A thin, dark-haired girl of no more than thirteen burst free of the building, ran down the six stone steps and into the twilit street. There was a bleeding gash across her cheek, another zigzagging along her bare shoulder. She wore a white singlet and faded blue shorts.
Stumbling, she went running across the rutted street, not noticing Jake at all.
From out of the building lunged a heavyset young man. Instead of a right hand he had a silvery knife with a ten-inch blade. “Out of the way, cabrón,” he said to Jake as he took off after the running girl.
She darted into a shadowy alley.
The heavyset cyborg galloped across the street, charged into the alley in her wake.
“This could be a setup,” Jake reflected. “But I better make sure.”
Drawing his lazgun, he headed for the alley.
22
STOPPING AT THE EDGE of the dark alley mouth, Jake heard the sound of the girl crying out in pain and then hard metal scraping against stone.
“I won’t miss again, chiquita,” came the voice of the cyborg. “You better just come along home with me.”
“No.”
The sound of running, then another cry.
Carefully Jake entered the alley. At first he saw nothing but thick darkness. Then he made out the flash of the cyborg’s knifehand as it was raised high.
“Just come back, bonita,” he was urging. “Hey, there’s only just three of us now. Rico probably isn’t in the mood anymore, after the way you kicked him.”
“No!”
Jake saw them now dimly. The young girl sprawled on the ground, the cyborg standing wide-legged over her. They were about fifteen feet into the alley.
Moving deeper into the darkness, Jake said, “Right about now, amigo, you better start moving clear of her.”
The young man turned, knifehand dropping. “Didn’t I tell you to keep the fuck out of this, gringo?”
“Just ease away from the girl.” Jake had his lazgun aimed at the shadowy figure.
“You ease away, cabrón. This is Max business, not yours.”
Halting a few feet from him, Jake ordered, “Back off. Now.”
Instead the cyborg lunged at him, swinging his knifehand up.
But Jake had moved.
The blade missed, ripping only the night air.
Jake kicked out with his booted right foot, catching the knifer in the groin.
“Madre!” He started to double up.
Jake kicked again, his boot toe connecting with the cyborg’s chin.
The young man jerked completely upright, as though he were trying to stretch and grow taller. His left arm slapped at his side and he produced a puzzled, whimpering noise in his throat. Then he began folding up. First at the knees, then in the middle. He hit the ground hard, flattened out, stayed there.
“Gracias,” whispered the girl.
Jake dropped to one knee beside her. “Let’s get you out of here. Can you walk?”
“Sí. I can—” She looked up suddenly at something above and behind Jake. “Las Máquinas!”
There were two more of them, climbing down the side of the building opposite. As big as the one Jake had felled, and both cyborgs, they were twenty-five feet up on a plasrod fire escape.
The nearer one had a flamegun instead of a left arm, the other a whirring saw in place of his right hand.
“You shouldn’t of done that!” shouted the closer one.
Sliding an arm around the fallen girl, Jake scooped her up and started moving.
A fat line of sizzling orange flame left the cyborg’s arm, cut across the alley and cooked a large black circle on the wall behind where Jake and the girl had been.
Jake fired his lazgun.
The beam sliced into the fire escape.
He fired again, slicing more of it away.
Aware of what was happening, both cyborgs tried to climb up and clear. But Jake had cut through the rickety fire escape above and below them. The center section gave way under their weight. Both came falling down.
The Máquina with the built-in flamegun hit first, landing with a bone-cracking thud. He kicked convulsively three times and ceased moving.
His arm jerked, spitting out a final spurt of flame. That cut across the chest of his sprawled companion and set his shirt afire.
He thrashed on the ground, screaming.
“This way quickly, señor.” The thin girl tugged at Jake’s sleeve. “There may be more of the gang coming.”
“Okay.” He allowed her to lead him farther into the alley and then through a side door in one of the buildings.
“Down these steps,” she said. “We can go through this cellar and get over to the next block. It’s where I was trying to get to.”
Nodding, Jake followed her down into the darkness.
He smelled damp earth and death.
The girl held his hand tightly, guiding him through the dark. “Sometimes people die down here. Sick people or people the cyborg gang doesn’t like. That’s why it stinks so.”
“You live around here?”
“Sí.”
“Where?”
“I’m not supposed to tell—watch out, señor. I think I just stepped on someone.”
His foot brushed against what felt like a body. “You’ll have to tell me where you live. Because I’m going to see you get safely there.”
“I can’t go home until after ten.”
“Why’s that?”
She didn’t answer.
He felt cool air blowing on his face.
The girl’s grip on his hand tightened. “Here, up these steps.”
A door creaked open and they were out on a cracked stretch of sidewalk.
“We’re going to have to take care of those cuts,” Jake said. “Home might be the best place to do that.”
She stood close to him while she considered what he’d suggested. “My name is Strella,” she said finally.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Jake.” He grinned at her. “Now, about where you live ...
“Well, we live at the Toro Plaza. Except that my father, who is sort of a watchman there, isn’t supposed to have his family living with him. If you consider my stupid little brother and me as a family.”
“And why can’t you go back there yet?”
She touched, very gingerly, at the knife gash on her bare shoulder. “Once in a while my father gets involved in things that are—shady. Then he’ll tell me and Janeiro, that’s my stupid little brother, to go away for a while. If I hadn’t been sent off tonight and then been dumb enough to wander into Las Máquinas territory—anyway, I’m grateful to you for coming along and helping me get away.”
“What sort of shady deal is set for the Plaza tonight? Do you have any idea, Strella?”
She looked up into the night, watching a fat tourist bus go flying over. “I overheard only part of what he was saying on the phone this afternoon,” she answered. “But I know it has to do with some kind of ambush. They’re luring someone to the Plaza.”
“And then killing him?”
Shaking her head, the girl answered, “I don’t think so. My father—he’s not much of a father, by the way—he said something about using a stunner and keeping the man out of sight for a few days.”
“Who’s going to do the job—just your father?”
“No, a son of a bitch who calls himself Sombra. He usually has two or three other assholes who work with him on his jobs.”
Nodding, Jake asked her, “You can get me into the Toro Plaza without anyone noticing, can’t you?”
“If I want to, sí.”
Jake took hold of her thin hand. “I’m pretty certain I’m the one this ambush tonight is being planned for,” he told her. “I’d like, instead, to surprise Sombra.”
“And my father, too,” she said, laughing. “Yes, I can help you sneak in. But try not to kill my father—unless you absolutely have to.”
The curving plasglass walls of the vast dome that sheltered the Toro Plaza
had a multitude of profanity—in both Spanish and English—scrawled on them in dozens of shades of glopaint. There were all sorts of splatters and splashes as well—paint, beer, wine and blood. Up on the top of the abandoned dome pigeons and doves roosted and their droppings also decorated the walls. Hundreds of the birds were fluttering and cooing up there in the darkness now.
“We’re almost to the gate we want, señor.” Strella was leading him along the edge of the dome, her arm linked in his.
“They’re expecting me to arrive in about ten minutes.”
“But they’re not expecting you to turn the ambush around.” The girl laughed quietly.
“Do you have any idea who Sombra is working for?”
“No, I didn’t overhear anything about that.” Slowing, she let go of Jake. “Here is Gate X, an old service entrance.” Stopping, the girl pressed the palm of her right hand to the recog panel at the side of the wide plasglass door. “My father rigged this so it’ll let me and my stupid little brother in.”
Very quietly the door slid open.
Jake followed the girl into the Plaza. They were in a long, dim-lit corridor.
Strella ran silently ahead of him until she came to a black metal door marked TOROS/3. “We’ll go through this storeroom,” she whispered. “That’ll bring us close to where Sombra ought to be waiting for you.”
“Okay, fine.”
She touched her hand to the black door.
After a few seconds it slid away to the right. There was a large, high room, illuminated only by a few floor-level strips of light.
Standing aside, Strella nodded at the open doorway.
Jake was one step over the threshold when the girl gave him a surprisingly powerful shove in the back.
He went staggering forward, nearly losing his balance.
He spun around just in time to see the door snap shut on him.
“Well,” he observed, “this was a setup after all.”
23
JAKE NOTICED THE BULLS about ten seconds after he’d discovered that he no longer had his lazgun.
There were four of them, standing in a neat row down at the far end of the big storeroom. About three hundred feet of empty plaswood flooring separated them from Jake. Three of the robot bulls were a sleek, glistening black and the fourth was a bright scarlet.
“They’re dormant, turned off,” Jake said to himself after watching them for a few more seconds.
Keeping his eyes on the huge mechanical creatures anyway, he moved closer to the door. There was no way, he found, to open it from this side.
Jake next studied the walls. They were slick, made of tinted plaswood, without windows, shelves or anything to get a handhold on. The high ceiling was equally blank.
“Getting out of here’s going to be tough. Especially without my gun.”
Maybe he really was a little rusty after his stay up in the Freezer. He’d believed in Strella, let her convince him she was nothing more than a kid in danger. Not only had she lured him into a cage, she’d somehow managed to lift his lazgun en route.
“Could be there’s a way out of here down at the other end of ... Oops!”
The robot bulls were coming to life. The crimson one had given an angry snort, blackish smoke spewing out of his nostrils. His eyes were alive now, glowing a dazzling yellow, and with his right-front hoof he was pawing at the floor.
“Pretty obvious stuff,” commented Jake, pressing back against the unopenable door. “Black smoke, flashing eyes. But I guess they figured bullfight fans’d go for that.”
One of the black bulls began to move. His eyes glowed red, the smoke spewing from his nostrils was a milky white. Sparks shot up when his silvery hoof rasped at the flooring. He lowered his massive head, thick neck wrinkling, and turned to glare at Jake.
“Seems like,” said Jake, “somebody wants me to learn how to be a matador.”
A third robot bull was active. He began making deep roaring noises in his broad chest. Then he came toward Jake, in deliberate, mincing steps.
Jake scanned the walls again.
Not a damn thing to get a grip on, no way to climb up out of range. And nothing in the entire room to convert into a weapon.
The black bull made a nasty sound, came galloping right at Jake. His horns were made of stainless steel, the tips knife-sharp.
Waiting until the giant robot was almost on him, Jake dodged to his left.
The bull rushed by him and slammed into the wall, causing it to shudder.
“Maybe with some fancy footwork,” Jake reflected, “I can avoid these guys for a while. But ...
The crimson bull was now trotting his way.
Apparently the fourth robot bull was defunct. At least they hadn’t activated it yet. Maybe, though, they were simply saving it.
The third one was moving nearer.
Snorting out a great spume of smoke, the red bull charged Jake.
He spun suddenly, jumping back, and the bull went roaring by him with almost a foot of clearance.
Jake ran to the other side of the room. The first black bull was watching him again, about ready to make another run at him.
“Maybe I can maneuver them into crashing into each other.”
He stood still, wide-legged, trying to keep track of the actions of all three of the dangerous mechanisms.
The other black one came galloping suddenly for him.
Jake sprinted over to the opposite wall.
The bull missed him.
Jake pushed off the wall before the bull could get itself turned, then he ran straight at the crimson bull.
That one lowered its head, pawed the floor and charged.
Turning, Jake started running toward the other bull.
The red bull was getting closer behind him.
Just short of the black one, Jake dived to the floor and went rolling between its legs.
He hit a wall, got to his feet.
The red bull couldn’t pull up in time. It went smashing right into the black one. Its sharp metal horns stabbed into the black metal side. There came a sizzling, ratcheting sound.
Smoke came erupting out of the black bull’s side, and its eyes started flashing erratically.
Easing along the wall, Jake allowed himself a nod of satisfaction. “One down,” he muttered.
The two remaining bulls were both eyeing him. The surviving black one decided on another charge.
But after covering less than a third of the distance between them, it stopped dead. Its eyes clicked shut; it stood stiff and still.
The red one had also ceased to function.
A full minute passed. Then the door came whispering open.
“If you’re through playing bullfighter,” said Beth from the corridor, “let’s go.”
Jake frowned, then accepted the weapon Beth was holding out to him. It was his lazgun and he tucked it into his waistband. “How about the rest of them?” he asked her, nodding toward Strella.
The thin girl was sitting in the corridor, unconscious, slumped against the wall.
Beth held up three fingers. “There was a trio of them,” she said. “I stunned two, kept the third one conscious for you to have a chat with.”
Jake was looking down at Strella. “Hey, she’s not breathing.”
“I turned her off at their central control board—same time I shut down the bulls.”
He crouched beside the frail figure. “She’s an android?”
“Sure, couldn’t you tell?”
“I don’t have your knack.” Jake straightened up.
“C’mon this way.” Beth started walking along the wide corridor.
“How’d you find me?”
“If I tell you, you’ll probably get angry.”
“I won’t, no,” he promised. “But I’m curious.”
Smiling as they walked along the curving corridor, she said, “When you were leaving and I hugged you—well, it wasn’t just affection.”
He started feeling at his back. “You planted a
tracking bug on me?”
“I don’t think you’ll find it, Jake. It’s the size of a flyspeck,” Beth told him. “One I designed myself—I happened to bring a few along from the lab. It allowed me to track you, and hear everything that was going on, too. ‘Gracias, dear señor. Oh, you have saved me from a fate worse than death.’ Boy, Jake, how could you fall for such—”
“You had to have been there. She was very convincing.”
Beth glanced at him. “Maybe I shouldn’t have planted that thing on you, but I just didn’t like the sound of this meeting setup. Soon as you left, I took off in our skycar.”
Jake was silent for a few seconds. “No, that was a good idea,” he said eventually. “We’re partners, after all. I’ve got to keep that in mind from now on.”
Beth laughed. “You’re mellowing.”
“A brisk workout with a few bulls tends to do that to me.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get them deactivated sooner.”
“Listen, I think I was winning when you got here,” he said. “Another few minutes and—”
“You wouldn’t have beaten the fourth one. He’s rigged to breathe out flame.” Beth stopped at an open doorway. “In here.”
On the slick white floor at the far side of the room lay two men, both unconscious. One on his back, one on his stomach. Monitor screens ringed the walls, and at the room’s center was a complex control board. In front of it, tied in a plaschair, was Jake’s contact here in Cuidado.
“I guess,” said the fat Globo, “you’d like an explanation, huh, Jake?”
“That’d be nice.” Jake’s grin was not a warm one.
The fat man wiped at his perspiring forehead. “This was strictly a monetary thing, you understand,” he was explaining.
Jake was straddling a chair five feet from him. “Selling somebody out usually involves money. Go on.”
“Keep in mind that you and I were never close friends. So it isn’t as though I’m a Judas or—”
“What were you supposed to do?”
Globo gave his forehead another nervous swipe. “This is going to sound pretty awful to you.”
“Tell me anyway.”
The fat man mumbled something inaudible.
Beth was leaning against the wall, hands in the hip pockets of her trousers. “We didn’t catch that. Otra vez, por favor.”
TekWar Page 13
