by John Shirley
“What about the other truck?” the man asked.
“I need that for something.”
Brick drove up in the outrider, with the robot and the little girl sitting beside him. Feena was frowning, sulking.
Feena’s uncle Weeble scowled as he picked her up out of the outrider and set her on the ground. “We’re going back to the settlement,” he said. “Go on, get in the truck.”
“Are they all dead? The bad guys?” she asked, looking around. “Did Brick kill ’em all?”
“They’re dead,” Brick said, nodding. “I killed ’em. Mordecai helped a little.”
Mordecai snorted but said nothing.
“Come on, kid,” Weeble said, half dragging Feena to the truck.
“I don’t wanta go with you,” she said.
“Stop arguing. You wanta be left out here with the skags and the rakks? Maybe get eaten by Tunnel Rats?”
“No. But . . .”
“Those Vault Hunters got no time to take care of you.”
That, at least, was true, Mordecai thought. But he saw that wistful look on Brick’s face as Weeble lifted her into the truck, the red-faced man climbing in after her.
Mordecai turned to Tyno. “But you—you can take my outrunner. I’ll take some weapons from it, some other stuff, but it’s armed. You can use it to get to your father.”
“My father?!” Tyno looked genuinely surprised.
“Your father is Commander Ripper, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He’s all right? I haven’t heard from him in ages!”
Mordecai grunted. “I’m not surprised. Jasper’s been keeping the two of you separated. He probably intercepted any attempt by you to contact your dad. And your dad doesn’t know where you were sent. Just that you were with one of the raiding parties. He told me you’re the only reason he stays working for Jasper—to protect you. He’s got the impression from the boss that if he quits, Jasper issues an order to have you shot.”
“What?!”
“That’s the way it sounded to me. You can get the details with your old man. I’ve got his frequency on my ECHO. You call him, take the outrunner—and head out. You can meet, and head for the high southern country where the Nomads roam. That is—if you’re done working for Jasper . . .”
“Oh, I’m done. You’ve got a deal.”
“Good. But there’s something I’ll want your dad to do for me in return.” He turned to the prisoners who were still loading the truck. “Hurry up, you people!” Mordecai called. “Go! Reamus is liable to send out an expedition to find you. He was expecting you. You need to get home fast as you can. And when you get there this time, put up some good defenses!”
Within minutes, the truck was on its way. Mordecai went to search the bodies, till he found one with an outfit that was reasonably intact, not too bloody—just the right size to fit over his outer clothes. It was sometimes useful to be as skimpily built as Mordecai was. He settled on the Bruiser’s mask and goggles, for Brick. He had to clean blood off them, though.
Brick and Tyno were going over the bodies of Reamers, looking for anything useful. They didn’t find much. The prisoners had been there first. It seemed to Mordecai that Brick was stalling, taking his time and hanging around here, looking unusually grim. Which wasn’t like Brick . . .
Extra watched Mordecai put the uniform on over his clothes. “I hypothesize that you are either feeling cold, so you wish an extra layer of warmth, or you are putting on a disguise.”
“Now you’re getting warmer, robot.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I mean with the disguise idea. That’s what it is.”
“Can you disguise me, too?”
“Your disguise will be to keep your mouth shut. And don’t say you don’t have a mouth; you know what I mean.”
“I will speak as I please, little man,” said the voice of Elenora Dufty, issuing from the robot. “Let the robot stay silent. That would be good. But you’ll have an earful of me, whenever I choose.”
Mordecai had been avoiding engaging the Dufty mind tucked into the Claptrap. But this time he turned toward it and said, “Elenora. Or whatever you are. Can you hear me?”
“Certainly.”
“You oughta remember that I don’t need you, ‘Elenora.’ I can grenade that Claptrap into itsy-bitsy pieces and I’d do it without a second thought. It’s just a machine. If you want me to keep your annoying presence here, so you can torment me—then make yourself useful. Or show me how the Claptrap is useful.”
“I’ll consider the matter. I will tell you that the Claptrap is a powerful weapon.”
“A weapon? How?”
“I am not willing to reveal that. And I will prevent the robot from revealing it. But I will reveal the weapon in my own good time. It is very useful, and powerful. You’ll want to have it around.”
“Actually,” said Extra, “I don’t think I do know what kind it is anyway so really there’s no need to prevent—”
“Silence!” Elenora’s voice interrupted jarringly. She went on with a toxic silkiness. “You will find, Mordecai, that an extra powerful weapon will be necessary. I am that weapon. But I will only reveal it when the time comes . . . after you’ve paid for deserting me!”
Tyno, hearing this as he walked up to Mordecai and the robot, said, “Not sure what’s going on here—but if I was you, I’d blow that robot up, maybe use a rocket launcher. I wouldn’t trust any two-voiced robot that turns into an angry female.”
“I was actually thinking of using a grenade,” Mordecai said. “Cheaper than a rocket shell.”
“Now wait!” Extra protested. “I’m sure I’ll be useful! Positive!”
“You haven’t been yet,” Mordecai pointed out. “You almost got me killed. Maybe Hyperion is sending more interstellar assassins after you right now.”
“Ohhh . . .” The robot made a sound fairly close to a dismissive chuckle and waved its extender in an imitation of a human’s don’t worry about that gesture. “I’m sure it’ll be weeks before they get around to that! Probably. And I can be useful . . . I’ll show you! And don’t forget—secret weaaaaa-pon! I’m a secret weaaaaa-pon! Look out, everybody!” The Claptrap spun around. “I’m a secret weapon!”
“I told you not to do that jittery Claptrap stuff,” Mordecai said.
“Oh. Sorry.” Extra froze so still it might’ve been switched off.
“Oh look!” squealed a girlish voice—Feena’s voice. “He’s so cute when he kneels down like that!”
Mordecai turned to see Feena running toward them, out of breath. Her face was scarlet as she puffed past, running up to Brick, who was kneeling by a corpse.
“Hi, Brick!” she shouted. “I’m back!”
“Feena! How’d you get back here?” Mordecai demanded.
Still breathing hard, Feena walked up to the kneeling Brick and patted him on the head. “I like the way Brick growls. He’s a lot like a bulldog I used to have. He even smells the same.”
Brick growled. But almost smiled as she patted him on the head. He stood up. “How’d you get here, kid?”
“I jumped out the back of the truck, when Uncle Weeble wasn’t looking. I don’t think anyone saw me. They were too busy arguing about the best route and splitting up the food and all that. I brought a can of food for you, look!” She drew it from inside her jacket. “See! Can we go back to the camp? It’s cold out here. I’m tired.”
“But what are you doing here?” Mordecai asked. “Don’t you want to be with your family?”
“Uncle Weeble’s the only family I got left alive. He tries to put his hands in my pants sometimes. I don’t like it.”
Brick looked across the tundra. The truck was just a distant spot on the horizon but Mordecai could tell Brick was considering going after it, dragging Weeble out of the truck, and killing him. And Mordecai simply had no time for that.
Hastily, Mordecai said, “Okay, well, Feena—You can’t go with us, but . . .” He hooked a thumb at Tyno. “You said you lik
ed Tyno here. And he’s gonna go meet his dad. You know, Feena—you might like being a Nomad, roaming around with those tough guys. They’d keep you safe. Teach you to kill stuff.”
Tyno nodded. “Me and Dad, we’re going back to the Nomads. And I got a girl, back there. We were thinking of getting married. I think you’d like her. She could take care of you.”
“Okay!” Then Feena looked at Brick. “But Brick’s coming, too, right?” She looked at Tyno imploringly.
A whole new facial expression flickered, briefly, across Brick’s face. Sadness, mingled with regret. And he sighed—which Mordecai had never heard him do before. “Kid, you be better off with the Nomads. Me and Mordecai got some stuff to do and . . . you’d probably get killed.” He brightened up a little, adding, “But after they teach you to kill stuff—why, you can help me kill stuff!”
She looked at him saucer-eyed. “Really? Then you’ll come and see me if I go with Tyno?”
“Sure I will.” He scratched his head, showing puzzlement. “But—” Brick looked at Tyno. “How do I find you?”
Tyno walked thoughtfully over to them. “Do you know where Krom’s Canyon is? Northeast of Rust Commons?” Tyno asked.
Brick nodded.
“Just come there, Brick, when you’re ready. Krom is dead, his men are dead—and the Nomads have taken the place over. My tribe is from that territory. That’s where my father will head—and we’ll take Feena there, if she wants to go.”
“Will you teach me to kill stuff, for real?” Feena asked him. “And—will you stay there till Brick comes?”
Mordecai stared at her. Did this little girl really need to “kill stuff for real”? But then—Pandora did things to people . . .
“Yes,” Tyno said. “And yes!”
“Then I guess I’ll come with you.” She gave Brick a hug—it must’ve been like hugging a boulder—and patted him on the head.
Then she went to Tyno and put her small hand in his.
• • •
Not quite noon. Mordecai and Brick were driving toward Tumessa in one of the two intact trucks left from the small convoy. Brick was driving, barely fitting behind the wheel. The Claptrap was riding in the back—something it had bitched about.
And so did the bitch, Mordecai thought.
“You will keep me near to you at all times!” Elenora had said, in that fingernails-on-glass voice of hers.
Too bad, you ride in back.
But suppose she got mad enough to activate that weapon of hers?
Mordecai shrugged. That probably wouldn’t fit in with her agenda, whatever it was. And he wasn’t cramming that irritating Claptrap in here, too.
Bloodwing stirred sleeping on his shoulder, and snored softly. Mordecai sat beside him. Mordecai looked at his pet. She was asleep, eyes closed and head drooping, having gorged on the bodies of the men he and Brick had killed. As Bloodwing perched there, right next to his head—she passed gas.
“Dammit, Bloodwing—” He opened the window to blow the carrion reek away. He glanced at Brick. Icy wind coursed through the truck’s cab. “Sorry, Brick. She . . .” But Brick looked so wistful Mordecai couldn’t go on.
After a moment, Brick said, “You sure Tyno will get her there safe?”
“Sure, man. Sure he will.”
“Didn’t seem like much of a fighter.”
“They’ll probably be okay. Ripper’s good. They’re going to meet Ripper.”
“You sure of that, too?”
“I called Ripper, made a deal with him. And he told me he was going to meet him on the edge of Corpse Crevice. Just about ten clicks from Gunsight. Tell you what, I’ll confirm he’s on his way. See it’s going okay. If I can raise him . . .” Mordecai punched the truck’s dashboard ECHO on, adjusted it to the right frequency, and spoke into the grid.
“Ripper? Yo, Commander Ripper! It’s Mordecai. You reading me?”
There was a staticky hiatus and then Commander Ripper’s voice came clearly from the truck’s ECHO.
“Yeah, Mordecai . . . I read you . . .”
“You headed for the meeting?”
“I am already there, waiting for him. It’s only a quarter click, that little canyon—just a crack in Frostbite Highlands. Not someplace I could miss him. And I gave him precise coordinates.”
“Good! So—you got your son coming . . . what about my end?”
“I left that gift for her. Wasn’t easy. And I’m going to deliver the message you asked for, to the boss. I just hope this line is secure. Supposed to be. You never know. Let’s keep this short.”
“We’re all done—make sure you get him that message. Send it from Corpse Crevice—that’ll lend, uh, authenticity to the whole thing.”
“That’s the idea—hey! Outrunner coming! Looks like the one I gave you! Yeah, two in it! That’s the kid you told me about!” He chuckled.
“What?”
“Can’t believe I’m taking a little girl with me and my boy to Krom’s Canyon! But we got to raise kids, too, or there’s no more Nomads. She gets old enough, we’ll find a good Nomad for her to marry. Hey, Tyno!” Ripper’s voice was happier than Mordecai had ever heard it sound. “Over here! Okay, over and out, Mordecai, see you sometime!”
“Don’t forget to give Jasper that message!”
“You got it, Mordecai!”
With that, Tyno cut the connection.
Mordecai leaned back, chewing a lip. He hoped Jasper took the bait.
“Technicals driving outta Tumessa up ahead! Coming out that way!”
“Yeah, I’ve been expecting ’em.”
“Kill ’em?”
“No! We’re outgunned and . . . no, we gotta play this cool! Let me deal with it! Oh—and quick . . . slow down, stop, and put on your disguise! The goggles and the mask!”
“But they stink of Bruiser!”
“Gotta tough it out, pal! Just do it!”
Brick growled but he put the goggles and mask on.
Ten minutes later they were surrounded. Four technicals had pulled up, one in front, one behind them, two to each side.
“Whoa, that’s thorough,” Mordecai said. “Okay, let me deal with this.”
“You said that already.”
“Here they come . . .”
Two Reamers walked up to the driver’s side, aiming guns in the window.
“Don’t point those at me,” Brick growled.
Leaning toward them, Mordecai quickly said, “Hey, boys, glad you’re here—we didn’t know if we outdistanced the bastards.”
“Which bastards?” asked the taller of the two Reamers.
“The ones who hit the convoy! There were dozens of ’em! Jasper’s men! He found out we hit Jasper’s men, took their loot and their prisoners—sent a pack of the bastards over in outrunners.”
“How much did you save?”
“How much did we . . . ? Well. Nothing much. A Claptrap robot, and . . . we lost the rest of it.”
“You lost it? You ran—or you wouldn’t have gotten away alive.”
“We were way outnumbered!”
“Yeah? We’ll see what Reamus has to say about this. He’s gonna be pissed-off. And I think you know what that means.”
The Reamer turned to shout at the others. “We’re taking them into the fortress! Full cover!”
“Full cover,” Mordecai muttered, as the trucks escorted them through the gates of Tumessa. “How do we give these guys the slip?”
Brick shrugged. “You wanted to get close to Reamus. Here we are. Now we kill him, right?”
Mordecai looked around at the Reamer troops, the countless defenses—and mentally reviewed what he’d heard about Reamus. “Yeah. Right.”
Past the gate. Past a phalanx of Bruisers. Over the acid moat on the first bridge. Up the road, winding, winding . . .
Then—the second acid moat. The bridge. And their escort of Bandit technicals drew back.
“The Reamers don’t seem like they’re gonna cross this bridge with us,” Brick remarked, fro
wning.
Mordecai nodded. “Yeah, this bridge automatically dumps you in a moat of acid if you’re not one of them.”
Brick had already driven them on the bridge. He slowed the truck down, maybe thinking of throwing it in reverse—or high acceleration. Looking puzzled, he scratched his head with one hand, driving with the other. “Kind of late to tell me.”
“I should’ve mentioned it,” Mordecai admitted. “Well, see, I’ve got a chip I took off a body—it should identify me as one of them. So that’ll get us across. Probably.”
“Probably? I don’t like acid moats. You can’t kill them. Can’t find ’em. Can’t get out of ’em, neither.”
“We’re past the halfway point . . . almost.”
He glanced in the passenger-side mirror, saw that the technicals were indeed hanging back, waiting for Brick and Mordecai to cross the bridge. That seemed to indicate that maybe his disguise and his rap hadn’t been as convincing as he’d supposed. They were suspicious.
And if the chip didn’t work Mordecai and Brick would shortly get dumped in the moat of acid.
Funny, he thought, how a few seconds can seem to take a few minutes.
The trip across the bridge seemed to go on and on. But then they’d gotten to the far side, and Mordecai exhaled. “See?” He realized his voice was a bit squeaky with fear. He cleared his throat and made his voice gruffer. “The chip worked.”
Brick only grunted as they continued up the winding road to Reamus House.
• • •
Daphne now had two tentative plans.
Plan A was to use the machine pistol that Ripper had smuggled to her, blast her way through Jasper’s escort as they entered, before the armored door could close, slip through, and kill her way out of the building, appropriating better weapons as she went. Hopefully, she could kill Jasper in the process, and that would . . . just maybe . . . throw the place into leaderless confusion.
It probably wouldn’t work. And Plan B had an even smaller margin for success.
Daphne was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the staticky screen across from her. Boss Jasper had turned off the entertainment. Maybe to let her know time was running short and she should surrender herself to him. But she knew that behind the screen was a camera . . . watching her. Endlessly watching her.
