by Rob Guy
“Afraid so. But I will have a drink.”
“Hey, that’s my Harry.” Manny beckoned over the barman. “What’ll it be?”
“Club soda, thanks.”
“Yes, sir,” said the barman.
“Hang on,” said Manny, leaning in and cupping an ear. “Did I just hear that right? Club soda?”
“You did.” To the barman, “Club soda, no ice.”
“Yes, sir.”
Manny stepped back and frowned, and placed a hand to his forehead, feigning shock. “Well, now I’ve heard everything. What’s happened between here and Venus?”
“A lot of things, Manny. Can we talk somewhere?”
“Sure. Jem, excuse us. We can talk over there.” Manny indicated an adjacent booth. As he turned, Harry caught sight of a shoulder holster with no gun, under Manny’s jacket.
“Take your time,” Jemima said, running a finger around her lips. She returned to her seat, and whispered something to Jade. Both women giggled.
The two men slipped into the booth, and the barman brought over Harry’s drink.
“Boy, you don’t waste any time,” Harry said, doing his best to point an eyebrow in the direction of the bar. “If this is some sort of, ‘welcome to Mars, great to see you after so long,’ present, then I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you.”
For a moment, Manny just stared, then understood. “Oh that? Don’t be an idiot. Though I’d like to see you try, even if Jade does fancy the pants off you. That would be very interesting. We go way back. Best protection you can have.”
“Meaning what?” Harry kept throwing the girls a cursory look. Each time, he was met with a pair of green eyes.
“Meaning I don’t have to pay them. Jemima and I met about ten years ago, when I was head of security at Bleeker’s Bluff.”
“Eh?”
“Long story. Actually, now I think on, I’m pretty sure you two may have met briefly.”
“I think I would have remembered,” Harry said, casting a pleasing eye over four legs.
“Triton, three years ago, give or take a month. She would have been part of the arrest detail for that guy you brought back. Granted she would have been dressed differently.”
“I was getting divorced. I wasn’t showing much interest in anything back then, except bourbon.”
“How is Sybil?”
“No idea.”
“Grace?”
“No idea.”
“Your dog?”
“I don’t have a dog.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “Are you drunk?”
Manny leaned back and frowned. “Now what kind of a question is that to ask an Irishman?”
“I’m serious. I need you sober, Manny.”
“Yes, I can see you are.”
“I’m serious, because this is serious.”
“What is?”
“This business with Headlock, of course. Why do you think you’re here?”
“Covering for you because you couldn’t be in two places at once.”
“Well, yes. But apart from that?”
“You have something on Headlock, I presume. And after what I’ve seen here I’m surmising this is no longer a simple search and pick up. What happened at Venus Station?”
“Rogers copped out.”
“I figured. You do it?”
“Don’t be an ass. Of course not. It was Hackman, aka Hammerstein.”
“Hackman? That sonofabitch! Where is he now?”
“Dead, and I happily claim that one.”
Manny smiled. “Congratulations.” He crossed himself, and seeing Harry frown, said, “It’s for Larry. Hope he’s at peace now. And I should add welcome to the club, mate.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re walking differently. Did he cut you?”
“Very observant, my friend. Apparently I’m alive by virtue of a millimetre. Look, we have a lot to do. Tell me what you’ve seen. I’m glad to know you haven’t been idle these past two weeks.”
“Petersen is holed up in some shit hole on the edge of town. I’ve kept my eye on the port. A supply shuttle arrived three days ago.”
“I gather you’re telling me this because it was carrying more than just machine parts.”
“Oh yes. I counted seven. Don’t know whether they were just plain stupid or confident, but they made no effort to disguise themselves.”
Harry sighed and shook his head. “This tells me Headlock knew all along I wouldn’t be a good boy and do as I was told. He’s known for weeks Petersen might try something like this. How else could they have got here before now? Where are they staying?”
“Three separate locations in Central.”
“Well that tells me they have some smarts. And I have to assume they know I’m here.”
“And it also tells me they are waiting for you to make a move on Petersen. That way they get two for one.”
“Guess I should be flattered,” said Harry, dryly.
“Anyway. That takes care of now. You wanna fill me in up to this point?”
Harry spent the next five minutes bringing Manny up to date, including his last request chat with Hackman. When he’d finished, the Irishman opened his mouth and rubbed at his chin. “It all makes sense. And I have to say, billiard ball. Bloody genius, my friend. But this Heidi woman. Can you trust her? Why did she leave Venus? Delilah’s is a very lucrative establishment.”
“Damn, Manny. Does anything get past you?”
“I can put two and two together. Well?”
“I trust her. That should be good enough for you.”
“Well I would like to meet her. Quite a remarkable woman. Never thought you’d get hooked again, Harry.”
He looked again at Jade. She was chatting with Jemima, and didn’t catch his eye this time. “As I said, a lot of things have happened, most of it not planned.”
“So what do you want to do now?”
“I need to see Petersen, tonight. Try to convince him I’m on his side and the law isn’t.”
“Won’t be easy. Our friends will know you’re here, I think you’re right about that. We’ve kept a keen eye on things, but we have to assume these guys know what they’re doing. They may have found him already. You might be chasing after a stiff.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? You’ve just told me Hackman wanted you to kill him.”
“True. But I suspect Hackman had his own agenda. What that was I don’t know, and quite frankly I don’t care now. But Headlock made it perfectly clear that he wanted Petersen back on Earth. He and Tyrell were going to give him the once over. I always thought Petersen had something on both of them, and so it proved. I’m hoping he’ll be a whole lot more co-operative with me once I tell him Hackman killed Rogers. And I always thought that story about the missing million credits was horse shit.”
“I agree. But so could Headlock’s wish to bring him back to Earth.”
“Seven guys to bring back one overweight pen-head? I don’t think so. They are here for us first, then Petersen. I’m convinced more than ever that Headlock wants me out of the way, too.”
“I can’t argue with that. Hmm.” Manny rubbed at his greying stubble. “Well, it’s been a while, Harry, but I can safely say we are heading into a shit storm. But what’s new about that, eh?”
They both laughed.
“I’m glad you’re here, Manny.”
“So you should be,” replied the Irishman. “Nothing much has changed since you were last here. It’s still quite lawless. Every other guy carries something. I take it it’s just you and me.”
“And the Captain makes three.” Harry pulled his jacket open just enough for Manny to see.
“Oh hi, little fella. Good to see you.”
“Heidi is sounding out someone she knows on the Council as we speak. With any luck she can convince them about what’s going on so we can mount some sort of resistance.”
“Well I hope Miss Heinlein is willing to donate to the cause, since there’s not much he
re in the way of a recognized defence force. It’s gonna cost. As I said, it’s still pretty much every man for himself.”
“Speaking of which, you should get yourself something to put in that holster other than your hip flask.”
“Guns are expensive up here.”
“Ha! And hotels aren’t? How’d you manage this?”
“Your advance helped, plus I’ve had some luck at the tables while I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I have friends here as well who can help us.”
Manny frowned. “If I recall correctly, the last time you were here things didn’t go too well.”
“The atomisers, I know.”
“I was talking about Blackjack, and that woman, what’s her name?”
“Daphne,” Harry said, with a twinkle in his eye. He shook himself. “Look, my time’s up for now.” He finished his drink in one gulp, and standing up, pulled his jacket straight. “You need to get a weapon, Manny.” He belched behind a hand.
“I’m on it, boss.”
“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear. And less of the boss, please. I’ll give Petersen the bailsman spiel, and see how he reacts. If that fails I’ll tell him his life is in mortal danger, and I’m the only one who can save him. And if that fails, then I’ll tell him what’s happened to Rogers.”
“Good plan. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I need your eyes and ears in the center here.”
“Are you sure? I can be quite persuasive.”
“Quite sure, my friend.”
“Have you forgotten the seven, highly trained, highly paid assassins ready to shred you?”
“No, and neither has the Captain.”
“One against seven. I never liked those odds.”
“I appreciate your concern Manny, but I’ll be fine.”
“Fuck fine. Be careful. Can you at least give me the address, just in case?”
“Just in case of what?”
“Look, Harry, you’re not with the Bureau any more, and Larry isn’t around to back you up. That’s my job while we’re up here.”
“I know, but I do need you to stay round here, for now anyway.”
Manny leaned back and sighed. “Okay,” he relented.
“But you have to promise me you’ll lay off the sauce, at least until this caper is up.”
“Aye aye, skipper.”
Harry shook his head. “I’ll meet you back here in one hour, with or without Petersen, but hopefully with.”
“Understood.”
“Can you get a firearm in that time?”
“I’m on it, skip.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later. And here’s the address.” Harry placed a piece of paper on the table.
Manny smiled, knowing how his friend had a mistrust for most things electronic. He picked it up and read it.
“I’m not so dumb to realize I may be walking into something that may not end well for me,” Harry told him. “If I’m not back here in an hour, it’ll be up to you.”
“Understood. Watch your back.”
Harry slipped out of the booth, and said his goodbyes to Jade and Jemima. The former bade him a long stare, one that hid no ambiguity.
Oh boy.
Manny waited till his boss was out of sight before making a gesture for the girls to follow him.
31
13
Petersen’s apartment block was about a ten minute walk from Manny’s hotel. It was situated in the Borough of Burroughs, the more seedy of the four districts that made up Mars Central, the other three being Wells, Schiaparelli and Lowell. Burroughs laid claim to being the first dome erected during the heady days of colonization. Unfortunately, it had been left behind technologically, as each subsequent dome was designed and built with better amenities and living conditions than its predecessor. It was now an area for the forgotten and dissolute.
Wells housed the hospital, and three of the four schools. Schiaparelli contained the plaza, parks, library, council offices, law courts, the jail, and most of the vendors. Finally, Lowell was home to a private, gated section where all the rich people lived. The district contained the colony’s, heck, the planet’s, only golf course, together with its own hospital, school, gym and swimming pool.
Each Borough was a independent pressure dome, connected to its neighbor by a series of airlocks. This was merely sound construction sense. After all, it doesn’t pay to have all your colonists in one basket.
Yet despite the difference in functions, all four domes were dependent on the fifth, the farm. Since the colony was now self-sufficient in water, agricultural had become a boom industry. Every harvest saw the colonists enjoying different varieties of fruits and vegetables, a luxury unheard of as recently as a year ago. The dome itself was split into four sections, each pressurised and isolated from the other. These smallholdings differed little from their Earth counterpart. There were even separate pens for livestock.
All of the Boroughs were sub-divided into sectors, which over the decades since initial settlement, had become known as villages. This quaint custom had helped to ease the transition from Terran to Martian, so that one could be living in Hampton Village in the Borough of Lowell, or one could find oneself living where Harry now found himself, in Decadence Drive, Shitsville, Burroughs.
The Harrison building sat adjacent to the outer walls, where most of the structural works were in desperate need of repair. Harry walked past peeling paint and rusty girders, as well as poor street lighting that flickered intermittently, and overflowing garbage bins and inadequate sewers. He recalled his visit to Doctor Noe’s Surgery, however on this occasion there were no rats, at least none of the four-legged variety, and no murderous figments lying in wait. There were also three temporary repair patches in one section of the inner wall that he noticed, making him shiver. It was now pitch black outside, and he couldn’t shake off a feeling of impending dread as walked slowly down the street, his boots echoing all around him.
The address read, Unit 529, Harrison Building, Clarke Avenue, Burroughs, Mars Central. Pretty specific. Harry stopped outside and looked up. The building appeared ready to collapse. There were riveted steel plates at various locations going all the way up the façade, and more than one of the balcony railings were hanging free of their supports on one side. It was apparent that the Council had pretty much given up on this part of town.
Harry set his teeth and stepped inside. The lobby was small and grotty, as was the walking tattoo exhibition sat behind the front desk. A stale, almost rancid smell filled the air. It reminded Harry of a long neglected crime scene.
“And what can I do for you?” said the man, his bald head beading with sweat. His sleeveless shirt was also damp with perspiration, with dark patches showing through at the sternum, neck and beneath each armpit.
“I’m looking for someone,” Harry replied, deciding immediately that the direct approach was best.
“And who might that be?”
“The guy in five two nine. Is he in?”
“Who’s asking?”
“His lawyer.”
The man scoffed. “Well I’m his personal bodyguard in that case.” Harry noted the man’s hand slowly disappear under the counter. “You wanna see him, it’s gonna cost ya.”
“I figured. How much?”
“Two hundred.”
“Hmm. That’s rather a lot.”
“Looks like you can afford it. Nice suit.”
“Thanks. Want to take a look underneath?”
“Eh? You a faggot or something?”
“I’m just here to see a friend. Speaking of which, if your hand doesn’t come back up empty, I’ll introduce you to another friend of mine. He’s under here.” Harry placed a hand on his lapel.
The man’s expression faltered. “Okay. I don’t want any trouble. My hand’s coming back up.”
“Nice and slow, that’s the way.”
The man’s hand came deliberately back into view, and Harry told him to place them bo
th on the counter, palms up. He complied, sweating even more in the process.
“You’re nervous about something. Is there anything I should know about our friend?”
The man moved his eyes to his right, and Harry just had time to see the curtains move apart before all hell broke loose. There came the whizz whee sound of compressed air cartridges, and the tattooed man suddenly clutched at his throat before he had a chance to move again for his weapon. Harry instinctively ducked, and reaching for his gun, proceeded to fire three shots into the curtain, their ear splitting reports echoing around him. The recoil pushed at his shoulder, and boy did it feel good! There was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.
Harry kept his gun aimed at the curtain, his eyes looking everywhere. The tattooed man could be heard gurgling and gasping for breath. A quick look over the counter told Harry there was nothing he could do. The bullet had passed clean through, severing the carotid artery. The man was drowning in his own blood.
Someone came bursting out of the office door to his right, one arm raised. Harry ducked again as he heard the same whizz whee cutting the air. He returned fire, letting loose two more rounds and hitting his target in the central mass.
“Four point one as the bullets leave my gun,” he murmured as the man fell, a dead weight. His old gunnery sergeant would have approved.
“Two to the torso. Textbook. Remember the five T’s, ladies. Hit ‘em twice and they ain’t getting up.”
There was more movement from both sides. Several shots zinged past, and Harry felt one graze his arm. Momentarily off guard, he fired twice in each direction, left then right, and crouched down behind the counter with more shots ringing around him. Funny how they gave little or no sound, just that faint whizz as they cut the air. But that did not prevent them from causing noisy havoc. Harry covered his head as splinters flew from the counter top, and holes started to appear either side of him. He screamed and fired two more rounds haphazardly over his head, hoping the mere sound of the Captain’s fury would slow them down. Plus it felt damn good! But nothing doing. The shots kept on coming. Time for some drastic action.
“I got help arriving!” he shouted. “Any second now my crew will be coming through the door.”
