I hope he’s fucking dead, Reiji thought as his shovel his something other than sand. He gave it another good blow with the shovel, hoping it was John’s hand or something equally sensitive, before he knelt and brushed away the sand. It was the fabric of one of the shelters.
“Over here,” Reiji stood and called back to the others, waving them over.
More men swarmed to the spot and began working their shovels. More than a few repeating Reiji’s assault on what they hoped was a part of the missing man.
“’Bout fucking time,” was the common sentiment.
In a quarter of an hour the entirety of the shelter was unearthed. At least what remained of it. The sand formed in crimson clumps close to the shelter, spreading from beneath where it had been flattened by a large rock falling from the cliff.
Looks like the fucker got what he deserved, a few men exclaimed as Gavin arrived to inspect the find. The strange mechanical horse walked along behind him, like a dog might, but still it never actually touched the ground. Its eyes swiveled within the socket before coming to rest on John’ remains.
Gavin looked disinterestedly upon the smashed shelter and the blood pooled around it, eating a green apple that crunched loudly with eat bite. The man stared at the carnage as he ate the apple, saying nothing as he did so. Finally when nothing but the core remained, he tossed it atop the ruined shelter.
As he lit a cigarette, he began to whistle. He looked at the bloody mess, taking a few long drags as he did so.
“Give the man a proper burial,” he finally said, finishing the cigarette in what Reiji thought might just be record time.
Gavin fished another cigarette out of one of the pockets on his jacket and lit it. Reiji noticed that the man hadn’t even broken a sweat. Air-conditioned clothing, he guessed. If Reiji had been told that they’d be fucking about in the desert for days on end, he’d have purchased some as well before leaving.
Of course going out in public might have resulted in someone collecting his bounty. So he’d just have to make do with the supplies he’d brought.
The others moved to begin shoveling the sand back onto John’s remains. When the fist shovelful of sand landed against the demolished shelter, Gavin raised his hand.
“That’s enough.”
They spent the rest of the day in their tents, playing cards and passing around a washing-wand owned by one of the men in the group. Those who wanted it, and who could afford the asked for price, happily stripped down in the intense sun and moved the wand over themselves.
It produced a stream of ionized gas from the atmosphere that performed as well as a liquid bath in removing sweat and grime from the skin. The peculiar smell of the vaporized components lingered around the camp in the stagnant air for a while afterward. Like someone had huffed a great deal of ozone and then farted it out all at once.
Reiji would have liked nothing more than a nice bath of ice cold water at that moment, but he passed on the washing-wand. A combination of his dislike of the sensation of the wand’s action, the smell of the action, and his staunch refusal to pay for such a thing. He looked at the man who had brought the wand.
Marcus was the man’s name, if he recalled correctly. If Reiji wanted to use it badly enough, he’d take it from the man and dare anyone to try and stop him. The sunburn was putting him in a bad mood. Another few hours out there in the desert without any notion of what they were supposed to be doing, and he might start collecting heads.
He spent the rest of the day alone in a tent while the others moved about in the shade of the cliff, leaving a few feet between themselves and the already stinking remains of John the story-telling rapist.
As the sun began to set, the air cooled, and Gavin emerged from his own tent, flanked by Varg and Virgil, to once more address his hired band of merry men. The prophet emerging from solitude to address his desert warriors.
They gravitated towards him as if they expected something. Reiji emerged as well to hear what would be said. Once the man was sure he had everyone’s attention, he began.
“Well, it looks like the time has come to tell you all exactly what it is we’re doing out here.” Enthusiastic chatter followed his proclamation. “I’m sure most of you have noticed that this group is composed of a very… particular type of person.”
There was no denying that, Reiji thought. He’d already recognized a few of the other men as bounty collectors as well. If he didn’t know them personally, he’d recognized them by their reputations. Those he didn’t know all seemed to be cut from the same cloth.
Mercenaries, assassins, and hitmen. They never said as much, but he recognized them when he saw them. The way they stood, the way they moved, the way they carried their weapons. Even their choice of weapons gave them away. There was no way Gavin had put this group together for any peaceful endeavor.
The ever present cigarette appeared from one of Gavin’s pockets once more and he lit it before continuing.
“You may think that there is violence soon at hand.” He inhaled deeply and blew out a cloud of smoke. “And you’d be correct.” Another large drag from the cigarette and almost half of it was gone.
“I’ll begin by saying that I’m a well-connected man. As such, lots of interesting information passes through my hands.” He held those same hands up for all to see. “Some of it is useless despite being interesting. Who’s fucking who in the capitol. Shit like that.” Gavin made a fluttering gesture with his left hand. “And some of it…some of it… is so valuable that it cannot be passed on. It demands action. That you stand up and seize it.” He clenched his right hand into a fist.
“And that is why we are standing here in the middle of the fucking desert, next to some dead asshole who had the sheer audacity to ruin the sand-storm shelter I so generously provided him with.” Gavin glared over at the remains of John and his shelter, anger showing plainly in his eyes for all to see before it slipped back behind the mask of his face.
“One of my sources in Cent-Com tells me that something has been found in the desert, at the very location we are traveling to. Something from the days before Lexington was left behind.” That raised more than a few eyebrows among the gathered men.
As tech became more and more scarce by the day, fortunes were made on finding caches of seemingly simple things left over from when the planet was part of a legitimate trade federation and off-world goods flowed freely to Lexington. If he hadn’t had every man’s undivided attention before, Gavin had it now.
“Something that is valuable enough to send an entire regiment of Cent-Sec out here into the middle of nowhere to secure it.”
Men looked at each other and a few spoke in low voices. Reiji couldn’t understand most of what was being said, but the general consensus seemed to be that they were far too few to fight a regiment of policemen playing at soldier. He was inclined to agree with them.
“And now I supposed you are all wondering how we are going to fight so many men. The answer is that we are not. They won’t be arriving for a few more days, and despite our time lost waiting out the storm last night, we will still get there before they do.”
The looks of relief showing on the faces of several men were almost comical in Reiji’s estimation. He felt some small amount of relief himself, but these men looked as if they had just been told that strange lump on their balls was, in fact, not going to kill them.
“But the location has been secured by an advanced team of scouts. A dozen or so men that unfortunately could not be bought and would not abandon their posts. And so here we are. The finest killers I could assemble on my meager budget. Trudging through the desert to strike in the middle of the night, and kill these Cent-Sec scouts. And take what they have found.”
“As for our off-roading, well that was necessary to avoid detection. If we had taken a more direct route, or a mechanized route, they’d have spotted us coming days ahead of time and simply locked the place up until their friends arrived.”
Genuine enthusiasm seemed to rippl
e through the assembled men. No longer just hired muscle or head collectors, but now, actual warriors. Reiji did not share their enthusiasm.
It all sounded like just another job to him, but with much higher odds of being killed. Cent-Sec was full of rank amateurs. Little more than boys who could barely hold a blade without their arms shaking. But not all of them were weak. Among their elite units, there were men who were legitimate killers.
Hard-asses with good blades and armor, and the knowledge and training to put them to use. The kind of men who became Cent-Sec scouts.
Though their power was fading, Cent-Com hadn’t remained in control for decades on end by being weak. If they were going to do this, and get away with it, they would have to erase all evidence of their ever having been there.
“By virtue of your talents, I have selected each of you. And by virtue of my intellect and grand-vision of things to come, we are all going to become very rich.” Gavin finished speaking and flicked his still lit cigarette back over his shoulder, as if to emphasize the point.
Cigarettes weren’t cheap on Lexington by any stretch. That the man could just throw one away without finishing it either spoke of his already large wealth or his confidence in his mission.
“And what exactly is it that we’re going to take from them?” Reiji’s question suddenly deflated the mirth shared by the others.
“That…is a good question,” Gavin spoke without providing an answer. “Even more so, because I don’t actually know.” Sudden silence descended upon the group.
“You mean were going to go risk our lives to capture something, and we don’t even know what it is?” Marcus asked, the entrepreneur who’d made a few credits during the day with his washing-wand.
“We will deal with that…situation…when we reach it. Until then, rest assured that any man who survives is guaranteed at least his agreed upon compensation.” Gavin’s response seemed to instantly calm the assembly.
“And now that you know why we are here, I hope you will all understand that the closer we draw to our target, the more precaution we must take to not be discovered. Beginning now, we will be posting sentries whenever we are encamped. Each man will take his turn, or his pay will be reduced.”
Grumbles spread through the crowd, but Reiji remained silent. That was the first thing the man had said that made sense.
“IT must be worth a small fortune.” J.J. passed the binoculars to Reiji so he could take a look as well. They laid on their stomachs, resting very uncomfortably on a small outcropping of rock. The rest of their group waited in the shelter of a small valley some half a kilometer behind them.
Reiji lifted the binoculars to his eyes and the instrument auto-adjusted to find the best focus based on a quick scan of his eyeballs. The object came into stark contrast with its surroundings. An artificial well-head. And not the kind that brought water out of the ground from subterranean reservoirs.
This was the kind that made water. Powered by the sun, it removed hydrogen from the minerals in the ground beneath it and reacted it with atmospheric oxygen to produce water. A never ending stream of pure water that someone had put to use growing a small patch of crops around a decent-sized shelter built to resemble an old barn and farmhouse. In the middle of the fucking desert, Reiji noted. Far, far away from civilization.
He wasn’t sure what that said about the person or persons who had built the place. They could be religious fanatics, insane, or fed up with all of the bullshit that came from living in the city. Whatever their reasons had been, they seemed to have been there awhile.
Neat rows of irrigation ditches formed a grid-like pattern around the central structure and green life flourished there in hard contrast with the barren sands, spreading to the horizon in every direction. A few head of sheep milled about, trying to keep in the shade of the taller plants and mostly succeeding.
“Yeah,” Reiji finally responded. “That is some impressive tech. It would be worth a bundle if you could carry it back to the city.” He passed the binoculars back to J.J. who took them and placed them in a protective case.
“What do you reckon the boss will have to say about this place?” J.J. asked as he climbed down from the rocks, making sure to stay low and out of sight. Reiji noted the use of the word ‘boss’ in reference to Gavin. He acknowledged the man as his current employer, but in no way thought of him as the ‘boss’.
“Who knows?” Reiji answered. “Only one way to find out.”
Given his choice, Reiji would have simply ignored the place. If they were in a time critical situation, fucking around here would only make it worse. And if the man taking his turn at watch over the encampment hadn’t climbed so high up to take a dump, he’d have never seen the place. Meaning anyone there would never have had a chance to see Reiji and his companions.
Best to let sleeping dogs lie, he thought. There’s no telling what kind of trouble the place might hold.
Some half hour later, Reiji and J.J. emerged from the shadow of a rock outcropping and entered the small valley where the others had taken refuge from the sun and hot wind. Most of the men laid about in the open, passing on the relative comfort of their tents to take part in a hushed conversation. Gavin sat among them, Varg and Virgil never far away, as he ate an apple, fresh and green, and listened disinterestedly.
Apparently the chief had used one of his toys to check in on the position of the Cent-Sec regiment moving to secure their prize. They had been delayed by the sandstorm to an even greater degree than the group of cutthroats milling about in the sand. Gavin’s crew still had a lead of several days on them.
Plenty of time was the general consensus.
At Reiji and J.J.’s approach, Gavin looked up at them.
“And what do you make of it?”
“Looks like,” J.J. began, but Gavin raised his hand to silence the man.
“Not you,” he spoke. “You.” He pointed to Reiji. “What do you make of it? Are they a threat?”
Reiji paused for a moment. He hadn’t been expecting to give a briefing on what the offensive capabilities of a lone farm appeared to be. The men looked to Reiji with eyebrows arched. J.J. glared at him with no small amount of menace etched upon his features, eliciting a smile from Reiji.
“No,” he answered. “A farm is my guess. There’s some fancy tech down there, but no threat. Unless the farmhouse is hiding a tank or a few dozen men with longbows. Nothing to be worried about.”
“Fancy tech you say?” Gavin asked. “What kind of tech strikes you as fancy?” He rolled the half-eaten apple around in his hand as he spoke.
“Mineral extraction units. Solar hydroponics and the like. The roof of the place looks to be high efficiency cells.”
Gavin nodded sagely at that answer, reaching up and removing his sunglasses to rub the bridge of his nose for a second before replacing them. “Well then, perhaps we should take a closer look. Since we seem to have an extra day or two on our hands.”
The band’s approach was much less cautious than Reiji and J.J. had been in their advance scouting. They tried to stick to low terrain, following Gavin’s lead as always, but they moved at a quick pace and a distinctive trail of dust rose behind them as they marched.
Within a quarter of an hour they were within sight of the lone farm, and within ten more they had reached hailing distance. They reached a gate in a low chain-link fence that surrounded a green lawn. The first green things Reiji had seen since they had left the city, though just as deliberately cultivated.
Gavin dismounted and approached the gate, interacting with an intercom and pressing a button several times and waiting for a response. The front door of the farmhouse opened and a man emerged carrying a crooked and rusted blade the length of one of his arms. His eyes widened as he saw the group, fifteen men in all, each armed and covered in the filth of the hard trail through the desert.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he managed once he recovered from his initial shock. He had clearly been expecting someone else, Reiji thought.
“Gentlemen,” he began. “You seem to have lost your way quite badly to arrive at my humble farm. That, or you lot are with the soldiers that come through a few weeks back.” His eyes darted back and forth over the men just outside the fence. More than a few hands rested on the hilts of broadswords and knives. His gaze lingered on Reiji for a moment longer than the others, seeing the pair of swords he carried.
The farmer seemed to realize the potential danger he was in if he said the wrong thing. “Please, come in and take shelter from the desert. There’s fresh water, and baths, and I’ve enough food to go around.”
The farmer’s eyes returned to Reiji before he continued. “And let it not be said that I’m a poor host or a man without hospitality. I’ll even allow the half-breed under my roof.”
Reiji glared back at the man, right hand edging closer to Kai’s hilt, but remained calm. In his youth, such a statement would have been enough to start a fight that could only end with one of the combatants dead. Now, he wanted to gut the man, but he wouldn’t be the first to draw a blade. Either he’d become jaded to the insult or he had become more mellow with age. Likely a little of both, he thought.
His mixed heritage had been a sore point for him all of his life. Never fully accepted by either his mother’s or his father’s ethnic cousins. Japanese on one side and Irish on the other. He’d had to look up what that actually meant when he first heard those words. Japanese. Irish. When he found out he doubted that any of his ancestors had set foot in either of those long lost homelands within the past few centuries. He was pretty sure the same applied to everyone else on Lexington as well. Yet there they were deriding him for the actions of his parents.
Most on Lexington pretended not to care, but they invariably noticed. How could they not, he often thought as he looked at his facial features in a mirror or reflection. Some treated him differently, but most only cared about his money and how it could become their money.
Men muttered words of agreement with the farmer’s statement. What could be better than an actual bath and some food that didn’t come dried in a foil packet? Gavin rested both hands on the gate as he leaned forward, looking directly at the farmer.
The Way of Death Page 9
