Ragamuffin

by Tobias S. Buckell

  “You have a collar on Jerome, who I promised John nothing would happen to. I’m getting off, and I’m going my own way for a while.”

  “Your promise to assist the gods?”

  “I might yet. But I disdain being told what to do.” Pepper reached over to the nearest warrior and pulled his rifle away in a smooth, relaxed movement. Then kicked the man back into the tightly packed crowd.

  The Teotl behind him leapt. Pepper rolled forward with the impact and threw it into the group. Its head bounced off to the side and clear fluid pooled quickly at the warriors’ feet. Pepper raised the rifle and Xippilli grabbed the barrel.

  “Wait.” He had do something to avoid the bloodshed.

  Pepper hesitated.

  Xippilli pointed the barrel of Pepper’s gun at the side of his own head and said in Nahautl, “You know who this man is and what he is capable of?”

  They nodded.

  “Then he’s taking me prisoner for now,” Xippilli said. “He does not want to currently go with us, and by fighting in here we endanger the god at the front.” By offering himself as a temporary hostage he could calm Pepper and get the man out of the ship without causing more damage. And Pepper would owe him. That would be valuable in the future.

  The warriors nodded in agreement, and Xippilli let out the tight knot of fear in his stomach. He faced forward to the Teotl at the front. “Great sir, please open the hull for us so that no one further is killed.”

  The hull cracked open and light spilled in. Judging by the carefully trimmed shrubs outside, Xippilli guessed they were in the gardens near the very center of Capitol City.

  “I want that man’s clothes.” Pepper pointed at a jaguar-masked warrior with a long cape.

  He handed the gun to Jerome once the items were handed over and changed, adjusting his dreadlocks. It was, Xippilli thought, convincing enough. Pepper as a Jaguar warrior.

  Pepper looked forward at the Teotl in its niche, then walked over to where the hull had puckered, pushing Xippilli and Jerome in front of him. “You all wait for two minutes before following us out, or I’ll kill Xippilli.”

  The hull opened further, more light stabbing into the dim interior. Xippilli walked out, and Pepper kept the rifle pointed at him. Ten Azteca waited outside in the bright sun, arrayed in a half circle.

  Xippilli kept a cool expression as the Azteca stared at him. Pepper continued to push them forward.

  “Where are our headquarters?” Xippilli asked the group, switching to Nahautl to talk to them. He looked around. The carefully kept grounds of the central gardens lay between the Ministerial Mansion and the docks. The mansion was behind them, and the closest Azteca in the welcoming reception pointed back at it.

  Xippilli, Pepper, and Jerome moved toward it, and the Azteca fell in beside them.

  “I am Atlahuah,” the nearest man said. “I command the men for Ahexotl, and for the gods. What is going here?” They were obviously not sure whether they should be trying to shoot Pepper, but Xippilli seemed quite calm and okay.

  “I’m temporarily being used as a hostage to get to that road.” Xippilli handed Atlahuah a piece of parchment with Ahexhotl’s instructions on it. “There is nothing we can do right now, so I’m going to walk with them, and then return. I know the mansion. Come find me in the lobby, but don’t endanger your life by trying to rescue me right now, or shoot these two men. The gods want them for some reason.”

  Atlahuah looked slightly offended, but obeyed and left with his men for the mansion.

  The three of them continued through the high shrubs and walkways until they came to the street, and Xippilli stopped.

  Pepper leaned in. “You jumped quickly to becoming the Azteca ruler of the city.”

  “Better me than some warrior-priest, Pepper. What else can I do? It is either me or a far worse leader who will spill far more blood.”

  “He lying to save he life,” Jerome said. “Kill him and let’s run now.”

  Xippilli turned to face them both. “You move to anger too quickly. Both of you. Why was that necessary, why not talk to the gods?”

  “You shackle his neck and expect calm?” Pepper said.

  “That was Ahexotl’s idea,” Xippilli snapped. “Would you have killed everyone in there over his mistake?”

  Pepper nodded. Xippilli fought frustration.

  Xippilli looked over at Jerome. “Get to safety, or hiding. I’ll find another ancient. And I’ll bear Ahexotl’s wrath. And I’ll try to manage the city in this new time and save as many lives as I can.”

  “Be careful,” Pepper said with a slight smile. “It’s a slippery slope out there to becoming the dictator of the city.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  “Research,” Pepper said.

  “Research?”

  “Yes.” Pepper broke the ring off Jerome’s neck with his bare hands and handed it to Xippilli. “The Teotl want to get through the other wormhole back to the rest of the worlds. But the question is, why?”

  “They told you why.”

  “That may or may not be true,” Pepper said. “And therefore, I’d like to do some research to figure out if they are telling the truth.”

  “How will you do that?” Xippilli asked.

  “I’m sure there are Teotl that will be available to answer my questions, eventually,” Pepper said. “For now, we’re going to disappear.”

  He started to walk away with Jerome.

  “Pepper, what were you going to do if I hadn’t pointed that gun at myself?” Xippilli asked.

  “Kill them all,” Pepper said, and turned the corner.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Jerome hurried to keep up with Pepper. Capitol City was not the bustling world he remembered. The city remained clutched in dark, quiet, under some sort of curfew. Jerome thought he saw faces in windows, which retreated quickly into the shadows. Electric lights flickered as the power randomly failed throughout the once brightly lit inner walls of the city.

  “You would have killed all those Azteca in there?” Jerome asked Pepper.

  “Yes.”

  “And Xippilli too?” Jerome could hardly contain his anger just by mentioning the name.

  “Maybe.”

  “If you didn’t, I would.” Xippilli had just turned him over. All those mongoose-men back in Tenochtitlanome had died because of him. They had died trying to protect Jerome, he wouldn’t forget who had done the right thing anytime soon.

  A few Azteca warriors patrolled the intersections, occasionally eyeing them. They challenged Pepper, who walked past them with a dismissive wave of the Jaguar warrior he was dressed up as and a snapped set of orders in Nahautl.

  They let them walk on.

  Jerome kept quiet until they turned a corner away from the Azteca. “What are we doing?”

  He couldn’t see past the mask Pepper wore, the stylized grinning jaguar face. Pepper paused, and Jerome froze. Something rustled, they were being followed.

  Pepper reached under the cape he wore.

  “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” The command was repeated in Nahautl. Five mongoose-men rounded a corner, rifles aimed at Pepper. “Let the boy go.”

  Jerome raised his hands, moving between them and Pepper. “Wait, don’t shoot him, you don’t understand.”

  “Get my son away from him now!” a familiar voice snapped. Jerome looked around and saw John push through the mongoose-men.

  “Dad!” Relief vibrated through Jerome.

  “Come over here, Jerome.” John kept a rifle aimed at Pepper’s head as he waved Jerome over. Jerome didn’t move.

  Pepper shook his masked head. “John, don’t point that thing at me.”

  Jerome watched his father pause.

  “Pepper?” John frowned.

  “Who the hell else?” Pepper said, voice unhurried.

  Jerome watched his father break into a grin and lower his rifle. John grabbed Pepper’s shoulder. “You’re alive as well!”

  Pepper looked down at the a
rm. John stopped smiling and let go of him.

  “Yes,” Pepper said. He removed the Azteca mask and dropped it to the ground. His dreads fell down around his shoulders. “We made it back. I told you I would keep an eye on Jerome. I, for one, am good at promises.”

  “Let’s get off the street,” John said. “There’ll be a patrol through soon.”

  The mongoose-men lead them down into the sewers. At this level it was stale runoff. Smelly, but nothing too bad. They sludged through the water.

  “They’re hunting for any of us who settled the planet, councilmen, me, maybe you,” John said. “They’re offering big rewards and promising no harm. You have any idea what that’s about?”

  Jerome and the mongoose-men around him struggled to keep up with Pepper and John. But having both men here made Jerome feel that things were happening.

  “They approached me in Tenochtitlanome,” Pepper said. “They seem to think they’re also going to reopen the wormhole back out, and they need human help to deal with humans on the other side.”

  “And you said?”

  Pepper paused at a junction. A pool of wastewater rimmed by railings. “Said I’d think about it. How’s our starship doing, John?”

  “The Ma Wi Jung is not going to fly us out of here.”

  Water trickled out of a storm drain. Jerome listened to his dad and Pepper and felt like half a man. Like all the other little people that gathered around those two and looked up. Here were the heroes of the last war with the Azteca.

  And he’d been saved by Pepper back then as well.

  John hadn’t even looked back at him. Or touched his arm like Pepper’s.

  Pepper sniffed. “Here’s the thing. They’re still using the Azteca as pawns.”

  “They always have.”

  “The Teotl arrive in orbit, with advanced technology and superiority, and they’re using Jaguar warriors with rifles to subdue the city? They’re using a bunch of shuttles to ferry men with rifles around?” Pepper leaned back against the rail.

  “They don’t want to get their hands dirty.”

  “It’s more than that.” Pepper looked at the mongoose-men. “I think there are only a handful of them in orbit. They might actually be somewhat honest in needing our help.”

  “Help?” John looked disgusted.

  “They claim they’re refugees.”

  “But they’re Teotl,” Jerome hissed.

  Pepper shrugged. “They want our help. I see advantages. I see me getting off this damn planet.”

  Damn planet? Jerome looked at Pepper. “So you go get off this ‘damn planet’ by joining them murderers!”

  “They say something worse is coming through the wormhole after them.”

  “And you believe them?” Jerome replied. “You believe them?”

  Pepper removed something from under the feathered cape. “I stole this from the Teotl that jumped me in the shuttle.” Pepper held a fuzzy-looking, green necklace with a solid-silver section in the middle. In his other hand he held an oval. Jerome reached for it, but John grabbed his wrist.

  “Don’t. It’s an aerogel necklace with a nanofilament, it’ll slice your hand off it you tug on it wrong.” John looked at Pepper. “It’s a slave collar. And the oval is to trigger it?”

  “Yes. Deceptions behind deceptions.” Pepper gently tossed the necklace to John, who snagged it out of the air with a grunt. “I think they may need us. But they’re not interested in being partners, ultimately. Things might be a little bit more one-sided once they have us where they need us.”

  “So what next?” John carefully pocketed the necklace.

  “What are these mongoose-men up to?” Pepper asked.

  “Heading on with explosives to cause the Azteca some trouble. They were helping me get near the mansion. They have to move on.”

  “Why?” Pepper frowned.

  “Been watching to see if Jerome or you got captured.” John turned to the mongoose-men. “Thanks.”

  They shook hands, glanced at Pepper one last time, then melted back off into the shadows.

  “Can you remember how to get to the Crosswise bunker?” Pepper asked.

  John nodded. “That memory is back, yes.”

  “Go there. You’ll be safe. So will Jerome.”

  “What you doing?” Jerome asked Pepper.

  “I need to go ask some questions.” Pepper let go of the rail and walked off, brightly colored cape swaying until it was swallowed by the darkness.

  “You been friend for a long, long time, right?” Jerome observed. “Know what he up to?”

  “Whatever it is, someone’s going to be unhappy tonight. I think Pepper’s in a bit of a mood. Come on, we need to get to that sewer, it’s dangerous here.” Then John grabbed Jerome. “I’m glad to see you again, Son.”

  Despite feeling that he’d grown out of it years ago, Jerome hugged him. “It was bad there. It was really bad.”

  “I know.”

  The water continued gurgling, and the moment passed. The city wasn’t theirs anymore, they had a lot more skulking around to do to get to this new bunker.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Xippilli watched the lights of Capitol City flicker from his office’s balcony on the Ministry building. The new, and quite hastily erected, wooden sacrificial pyramid flickered in the light of bonfires on the far edge of the gardens. It sat just past one of the strange flying machines.

  He’d stood here, with dignitaries and leaders, coming to the office to seek their help. He’d done his best to try to get elected to the position, but had failed. Nanagadans weren’t ready to elect someone from over the mountains just yet.

  Now it was his at last. An ashen victory.

  Someone behind cleared his throat. Xippilli turned. A warrior-priest stood by the curtains, and Xippilli’s stomach flipped when the man walked forward. “There are thousands of people in our pens out there. Our gods blessed us. Shouldn’t we return the honor?”

  Xippilli walked past the man, brushing aside the diaphanous curtains. He sat behind his desk and tapped the document Ahexotl had given him. “There could be ancient humans in those pens, the ‘old-fathers’ they call them here. The gods are outspoken about needing these people. Disobeying that is unwise.” He’d already met a Teotl by himself today. A strange-looking thing that was carried around, as it had tentacles.

  It had been very upset.

  It had reiterated how important it was that they capture, alive and well, any human beings who had lived three centuries ago when this planet had been settled. At that moment Xippilli had realized that he wasn’t really in charge of anything in the city.

  The warrior-priest stared at Xippilli. “You are right. But do remember, before long, our men will want blood. Is the holy thing to do. It is the right thing.”

  He left with a rustle, and Xippilli now sat alone in the office. That scared him more than anything else.

  The burden of trying to save lives while maintaining his duties as the Azteca leader weighed heavily enough that he looked over at a heavily decorated pistol in a glass box on his desk.

  But even suicide would be too horrible, as Xippilli knew that the lives of those in the pens would disappear along with his.

  He sank into the chair and curled up in it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The night air stank of fear.

  Pepper sat on the corner of a railing at the top of a four-story apartment complex and watched the city. A massive wooden pyramid now dominated the end of the large gardens at the center of the city. Nanagadans milled around in large pens covered in razor wire.

  But they weren’t being sacrificed.

  He’d found himself a raincoat with big inner pockets to keep his gear in. The Azteca disguise made for better camouflage, but damn, he just wanted to be comfortable.

  He sighed and walked over to a pipe and slid down to street level.

  Two Hawk men standing by the corner of the street turned, slightly confused, and dropped to the cobblestones b
efore even opening their mouths to shout a warning.

  Pepper moved on.

  In orbit the new Teotl were trying to stabilize and force open the wormhole that led back to humanity. He wanted that. Whatever he was going to do would encourage that. Pepper wanted to return home more than anything.

  But after seeing the pens, he also wanted to make sure they paid a price for what they were doing here. If they helped destroy lives as they once had, Pepper would make them pay in kind.

  But he had to wait, and it frustrated him. His plans had to be reset, on the fly, and that always led to mistakes.

  Pepper sighed again, tired, and started zigzagging his way down the street, sniffing for something new, something a little sweeter, decayed, and familiar.

  He found a Teotl half an hour later, ensconced deep in a basement room surrounded by warriors who had to be silently killed, one by one.

  Pepper pulled out a knife in each hand and took several deep breaths, then kicked the solid-oak door in.

  A handful of Azteca bodyguards turned around, grabbing weapons.

  None of the mercifully brief struggles and choked silences drew much attention.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  John turned to the thick stone door as it creaked open. No one but Pepper would know how to get here. Still, he reached into a small canvas bag one of the mongoose-men had given him and pulled a pistol out.

  Jerome had fallen asleep against one of the walls. The few hours they’d had alone waiting for Pepper had been enough to catch him up on what had happened in Tenochtitlanome, as well as to snack on some fruit and dried meat John had found in the bag.

  “Give me a hand.” Pepper dragged a large wicker basket in with him. Three pale tentacles with gold tips dangled out of its side.

  Jerome woke up, blinking, and jumped up to help pull it in. He shut the well-weighted door with a slow thud.

  Pepper sat down, out of breath. “I almost got caught by the tide coming through.” The Crosswise bunker lay deep under the city, hundreds of feet below Crosswise Street. Getting there took one through flooded storm drains and city tide-management sewers. It made it safe to hole up in.