‘Okay,’ said Kal, still not sure where this was going. ‘Seems reasonable.’
‘Afterwards, all the records are burned.’ He stopped for a minute and continued staring at the clouds swirling past the window. Jerico could tell that his nephew was getting up the nerve to say something more, and left him alone. ‘If a scribe gets fired or leaves the house for any reason, we have standing orders to shoot them. They will go to any lengths to keep Grandfather’s failing mental abilities a secret.’
‘Interesting.’
The two Helmawr relatives spent the rest of the trip in silence, each with his own thoughts about what the future might hold.
Lysanne motioned the two Escher juves on ahead. Tay and Tor were their names. Tay was tall and statuesque, the model of an Escher, with long, blonde hair. Tor was shorter, with almond skin and slightly slanted eyes, giving her a mysterious look. They’d been Lysanne’s first recruits after getting promoted by Vicksen. Now she was leading her first mission and wanted everything to go just right. It was a simple patrol. She and the juves were heading down to Dust Falls to search for Yolanda.
She knew that Vicksen didn’t expect any trouble, otherwise she would have sent more experienced gang members, but you could never be too careful, especially with that Underhive vampire on the loose. Themis said that reports of vampire attacks had been coming in from all over the Underhive in the last few days.
Tor indicated the all clear, so Lysanne and the others jogged towards the corner. Lysanne’s cropped, mousey-brown hair bobbed as she ran. She was dressed in loose-fitting black pants and a wraparound top that tied at the sides, providing free motion when fighting. Two ornate symbols were painted on her back, spelling out ‘sister’ and ‘friend,’ which to Lysanne were one and the same. She pulled out her plasma pistol as she ran forward, just in case. You can’t be too careful.
Tay stood at the door to The Dusty Hole, the main merc drinking hole in Dust Falls. Tor was crossing the street to join her. The Dusty Hole was usually full of ratskin scouts for hire. They led gangs over the Falls on the one-mile trip down to the Hive Bottom. The risk was great, but so was the reward, if you survived. If anyone had information about Yolanda, they’d be in here and should be willing to part with the info for the right price. And if not, well, that’s what the plasma gun was for.
Lysanne was just about to cross the street to join Tay and Tor when the front of the bar exploded, sending the two juves flying into the air. ‘Spread out!’ yelled Lysanne to the rest of her gang jogging along behind. ‘Find cover!’ The young ganger ran into the street, grabbed Tor by the collar, and started pulling her back toward the corner.
She looked over at Tay, but knew it was probably too late. The blast had shredded her body. Worse than that, though, was the site Lysanne beheld at the end of the street. ‘Spyrers!’ yelled Lysanne. She redoubled her efforts to get Tor to safety as laser blasts slammed into the ground all around her.
A five-member Spyrer team, decked out in their impressive mechanical rigs, marched down the street. They looked more like robots than men in their power armour. These were noble-born gangers wearing the latest and greatest innovations in armour, with weapons you’d normally expect to see mounted on a tank attached to their arms and backs.
‘What in the Hive are they doing here?’ asked Ashya from the corner.
‘How should I know?’ replied Lysanne. She’d finally reached the side street, and laid Tor down next to Ashya. ‘Why don’t you go ask them nicely?’ she said with a sneer. Looking at Tor, bleeding and burnt beside her, and Tay lying unconscious, or worse, in the street, Lysanne wasn’t in the mood to talk.
She peered around the corner again. ‘Damn. They’re on the move and one of them is missing!’ Luckily, the big brute with rocket launchers for hands was lagging behind, but there was one with a wicked-looking filament sword and a shield that glinted strangely in the light, along with two others with some strange tubes attached to their back. The fifth one had just disappeared.
‘Ashya, Ginger, Ellie and Jenna,’ she called out. ‘Cover me. I’m going after Tay.’
‘Bu–’ said Ashya.
‘Just do it. I’m not leaving her here to become an ornament on their armour.’
Jenna sent a line of flame down the street while Ashya and Ellie shot laser blasts through the fire with their laspistols. Ginger cocked her grenade launcher and pumped a couple of plasma grenades down the street.
Lysanne knew their weapons would have little effect against the heavily armoured Spyrers, but they might distract them just long enough, if she was quick. She sprinted back into the street, dived and rolled up next to Tay. Laser blasts burned holes in the ground all around her. The Spyrer with the monofilament sword advanced on her. She shot a blast from her plasma pistol at him, but he blocked it with his shield. The blast just seemed to get sucked into the jewelled surface. She didn’t know what to make of that until he pointed the shield at her and the plasma bolt streamed back at her. Lysanne threw her arms up, but a jet of flame from Jenna intercepted the plasma, which exploded between Lysanne and the Spyrers.
‘Get out of here or you’re dead,’ Lysanne yelled at Jenna. She lifted Tay onto her shoulders and ran toward the blasted front of The Dusty Hole, calling back, ‘I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point. Go, go!’
Lysanne got just inside the bar when another explosion rocked the building. Chunks of stone and metal beams fell all around her, and then her world went black.
Lysanne opened her eyes, but couldn’t see a thing. Her head throbbed and she still felt a little dizzy, but she didn’t think she’d broken anything. There was a weight on her back and she couldn’t get up. She reached back. Whatever was on top of her was cold, but soft. She pulled her hand back immediately and tried to crawl forward. She moved a few inches and then a few more. Something shifted and creaked behind her, but nothing more fell. Dust rose up around her, making her cough.
A few more inches and her legs were clear. She sat up to get out of the dust and noticed some dim light seeping into the room. She got up carefully, testing her legs and the floor as she stood, and then felt her way around the debris toward where she had entered. Light was coming from a window that had not been totally covered with debris. She pushed through the opening and fell out onto the street.
The street was empty. There was no sign of the Spyrers or her Wildcat sisters. Lysanne had no idea how much time had passed, but decided to make her way to the rendezvous point anyway. They were supposed to meet just outside the settlement by the Dust Falls – a huge hole caused by a waterfall of chemical waste that had eaten its way right through to the bottom of the Hive. All that was left now was the hole and the dust that followed the waste, giving the settlement its name.
Lysanne checked her gear as she jogged toward the Falls. Her plasma pistol was gone and her pack had been crushed. Tay was dead now. She was sure of that. The body had been ice cold on her back. Tay’s body had probably saved her life back there. ‘I’ll make those Spyrer scum pay,’ she said quietly to herself.
The Falls were just ahead, but it was strangely quiet. She slowed down and crept forward to the edge of the last building before the hole. There were the Spyrers at the edge. The one that had disappeared was hovering over the hole. Her hunting rig incorporated huge wings that Lysanne hadn’t noticed before.
The flying spyrer was carrying a human body, holding it under the arms and dangling it over the hole. It was Ashya! She was kicking and screaming, but Lysanne recognised her straight black hair and the tight-fitting grey pantsuit she’d been wearing earlier. Lysanne went for her weapon, and then remembered it wasn’t in her holster anymore.
She looked around for the rest of her gang, but didn’t see any of them. The Spyrer with the filament sword was saying something.
‘We know he was here!’ he screamed. ‘We found one of his weapons in the settlement.’
‘Who?’ Ashya yelled. ‘The vampire?
‘Vampire? What vampire?’ asked the
Spyrer leader.
‘It attacked someone here a few days ago,’ said Ashya. Now let me go!’
‘First tell me about this vampire.’
‘I don’t know anything,’ said Ashya. She’d stopped squirming but looked horribly frightened. Lysanne couldn’t do anything but watch. ‘It’s supposed to be huge. Three metres tall. And it can fly. And it sucks blood. I don’t know what you want!’
‘Where is this vampire now?’
‘The last I heard, it was in Glory Hole,’ she answered. ‘That’s all I know. Please let me go.’
‘You heard the lady,’ said the Spyrer. ‘Let her go.’
Lysanne stifled a scream as Ashya plummeted down into Dust Falls. Her scream could be heard for a long time.
‘What in the Hive do we want with some mutant vampire, Jonas?’ asked the Spryer with the rocket launcher arms.
‘That’s just Underhive superstition,’ replied Jonas. ‘I’m sure it’s our quarry. The timing is right, among other things. Pack it up folks. We’re headed for Glory Hole.’
Oh scav, thought Lysanne. That was where the rest of the Wildcats were headed. She loped away from the Spyrers, trying to think where she could get a weapon big enough to cut through that power armour.
Markel Bobo was having a good day. He was on a simple R & R mission – reconnoitre and report. Even better, his target was currently on an inbound transport, there was only one access point to observe, and the subject was easily recognisable. Bobo had been able to spend an extra hour at the gaming tables before sauntering down town and holing up in one of his favourite duck blinds.
It was a sweet set-up. He entered Madam Noritake’s House of Fun, paid for a room, and sat in a comfy chair in a darkened room with a full view of the Hive City docks. If the transport bringing his duck into town was delayed, his day could get even better. He had paid for the room already.
Bobo was well suited to his line of work. He was short, slightly built, and fairly nondescript. Most people who passed him on the street didn’t give the little man a first glance, let alone a second, and Bobo liked it that way. He could disappear in plain sight or in the shadows. Anyone who underestimated Markel Bobo usually wound up dropped into Dust Falls.
His clothes were nothing remarkable. A simple cloth shirt and pants, not too clean, but not dirty either. He wore no visible weapons, and anyone who cared to worry about whether he was armed wouldn’t be able to detect any under his clothes without stripping him bare. But Markel had access to no less than a dozen lethal weapons, not counting the ones he had stashed under the chair before sitting down.
So there Bobo sat in his comfy chair, eating a bowl of real soup courtesy of Jenn Strings, one of Madam Noritake’s girls who was sweet on Markel, and enjoying his easy R and R mission, when his day went totally to hell.
Bobo resettled his visor over his eyes and focused on the roof of the House Cawdor warehouse where he’d seen a glint of light where it didn’t belong. Yes, there it was again. The unmistakable shine of glass or metal reflecting a bit of light. Bobo wouldn’t have even noticed it, except a group of dock workers were busy loading a shipment. The crane lights were at just the right height and angle to reflect whatever was on the roof of the warehouse into Bobo’s room.
He focused in further and found what he was looking for. There, tucked between an air duct, heading up toward the top of the dome, and a group of conduits that ran the length of the docks supplying power to all of the warehouses, sat K W Dutt with a pict camera pointed down at the docks.
Bobo had always thought Dutt was far too tall to make a competent spy. That was one of the reasons he had never tried to recruit him as an agent. He was almost freakishly tall, especially compared to Bobo’s one-point-five metre frame, wore rumpled, almost too large clothing, and had a shock of sandy hair that seemed to constantly fly around his head.
Where Bobo lived by remaining uniquely unremarkable and unmemorable, Dutt stood out like a peacock. His appearance almost demanded people to notice him as soon as he walked into a room, but somehow it worked for Dutt. He was so tall and so obviously dishevelled that people took pains to get out of his way and forget him as soon as he was gone.
But his height had given Dutt away today. If Bobo had used the Cawdor warehouse blind, he’d have been completely hidden behind the pipes. In fact he might have needed to stand on a box to see over the conduits. Bobo checked the time. The transport was due in fifteen minutes. Just enough time to check in and get guidance on how to proceed. No matter what, though, Bobo’s easy mission had just gotten complicated.
It took a few minutes to set up a secure line. Bobo opened the case that Jenn kept for him and had placed under the bed before he arrived. Inside was a portable jammer that would shield the room and a closed-circuit pict-caller. With the click of a button, a tripod extended from the bottom of the case. He set it in the middle of the room and placed the jammer on top. When Bobo turned on the device, he could feel his short, stringy hair stand up as the power field ionised the air. No matter what he thought of House van Saar, he couldn’t help but be impressed by their technology, especially when he hadn’t actually paid for it.
He took the pict-caller over to the bed and opened a hidden panel in the wall behind the headboard. Inside was a conduit that had been cut open to expose the copper wire inside. It took just fifteen seconds to splice the device into the wiring. Bobo always timed it. He pressed a familiar series of buttons on the pict-caller, activated his personal encryption key, and then retired to his chair to keep one eye on Dutt while he waited.
A few minutes later the pict-caller beeped. Dutt hadn’t moved yet and the transport was still ten minutes out. Bobo flicked a switch and stood to attention.
He heard a voice say, ‘What is it, Bobo?’ a moment before the image of Hermod Kauderer appeared on the screen. ‘The transport hasn’t even landed yet.’
‘There’s been a development, sir,’ Bobo said. ‘Nemo has sent a man to the docks as well. One of his best agents.’
‘I see,’ said Kauderer. Even from the small pict-screen placed on the low bed, the hawkish master of intrigue seemed to be looking down at Bobo. ‘That was to be expected.’
Bobo was specially trained in the art of reading people. He had to know within seconds whether a person was trustworthy or not, whether they were telling the truth or lying, whether they should live or die. He could not read Kauderer at all. ‘Should I dispatch him sir?’
‘Whatever for?’
‘If Nemo has put his best agent on this,’ said Bobo, getting a bit flustered by his master’s nonchalance, ‘he must be taking a personal interest in Jerico’s mission. It would seem prudent to keep the spymaster in the dark.’
‘And alerting him to the fact that we know of his involvement seems imprudent to me,’ said Kauderer. ‘Proceed as ordered. Monitor Jerico’s mission and report only if he succeeds. All else is being handled.’
‘And what about Dutt, sir?’ said Bobo. ‘Um, Nemo’s agent.’
‘Take him out for tea for all I care,’ said Kauderer. ‘Just do not lose sight of Jerico.’
Bobo could read his master’s tone easily now and kept his mouth shut, except for a quick ‘Yes, sir,’ before cutting the connection.
He stared at the blank screen for a moment longer before packing up the case and sitting back at his window. Dutt was still at his post, and the transport was now five minutes out. Nothing to do but wait; wait and think about the conversation with Kauderer. After a while, just before the transport was scheduled to dock, Bobo came to a decision. He stood at the window in full view of the docks, and turned on the lights. Just for a moment, just long enough to catch sight of Dutt staring at him from the warehouse roof.
This mission just got much more interesting, he thought.
Yolanda stood on the roof next to the hole where she had found Beddy’s decapitated body. She had struck a pose, with her fists on her hips and one leg slightly forward as if she were an ornament on the prow of a ship. Of course
, if she were Kal Jerico, she realised, a ventilation fan nearby would produce a stiff breeze to make her leather jacket and loin-cloth flutter in its artificial wind.
She straightened up and peered down into the hole. ‘Find anything?’ she called down.
‘Yeah,’ said Scabbs, his voice the only evidence of his presence in the darkness below. ‘Lots of rats.’
‘Well you should feel right at home then,’ Yolanda said with a chuckle. ‘Ask them if they saw which way the vampire went,’ she added. ‘You’re practically family, right? You probably dated one of their sisters.’
As Yolanda laughed at her jokes, she saw Scabbs’s torch stop moving in the darkness below. At first she thought he was just mad about the rat jokes, but after a minute the torch still hadn’t moved again.
‘Scabbs?’ she called. ‘Are you all right?’
There was no answer.
‘Scabbs? Stop fooling around. You’re starting to scare me.’
Still no answer. Yolanda listened, but all she could hear was her heart beating in her ample chest. She pulled out her laspistols, triggered the torches atop each one and jumped down into the hole. Standing with her arms outstretched in either direction, Yolanda slowly rotated, throwing light around the room. She finally found Scabbs, crouched on the floor next to his torch.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, creeping over toward him but still waving one gun around the room to make sure they were alone. When she got close enough to see the floor around her partner, Yolanda screamed. ‘What in Helmawr’s name are you doing?’
Scabbs, surrounded by dead rats, was on his knees leaning down with his face almost touching the ground. At first, Yolanda thought he might be praying for the souls of his dead family members lying around him. Then she noticed that one of the dead rats was directly beneath the scabby half-breed’s face. That was when she screamed.
Scabbs looked up. ‘What?’ He looked back down at the rat and suddenly realised what Yolanda was thinking. ‘No,’ he said dismissively, ‘I was checking for puncture wounds.’ He grabbed his torch and stood up. ‘All of these rats have been completely drained, just like Beddy.’
Blood Royal Page 9
