Future Reborn

by Daniel Pierce

  It didn’t last long, but like anything perfect, it never does. But as moments go, it was damned near perfect, ending with my legs shaking hard enough I thought I might die from leg cramps. What a way to go.

  “Good,” she said, crawling back up my body like a vine when she was finished, tucking into the muscles of my chest while her fingers played at drawing shapes on my skin only she could see.

  I craned my head to see her curls spilling over the bed, a half-moon of her face lighter in the dark room. I knew three things. Since Bel died, Mira was alone, yet not fully alone because of me. She was mine in a way that I had to consider, unless I discarded her and moved on across the sweeping sands of a place that was more lethal than anything I’d ever seen before.

  The decision was easy, because I also knew the Empty—and the post—were in need of justice and order. A strong hand to rebuild, even recreate the best parts of my world without all the bullshit that dragged us kicking and screaming into whatever this land had become.

  I let my hand rest on her full breast, soft under my touch. Tomorrow, I would take the next step, but for tonight, I would be still. If she would let me.

  13

  Morning broke clear and bright. I heard Lasser cough discreetly at the door, then rose to greet him, pulling on the linen shorts Natif scrounged after I made a plea for clean clothes. Mira turned over, naked and stretching like a cat. It took a moment to tear my eyes away, but I opened the door and stepped out into the dim hall.

  “Morning,” I said, looking at the carafe he carried, along with two mugs. “I don’t suppose you have coffee in that?”

  “Even better. I have desert bean with honey, and good morning to you, Jack,” Lasser said. I took the offered mug, watching him expertly pour something hot, dark, and fragrant.

  “Desert bean?” I asked. The smell was incredible, whatever it was. My mind told me it was coffee, but my eyes thought my mug had a sheen on the surface, like oil.

  “Coffee grown in the western highlands. I roast it here myself, leaving the husks on. The oil is a bit...aggressive. Proceed with care, Jack,” he said with a wink. I didn’t know if he meant the desert bean or Mira, who opened the door behind me, waving sleepily. “Mira, good morning. Desert bean?”

  “Hit me, friend, and call it coffee before I’ve had a cup. Saves time.” Her smile was thankful.

  “Now that you’ve reduced Wetterick’s champions to bones, what do you have planned for today, Jack? Sacking Kassos?” he asked me. Mira lifted a brow over her cup, saying nothing. The mood shifted from playful to tense when I realized he was only half joking.

  “Kassos is the city?” I asked. I needed a second to consider my next move. I had an idea, but it meant planning ahead.

  “It is,” Lasser’s replied.

  “Tens of thousands of people. Rotten to the core but rich beyond your dreams. Hightec is common there, but it isn’t cheap. You’d have to kill a hundred champions to afford what they have,” Mira said.

  That sealed my decision. “I met a girl, Scoot. Said her father was an armorer?”

  “He’s a rare talent, that one. Scoot is his agent since her mother passed last year. Good kid and a good family. No one deserves what happened to them.” Lasser sighed as he waved us down the steps, the carafe balanced in hand. “Derin was a wreck, but Scoot kept him fed and helped while they both grieved.”

  “What happened?” I asked. We made it to the landing, and the entire bottom floor of the hotel was empty, though the windows were open and bright sun filled the rooms.

  “Wetterick’s ego happened, that’s what,” Mira said. Her voice was so sour I turned to regard her, waiting for more, but she just shook her head in disgust.

  “Mira is right. The bastard tried to make an alliance with the agents of some deluded fool to the east who thinks he’s some kind of minor god. Invited his men to the post for a feast and a night at Lady Silk’s, all in the name of brotherhood, of course,” Lasser growled. It was the first time I’d seen him lose his mask of control.

  I knew where the story was going. “Was Scoot’s mother a beautiful woman?”

  Lasser’s eyes snapped to me as if stung. “Yes. She was.”

  “And the men found her, thought she was one of Lady Silk’s girls, and something went wrong?” I asked. I could feel the blood pounding in my temples as the anger rose.

  “She took two of them down before...before the lieutenant had his way with her. Then he gave her to the other men,” Lasser said. “She did not survive the attack. Scoot and Derin were in transit from Kassos on a supply run. She was already buried when they made it back, and by then, the offending party had already left, gone to the east in service of the monster they serve.”

  “Name,” I said.

  “What?” Lasser asked me, confused.

  “A fucking name. Give me the name of the lieutenant—and his master, for good measure.” I mimicked writing something on a list. “I like to keep a record for my future travels. You never know who you’ll run across out in the Empty, and I want to make sure I send greetings from Scoot and her father.”

  “You don’t even know them,” Lasser said, but his protest was weak, bewildered. He didn’t know me well enough yet. He would.

  Lasser blew out a long breath, and I knew I’d hit a sore spot.

  I decided to explain myself, because everyone would know how I felt. “It’s nothing you’ve done, Lasser. This is about every shithead who acts like other people exist to live under their boots as stepping stones. I’ve hated it since I was a kid, and I hate it now. There isn’t any civil authority here, which mean it’s like a constant state of low-level war, and every time I’ve seen this kind of thing, the same people get hurt.”

  “People like Scoot,” Lasser said.

  “Exactly. What if I could change that?” I felt the ripple of muscle across my chest and wondered just how far my new body could take me. What else did the ‘bots do, other than add speed, strength, and a strange desire to turn into Wyatt Earp? I didn’t know.

  I was going to find out.

  Mira took my arm, her expression grave. “You wouldn’t be the first person to challenge Wetterick or the people like him.”

  “You would be the first to go after the Temple Unseen and their leader,” Lasser said. “You wanted a name? The Temple is a scourge, run by a warrior priest named Taksa. He’s evil all right, but his right-hand man isn’t a man at all. It’s a woman who calls herself Senet. Where Taksa is bad, she’s just vicious.”

  “Vicious? How?” I asked. I needed to know. I had a feeling we would meet one day.

  Lasser exhaled, thinking of how best to describe two assholes who were both bad but different. “Taksa does things in the light. He likes grand shows of pain and humiliation. He seizes wives and daughters, strips them nude in public while the family is there. He kills, to be sure, but Senet is worse. Far worse. She makes people vanish and travels with the Black Room as her own personal torture chamber. It has no windows, and it’s drawn by four dark ogres with their horns wrapped in razor wire. They’re fed a steady diet of victims when she’s done with them, and they’re always hungry because there isn’t much left. Not when Senet finishes her questions. The only ones who survive have the mark on them, although true believers take it out of devotion rather than torture. You’ll know it when you see it. An arrow on their back pointed to heaven. It’s how he knows they belong to him and that bitch sister of his.”

  My knuckles cracked, loud as gunshots in the empty hotel. I shook my hands out and let my eyes flutter a few times to purge the building rage. A torturer and a would-be god. I’d prove them both wrong, given the opportunity, but I couldn’t do it alone.

  I also couldn’t do it in a glorified set of pajamas.

  “Take me to Derin and Scoot,” I said, pointing toward the wide doors with my chin.

  “Armor?” Mira asked.

  “Not just armor. I need something that’s going to scare Taksa the way she scares people in the Empty. I don�
�t think I can just be myself anymore. I need to expand my presence, and it starts with how I go into each fight. I wiped the dirt with Wetterick’s men because they were used to soft competition, but that won’t always be the case.”

  We emerged into bright sunlight and heat, the day now in full swing as people bustled around like a school of fish. They had more purpose to them than the day before. Some seemed to stand taller, and a few touched my arm as they passed, muttering words of thanks.

  “You’d better get used to it,” Mira said, a slow smile bending her full lips.

  “The thanks or last night?” I asked her. Lasser coughed politely, looking away.

  “Both,” she said, and the sun got a little hotter just then.

  14

  Derin was as wide as he was tall, with hands like skillets. He also had a smile wider than the sky, and I liked him immediately.

  “And you say you need armor with a purpose?” He was sketching on a piece of parchment, using charcoal in bold, clear strokes. I saw shoulder armor take shape, then the beginning of a chest piece. He was an expert, there was no doubt about it.

  Scoot watched him, grinning all the while. “Told you he was the best.”

  “Shush, now. We let the product brag, not our lips,” Derin told her, but his smile revealing that she could do no wrong in his eyes, and she knew it.

  “Bye Da. Gotta get you lunch. Want the bird again?” she asked over her shoulder, pelting away as only a kid can run.

  Derin lifted his voice to reach her, never looking up from his work. “Yes. And for our friends.”

  “You don’t have to—” I started to say, but Derin waved me off.

  “She’ll buy you lunch regardless, so I may as well go along with her. She’s more like her mother than I could ever explain,” the big man said to us all, his eyes bright with wonder.

  “Thanks,” I said, looking away as he gathered himself. I could see his wife’s death was still close at hand, and Mira touched his arm in sympathy.

  Lasser entered the conversation smoothly, giving Derin a moment. “I wouldn’t presume to speak for Jack, but I think his armor needs a particular look, not just a purpose.”

  Derin looked up sharply at that, tilting his enormous head. He was a handsome man, in a broad, friendly way, with dark eyes and a square jaw. His hair was cut to black stubble, and when drawing, he scratched absently at a white scar above his left ear. “What purpose might that be?”

  I considered what lay ahead, closing my eyes as I tried to see the future. I was already in the future, but it may as well have been the distant past, given the erratic technology and primitive conditions. That meant things had to protect me as well as send a message that I was here to stay. There was no going back to my old life. I would build my new life here and now, and it started with Derin’s designs.

  “Light. Mobile. Protection of vitals if possible, work in my two blades and a shoulder holster,” I said.

  “You have a gun?” Derin asked.

  “Not yet, but I will,” I told him.

  “Long rifle? Shotgun?” he asked, sketching.

  “Shotgun. Has to work with protecting my shoulders, elbows, knees,” I said.

  “Why those?” he asked, looking up.

  “Because that’s what I’m going to use as weapons,” I said. If I was going to be in hand-to-hand, I didn’t need broken knuckles. Not in this world. My ‘bots were going to get a workout, and I had plans to see just what they could do.

  “Good. Knees, greaves, shoulders. Alright, what do you think of this?” Derin asked. He’d added metal studs to the shoulders, meaning that anyone who attacked me would experience both offense and defense all at once. I nodded my approval at his quick work. He was a master of armor, no doubt.

  “You’re hired. When can you start?” I asked him.

  He looked at a workbench, crowded with articles of armor in various stages of completion. “Three weeks, give or take.”

  “And the cost?” I had to know in advance. I’d run out of Hardheads to kill.

  “Call it four hundred, since Scoot likes you,” he said.

  “Make it five hundred, and start today.” I counted out coins before he could protest, but his smile was broad and full of agreement. He didn’t count the coins, merely sweeping them into a huge hand, then stood and began selecting a hide from the rack behind him. Whatever had given up its skin had been huge, and well armored. It was thick skin, dark and scarred in places. “I’ll be at the House of the Sky when it’s ready. My pleasure doing business with you.” I stuck out my hand, watching it vanish into his. His grip was firm, but controlled, like a fine instrument.

  “For this price, Scoot will deliver. See you in three days at most, but you’ll want to let it cure in the sun each day for an hour. Fair enough?” Derin lifted a thunderous black brow in mock anger.

  “Understood, friend. See you then.” I left him with Lasser and Mira after saying our goodbyes. When we were back in the street, Lasser tugged at my arm.

  “You’ve done that before,” he said. There was a mild accusation in his tone.

  “Once or twice. Where I’m from, negotiating was an occasional thing, but where I served in the Marines, it was a way of life. You take the first offer as an insult, the second as a cruel joke, and then you get to the price. If everyone is unhappy, it’s a good deal.”

  “I see we share the same system of trade,” Lasser said.

  “More or less. Although this is clearly not home,” I found myself saying.

  “Yes, it is,” Mira replied, her voice earnest.

  I stopped, looking around again. “You’re right.”

  “Here we are,” Lasser said. The hotel loomed above, a beacon of civilization in the shouting streets. “The day is young. What’s next?”

  I craned my neck to see if any of Wetterick’s men were visible. If I knew him, he’d be nursing his wounds, but an attack on his part would come at night. He’d learned that the light was no protection for his brand of criminal. “We eat. Then, I have something I need.”

  “Which is? You need only ask,” Lasser said.

  “Guns. Preferably big ones,” I told him.

  Mira smiled, putting a hand on Lasser’s arm. “Let me handle this one. See that road, going west?”

  “To Kassos?” I asked.

  “That’s it. Any guns are on that road. The key is getting someone to sell you one for what’s left over in your bag. Might be tight,” she said.

  I laughed and turned her into the cool of the hotel interior. “Leave the negotiating to me.”

  15

  “Master Jack,” came the whisper. It was past midnight, the stars visible in the patch of sky filling our window. The voice drifted in on the breeze, young and quiet. A kid, and not Scoot—someone I didn’t know.

  Mira stirred, naked, sleeping in a state she hadn’t known for some time. Life in the Empty was hard, and rest was not easy to find when everyone saw you as profit or food. I left the blade under my mattress alone, considering my options.

  I chose the least appealing of all things. I slid out of bed, leaving Mira to roll over, mumbling. Even in the low light, she was magnificent, which did little for my mood as I stalked to the window and stood to one side, looking out and down. Whoever was calling me probably intended no harm. Killers rarely give a courteous warning, no matter what year it is.

  “This better be good,” I said to the night.

  The answer was a small laugh. “My lady will make it so. You are wanted, Master Jack.”

  “Where?” I had my suspicions. Wetterick had been a warmup. It was time for the real business.

  “The House of Silk. She waits for you there,” said the voice.

  “Now?” I asked.

  “If it pleases you. She is ready to receive you.” There was a small clatter below, then the voice began to recede, continuing to speak. “I will be at the main door, Master Jack.”

  “How will I know the house?” I hissed into the dark. I didn’t have a
light, even though the sky was brilliant with stars. Some of the street lamps had guttered out, their work done until tomorrow.

  “Straight east until you smell roses, Master Jack.” I heard running steps, then the night closed in, filled with the odd noises of a town in the throes of sleep.

  “East until Roses. Best directions I’ve ever had,” I muttered. I slipped into my clothes, then left in silence. Mira slept as my mind began to form questions about Lady Silk and what it meant that she reached out. Wetterick had some power, but I suspected that my meeting would reveal things about the post and its people, things that Wetterick could never know because he chose force over persuasion.

  I followed the street to the east, past darkened homes and silent spaces that would fill with noise once the sun rose. After about a city block, I stopped, lifting my nose to the air.

  “I’ll be damned. Roses.” The kid had been telling the truth. Ahead, I saw a single lamp in the double doors of a stone building, the iron gate half open. Stepping forward, the lamp moved, and I saw her silhouette before she became clear in the small circle of golden light.

  “Lady Silk,” I said to the night, and the night answered back.

  “Mister Bowman. I’m glad you came. Not everyone would accept such a hasty invitation. I might even think you were waiting for it,” she said. Her voice matched her name, a silken purr that was low, cultured, and unhurried.

  “I have my manners,” I said.

  “You didn’t use them with that oaf, Wetterick. Such a pity. He’ll have to find other brutes to collect his coins, now that you’ve made him look weak,” she said.

  I could see her now, and her face and voice matched in every possible way. She was of medium height, curvy, with an acre of black curls falling to the tops of her perfect breasts. Her skin was pale, eyes green in the light, and she wore a simple robe of dark linen, stark against her skin. I’ve seen beauty before, and Mira was stunning in ways that most women could only dream of.