Perhaps I was not a good man. As Becky continually pointed out, my job was to protect pedophiles from their would-be assassins. Not the tiniest fragment of me felt good about it. If I could kill them all with impunity, I would, and sleep well for every night to come. But those men had the power to kill with impunity, not me, and my life was a constant struggle to survive them. I was not about to throw everything away in a fight against an enemy with so many heads it would be perpetual even if they didn't grow back. But I understood that mine was not the only philosophy.
Becky was staring at me as if I was about to bar her from my presence, fear clouding her beautiful eyes.
"I told you before I would never hold it against you for doing what you think is right," I said, "and I meant it. You couldn't know what she was capable of."
But I could. Ruby was a monster. Nothing to do with her deformity. That was probably the most human part of her. She had been transformed by the degradation of foul men just as surely as Lisbold and Rake were victims of their circumstances. There was nothing left in her now but hatred. Not even her feelings for Hobb were real. She made no attempt to protect him, as someone who loved him might, but only to destroy those she deemed responsible for his death. Vengeance was all she knew, and it was no boon to allow her to persist.
"So what do we do now?" Becky asked.
I offered her a tortured smile. "You don't do anything."
Forgive. Never trust.
"I can't take the risk that you are still informing on us. Everything I said was true, but keeping you in this investigation would endanger the lives of the officers involved, and I can't have that."
Our relationship could never return to what it was. I would always be suspicious of her motives, second guessing her every decision; silently challenging her every word.
Becky stared out the window at the red brick buildings that made such a change from the gray concrete structures that filled The Kaerosh. "I understand."
"I'll have to place you under guard until we've apprehended Ruby."
She nodded at the glass as if communicating with someone in the caapark below.
"But there won't be any charges. If you wish, you may continue as my assistant once this is over, and it is my greatest desire that you do."
She nodded again, slower than the first time. "And what about..." She trailed off, but found her tongue again. "I realized something in that swamp, Simon. The thought that I'd lost you." She swallowed, struggling with the expression. "What I mean is, our differences are unimportant. I never wanted to be dependent again, but over the last few months... I don't think a person has a choice." As she finished, she turned to look at me, her face a mess of mud and dribbled makeup, the dark rings under her eyes consuming her cheeks.
I turned away from her, full of acid compassion. A part of me rejoiced, surprised that her feelings were not limited to drunken sex; that despite my obvious inferiority, she actually liked me. But I was not so moved as to forget. Just seeing her again brought everything back like an avalanche. I still wanted her, but it was tainted by what she had done, morphed into something infinitely destructive. My trust, so recently given, had been betrayed, and it could never be regained.
I had set aside my suspicions because they were baseless; the product of my own internal breaks. Now they had foundation, the same as with my mother. She could promise that she wouldn't leave me, but words were wind. No matter how much I wanted Becky, I could not endure that relationship again.
"For now, things would be simpler if we stayed colleagues." I could not even bring myself to say friends, though I ached to do so.
She pulled herself away from me, lining her puffy skin with steel. "You should get moving if you hope to get to the baths before Ruby."
I nodded. "Did you bring my clothes?"
She pulled a few crumpled items out of the bag she had dumped at the bedside, including a replacement for my destroyed tablet. "These were all I could find, but they're all yours so they should fit. The tablet is already registered to you." Laying them in my hands, she said, "You won't get anyone to help, certainly no one willing to sit around keeping me under guard while Hayson is missing."
I'd forgotten Hayson, but I didn't have time to think about that now. He could be in hiding, captured, or killed by Loshe's men. His best hope lay with all of ours in Loshe being killed as soon as possible. "You'll have to sit in the holding cells for a few hours then."
"Let me help. Don't you understand that if she kills you now because you couldn't trust me, then it's my fault? Sikes and I will have your back. It'll be safer."
Every word of persuasion made me trust her less. I felt angry that she should think me so pliable. "Enough. I've made up my mind. We can't take the risk."
She wiped away a tear before it could form, her cool detachment, once so prominent, now absent from her features. "I can help you get her; let me prove it to you."
I shook my head. "I'm going to need you to hand me your tablet."
She handed it over in silence, and the two of us retrieved Sikes from the entrance. The instant I stepped outside, my shoulder wound burned in the cold like a knife peeling down the skin.
Sikes vehemently disagreed with my decision to shut Becky in an interrogation room, but she didn't say a word as my tablet clicked the lock. She just sat down and stared at the microphone in front of her while Sikes was so disgusted he barely looked at me. He wrote a note explaining not to let her out, and then between us we filled the boot with guns. It was perhaps overload for a deformed girl with one good hand, but my recent experiences attested that it was better to have guns and not need them, than need them and not have them. Underestimating Ruby had devastating consequences.
I had no reservations about manipulating Ruby to kill Loshe. My only fear was that it might not be sufficient. When Loshe died, his successor could resume the task of trying to kill me as soon as he settled in, and if I caught or killed Ruby as I intended, then there would be no one to kill the next one.
There was only one way around it that I could see. To prevent someone listening in, I made Sikes stop at a public network station. Dodgy places. Outwardly, they were for people too poor to own tablets or network screens, but in reality they survived by catering to people who didn't wish to have their activities linked to their profiles or tablet numbers.
The good ones ran their screens through several proxy locations which changed as quickly as the SP could find them, forcing Clazran's recent change in policy from monitoring to physically shutting them down. AI Deny's one was the last one in Las Hek.
Liegon's end was secure, but my tablet most definitely wasn't. She could have just given me an ether profile like the goblin, but the faithful had never been big fans of the ether. If her God or Gods had intended us to live in some other world then that would have been the one they created. With Liegon's additional hatred of mechs, it seemed likely that she wasn't one for jacking-in.
Immediately behind the door was a black curtain obstructing it from opening. The same plastic covered the windows, walls, and the boards between cells, making the partitioning look like cave structures. Night lights dotted across the ceiling with seeming randomness like luminescent bugs and offering little more light. Only the network screens grappled against the darkness.
At the entrance a man sat behind a cream desk, the only two objects in sight not plastered in black plastic.
He showed me to a soundproof booth and left me as I dialed Liegon's number.
"What can I do for you?" she said icily.
"Is Benrick still alive?" Asking for her help could backfire if she blamed me for his death.
There was a moment of silence during a heavy breath. "He's hanging on, though not for much longer."
"I want to make you a deal."
"This deal include the name of the killer?"
"Better. I will apprehend him today if everything works out, but I need something from you before I do."
"Name it." Her voice was iron, hiding all
emotion.
"A high ranking SP agent is going to die, and I need you to get me his job."
Silence.
"It shouldn't be difficult. People will understand your gratitude to me for exonerating you from Kenrey's murder, and it will not be hard to argue my qualifications."
"Which agent?"
"I can't tell you that, but if he turns out to be a personal friend of yours, then feel free to renege on the deal and come after me."
Liegon let out a sharp laugh. "I will, don't you worry about that." Her voice desiccated. "You get this person who's trying to frame me for murder, and you'll have the job. We can even continue to do business."
It was done. Loshe's death now offered me more prolonged safety as long as Pressen hadn't already killed me. I picked up the headset next to the network screen and gave it a whiff. I'd smelled worse. The jacked were not renowned for great hygiene. I plugged the lead into the base of my neck and slipped the goggles over my eyes, cutting off my every sensation from Cos.
I was now in the ether. I typed in my password using eye movements and selected my character. An elf healer specializing in zoocasty. I was still in my secret layer built into the side of the Arcadaen Cliffs, hidden using pretty much the only stealth enchantment I knew. It was by no means the Arcaniath Fort with challengers lining up to attempt to break in, but I had several traps, not to mention a host of guard animals for anyone who tried. I was moderately certain that any player below level 50 would be seen off by the bombardment even in my absence. I was, after all, a pirate, and my little cave contained enough spoils to make it worth breaking into if someone had enough strength to take what was mine.
Not since Vins had entered the basement had I felt the sand run up the side of my sandals, burning the sides of my feet with the hot grains. Dae Daniel Sun was in the wind as far as anyone knew, and no doubt if I ever had time to re-join my crew I would have to challenge some new captain for my old spot.
Sadly the goblin took me nowhere near the water. He dwelt inland in the goblin village of Snakebottom.
I summoned Simmowitz, my ostrich, and jumped on her back. One facet of the ether I had never put the required energy into obtaining was teleportation. There was always something more useful as a pirate in the middle of the ocean, but whenever I had to travel away from the sea on Simmowitz it meant the journey took six or seven times as long.
The long necked old-earth creature bowed before she began to run. Her long powerful legs beat against the ground like the electro armor of the mech infantry. It was not a comfy way to travel, smacking me up and down with every step, but when he got going the sparse shrubbery began to blur with the sand, smudging green and yellow like a pre-ripe banana.
I crossed the Lacari desert in minutes, and Simmowitz began to slow as we reached Oasis City. Hundreds of mottled huts and brick taverns scattered either side of the Calawi River. Fields of green ran side by side along the fertile stretch, just as they had on old-earth. Sometimes I wished I had seen Old-Earth before they started stacking farms. It must have looked like a completely different place; a series of living rectangles spreading as far as the eye could see.
At the port, I boarded an air ship which would take me cross-continent. It didn't look very different from my own ship, the Snodgrass, except instead of sails she had a balloon full of hot air rising from her middle, and instead of a rudder she had a rotatable fan like a hovercraft. The owner was a human named Dorcas who used to be a member of my crew. He always gave me free passage and a cabin whenever I needed it and never asked for anything in return.
I didn't want a cabin though. Very shortly I might be dead. If any one of a hundred things went wrong with Pressen, Ruby, Loshe, or Liegon then this might be my last journey. I stood at the edge and watched the ground disappear beneath us. People became dots and clouds became fog, cold to the touch, but surprisingly dry.
I wasn't the only passenger. Men, women, and children of all races strolled across the deck, though few of them joined me at the very edge. As we reached altitude, the airship shot forwards spurred by Dorcas' magic. Whatever enchantment he used made Simmowitz a tortoise on its back by comparison. We would be across the Pacifix Ocean in less time than it took for a slider to cross a city.
Dorcas came and stood next to me, both hands gripped on the rails. The cold felt like hail on the skin at this altitude, and Dorcas' arms were bare, his thick black hair making the skin beneath it appear a bloodless white. "I gotta job comin' up Cappin, which looks to be givin' a solid payoff. I'd be willin' to cut you and a few of the boys in if you were wantin' that?"
I stared out into the gray mist. It didn't matter what I wanted. Over the past five cycles I had made a home here, but that was over now. I had a real life again, a real job, and if I wasn't careful a real death. "Aye Dorcas, I would like that, but I can't." It was easier to stay in character. When I was in this body, I was Dae Daniel Sun, and no amount of ardent journalists, serial killers or SP pedophiles were going to stop me from acting like it. "I'm gonna be away for a while might be."
"You been away for a while already, far as I'm hearin'."
I nodded. "Aye, I've got business that needs doin' across the Liskian Sea."
I didn't say the Vytherin Sea, past the ruins of old Gascani. So many people were killed trying to bring back the ancient artifacts buried there by the earthquake that it had become code for leaving the ether. Stating that you were going there was a license for someone to break into your layer and steal everything they could find. I wasn't coming back, but I had no intention of losing everything I'd acquired over five cycles.
"Anythin' you'd be needin' help with, Cappin?"
I put a hand on Dorcas' shoulder. A gesture that was awkward for my real body, but in the ether I was a tall, long eared elf, the physical equal of any mage, rogue, or healer. "Not this time. Yu know I'd cut you in if there was space."
His bulbous nose scrunched, and I knew he didn't believe me. "Aye, Cappin, you were always good to me so I ain't gonna start complainin' now."
The airship landed in Rossborrough, just outside goblin territory. Snakebottom was not too far in and the road was not too dangerous. There were powder mines all over the floor beyond the spiked fences, as only the goblin special power made them visible, but they provided little problem to me. Even if they exploded on me, it would take five or six in a row to kill me, and I had plenty of ways of preventing that. I summoned a swarm of spiders that would run in front of me, followed by Simmowitz.
Several minutes and thousands of dead spiders later, I was in Snakebottom. Goblins weren't big on brick, or even mottle, so Snakebottom was a series of enormous mole hills with doors and windows. Each of them was connected to a bassoom tree whose roots formed the cement that kept the huts standing even in the rain.
There were no goblins about, so I walked up to the far hut unmolested and went in.
The goblin, the one I came to talk to, sat on a little throne not too large for Simon Nidess. Around him four or five other goblins loitered. One of the urine colored creatures was Ling Eschea, the big eyed beauty, but I had no idea which one. Some of them were probably AI, capable of guarding the den while the human characters slept or did other things, but they were all as ugly as each other. Although mostly yellow, their skin would frequently break away into grays and browns like moles on human skin, but larger and more irregular. The result was a creature that looked somewhere between a lichen covered statue and a moldy cheese.
"Stop there, elf. What are you doing in my layer?"
Several of his minions shuffled forward brandishing swords or arakhs, bows or clubs. There was only one reason I could think of for choosing the goblin race, and that's because everyone else largely ignored them. It was the safest race to be if you wanted your character to persist for a long time without bothering to increase their level. They fell victim to the occasional anti-goblin crusade, but they had little worth stealing, and goblin territory wasn't rich in anything except powder mines. Likely, I could kill
all of these creatures with a few choice spells, but what would it gain me? A mud hut and a few dis weapons.
"It's Simon Nidess, and I've come to make your deal."
The goblin got off his throne laughing. "I knew it was you in the body of that tall elf. What deal do you think I'm willing to offer you?"
"You stop Pressen from publishing his findings, and I do you a favor in return. I expect you've already got one picked out."
The goblin stroked his hairless chin, pretending to ponder the moral repercussions. "Your mother wouldn't like that. She was quite specific about your involvement in our operation. Might be she'd kill me if she were still alive."
"She isn't, and if you don't stop Pressen fast then neither will I be."
He nodded. "True, but even goblins should keep their word. The KFF and Simon Nidess are supposed to be separate. She made me swear on me own sporn."
He was playing with me. Words and promises meant as much to him as my mother did when he sent her on the mission that left her standing in front of an 820X sentry turret with nothing but leather padding to protect her. "You should have thought about that before you helped me steal the evidence in the first place," I said.
His smile faltered. "Sariah was KFF. You come to me with a plan to get her out of prison, you think I'm gonna turn it down?"
I could have summoned a swarm of dagger flies or taken out my elven sword and cut him in two for that. All that mattered to this little pile of vomit was power. I remembered when I'd come for help with Sariah. He'd come up with every excuse in Cos before he finally agreed. There was no gain in it for him. Sariah was a low level agent, and he was risking higher ones to set her free. I'd had to offer him more and more besides to get his help.
"Do we have a deal or not?" I said.
The goblin outstretched his arm, grinning his shark teeth at me. "Done."
I looked at the slimy yellow hand proffered like a moldy vegetable with the skin peeling. Twice I had rejected asking Hayson for help because it was an act of desperation. But what was this? There was no agreement more desperate or one sided than the blank check. I could trust that these men were not going to sell me out to the SP, but that meant little when they could force me to do something that might result just as quickly in my death.
The Iron Swamp Page 32
