On My Way to Paradise (31 page)

Abriara tried to swerve away, and I was thrown off
balance and began tumbling backward. A turret gunner fired into me,
and the searing plasma burst through my armor and tore into my
chest. I fell back and instead of hitting ground, I jacked out.

Perfecto and Mavro were already out, since they were
instantaneous kills, and they stood beside the holo, studying it.
Those still jacked into the simulation sat limply in their chairs,
totally oblivious to their surroundings. Their armor reminded me of
cocoons, and I saw them as some type of pupae trapped in stasis,
dreaming of the day when they’d metamorphose into butterflies.
No, not butterflies
—I thought.
Something that dreams of
death—dragonflies
.

Kaigo sat on his dais, gazing at the two hovercrafts
flitting side by side: Two big men had jumped onto our hovercraft.
One ripped Zavala’s helmet off and began beating Zavala to death.
The second pulled Abriara from her driver’s seat. Abriara shrieked
and cursed, and Zavala’s face sounded as if it were a soft fruit
someone was pummeling.

The two craft approached a baobab tree in slow
motion, and the driverless craft slid into it, crumpling. All the
people—both the tiny dead bodies that represented us and those
still alive—spilled from our mangled hovercraft like rag dolls
while the enemy flitted past then swung back to meet them. Abriara
crawled several paces then tried to stand, but her leg trailed at
an odd angle. One of the enemy jumped up and tackled her. They
struggled on the ground. The other "compadre" sat up and held his
head for a moment then crawled back to Zavala and began thumping
him again. I could think of only one man who might hate us enough
to attack us in the simulator.

Perfecto spoke the name: "Lucío. Now I see why you
did not Quest for us after we left the weight room, mamón." And I
knew he was right. Lucío had planned this moment for weeks.

Zavala jacked out of the simulator, a bit groggy. He
took off his helmet and hopped off the model hovercraft and strode
over to us through the holographic landscape like a giant walking
over a desert, stepping over the tiny representations of two
Yabajin craft approaching from the far side of the room, the
Yabajin in their red combat armor.

Lucío and his men reached the wreck under the baobab
and jumped from their hovercraft. Lucío said, "Good! Good! Strip
that bitch Abriara and start fucking her. I want everyone to get a
turn. Where’s Mavro?" Lucío separated from the rest of the group
and began searching among the fallen bodies, kicking aside our
sprawled limbs. His four men circled Abriara. She couldn’t stand,
but raised herself to one knee; she swung at one of them, and he
swore at her. Someone pushed her from behind, tripping her, then
pinned her to the ground and began ripping off her armor. She
didn’t scream or go into hysterics. She just grunted and breathed
heavily as she struggled to keep herself dressed and fend them
off.

Perfecto looked up at Kaigo and said, "Where are
they?"

Kaigo didn’t say anything at first, then he reached
up and thumbed the subdural pressor switch under his ear and
engaged his comlink. He began speaking in Japanese.

Lucío found Mavro’s dead body among the wreckage. He
pulled off Mavro’s helmet and checked his face to be sure of
Mavro’s identity, then stripped the lower half of the body and
threw Mavro on the ground, face-down, half naked. Lucío opened his
own codpiece.

"Mavro, I wish you were jacked in to the simulator! I
wanted to take you from behind, like this, and hear you scream!"
Then he mounted the corpse and began rhythmically grinding against
it.

Lucío’s men finished stripping Abriara, then a big
chimera opened his codpiece and crawled on top of her. She
struggled to fight them off. She didn’t beg or curse or scream. The
chimera moved on top of her, and I caught a glimpse of her face. I
viewed it from above, like God watching from a cloud, and even from
there I could see in her something I’d never expected to see in a
woman so strong—a pale face with pleading eyes and a down-turned
mouth, the face of a person totally demolished and empty of hope.
The face of someone in a Greek hell, destined to be eternally
raped.

Perfecto jumped up to our hovercraft and ripped the
lead to the cranial jack from the socket at the base of Abriara’s
skull. She crumpled to the floor and brought her knees up even with
her chin. He gently tried to remove her helmet, and she slapped his
hand away.

Down on the floor the simulation of Abriara went
limp. The Yabajin were nearly on Lucío’s men. They wouldn’t spend
more than another minute jacked into the simulator.

Kaigo disengaged his comlink. "They are in battle
room 79, on level six."

I leapt toward the door and the others followed, none
of us taking time to strip out of our battle gear.

"Wait!" Kaigo shouted. I stopped and looked at him.
He lowered his head and looked at the holo where Lucío and his men
humped the limp replicas of my compadres. He hissed through his
teeth, "Saaahhh," and ran his hand over his brow. "Every man is
important to our fight on Baker," he said. "I do not want you
taking their lives. You should not be enemies." He wrung his hands
for a moment. "You must put aside your differences until you
vanquish your common enemy. There will be time for vengeance."

Mavro glared at him, the fine muscles in his face
swelling from rage. "Honor demands vengeance now!" he said, voicing
my thoughts, and I rushed out of the room.

"Do not kill them! I order you!" Kaigo shouted behind
us.

I didn’t listen to him. Only one set of footsteps
followed me. I turned and saw Mavro, grim and determined.

I ran as fast as I could, working hard in the heavy
gravity to stay ahead of him, to be first. It was like rushing
through a dream—the heavy breathing, the sound of the teflex battle
armor snapping against the floors, the feeling of power and wrath.
We stepped in unison without thought, rushing toward Lucío and his
men past people in the corridor who flattened against the walls,
removing themselves from our path, past an open door that issued
forth the sweet smell of cigar smoke, a man in a silver and red
kimono laughed loudly from within the room. I stripped off my
arm-pieces and pulled out a knife. I felt remarkably calm. It would
be like fighting in the simulator. I would go, and I’d be the first
to die, and it would all be like this, like passing through a
dream.

I felt as if I were stepping into another world, the
world where the ghost of Flaco would become flesh. There should be
ghosts with me, I thought, and distantly I felt as if they followed
at my arm. I quickened my step. I heard a rattling noise, and
didn’t bother to look behind me. My teeth had begun to chatter,
just as they’d done when I killed Arish. We swept down the hall,
reached the ladder.

From behind, Perfecto yelled, "Wait, I’m coming!" but
we didn’t wait. I ignored the rungs and just grabbed the outside
bars and let myself slide three levels, occasionally gripping
tightly to slow my descent.

When I hit level six Mavro said, "Take corridor four
and turn right at the end." I followed his instructions and when I
came to the corner men in dark blue were rushing around the curve
of the hall before us—three samurai with swords drawn, and behind
them some Latin Americans. I knew Kaigo had warned them to stop us,
but I saw a sign above a door that said "Battle room 79" and knew
they were too late. I headed into the alcove.

As I reached the door it opened. I saw a flash of the
silver and red kimono of a sergeant.

"Didn’t anyone ever tell you to never hit a woman?" I
yelled, thinking it a crazy thing to say even as I said it.

Lucío had been looking at the floor as he exited, and
his gaze swept up and his mouth opened in surprise. My crystal
knife slashed through his left eye, down across his nose, and to
his jaw. The cut was deep. He seemed to collapse backward and
flecks of blood splashed on me. I was surprised at how easy it was.
The blade cut through flesh and even part of the skull as easily as
if I’d sliced through cake. Someone behind Lucío shouted, "Jesus
Christ!" and tried to pull him back to safety.

Lucío instantly lurched forward, leapt, and kicked my
chest, hitting my upper abdomen, punching air out of me. I
staggered and was suddenly cognizant of Perfecto rushing up behind
me. He slapped me in the head, knocking me out of harm’s way with
more enthusiasm than was necessary.

 I reeled and the corridor lights seemed to
become very bright for a moment and I found myself sitting on the
floor shaking my head, trying to keep it from spinning.

Perfecto had a bloody lip, and was standing over me.
I must have fainted for a second. Two samurai had interposed
themselves between us and Lucío’s men, and both samurai had their
swords drawn.

In the dark battle room Lucío’s friends were trying
to hold him upright. One of them said to Lucío, "Stay still, amigo.
He cut you bad! You are hurt bad!"

But Lucío struggled against them, trying to throw
himself at us shouting, "Come here, you whore! Let me go! I’m going
to kill that old fucker!" and he struggled with his friends.

I realized he was yelling at me because I’d cut him,
and I tried to stand up too fast and my head spun. "I’d be happy to
see you try!" I shouted.

Mavro, standing behind me, said, "Get away from here,
Angelo! He’s crazy! The blood of the conquistadores runs strong in
that one!" His tone held a note of awe or fear. I turned and looked
at him. His eyes were very cold, calculating. The lights shone on
his silver tears.

I lunged at Lucío, not because I was going to attack
him, but because I wanted to scream in his face. Perfecto grabbed
me and I shouted, "The blood of the conquistadores runs strong in
me, too,
mamón
!"

"You crazy!" Lucío shouted. I felt several hands
grappling with my arms at once, and Perfecto and Mavro tugged me
back into the hall and started retreating. Lucío shouted, "I’m
going to kill you and fuck your woman! You’re a dead man! You’re a
dead man! You’re a dead man!"

I yelled, "Ah, go fuck your mother!" and stepped back
a couple of paces, then found that I hadn’t yet recovered my
balance, for I tripped over my own feet.

Perfecto helped me up and we trotted back up to our
battle room. The only sounds were the swish of our clothes and the
heavy breathing.

I turned to Mavro. "Why did you tell me to get away
from Lucío?"

"He was crazy. It isn’t good to fight someone in his
condition. You could have cut his throat, and he’d keep ripping you
apart for five minutes before he’d realize he was dead. It’s better
to let his blood cool. He’ll be easier to kill, then."

"I’m sorry we lost your knife," Perfecto said.

I looked down and realized I was no longer holding my
crystal knife. "Where is it?"

"The samurai picked it up. However, they didn’t look
up your other sleeve."

He was right. I could still feel the knife strapped
to my right wrist. But I felt a strong sense of loss. That knife
had been beautiful.

When we reached our battle room Kaigo was waiting. He
glared at us and spoke to someone on comlink. "They’re here," he
said. Abriara was sitting up in her driver’s seat, and Zavala sat
next to her, one hand extended as if to touch her, to offer
comfort, yet he didn’t touch her. Abriara’s helmet was off. Her
face was washed out. Troubled. The webs of silver in her eyes
seemed to have expanded in the last few moments until there was
nothing human left in them.

Mavro slapped me on the back and boasted, "What a
surprise! You should have seen don Angelo here! He swung that knife
without the slightest concern for Lucío’s health or well-being! And
he ended up nearly slicing Lucío’s head off. It was wonderful! Look
at the blood on him. You’d think he’d just butchered a hog."

Mavro thought it was all very funny. I looked at my
battle armor and saw that it was indeed spattered with blood.

Abriara stared at me strangely, as if about to speak,
but changed her mind.

Kaigo shouted, "Get down here! On your knees!" He
drew his sword and pointed to the floor with it. We cautiously
walked to the dais, keeping our eyes to the ground, and knelt
before Master Kaigo. He stared at us for a long time.

Perfecto understood the samurai far better than any
of us did. He laid his face on the floor and shouted, "Forgive
them, Master, they acted in the heat of their anger."

Kaigo hissed through his teeth, then asked calmly,
"What have they done?"

"They attacked Lucío and slashed his face—but
remembered your orders and didn’t kill him."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Kaigo watched us.
He said, "You should have thought ahead. You must think before you
act."

"But ... you’ve taught us that there must not be the
breadth of a hair between the thought and the act," Mavro said.
"You’ve taught us well."

Kaigo shouted in Japanese and the microspeaker on his
collar came to life. "You acted irresponsibly by attacking in an
untimely fashion. What could you be thinking? Where is your
honor?"

It seemed a strange question. I couldn’t see how we’d
dishonored ourselves by attacking Lucío.

Mavro said, "I would have avenged my honor if I had
killed them!"

"But you would dishonor your employer by killing
these men in an untimely fashion!" Kaigo shouted. Then he calmed
himself and said in a softer tone, as if reasoning with friends,
"Motoki Corporation needs these men alive,
ne
? What could
you have been thinking? If you avenge your honor upon these men
now, will you then commit seppuku to redeem yourselves? This cannot
be so! If you kill them now and die now by your own hands, you will
take ten lives from Motoki Corporation. You would be permanently
shamed. You could not fulfill your obligation to the
corporation!