21
Thanks to his genetically engineered night vision, Blackzone’s depressing lack of functional streetlights didn’t bother Noose. The clouds overhead glimmered red in places, showing where Atlanta burned. The governor had missed his promised deadline by only a few hours throughout the rest of the metroplex, where the riots were over and the burning extinguished. Blackzone, however, remained caught in rampant gang battles and arson competitions. The fire department wasn’t coming to help, and neither were the police. Blackzone was being “contained”. If the residents wanted to burn it down and kill each other off, it wasn’t likely that the rest of Atlanta would mind.
Unfortunately for Noose, the rioting had scared all the cabbies into hiding, and trams hadn’t functioned in the Blackzone for years. He had spent most of the evening walking. The M70 he’d lifted from the thrillkids, now slung over his shoulder, had kept most of the scum from accosting him, but he’d had to fire it twice already to scare off some more street punks.
In the past five hours, Noose had visited four fixers who could have supplied the Akbar, but neither admitted to being the dealer. Now he neared the office of the last fixer he believed capable of the job. He wasn’t confident that this one would fess up either. The rioting caused by the Stiltzkin massacre was causing a giant uproar, and Regional was looking hard for the perps. Anyone found to be complicit would end up in a prison arcology for life. Everyone had gone tight-mouthed and stiff-lipped.
Noose turned down a short alley and knocked on a tall door. A few moments later a small portal above him opened and light streamed out.
“Who’s there?” asked a gruff voice.
“Down here,” Noose sighed.
The light dimmed as a big wary face pushed against the portal and looked down. “Oh, gimli. Whatta you want?”
“Gimli wanna talk Ipplitz,” Noose said, trying to imitate the doorman’s voice.
“Why?”
“Biz.”
“Who’re you?”
“Noose.”
“The Noose?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait.” The portal closed, plunging the alley back into darkness.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll wait,” Noose muttered to himself.
After a few minutes Noose heard bolts being drawn back on the door, which opened soon after. Bright light streamed into the alley, temporarily blinding the dwarf.
“Get yer ass in here before I close the door!”
Noose stepped inside quickly and the door closed behind him. His eyes adjusted, and he found himself in a small room with a big goon.
“I heard you was dead,” the door guard said.
“I ain’t.”
“What’s the SMG for?”
Noose dropped the Beretta on a card table in the middle of the room.
“Heard it was your birthday and I didn’t want to come without a gift.”
The goon snorted. “Yeah, sure. Follow me.”
“No problem.” Noose followed the hulking goon, over twice his height, down a long hallway to a large doorway. The goon opened the door and stepped aside. Noose started to move in, but the goon held him back.
“Piece,” the goon said simply.
Noose pulled out his firearm and handed it to the goon. “Glock Stormer? Big gun for a runt,” the goon noted.
“Small brain for a spud,” Noose replied.
“Backup,” the goon said.
Noose gave the guard his 9mm backup pistol and stepped into the large and well-furnished room. Plush leather, clean plastic, and silk predominated. Glittering collectible sports cards plastered the walls. One side of the room hosted a well-stocked bar, while the opposite vidwall was crammed with dozens of split screen sporting events, from basketball to football to bloodgames to aero-jousting.
A tall man in swimming trunks relaxed on a large sofa. His features were better than perfect, from chiseled jaw and cheeks, gleaming teeth, and styled eyebrows, to muscled chest and rippled abdomen. He’d obviously gone in for a lot of bodysculpting surgery. Seated beside him were two equally enhanced women in cheerleader outfits: neohuman pleasers genetically engineered and sculpted to look exactly like Marilyn Monroe.
“So, you’re Noose, eh?” the man asked.
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
“Not by my calendar.”
“Well, what can I do for you?” He smiled, teeth glittering in the light from the videos. “Need some explosives?”
“No. Just information.”
“Information? I don’t deal in information. I deal in a wide variety of lethal equipment.”
“That equipment include Akbar missile launchers?”
Ipplitz did not answer immediately, but gently stroked the bare legs of his two Marilyns, both of whom watched Noose with practiced bedroom eyes. “On occasion, I can get missile launchers. How many do you need?”
“Zero. Have you brokered any recently?”
“That’s privileged information, Noose. You know that.”
“What I know is that you have contacts in Global Security Administration.” Noose pulled the missile tube from his duster. “And that’s where this came from.”
“What might that be?”
Noose tossed him the tube. Ipplitz looked at it briefly. “Yes, very interesting. An empty missile tube. I don’t have any use for it.”
“Did you supply it?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Ipplitz shrugged, becoming noticeably impatient as one of his Marilyns nibbled his ear. “And even if I had, I wouldn’t admit it. I don’t betray customers to any tramp that walks in the door.” He tossed the tube back to Noose.
“I hope you’re not lying to me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because if you are, I’ll come back. And I won’t be as friendly as I am now.”
One of the women waved a pom-pom in front of the man’s face. He grabbed her arm and pushed her away. “Not now,” he told her, and stood up, leaving the women to embrace and squirm lasciviously on the sofa.
“Noose, Noose,” Ipplitz said softly, walking over and patting him on the shoulder. “You shouldn’t go around threatening people. Threats are strange animals, you know. Sometimes they scare people, sometimes they anger people, and sometimes, if you’re real unlucky, threats can make very, very bad enemies. You don’t want any more enemies.”
“Neither do you.” Noose shrugged away from Ipplitz’s hand and walked out the door.
Ipplitz stood motionless for several moments until he felt one of the women rub up against his back, her hands sneaking around to caress his chest, stomach, groin.
“Not now!” Ipplitz jerked away and strode to the bar against the wall. He poured himself a scotch and then called up the phone on the vidwall.
22
Thanks to Regional’s efforts to contain the violence within the perimeter of the Blackzone, it was well past two a.m. before Noose finally escaped the district, sneaking past a squad of Peacekeeper troops. He hailed a cab, but instead of returning to Cori’s apartment he directed the driver to his own home, also in Dekalb. He wasted little time in the penthouse loft, staying long enough only for a shower and a change of clothes and bandages. With a pocketful of fresh cigars, he flew his sleek black 2132 Nissan Detonator skycar back to Cori’s apartment. He had no great desire to disturb her rest, but she deserved to know how his investigations were progressing.
Before he’d left that morning, he’d found Cori’s code for the entrance, and so did not stop to use the buzzer. The lobby was empty: no sign of the attendant or unsatisfied corporate wives.
Noose leaned against the wall while the elevator came down. By the time he ascended to the fourteenth floor, he’d twice shaken himself from drowsiness. His wound, the lack of sleep, the painkillers, and the day’s exertions were beginning to tell on him despite his genetically engineered endurance.
Noose stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway to Cori’s door. He started to punch in
the code on the keypad beneath the palm scanner, then knocked instead. Several moments passed before the door opened and he looked up at Cori. She was wearing the same jeans and shirt; her face was strained and her eyes red. Seeing him, however, she managed to smile slightly.
“Where have you been?” she asked, evident concern in her voice.
“Checking on things,” he replied, walking into the apartment and sitting heavily on the sofa. Cori closed the door behind him and sat in a chair across the coffee table from the sofa.
“What did you find out?”
“I found out this plex is full of a bunch of maniacs.” He rubbed his forehead with one hand. When Cori said nothing, he looked up at her. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to snap. It’s just not the best day.”
“It’s the worst day,” she said softly. “But I want to apologize, too. For what I said.”
Noose got up and sat on the arm of Cori’s chair. He put a hand on her shoulder. “I wish there was something I could do for you to help with the pain.”
“There is. You can find the bastards that did it.”
“I’m working on it.”
“And?”
Noose stood up and pulled off his duster. “I’ve got someone checking on a blood sample for me. There’s a good chance he’ll identify at least one of the guys who did it. I also tried to get a line on the fixer who supplied the ordnance, but came up short.”
Cori frowned and said nothing.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find them.” He pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it. “I’ll take the serial number on the missile tube to a hacker friend of mine. He’ll be able to find out where it came from, and we can track its course from there.”
“What do you mean, a hacker friend?”
“Nate the Snake. You know him. He’ll have as good a chance of getting the info as anyone.”
Cori leaned forward and opened her mouth to say something, but stopped. She slowly reclined back in the chair and closed her mouth, watching as Noose relaxed on the sofa.
“When are you going to call him?” she finally asked.
“I left a message for him,” Noose responded. “He’ll call me when he gets it.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, he’ll call. Don’t worry. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll handle this. I just want you to relax.”
Cori didn’t reply.
“Until I talk to Nate, all we can do is wait.” Noose stretched around on the sofa, his head on the armrest. “I just need to take a few winks. Can you wake me in two hours?”
“Sure thing,” Cori replied without emotion. She watched as Noose closed his eyes and slowly slipped into sleep. His mouth relaxed, and the cigar drooped down. Cori took it from his mouth and put it out in the ashtray on the table. She stood looking down at him for several moments then retrieved the missile tube from his coat and walked into her bedroom.
23
Noose stretched on the sofa but stopped as a jolt of pain jerked through his side. He reached down and felt the source of the ache. He opened his eyes and squinted in the brilliant glare of the morning sun shining through Cori’s living room window. He held his hand against the light and sat up, smacking his lips and trying to moisten his dry mouth.
The wall said seven o’clock. Noose shook his head; he’d overslept. He looked around but saw no sign of Cori. He walked down the hall and found her bedroom door shut. There was no reason to wake her just yet. Sleep was probably the only respite she was getting from her grief.
He walked into the kitchen and, much to his comfort, found a pitcher of grapple juice in the refrigerator. Never one for kaf, he took the carton and drained it with long deep draughts. He wondered how humans had survived before genetic engineering brought hybrid fruits into existence. Apples and grapes were fine, but nothing beat grapple juice. He found a few hard bagels and some peanut butter and went out on the balcony to look at the city.
There were no signs of yesterday’s problems in evidence today. The skies were clear, unmarked by clouds or smoke, and crowded with skycars and airships. The Atlanta skyline shone brightly in the morning light, the Peerless Tower casting kilometers of deep shadow across the cityscape. Today would be a day to walk the streets and parks. For normal people, that is.
Noose finished the last bagel and returned to the living room where he retrieved his cell phone from the pocket of his duster. No messages. He looked down the hall. Cori’s door remained closed.
He’d have to go in and wake her, tell her he was leaving again. He knocked softly on her door. There was no response. He knocked harder, and quicker, but there was still nothing. Finally, he pushed open the door and stepped into the room.
Cori was sprawled unconscious on the floor, her long dark hair spread out above her head. The neural interface cord plugged into the port behind her ear led to a keyboard on the floor next to her.
24
A strangled cry escaped Noose’s mouth as he leapt forward to kneel at Cori’s side, placing two fingers to her throat. To his relief, he found a pulse. He removed the cord from the neuroport behind her ear and gently lifted her onto the bed. As he pulled his arms from beneath her, her head rolled and she groaned.
Noose pulled up the sheets around her and rushed back to the kitchen, returning with a glass of cold water. He pulled a stool from against the wall, placed the water glass on the nightstand, and sat beside Cori on the bed.
Her face was pale, though from the violent net dump or the loss of her sister, he did not know. He watched her face, the small yet full lips, opened slightly as she slept, and the perfect slope of her trim nose, the sharp contrast of her dark eyebrows, and the fine lines of her cheeks leading down to the curve of her delicate neck. He had always found her features incredibly appealing, but this was the first time he had ever contemplated not being able to see them again. He did not like the thought.
Cori’s hand moved to hold her forehead and Noose leaned forward, watching her eyelids flutter open to reveal her rich eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Noose asked, picking up the water glass.
Cori shook her head and smacked her parched lips. Noose put the glass to her mouth and she drank, some water leaking from her lips and flowing down her cheek and neck.
“Better?”
Cori nodded and smiled, the curve of her narrow mouth a welcome sight to the dwarf. “Yes… What time is it?”
“Almost eight in the morning,” the dwarf replied. “What the hell were you doing in the net?” His tone was slightly scolding but he couldn’t put much conviction into being mad at her.
“What do you think? I’m not going to wait around until Nate or some other hacker calls you back. In case you forgot, I can hack just as well as the rest of them.” She stared into his eyes, daring him to deny this statement.
“For God’s sake, Cori. You’re in no shape to go breaking into protected files. I called Nate so you wouldn’t have to risk it in your condition.”
She frowned. “What condition is that?”
Noose opened his mouth to reply, but realized that Cori’s frowns were a divine sight to behold.
“Are you going to answer me?” Cori asked angrily.
Noose smiled and reached out to hold her hand. “I’m just happy that you weren’t hurt.”
Cori was surprised at the sincerity and concern plainly evident on the normally sarcastic dwarf’s face. For some reason, it unsettled her. She preferred to have him act his regular flirtatious self, the macho dwarf never lacking a double entendre or innuendo. To hide her discomfiture, she drank the rest of the water from the glass.
“So, you tried hacking into the GSA supply files?” Noose finally said, taking the glass from her, but not releasing her other hand.
“That’s right.”
“Did you find out anything?”
“I found out that their systems are much better protected than I imagined.”
“Too much for you to handle?”
“Hell, no,” Cori replied, sli
ghtly insulted. “I got what I wanted, just took a little too long to get out with it.”
“Well, be more careful next time,” Noose suggested kindly. “I already lost one Kniginyzky, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you leave me, too.”
Once again, Cori was unsettled by Noose’s compassion. She looked away to the window, aware that her first response to Noose’s words had been happiness, instead of sorrow at the reference to her sister.
Noose squeezed her hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you. I won’t mention her again, if you like.”
“No, that’s all right. It’s no use trying to ignore reality.”
“So, are you going to tell me what you uncovered, or do I have to drag it out of you?”
Cori forced a smile. “No need for that. I managed to identify the serial number on the missile tube. It was part of a big milspec shipment that was hijacked on IR-75 three weeks ago.”
“Any of the hijackers caught?”
“No. It was professional. Hijackers ran the trucks off the road and used stun guns to take out the drivers and guards.”
“Very clean.”
“Too clean. Not a single guard fired a shot.”
“Sounds like they decided to take a fall for a little extra cash,” Noose said.
“Why else would the hijackers use stunners?”
“So, what kind of ordnance did they get?”
Cori tried to lean up in the bed, but Noose pushed her back. She glared at him in annoyance. “Fine. List should be on the printer.”
Noose went to the small disposable printer on the far wall. He ripped off the protruding printout, and scanned it as he returned to his seat on the stool.
“Quite a haul. This is enough to start a localized war.”
“And there’s an Akbar on the list,” Cori pointed out. “Not to mention a couple Violator assault cannon, and a few grenade launchers.”
Noose kept reading. “Mostly high explosive and incendiary ammunition. More than enough to pull the job on Stiltzkin’s.”
Dead Dwarves Don't Dance Page 9
