Perception Fault

by James Axler

  Mebbe—else they’re wising up to your little trap, Ryan thought, but kept that notion to himself.

  The companions fell silent until they reached the hotel, the wag passing through the quiet streets without interference. Occasionally, they saw another vehicle go by, but even at this hour, there were hardly any pedestrians out. Caddeus brought the wag to a stop outside the hotel’s front door. “End of the line, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Ryan and the rest of his group filed out. “Thanks for the ride, Sergeant.”

  Caddeus smiled, revealing surprisingly white teeth. “My pleasure—nice to get an easy duty night for a change. You folks have a good evening.” With that, he drove away in a cloud of blue-black exhaust.

  Everyone trooped into the lobby, which was also much quieter than it had been earlier in the evening. Carter seemed to have finally gone off duty, since a young woman, who greeted them with a smile and a nod, was now behind the desk. Ryan noticed the bar was also dark and silent. “Apparently, they do their drinking early in Denver.”

  “There are a variety of other places open if you care for more entertainment this evening, sir,” the desk clerk said.

  “Not tonight, thanks.” They all headed for the elevator, a bleary-eyed Doc leaning against J.B., mumbling something incoherent as they waited for the doors.

  “On an express elevator to hell…goin’ down…”

  “What the hell’s he mumbling about?” Ryan asked.

  J.B. grunted as he maneuvered Doc’s nearly dead weight into the elevator. “Dunno—I’m just trying to make sure he doesn’t drool on me before I can dump him in his room.”

  The trip up passed in relative quiet, with only Doc’s loud breathing and muttering breaking the silence. Unfortunately, they hadn’t yet reached their destination when a pungent stink assaulted everyone’s nose.

  “What in Gaia— Oh, who let go in here?” Krysty asked, covering her nose and mouth.

  “Who think?” Jak said, waving at the offending air around him with his hand while trying to get as far away from Doc as possible.

  “Call that a silent but deadly back on the war wags, eh, Ryan?” J.B., stuck as he was next to the old man, just did his best to grin and bear it.

  “Can’t talk—trying not to breathe.” The sound of the elevator reaching its destination was the sweetest noise Ryan had heard all day.

  Gasping, everyone spilled out as fast as they could. J.B. hustled the asleep-on-his-feet Doc to the door of his suite, then foisted him off on Jak. “Here—your problem now.” Grabbing Mildred’s hand, he towed her toward their room. “Suddenly feel like I have to wash up. See you in the morning.”

  “Yeah.” Ryan fumbled with his key card, the light refusing to change from red to green. Muttering a curse, he swiped the card again, and the door clicked open. “Hmm, funny, door seemed to open on its own.”

  It might have been the drinks, or the dinner, or even Doc’s gaseous emanation, but Ryan’s normally razor-sharp reflexes were a bit dulled when he walked into the room to see an unfamiliar man dressed in khaki pants and a dark green shirt sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, each hand resting on the corresponding arm of the chair. Still, he retained enough presence of mind to reach for his blaster, actually getting his hand on it as he felt a prick in his back, right before his entire body was enveloped in a flood of searing pain.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The agony was like nothing Ryan had ever felt before. Every muscle, every nerve ending, every inch of his body was locked in tortured spasms. Even through the overwhelming pain, he tried to make his arm draw his Sig Sauer, but couldn’t. It was as though his fingers—hell, his entire arm—was locked in place where it was, unable to do anything but clutch the butt of his blaster. He heard a strangled, incoherent noise, and was shocked to realize that the tortured grunt was coming from his own mouth. His jaw clenched, tears streaming from his squeezed-shut eyes, Ryan could do absolutely nothing but wait for death to come.

  As suddenly as it had seized him, the pain stopped, except for a heavy, tingling feeling in his limbs and torso. Ryan cracked his eyes open to find himself staring at the carpet—he’d fallen over and hadn’t even realized it. He felt like he had just run fifty miles, pulling a fully loaded war wag the entire way. He felt efficient hands on his body, expertly patting him down, taking his blaster and the knife at the back of his neck, and searching for any other hidden weapons. All the while, questions kept running through his scrambled mind: who the hell were these people? How did they get into their room?

  “Well I’ll be a son of a bitch—these crazy things really do work, don’t they?”

  Twisting his head, Ryan spotted Krysty standing a few feet away, arms up, a blaster aimed at her head by a masked man dressed in camouflage from head to toe. She moved her eyes left, right and back, indicating three men, then raised an eyebrow, her silent question clear.

  Attack?

  As he was being flipped over, Ryan managed to shake his head, telling her to hold off—for now. Although her Gaia power could probably reduce these three to a red, wet pulp, it took time for her to summon it, more than long enough for the gunman to put a round into her skull. Besides, if they’d wanted to kill them, they could have done it twice over already. The fact that they hadn’t meant they wanted something.

  Although, truth be told, Ryan much preferred the Carringtons’ way of asking.

  He turned his head to regard the leader, who was still sitting in the chair, watching him. In many ways he was the opposite of Carrington, short where the other man was tall, pale where the other was dark, with short, straw-blond hair and light blue eyes. They were both slim, but his gaze was as cold and dispassionate as the Denver leader’s was fiery and ardent.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but was stayed by a knock on the door of the suite. “Ryan, you okay in there?”

  The man didn’t move, but signaled the man holding the blaster on Krysty, who moved her forward with the pressure of the gun muzzle against the back of her neck. “Answer it and get him gone. You got one chance. No signals or funny business, or you both die before the cavalry comes. Nod if you understand.”

  Krysty’s emerald-green gaze flicked to Ryan, still prone on the floor, as she nodded once, then reached for the door, opening it just wide enough for her face to appear.

  “Hi, Krysty. Thought I heard a commotion in there. Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, something Ryan ate at dinner isn’t agreeing with him. He made for the bathroom the moment we got inside, and hasn’t come out yet.”

  “Didn’t seem bothered on the ride back.”

  “It hit him real sudden-like, but I think a good night’s sleep will take care of it. Thanks for checking, though.”

  “Sure, well, if you’re sure he’s okay. See you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, J.B.”

  Ryan saw the sec man tense, but Krysty closed the door without incident and backed away from the door. The seated man waved her toward the bed. “Sit down and keep your hands when I can see them at all times.”

  “I suppose I should apologize for busting in here and bushwhacking you both, but I can’t say I’m all that particularly sorry about it. I needed to make sure I had your attention, and since I have heard about the great and terrible Ryan Cawdor, it seemed that certain precautions were in order.”

  The last sentence got Ryan’s full attention, even over the various twitches and aches from his body. “You know who I am?”

  The man in the chair twitched one shoulder, which might have been a shrug or a simple deflection of the question. “Nowadays it seems I can’t walk a mile without tripping over a one-eyed man, but a one-eyed man who’s chilled as many people as folks say you have is a different story altogether.”

  Now Ryan was genuinely puzzled. “Have we met?”

  “Nope, never set eyes on each other until about three minutes ago, but I imagine we both know whole lot about each other, mebbe some of it’s even true. For example, I’m sure you
both know who I am.”

  “You must be Tellen.”

  “Right in one, Cawdor. I knew you were smart. Course, a man has to be in this day and age, to see as many sunrises as you and your friends have.”

  Ryan gingerly rolled over and got on his hands and knees. His vision swam as he stared at the carpet and the rich meal he’d enjoyed earlier that evening now swam uneasily in his stomach like a huge, curdled pool of bile. He rose so he was kneeling on the carpet, his hands supporting him on his thighs. “I’m sure I’m not the only smart one around.”

  His captor nodded. “You’d be right. But even smart men don’t know everything. Like I’ll bet you didn’t know that I used to be part of this little social experiment Carrington’s running, did you?”

  Ryan frowned, and Krysty also stared at him in disbelief. “Not only didn’t I know that, but I have a bastard hard time believing it, given how chummy you two seem at the moment.”

  “Why would I bother telling you if it weren’t true?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you got a reason, but the question you should be asking yourself is whether or not I even give a flying fuck. Then your next question should be how long you think you’re going to live once you leave this room.”

  That brought a smile to the blond-haired man’s mouth. “I’d heard you had balls the size of boulders, and those rumors, at least, were correct. Both of those queries are very pertinent to the situation. Very well, I’ll keep this short and to the point. I’m aware of why the illustrious leader of this city had dinner with you—and it wasn’t to shine you on about how great he’s made the place. No, he wants you to check out the lights to the east.”

  Ryan saw no point in lying. “That came up during the conversation.”

  Tellen shook his head. “Old fool. Does he really think he could keep that a secret? The ranchers I trade with on the outskirts have been talking about nothing else for the past few weeks.”

  “Then why don’t you send your men to check it out? If there’s anything there, you’d have first claim to it.”

  “No, once Carrington threw me out of here, I learned real quick to never go into a situation where you don’t know the lay of the land. I learned even quicker that if you can convince someone else to go for you, so much the better.”

  “Well, you haven’t done a very good job of convincing me to do shit for you, so I’m not even sure why you’re still here flapping your gums.”

  “Because I have an offer for you, as well, one that I think would be very persuasive to a man of your talents.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You play along as Carrington’s lackey—just hear me out before you say anything,” Tellen continued when Ryan’s expression darkened even more. “You head out there, see what there is to see, and if it is anything remotely useful, you signal my men, who’ll be waiting a couple miles away, and we come in and secure the area.”

  “Seems mighty one-sided to me.”

  “I wasn’t quite finished. In return, once I take the city, you run it with me.”

  Ryan could hardly believe his ears. “I control Denver with you? Sort of a cobaronship?”

  Tellen shook his head. “I’m not interested in lording over these people for petty power or domination. I doubt you’ll believe this, but I want the same thing that Carrington wants—to spread the ideals of true civilization across this land.”

  “If you and Carrington agree on that, why the siege to take the city?” Krysty asked.

  “Let’s just say there’s a large dispute between us about the correct method of operation,” Tellen said. “But the fact is, he’s dying—old bastard’s just too stubborn to realize it—and handing the reins over to his daughter is like giving a stickie a lit torch and pointing it toward a barrel of gas. She’s too hotheaded and impatient to run a place like this.”

  “But you’re the guy the people will flock to when their leader is in the ground, is that it?” Ryan frowned at him like he was several bullets short of a full mag. “In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re the invader in this picture. You really think those people are going to welcome you with open arms, particularly after you’ve tried to take over the city by force?”

  Now Tellen shook his head, staring at Ryan like he was the slow mutie. “You disappoint me, Cawdor. I’d’ve thought you’d knew how people fall in line under a strong leader. As long as their everyday existence isn’t disrupted, they’ll follow anyone who promises more of the same. Their lives are good here, and I’ll bet they won’t mind a change at the top, as long as they still get what’s theirs. ’Sides, there’s more people in this city who feel the way I do than you might think. Those folks—people who’re smart enough to look to the future—are working toward my goals, not Carrington’s.”

  Yeah, I figured that out already, Ryan thought. There was no way Tellen could have slipped through the perimeter and gotten here without inside help, and someone pretty high up in the chain of command to boot.

  “Those goals include rape and pillage?” Krysty asked.

  Her question seemed to throw Tellen off his stride for a moment. He glanced sidelong at her, his eyebrow raised. “Pray tell me just what you mean by that.”

  “I mean, if your men are following your lead, they’re piss-poor examples of the kind of person you’re attracting for your little army here.” She went on to detail her experience at the hands of the sec men she had run into the night before.

  Tellen stood, the top of his head barely coming level to her eyes. “Ma’am, on behalf of myself and all who follow me, I sincerely apologize for what you had to endure from those men. That sort of action is neither condoned nor encouraged. If you would give me a physical description of them, or their names if you happened to catch them, I will make sure they are arrested, tried and punished appropriately.”

  Now it was Krysty’s turn to smile, her white teeth flashing in the lights like a satisfied animal. “You won’t need to follow up on that promise. They’re already dead.”

  Tellen nodded once, appraising both of them with a satisfied smile. “It seems you all live up to the stories, and then some. So, what’s it gonna be, Cawdor? You’ve traveled all over this country, if the stories are true. What you looking for? Fame? Fortune? The land of plenty just over that next horizon? If it’s any of the three, you could do a lot worse than here.”

  Ryan rose to his feet, mindful of the two blasters tracking his every move. “Yeah, and I’m going to tell you the exact same thing I told Carrington—I’ll think about it.” He walked to the door, deliberately turning his back on Tellen and his sec men. Opening the door, he turned back to stare at the three of them. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”

  “Well, I’d hoped you’d be more of a conversationalist, but I also know when I’m coming close to overstaying my welcome. Think hard about my offer, Cawdor. I believe you’ll find it’s the best option around.”

  “How am I supposed to get hold of you when I’ve made up my mind?”

  Tellen smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be in touch. I’m looking forward to working with you.” He nodded at the man who had carefully moved to the other side of the door, and now scanned the hallway before nodding. The rebel leader walked to the exit, careful never to cross between his henchmen and either Ryan or Krysty. At the doorway, he paused to look back at both of them. “You both have a good evening now.”

  As soon as the three men were out of the room, Ryan locked the door and dragged a chair over, wedging it under the knob. Krysty had grabbed her blaster and held it at the ready while she retrieved Ryan’s from under the bed where it had been tossed and handed it to him.

  “You all right?”

  He nodded, keeping his ear pressed to the door.

  “What’s the plan? We leaving?”

  “Not yet. Soon as I’m sure they’re gone, I want everyone together. It appears we’re only getting half the story from both sides. Before we do anything, I want to go over what we know, don’t know and need to know. Th
en we decide what to do about this city—and which side, if any, we come down on.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Black dust! I knew something wasn’t right when you answered the door. Should have gone back and made sure!” The Armorer smacked his fist into his leg. “I’m getting too bastard soft. Get a hot meal and a warm bed, and I start getting sloppy.”

  “No reason to beat yourself up, J.B.,” Krysty replied. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. If they’d thought you were on to them, Ryan and I would be dead, mebbe with you guys next. They were pros, they had help getting inside and they were ready for us. We’re all good, but there’s only so much you can do when you’re staring down the wrong end of a blaster an inch from your head.”

  Once Ryan was sure Tellen and his men had left, he had gone to the other rooms and rousted everybody, herding them into J.B. and Mildred’s room. After they had secured the area, Ryan explained about their unannounced visitors.

  Mildred shook her head. “It just all seems so incredible. Tellen, the leader of the enemy at the gates, just waltzes in here like he owns the place to have a little fireside chat with you? Not only that, but he’s comfortable enough to fill you in on how he used to be a part of the Free City, and that he’s planning to take over, as well. The man’s either got balls the size of grapefruits or he’s certifiably crazy.”

  Ryan nodded. “Ace on the line with that, Mildred. Only problem is we don’t know which one he is or how much to believe. The way he was talking, he plans on installing himself sooner rather than later. He figures the locals will bend the knee and welcome him as their new baron once he’s gotten Carrington out of the way.”

  “He might be closer to accomplishing that than we think. Look how easily he got into the heart of the city.” J.B. snorted, still disgusted with himself for his lapse of security. “Wonder if the major’s on his side. He looked like the sneaky sort who’d sell out if he was assured of his piece of the pie. Course, if he is, I’m surprised they don’t just head over to Carrington’s house and put a bullet in his brain, as well. Save him the trouble of besieging the place.”