"I thought you'd be happy to get a new supply. You just said the hectorite—"
"Hey, who the hell are you, bud? An idiot? The Baron is sending me imbeciles now? We just stitched this bucket of bolts to run on lithium from hectorite, and now you're telling me she's getting a load of crimsonium? After all the work we did to get everything overhauled? Do you know what that took? Look at the stupid look on your face—of course you don't! We modified everything. Everything! Do you know what will happen if you toss a single blood shard into the generator feed? Do you?"
Gunner blinked. "No…?"
McArthur threw up his hands. "KaBOOM! That's what happens. The current setup can't handle the raw power of blood shards. The temperature, pressure, and confinement time are all different than with lithium. The current setup won't be able to withstand it. We'll have to take it all apart. Re-engineer it. And how are we expected to do that and keep this piss-pot of a Town running? Huh? You got any ideas?"
"No, sir."
"Then get the hell outta here and don't come back until the wizard gives you a brain. Tell the Baron I need to talk to her. In person, not on a screen. In person! Can you do that, at least?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right, then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. Like make sure this place doesn't blow us all to kingdom come."
Chapter 8: A False Witness
The group that waited outside the Judge's manor was a more subdued lot than they were the last time he was there. Several nursed injuries, looking worried in their singed and bloodstained clothes. Janey raised her head at Gunner's approach. A fresh scar on her cheek joined the collection of faded ones on her face. She squinted, one hand drifting to her revolver.
"You come here to kill me?"
"Didn't we have this conversation just yesterday?"
"People change their minds all the time."
"Well, mine ain't changed. I come to see the Judge."
One of the outlaws shifted, a glum look on his face. "Better if you didn't. Judge ain't in a good mood."
"What happened?"
"We got ambushed yesterday when—"
"Shut yer yap, Billy," Janey said. "That ain't none of this man's business." She turned to Gunner. "You got business with the Judge, guess you better head in there. Can't say no one warned you."
Gunner handed over his pistol belt to the guard and was admitted inside. Angry shouting echoed off the walls as soon as he entered. He followed the sounds until he arrived at a great room paneled in wood with exposed beams and a raised ceiling. Shelves on the walls were packed with books and pre-Cataclysm collectibles. A wide table centered the place, decorated with expensive tableware and glasses. The Judge stood behind a bar of polished wood on one side of the room, face reddened with fury. Bane stood a few feet away, one enormous hand encircling Waingrow's throat. The bandit gurgled, futilely trying to tear himself free of the cyborg's grasp. His boots dangled above the floor, jerking as Bane choked the life out of him.
Bane dropped Waingrow at Gunner's entrance, drawing the heavy pistol from his side and pointing it. Waingrow flopped on the ground, coughing and massaging his neck. The Judge glared at Gunner.
"This better be good news. Or Bane will handle you next."
Gunner's mouth curved into a tight grin. He casually placed a cheroot between his teeth. "A man that hides behind another man don't last for too long. Only a matter of time before the man he's hiding behind gets taken down. Care to guess what happens then?"
The Judge placed a hand on the countertop and vaulted over the bar. He stretched his arm out, and a hidden gun popped from his sleeve and slid into his hand. He pulled the trigger; the retort exploded off the walls. Gunner winced when the cheroot disintegrated into dust in front of his face.
The Judge smirked. "I didn't get to run this Town without getting my hands dirty, Gunner. You'd do well not to forget that."
Gunner spat the remnants of the cigar from his teeth, rubbing his ringing ears with his fingers. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Good. Now talk before I lose my patience."
Gunner glanced at Waingrow, who groaned as he used the bar to pull himself upright. "Well, for starters, you're choking this man out for no reason."
"I'm punishing this man because he failed me. How would you know anything about it?"
"Oh, I had a conversation with the Baron. Looks as if she heard about the raid you were planning. Said she made sure to get word to the railing station so that they'd expect the hit. Guessing from the looks of your crew outside, she must have been successful."
The Judge blinked. "That's impossible. How did she find out?"
Gunner looked around at the walls. "She got surveillance inside your place."
"Again, that's not possible. I have this place scanned every day."
"Maybe she knows when you scan for bugs. Or maybe she got bugs outside. Or maybe one of your men has loose lips. Either way, she knew about what was going down. And she put a stop to it."
"You heard this firsthand? From the Baron's own mouth?"
Gunner smiled as he helped himself to a shot of Scotch from the Judge's bar. "Sure did. Seems the Baron has taken a liking to me. She's got it in her mind that I'll gain your trust and then stab you in the back on her say-so."
"Is that so? She planning on taking me out?"
"If needs be. She'd prefer a siege approach to open bloodshed, though. Just keep taking pieces away from you until you have nothing left. And she has everything." He downed the Scotch. "Huh. That's not bad."
The Judge fumed; brows knitted. "We'll see about that. I have a mind to round up the rest of my men and march down to her saloon right now. We'll see how cunning she can be with a hail of bullets raining down."
Gunner poured himself another shot. "If she has eyes on this place, then she'll see you coming from a mile away. She'll be ready for you."
The Judge pointed a finger at Bane. "Nothing she can do will make her ready for him. He's an army by himself."
"That might be true, but how much of the Town will be destroyed in the process? I've been to the power station. It's downright fragile with the modifications. Won't take much to blow the place sky-high. I figure the Baron probably has a failsafe to do just that if she feels threatened enough."
"I wouldn't put it past her, but every action has an equal reaction. Her move against me must be countered."
Gunner glanced out the window. "You could take the mines from her."
"The mines?"
"Yeah. I heard from the bird that the Baron got a shipment of blood shards in just today. Figure it was payment for warning the shipping company about your raid. Well, you have a new fusion generator. She's got the blood shards to power it. I propose a two-pronged attack. Disrupt the power to the mines so that the Ferals lose their shock collars. With them running loose, chaos will erupt. While she's got her people figuring that out, you have your people take the blood shards. When it's over, the Baron won't have any negotiating power. She'll be at your mercy."
The Judge nodded, stroking his chin. "That's not a bad idea, actually. But the Baron knows my people by sight. It'll be hard to get any of them within a hundred yards of the mine without being spotted."
"I figure I can be your inside man, Judge. If the incentive is right, anyhow."
The Judge smiled. "What's your price, Gunner?"
"I understand you have an open position for Sheriff. I always wanted to know what it was like wearing a badge."
"If you can pull this off, then the job is yours. I'd be more than happy to employ a man of your considerable skills." His eyes slid over to Waingrow, who was still hunched over, panting from exertion. "God knows the pickings are slim around here."
"Guess I'll be on my way then. When you see power shut down in the mines, that'll be your signal to attack." Gunner glanced at Waingrow. "You coming?"
Waingrow nodded, limping as he followed Gunner out of the great room. He dropped his voice to a low whisper. "I don't know what game you're pl
aying, but I guess I owe you one."
"That's right," Gunner said. "You do owe me one. One more piece of advice: find some distance away from the Judge."
"What do you mean?"
"Just a fair warning, Waingrow. If you value whatever people you got left, better fade into the background. Especially tonight."
"The Judge is yours," he told the Baron. "He'll be sending men to steal your blood shards tonight. I'd move them to another location now, but let the attack go on as planned. When his people enter the warehouse, you blow the place to hell. With most of his men dead, the Judge will have no choice but to surrender his generator. You'll have the ability to reconstruct the power station and have complete control over the operations of this place. The Judge will be at your mercy, even with Bane by his side."
Her eyes gleamed with anticipation. "You're sure he's making his move tonight?"
The saloon was closed for business. He sat at one of the gambling tables, pouring a shot of rye into a glass. The Baron sat across from him; one leg casually propped on an empty chair. Marshal Wiley and a handful of her most trusted circle stood by a few feet away, inspecting and arming their weapons.
"It's tonight. I'll have to cause a distraction at the mines to give the signal. Cutting the power should do the trick. I figure you won't mind since the mine is gonna be useless after tonight anyway."
She nodded. "I don't give two shits what happens to the mine. It's time to close that operation down anyway. I'll scatter some men that way when the power goes out, then have them double back after the Judge sends his men to the warehouse. I'll detonate the explosives, then have my people finish off anyone who survives the blast."
Wiley racked a shotgun and grinned. "Like fish in a barrel."
The Baron picked up the bottle of bourbon and took a swallow. "And then it's finished."
Gunner glanced out the window, where shadows smothered the Town as evening settled in. Lights winked on in windows and alongside buildings, and the people kept on going about their business, taking no notice. "And then what?"
"I visit my father’s grave and tell him it’s over."
"Your father?"
"That's right." The Baron's eyes glazed slightly, staring into the past. "My father used to be the Baron of this town, back when it was an orderly little trade station. He took care of the people and kept law and order in the town. That all changed with the Judge rode in with his army of robbers and murderers. I remember that day like it was yesterday. The men were more animals than human beings, filthy and smelling of blood. They'd come all the way from the Hinterland border, killing and marauding, burning entire towns behind them. I don't know what it was that made the Judge want to stop here, but when he did, my father was the first to meet him at the gates. I don't know what he said to the Judge, but the conversation was quick. The Judge pulled his pistol and shot my father in the face. His men trampled his body as they rode in, yelling and shooting anyone that stood in their way. It only took a few minutes to lay their claim to the Town. By the time they cooled their bloodlust down in the bars and brothels, it was deep into the night. I finally came out of hiding to find my father's body. There wasn't much left. And staring at his mangled remains, I learned lessons that would be branded into my consciousness. Including the most valuable one of all."
"Which is?" Gunner asked.
"That power is a lie. I thought my father had power until the Judge arrived. And I thought the Judge had power until I realized it was all illusion. The moment that illusion shatters, his power dissolves with it. No, real power comes from being indispensable, placing yourself in a position where you're always needed. And that's what I did. I worked at tasks others found boring or undesirable. I dug trenches in the infrastructure of this Town and made sure my people were placed deep within. The Judge didn't care. He was grateful for the assistance. He never even noticed what I'd become until it was too late. Now I'm as untouchable as he is, the balance of power shared between the two of us. And after waiting all this time, the moment has finally arrived for things to shift completely into my hands. When I kill the Judge, my father's legacy will end. Then I'll be free to pursue my own."
Her eyes refocused on Gunner. "You want to know what comes next? Order. Civilization. This will be a center for commerce and innovation. The undesirables will need to be purged from this place, exiled to whatever fortunes they can find elsewhere."
"Undesirables?" Gunner grinned, gesturing to the posse in the saloon. "You mean like us?"
"No. The Town will need its protectors—men and women with grit and courage, brave and fearless. But with badges on their chests, not gang sashes around their waists. It's the bandits, the mercenaries, the Nimrods, the outlaws that will have to go. Yeah, and the religious zealots too. People like your friend Pablo and his ilk, filling the minds of the townsfolk with nonsense about imaginary creatures demanding tribute and retribution. That has no place in modern civilization. Religion is just another way to influence people, and when you capture their hearts, you can make them do whatever you want. We don't need that around here. Round 'em up and drive 'em out, I say. I'll stamp them out like a fire if I have to. Just like the Ferals that sneak around stealing anything not locked down, taking it to their filthy trash camp on the top of the mesa. My future has no place for them, either."
She gave him a considering look through her sooty lashes. "You're supposed to be the best at killing those creatures from what I've heard. Maybe you'll want to get back in the business and take care of that problem for me. There's good money in it."
"Be glad to," Gunner said, tipping back the glass of rye. "I'll start with the ones in the mine. Guess in a couple of hours you'll have everything in hand. Except maybe what to do about Bane, unless you got a tank or a rocket launcher around here."
"Someone tried a rocket launcher. It didn't work. But I got something better." She reached inside her jacket and pulled out a cylindrical object, red and gleaming between her fingers.
Gunner leaned in for a closer look. "That a bullet made from a blood shard?"
"Among other things. My top scientist has been working on it for months. It should overload Bane's system and shut him down. In theory, that is."
"Which means the person who takes the shot is pretty much doomed if it doesn't work as planned. Good luck with finding a patsy for that job."
She shrugged. "Plenty of gunfighters looking for a fistful of gold bulls. Didn't take too much convincing to get one to use a specialized round. Made the deal through a third party; if it goes bad then it doesn't trace back to me. You should stick around. It's gonna be a show you don't want to miss."
He shook his head, set the glass on the table, and stood. "'Much as I'd love to, I got a lot of work to do to make all of this work. I best be going. You'll know when the Judge makes his move."
"I'll be looking out. Thanks for your help, Gunner. Needless to say, I'll make it worth your while."
"I'm counting on it, Baron." He tipped his hat and walked out of the saloon.
Wiley walked over, frowning in that direction. "He's up to something. For all we know, he's feeding the Judge the same story. We should hold back."
"No." The Baron stood and adjusted her gun belt. "The reward is worth the risk. Stick to the plan."
"So we're just gonna trust this guy? I'm telling you—there's no way he's telling us the whole truth."
She gave Wiley a sharp glance. "Of course he's not. Did you see his boots?"
"What about them?"
"The dust had those glimmering flecks only found in the mines. He's been in there."
"Goddammit."
"What?"
"There was an incident today. Someone bashed Woody's face in. He's alive, but he'll be drinking out of a straw for months. We assumed one of the Ferals got to him. Had to shock the whole lot of them as punishment. But if Gunner was down there, he could have done it. But why?"
"Doesn't matter. He's snooping around, gathering intel. Could be for the Judge, could be for hims
elf. I want eyes on him. We'll find out what he's up to."
"Got it. I'll tail him with a drone. He'll never know we're watching."
"You're a dead man."
Gunner glanced into the alley, where Janey stood in the shadows, puffing on a cigarillo. The dim lighting emphasized the scars on her face, turning her expression into something sinister. A revolver gleamed in her fist, pointed directly at him.
"I could've cut you down right now, and you wouldn't have seen me. Sloppy."
He stepped into the alleyway, glancing upward. No cameras were visible, placing them in a perfect blind spot. "Yeah, I guess so."
"You gave Waingrow a warning, didn't ya? Told him something is gonna go down tonight and for him to stay away from it."
"Yeah, I guess I did."
"Why?"
"Figured he wanted out from under the Judge."
"You figured wrong. Waingrow ain't nothing if not loyal to a fault. He'd never flip on the Judge. You should've told me. I ain't loyal to nobody but myself."
"Reckoned telling Waingrow would cover you too. Thought he'd want to keep his crew outta harm's way."
"I don't get it. Why bother in the first place? We robbed you and left you to die."
"Let's just say I know what it's like to work for someone like the Judge. I know how hard it is to get outta that situation."
"Should've kept your yap shut. Now you gotta watch your back. Waingrow will probably sell you out to get back on the Judge's good side."
"Why warn me?"
"Figured it would make us even. Plus, I'm looking for a way outta this situation. Had enough of Waingrow's thick skull. Had enough of doing the Judge's dirty work for peanuts."
"Then I guess you better make yourself scarce in the next few hours because the Judge is going down. Mark my words."
"How can you know that?"
"Because I'm in the loop. You can take it or leave it."
She exhaled a stream of smoke into the breeze. "Yeah, okay. Reckon I won't be seeing you around."
"Guess not."
She edged backward, watching him until she reached the corner of the building. Then she was gone, footsteps quickly fading into the darkness.
The Gunner Chronicles Page 9
