Baen Books Free Stories 2017

by Baen Books

  I popped one of the sweets into my mouth. It melted like a dream. I ate the other two, savoring them for as long as possible, but all too soon, we finished off his winnings. The candy only reminded me of my hunger.

  “Got more?” I asked.

  “Nahya.” He didn’t sound happy.

  We could go to the Concourse to pinch some spice sticks. We’d have to walk up there, though, which would take a long time. If the cops caught us stealing food, they might put us in jail. I wasn’t hungry enough yet to go through all that trouble.

  To distract my thoughts, I said, “So. Dice. What play?”

  He brought out two dice, each an octahedron with a different number on each face, one through eight. “Play sum-rum.”

  I squinted at him. “Sum what?”

  Jak rolled the dice, throwing an eight and a two. “Add numbers. Get ten.” He offered the pieces to me. “Get more, you win. Drink rum. Get less or same, you lose. I get rum. Pass, and no one wins.”

  I wasn’t impressed. “We got no rum here, win or lose.”

  He laughed. “Yah. Go anyway.”

  I tossed the dice, rolling a six and a three, for a sum of nine. So I lost. “Lucky for you.”

  “Not luck,” Jak said. “I got ten. Only one third chance you win.”

  “How know that?”

  “Sixty-four ways to get any sum. Only twenty-one sums bigger than ten.” He grinned. “Odds not good for you.”

  “Huh.” I didn’t see how he came up with the numbers so fast, but it made sense when I thought about it. “Good think.”

  “Yah.” Jak faced off with me, his voice intent. “Someday, I’ll own the dice place.”

  “Whose?” I couldn’t see anyone just giving him their gambling den.

  “Mine!” He smacked his palms together. “Big den. Casino. The biggest.”

  I squinted at him. “Why? No one here can gamble that big.”

  “Not here, no.” He motioned upward. “They can. Above-city slicks.”

  That made no sense. The above-city had zero interest in us, which was how we liked it. “Never work.”

  “Will work.” His gaze never wavered. “Take from slicks and use for us. Hire from here. Pay in food, whatever people need. Even credit.”

  “Not credit.” I didn’t know what to make of this idea. I’d never really understood the credits people in the above-city used to define their wealth. “Can’t see it. Can’t eat it.”

  “Got to ken credit to ken above-city slicks.” Jak’s smile faded. “Got to read, too, for me to ken them. Teach me words, Bhaajo.”

  I blinked. He always teased me for stealing time on the above-city meshes so I could learn to read and write. Not that I did it particularly well. Few of us bothered with such a useless skill. It didn’t teach you to fight better. Well, maybe it could help. I learned things searching through the city meshes. You could join something called the army and get paid to fight. I knew of no one in the Undercity who had actually done it, though. I couldn’t imagine anyone leaving our way of life for the bizarre culture of the above-city. Besides, it looked as if you could get killed in the army just as easily as here. In fact, it might be more dangerous there; we didn’t fight to kill, only to keep what was ours. We didn’t want our foes to die, because then we wouldn’t have anyone to compete against.

  Right now, though, I would settle for dinner. I could no longer ignore the ache of hunger that had taken over my body. How long since my last real meal? Twenty hours? Thirty? I didn’t know.

  I grabbed my clothes. “Need to eat.”

  “Yah.” Jak started to dress as well. “Steak.”

  “Got no steak.” We’d be lucky to filch dried fruit.

  “Talk to Kajada. Get steak.”

  “Like hell.” I couldn’t run dope for Dig’s mother, not even knowing that in return, she’d give us a meal from her stores, whatever we wanted. She and the Vakaar boss were the only ones with more than enough food.

  “No punker runs,” I said. “Never.”

  Jak just nodded, his gaze downcast. We’d lost friends to the garbage Jadix Kajada peddled. He didn’t like it any more than me or Dig, but he was always hungry now, growing fast. He craved meat.

  “Talk to Dig,” I offered. Maybe she could sneak us into her mother’s storerooms so we could pinch dinner without Jadix knowing.

  Jak’s grin came back. “Yah, Dig.” He scooped up his dice.

  We left the grotto and headed back to the main canal of our territory.

  “The above-city,” I said after a while. “Slicks there. Want to bust cartels.”

  He shrugged. “Never catch cartels.”

  Probably. Dig’s mother had cyber-riders working for her, hiding her operation from the above-city. Undercity riders could beat anything, even the glossy technology in the City of Cries.

  “You start casino,” I said. “You got to hide, too.”

  “Got me a cyber-wizard,” Jak said.

  I knew he meant Gourd, but Gourd had chosen to be a ganger, not a rider. “He doesn’t want.”

  Jak’s smile faded. “This is truth. Don’t got a casino, anyway.”

  Not now. I knew Jak, though. If he wanted his casino, he’d make it happen even if it meant breaking every law in Cries.

  Jak and I had met when we were three years old. Dig introduced us. Jak had no family, so she looked after him, keeping him away from the police nets. Every now and then the cops rounded up any dust rats they found sneaking out of the aqueducts and dumped them in the orphanage. It wasn’t how I ended up there; someone had left me at its door when I was only a few hours old, with a note saying my mother died giving me birth to me in the Undercity. That’s how I knew the City of Cries did actually exist; I’d spent the first three years of my life there, though I remembered almost nothing except that I’d hated it. The orphanage wasn’t a shining tower in a magical place; it felt cold and sterile. When Dig showed up, with her confident walk, five years old and so wise about the world, she seemed like a goddess. She even let me follow her around. Said she liked my fighting spirit.

  Gods only know how a five-year-old could see spirit in a three-year-old, but then, Dig was no ordinary kid. She’d spent her short life learning to survive, pushed by her mother to take care of herself since the day she took her first step. She did whatever Jadix wanted because at that age you’d follow your parent in anything, if you were lucky enough to have one. When Dig got trapped at the orphanage, her mother didn’t even bother to claim her. She sent a drug punker to tell Dig she had to get back on her own. Dig figured out how in a few days, with maps the punker gave her. She took me with her, using a sewer system under the orphanage. We crawled through pipes until we reached the aqueducts. She ran to her mother, and Jadix told her she’d done a good job. That was it. No joy in seeing her, nothing. Then Jadix went back to running her cartel, ignoring her daughter just like always. Dig never showed her hurt, but even at my young age, I could tell she wanted to cry.

  Maybe Jadix meant to harden Dig into a crime boss who could take over the cartel. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Dig never forgave her. By the time Dig was ten, her rebellion had come on full force. She already led our fledgling dust gang, so she decided to live with me, Jak, and Gourd. Ketris and Byte looked after us in those years, but everyone saw the leader in Dig. Soon she was laying claim to our territory, looking after us all, giving us the care she craved from Jadix.

  We became her family.

  II

  Dust Fighters

  “Here,” Dig muttered.

  I followed her voice, aware of Jak at my side as we crept through the dark. We didn’t need to see; we knew every step of these canals. Passages networked the Undercity. Living here was an exercise in learning how to sense spaces you couldn’t see.

  A light flared. After the blackness, it was painfully bright, but it was only a pen-tip Dig carried. As our eyes adjusted, the light went from a blaze to a dim glow. Dig lifted the pen-tip, revealing the cave we’d entered. Boxes fill
ed it, cargo crates and other containers.

  “We take,” Dig said.

  “Jadix not know?” Jak asked.

  “Not take much,” Dig told him. “Won’t notice.”

  We explored the containers. I loaded my pack with dried fruit, a sack of grain, and canned food. Jak stuffed his with fresh vegetables and steak. Dig took soups and sandwich fixings, even a few sauces. We used stealth moves, staying as silent as we could manage. You could get killed for stealing from the cartels. We could argue Dig wasn’t pinching from her own mother, but given how she and Jadix got along—or didn’t—we couldn’t take chances, besides which, if someone didn’t recognize Dig, they might just shoot us.

  Dig hefted her pack over her shoulder. “Full,” she said in a low voice.

  “Yah.” Jak closed his pack.

  “We go,” I agreed. I couldn’t carry any more.

  Dig turned out her light and we soft-footed it toward the entrance of the cave. We were almost free and safe. Just a few more steps—

  Light flared everywhere, coming from harsh lamps in the ceiling.

  “Shit!” Dig broke into a run. “Go!”

  We sprinted forward—and a trio of drug punkers stepped into view, blocking our way, two women and a man, all in their twenties, with tats covering their hardened biceps. One woman had a long scar from her ear to her chin. The man had a series of criss-crossing scars on his lower arms, a cartel affiliation maybe, or else some monster from Vakaar cartel had tortured him.

  We froze, three adolescent kids facing three giants. The scarred woman and the man had both drawn their daggers, their blades glittering in the harsh light. The third woman held a carbine, probably a military weapon she’d traded for on the black market.

  “Got trouble,” the woman with the scar told us. She tossed her dagger in the air, sending it spinning, and easily caught the handle. I had a shorter knife sheathed on my belt, but I made no attempt to draw the blade. I valued my life too much.

  “So,” a gravelly voice said. “My own jan pinches my food.” A woman stepped out from behind the trio, taller, huskier, and more scarred than any of them. She looked old to me, her face weathered, with deeply etched lines. She was old, in her early thirties, terrifyingly so, as if life had ground her into something inhuman. She wore black trousers and a muscle shirt torn at the waist, revealing rock-hard abs. Her arms, all muscle, were bigger around than my legs. She could break any of us in two.

  Dig’s gaze burned with defiance. “Got food, yah.”

  Jadix approached her daughter. Close up, the resemblance was undeniable; at seventeen, Dig was a youthful version of Jadix, still full of spirit. Jadix walked around the three of us, taking her time. I stood frozen, wondering if I’d signed my death warrant. We should have gone to the Concourse. We couldn’t have pinched anything as good up there, but so what? As long as we hadn’t stolen too much, the worst we’d have suffered was having the cops catch us. They’d throw us back into the Undercity or make us spend the night in a Cries jail, but we’d still be alive.

  Jadix came in front of us and stood with her fisted hands on her hips. “Bad move, Daughter.”

  Ho! Jadix never called Dig her daughter. She said “jan” instead. Everyone did. It was why people called me Bhaajan. The daughter of Bhaaj: that was what the note said that my unknown rescuers had left with me at the orphanage. Jadix only said “daughter” when she was royally pissed.

  Dig met her mother’s gaze, but kept her silence.

  Jadix looked around at us. “Got to pay for food.”

  Pah. She knew we had nothing to give her.

  “Pay how?” Jak asked.

  She considered him for too long, looking him up and down real slow. He just raised his eyebrows at her. Maybe he didn’t care how she stared, but I was ready to throttle her neck.

  “Can think of ways for you,” Jadix told him.

  “Keep hands off,” I ground out.

  Jadix glanced at me. “Eh, Bhaaj. You ready to blow holes in the sky?”

  Right. She knew I’d never seen a sky. “Fuck you,” I said. I was worse than stupid today.

  “You, no.” She laughed, a harsh sound. “Him, maybe.”

  “Not interested,” Jak said.

  “Hmm.” She didn’t sound as if she cared a whit about his consent.

  I stood with my fists clenched at my sides, straining to hold back. Gods, I wanted to bash her face. She was toying with us, enjoying herself while we sweated. If I attacked her, though, this got more serious, maybe even deadly. She would never let such a blatant challenge go unpunished. I held back, but it took every bit of self-control I possessed.

  “We pay,” Dig told her mother, intervening before Jadix pushed me further. “Do punker runs.”

  Jadix went over to her daughter. “Yah.” Her voice sounded like ice. “All of you.”

  Damn it! I refused to run drugs. Dig had chosen the only smart answer, giving Jadix what she wanted. Being rock-headed instead of smart, I said, “Not do!”

  Dig looked ready to thump me upside the head. All we had to do was agree to a few drug runs and Jadix would let us go. Dig jerked her chin in that way she did when she wanted me to shut up.

  I ignored her. “No hack running,” I told Jadix.

  “Got a mouth on you, girl.” Jadix tilted her head at Jak. “You take run or I take him.”

  “Nahya.” I clenched my fists so hard, the fingernails cut into my skin. “He stays with me.”

  Dig spoke quickly. “Not need them. I do their runs, too.”

  Jadix snorted at her. “Quit protecting them.”

  “Got better idea,” Jak said in his duskiest voice.

  What the hell? We turned to him. Jak spoke to Jadix as if they were just two dusters hanging out in the canals. “Roll dice. Ten sum-rums. I win, I leave, payment done. You win, I stay, pay how you want.”

  “Nahya!” I had no intention of letting Jak stay with anyone, especially not a crime boss who would do gods only knew what to my lover, my lover. I stepped forward. Jadix didn’t see because she was frowning at Jak, but he saw me behind her and shook his head, just the barest motion, urging me to stay put.

  “Leave him alone.” Dig walked toward her mother.

  Jadix swung around to her. “Shut up and stay put, or my punkers shoot your gang.”

  Dig stopped, but she looked ready to incinerate Jadix with her furious gaze. Her mother knew how to press her buttons, using Dig’s loyalty to us against her.

  Jadix glanced to Jak. “Got no dice.”

  “Here.” Jak pulled out his dice and gave them to her. “Fair.”

  Jadix snorted. “Yah, sure.” She motioned to the trio of guards watching us. The woman with the carbine came over to her.

  Jadix handed her the dice. “They a cheat?”

  The guard flicked a panel on her gauntlet and held the dice over it, turning the small octahedrons this way and that. Lights glittered on the panel. After a moment, she said, “Fair.”

  “Get crate,” Jadix said.

  Her punkers brought over a crate that stood at chest height, forming a flat surface where Jak and Jadix could throw dice. Jadix rolled first, getting a two and a three. “Pass,” she said.

  That was it for round one. Neither of them had won.

  Jak rolled the dice, getting six and a four, which gave him a ten for round two. “Go.”

  Since Jak hadn’t passed, Jadix had to roll. She got a four and a five, for a sum of nine. Hah! She lost round two. She showed no reaction, just handed the dice back to Jak.

  So they went, alternating turns. Jak’s forehead furrowed with his concentration as he did numbers in his head. In the end, he won four rounds, Jadix won two, and they passed on the rest. I exhaled, closing my eyes with relief, then snapped them open. Just because Jadix agreed to the bargain didn’t mean she’d keep her word. We waited to see what she would do.

  Jadix handed him the dice. “Go on. Get out.” She motioned at his pack. “You keep. This time. I catch you pinching my
food again, I let my punkers work you the hell over. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Jak said.

  Jadix glanced at Dig. “Come back tonight. For run.”

  Dig nodded, her posture rigid.

  “Go on,” Jadix told her. She motioned to Jak. “Both of you. Get out.”

  “Bhaaj comes with,” Dig said.

  “Bhaaj stays,” Jadix told her.

  Dig lifted her chin. “Bhaaj my duster. Not leave without.”

  “I stay,” I told Dig. “Figure out pay.” I had no idea if I could find a way to pay Jadix without doing a drug run, but I didn’t want Dig caught in the middle again. Always Jadix used me against her.

  “You sure?” Dig asked me.

  I made myself nod with confidence. “Sure. See after.”

  “Bhaaj,” Jak said.

  “Go!” I told them. “Stop bothering me.”

  Neither seemed fooled by my bravado, but they couldn’t refuse without making me look bad. So they left, easing out past the guards. The punkers watched with impassive faces, but I got the feeling they enjoyed seeing Jadix play with us. Screw them.

  “So.” Jadix walked over to me. “Pinch my food, don’t pay. No good, Bhaaj.”

  “Pay some other way,” I said, ever hopeful.

  “How?” she demanded. “Got nothing.”

  That pretty much summed up my life. I owned nothing except a few useless trinkets with sentimental value. I did have a skill, though. “Good fight,” I told her. I could best even Dig, which wasn’t a claim many people could make.

  Jadix waved her hand in dismissal. “Little jan can’t fight worth shit.”

  Little? I was almost her height. I crossed my arms, making my muscles bulge, and scowled. “Fight you.”

  “Me?” She actually laughed. “You die, then. Dig not forgive.”

  She cared what Dig thought? I hadn’t expected that. She was right, though. If Jadix killed me, Dig would never forgive her. Mother and daughter would go to war.

  Jadix indicated the guard with the scarred face. “Fight Mace. Fists only.”

  Well, shit. The towering Mace looked like she could smash me into flat cakes. But I’d opened my big mouth, so now I had to put up my fists.