Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (4 page)

“Want
to talk about it?” Carl inquired while closely searching his friend’s features.
“Maybe you better. These last months, you’ve reminded me of someone about to go
over the edge.”

“That
bad?”

“I’m
just your average Joe Psychologist,” Carl said with an expressive shrug, “but I
get the sense that if someone poked you with the right needle—boom!”

Jeff
grimaced and nodded. “Like tonight.”

“No,
not like tonight. I agree with George. You showed remarkable restraint.”

The
waiter stopped by with a carafe of coffee. He kept a wary distance from Jeff
while pouring. Taking a long drink, Jeff sat back rubbing his forehead.

“If
showing restraint means that I didn’t kill him, then you’re right.” Shaking his
head, Jeff held his hands up as if framing a picture. “Jeff Friedrick, Cultural
Anthropologist.”

“Yeah,
so?”

“It
was that close. Maybe that’s the only reason I didn’t kill him. I tried to turn
my head off and do him, but my training wouldn’t let me.”

“That’s
serious shit, Jeff.”

“More
than serious. It scares the hell out of me just thinking about it.”

After
a period of silence, Carl said, “And?…”

“Twenty-seven,
Carl. Twenty-seven years old and I don’t have a clue. I used to believe that I
could make life what I wanted it to be by hard work and desire. What a joke.
How do you fit in? What’s the secret? Slinging bullshit? I just can’t make
myself do it. Now all I want is to get away.”

“I
can dig it, but it doesn’t sound like you’re talking about a vacation.”

“No,
not a vacation. I want to disappear for good.”

Carl
whistled and raised his eyebrows. “Anthropology isn’t enough to make the
difference?”

“Maybe
it’s too damn much.” A speculative look settled on Jeff’s face. “While I really
love anthropology, thinking about it now it only seems to be a step along the
way. Something I have to understand before moving on. But to what?” Jeff let
his breath out in a long sigh. “Okay. I’m a specialist in Late Antiquity,
right?”

“You
mean that European mob scene you’ve talked about?” Carl replied with a wicked
grin.

“Yeah,
that’s it,” Jeff responded with a smile tugging at his lips. “About 300 to 700
AD.” A frown creased his forehead. “I was drawn to anthropology like a magnet,
and when I discovered Late Antiquity there was no doubt where my future lay. I
felt like I was coming home! I’ve very nearly memorized every reference I can
get my hands on, yet it’s never enough. Can you believe it? Now I’m into Roman
history and the Middle Ages trying to get more insight. The people, the
history, their manner of warfare—you name it, I’ve studied it. What is it I’m
looking for?”

“I’ve
seen your apartment. Hardly room for a bed with all those holo cubes. Maybe
you’re looking for yourself?”

“Maybe,”
Jeff said doubtfully, “but I don’t think that’s all of it. Sometimes I feel
like I’m studying for my dissertation again; like I’m going to be tested.” Jeff
paused and smiled. “Although Late Antiquity was a brutal period, it was also an
exiting time. So much happening!”

Closing
one eye, Carl pantomimed drawing a bow. “Twang!”

Jeff
threw his hands up and laughed. “Okay, okay. So I’m atavistic.”

“Nah.
Not implying that. We’ve been friends long enough that I know how important
that period is to you.”

“Maybe
it’s too important. It isn’t only that I’m into archery and fencing, or that
I’m absorbed by the peoples of Late Antiquity. Sometimes they seem to be the
only real things in life. Maybe if I put some distance between that stuff and
myself I’d find a way of fitting in. There has to be a point to life somewhere!
God, I hope there is!”

Sitting
back in the booth, Carl stretched mightily. “As far as fitting into the system
goes, who am I to talk? I don’t see anymore hope or purpose in it than you do.
Thing is, biology and chemistry make the difference for me.” Carl smiled
wistfully. “Jeff, if you happen to find a point to life will you let me know?”

“You’re
on the top of all my lists, buddy. Thanks for being there.”

Carl
happened to look at the clock near the door and let out a dismayed whistle.
“Time goes fast when you’re having fun, boyo. Nearly midnight! I have to drop
some reference cubes off at the lab or old Benford will have my skin in the
morning.”

“Go
on without me. It’s only about ten blocks to my apartment. I’ve got to walk
some of this off.”

“You
kidding? I think it’s more like twenty. Man, you know what it’s like out there.
No one walks unless he’s in a friendly crowd and armed. Ride back with me.”

“I
do know what it’s like, but I can’t imagine anything capping that little fling
with Hathwaite. No one is even going to see me.”

“Bullshit,”
Carl shot back. “Those gangs have every square inch staked out. This is crazy.
No, it’s stupid! This is not a good night to walk to your car, much less home.
Damn it, Jeff, you heard the report.”

Jeff
stood up. “I’m walking.”

“I
think this is a very bad decision. You take too many risks. It’s really going
to bite you one of these days.”

Back
at the Ford, Jeff extracted the saber case. Carl started the car and stuck his
head out of the window.

“You
know what I think. Stay alert, huh?” With a wave, he accelerated into the
night.

The
restaurant was located a short distance south of the Lake Washington Ship
Canal. On adding up the distance to his apartment, Jeff had to ruefully agree
with Carl that it was at least twenty blocks.

“You
really are a dumb shit, Friedrick. What are you trying to prove?” Zipping his
windbreaker against the damp cold, Jeff set off at a brisk walk.

He
gave alleyways a wide berth and stayed in deep shadow whenever possible.
However, some sections offered no cover and Jeff felt like a spotlight was on
him. Six or eight blocks along the way he began to relax. Only three cars had
passed, and he had not seen a single person. Even the police sirens were quiet.
As he walked, Jeff insensibly slipped back into brooding over the duel and
where in hell he was going in life.

Some
minutes later a metallic clatter sent him behind shrubbery with a reflexive
lunge. A garbage can lid skidded out of an alley and ground to a halt. Two cats
streaked into view side by side, digging for all they were worth. Jeff began to
shiver but didn’t move.

A
vicious gust whipped by and sent the lid rolling down the sidewalk, drawing his
attention. When Jeff looked back, two shadowy figures had materialized out of
the alley’s blackness. They jogged south, but a voice drifted back, “See you
soon, pilgrim.”

Jeff
deserted the sidewalk and hurried from tree to bush to shrub. “You had to be
stupid one more time. Those bastards are really going to appreciate your need
for a walk while they’re beating your brains out.”

The
night had taken its toll, and Jeff stopped to take a breather huddled in the
shadow of a battered kiosk. Two streetlights were all that remained to give
light, north or south. Two harsh pools of light that revealed nothing except
black puddles of water and the never-ending rain.

“Okay
smart boy,” he muttered, “want to try the park? At least you’ll have cover.”
Jeff stared at the black expanse of Volunteer Park across the street. Trash
eddied around his feet while he weighed options and shivered.

A
particularly cold blast of air made up his mind. Jeff darted across a Tenth
Avenue devoid of life. Vaulting a low fence he dodged into the trees and halted
while trying to recall the park’s layout. It had once been well manicured. With
time and reduced maintenance budgets it had degenerated into small areas of
grass and broken tables surrounded by clumps of trash-clotted fir scrub.

Decided,
Jeff pushed deeper into the park ghosting from tree to tree. Somewhere near a
siren shrieked up the scale and began to warble. Jeff forced himself to remain
still as a police car raced by, lights pulsing. As the siren dopplered
downscale, Jeff felt like his last hope had disappeared north.

Taking
a shaky breath he pushed branches out of the way and ran for the next tree.
Jeff had taken only a few steps when he tripped and fell on top of something
soft. Choking off a scream, he frantically rolled away to his knees.

There
was a dark blur on the ground. It didn’t move. Reaching out, he touched smooth
skin that was cold as marble. Jeff tried to find a pulse in the carotid artery.
Nothing. He explored downward with a trembling hand: large breasts, wide hips,
pants hanging onto an ankle. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered with
something sticky and black.

“Shit!
Oh shit!”

Wiping
his hand on the grass, Jeff threw up with a convulsive heave. The moon found a
rift in the overcast and a cool beam of light revealed the waxen face of a
young woman. She had a terrified expression on her face, and sightless eyes
stared into the night sky. Jeff crouched off at a run dragging the saber case.

He
skirted a dilapidated tower and weed-choked pond near the park’s southern
border before pausing. Breathing heavily, he attempted to sling the case but
the strap had broken. Clutching the case under his arm, Jeff raised his head
above marsh grass and sighted the fence. The strip of grass that bordered it
was free of trees and the street beyond was empty.

Although
the way was clear, abject fear kept him rooted in place. Spurred by thoughts of
his apartment and safety, Jeff sprinted into the open, hurdled the fence, and
darted into the protection of a building on Fifteenth Street. Putting a hand
against the building for support, he threw his head back and took in breath
after shuddering breath.

“Thank
God! I’m almost there!”

Taking
a new grip on the case, he swung around the corner of the building. At that
moment, an indistinct group of people materialized from the darkness of a
nearby building. He whirled around looking for an escape route. His heart
started to thud when he saw more gang members close the circle.

“Oh,
shit! They’ve got me!”

A
dim figure stepped forward from the group in front of him, whispering mirth.
“Looks like you seen a ghost, puke. Somethin’ around here we outta be afraid
of?” Laughter and giggles circled Jeff. “Maybe you met our little sweetie off
there in the park, eh? Ain’t she somethin’? Ya try her out? Should’a. Best
piece of ass they ever was. Now c’mon, tell ol’ Teacher here what ya got in
that case.” The circle drew in tighter.

It
took several moments for Jeff to realize the man thought his saber case was
filled with drugs. He ran his tongue over dry lips and tried to speak. Nothing
came out.

“Looks
to me you just gotta be a runner for those dumb-bastard Leopards, don’t ya
think? How much stash you carrying in that case, man? I think we’re gonna have
to really screw your whole night.” The circle closed with a rush.

As
had happened in the duel with Hathwaite, time and motion slowed to a crawl.
Jeff lunged for what appeared to be an opening. Someone jumped in his path and
he swung the case at the man’s head with all his strength. The impact of wood
splintering against bone shuddered up his arm, accompanied by a wailing shriek.

For
a moment he thought he had made it through the circle, only to have his legs
kicked out from under him. Rolling to his feet still gripping the broken case,
Jeff saw that the circle had closed around him. A dim form lay crumpled beyond
the circle looking like someone had dumped dirty laundry on the sidewalk.

“That
was dumb, asshole, real dumb. You hurt my man, and now you’re gonna get cut
real bad.” The dim figure speaking gestured around. “No guns. I want this to go
slow.”

Teacher
and another gang member shuffled forward in the knife-fighter’s crouch. Breath
coming in quick gasps, Jeff knew that his life was at an end. “No, goddamit!”
He ripped remnants of the case away and drew the saber. The two men halted
abruptly when they saw the saber’s dull gleam, but too late. Jeff vaulted
forward with a hoarse yell.

The
saber flashed down in a cross-body cut that sent Teacher’s right hand spinning
to the sidewalk still clutching the knife. Continuing on, the blade sliced
through clothing and flesh. Billows of intestines exploded from Teacher’s
abdomen as he tumbled to the ground with a wild scream. He thrashed around in
circles, severed arteries in his wrist jetting pulses of blood in random arcs.

Face
set in a snarl, Jeff pivoted to follow the course of his blade. Thrusting
upwards with both hands, he drove the saber through the second man’s sternum
and lungs, two inches of blade springing out his back. A shriek bubbled from
his mouth and he fell to his knees. Jeff put a foot on his chest and wrenched
the saber free. Gang members dashed around in confused patterns and alarmed
curses bounced off walls. Something hit his back and Jeff lurched forward. The
warble of police sirens suddenly crescendoed.

Squad
cars came sliding to a halt and what seemed a flood of uniforms slammed open
doors. Taking to their heels in a mad scramble, the gang evaporated into the
night. Blinded by headlights, Jeff crouched against the wall for support.