eat first.”
CHAPTER 29
This was a gamble.
I had known Rendrae for a long time and I knew he loved news. Ate news. Dreamed news. Probably had little baby news somewhere he had birthed after being impregnated by other news.
But he was also pretty honest. Honesty was a good trait if you had the ability to turn it off when you needed to.
The city listened to Rendrae. He was their gossip god and “Force for Facts.”
I now had to do one thing I had never attempted or even heard of him doing in the century and a half I’d known him:
I had to get him to fake a story.
“Have a seat, friend,” I said.
Rendrae did so. He was guarded. He did not smile. He stared straight at me. I never went out of my way to speak to Rendrae, he went out of his way to speak to me. He knew something was wrong. It didn’t take the galaxy’s foremost journalist to figure that out.
It was j
ust the two of us here as I didn’t think having witnesses would help.
“Would you care for something to eat or drink?” I asked.
Rendrae merely shook his head. I think he was honestly frightened.
“I found out who killed Su Dival,” I said.
Rendrae scooted forward in his chair, almost bursting out of his jacket.
“Who?” he asked.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Rendrae, never at a loss for words, just sat there.
“But I know who ordered the assassination of Su Dival,” I said.
Rendrae squeaked.
“Who?”
“Judge Naeb.”
Rendrae’s brow furrowed.
“Or that’s who I’m going to say did it, anyway. He didn’t, obviously. The problem is, I know who killed Su Dival for real. But it doesn’t matter that I know. It won’t help anything. I have to stop the Totki from shaking-down the citizens. That won’t lead anywhere except to factional conflict. So I’m going to say Judge Naeb, who is now officially running for Governor, had Su Dival assassinated to take him out of the way. And then we can kill Judge Naeb, who is a terrible judge, as you know. And maybe kill a few more guys that I finger as the assassins.”
Rendrae’s mouth was open. He was sweating. He had slumped back on the chair.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.
“Because you can either report what I just told you, that Hank is framing a judge and doesn’t care about Su Dival—and I don’t, he was a lunatic—or you can report the fake story. And have…I don’t know, daily updates on the labyrinth of back-dealings and scheming that brought it all about.”
“You want me to make up the stories?” Rendrae asked weakly. “Like the-the bad fiction writers who tell pirate tales on the loudspeakers before bedtime?”
“I’m sure they’ll be much better than that, but yes. Rendrae, if you tell the truth, there won’t be anyone left to hear the tall tales.”
“I promised I wouldn’t falsify a story. That is the difference between me and everyone else. No matter what.”
“I remember you standing up for Belvaille. When the Navy came here to take us over. You were ready to give your life to spare the station. You won’t tell a lie to save it now?”
“Who really killed Su Dival?”
“An assassin named 19-10. He can portal short distances. He’s basically impossible for me to find. So telling people about him doesn’t help and it sounds like I’m making excuses.”
Hard Luck Hank: Prince of Suck Page 13
