Roo'd (16 page)

Tonx cast a glance at Esco, grabbed the knob and went in. Esco shook his head at Fox as he passed, left the door open.

"Well fuck" said Tonx. The kid had a shiv at his throat, his other hand gently but firmly holding Tonx's balls in dirty fingers.

"Ah… " coughed Esco, embarrassed. That was sloppy. The kid could have killed their contact. He swore and gently moved the shiv, pointed at the hallway beyond. The kid disappeared.

"Well fuck again" said Tonx, this time catching sight of Poulpe tied down on the piss-stained mattress with lengths of purple plastic twine. His wrists were purpled and his eyes were screwed up tight, a low guttural chant escaping around the gag. Esco sighed, wrinkled his nose. No wonder the kid with the shiv had been high strung.

Tonx walked over to his colleague, let his hands hang open by his sides in the universal gesture for helplessness.

"Poulpe?" he asked, pulling out the gag.

"Why yes" announced Poulpe in a rough singsong voice. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, his eyebrows darting to the top of his brow. "Tonx?" he asked in a desperate whisper.

"Ye-sss" said Tonx, drawing the word out long, doubtfully.

"Thirty cc's risperidone analog, please" Poulpe whispered, then, "Risperidone? Over the long term risperidone produces ex-trapyramidal symptoms at therapeutic dose. In contrast, amilsulpride is a highly selective antagonist of dopamine D2 receptors… " The words faded on Poulpe's lips, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head.

Esco walked slowly up to the side of the bed, one hand holding his sore elbow, his other hand bringing his cigarette from his lips.

"Any idea what he's talking about?"

"Risperidone's a neuroleptic - an atypical antipsychotic medication" said Tonx.

"Antipsychotic?" asked Esco, one carefully sculpted eyebrow raised. He regarded the remains of his cigarette, carefully inhaled the last of it and dropped it. He ground it into the floor with one foot.

"Wonderful."

Fede woke sprawled out on the couch in the back of the truck. It wasn't moving. He could see Cessus's elbow from where he sat, saw his lenses flash as he turned and muttered something to Marcus. He sat up, wincing at the crick in his back. His head ached, but he no longer felt quite as much like dying. A light rain pattered against the windscreen, the sky a bruised purplish-blue.

"Is it morning?" he called out.

"Night" said Cessus, turning to look back at him. "How you doing?"

Fede unwrapped himself from the fleece and socketed his legs on, wincing at the dark flesh where he'd twisted the socket. The hospital-issues weren't meant for anything athletic, weren't really meant for anything. There were better legs out there, made for actual comfort and running and such. But they didn't look real. They looked mod.

He crawled up to the front of the cab. They were in a rest stop somewhere, darkened forest stretching out on either side of them.

"Where's Cass?" he asked.

"Getting coffee" said Marcus. The big man was quiet, his eyes staring at something beyond the horizon out ahead of him. Cessus coughed once, lightly.

"Ah, Feed. We should talk a little business here" he said. He was watching Marcus.

Fede said nothing.

"We just got our house burnt down. Marcus here lost a lot of equipment. He's got a fight coming in another month and needs training, not to mention his supplements. Me, I don't care so much other than the house. But still… "

A silence filled the cab.

"What're you saying?" asked Fed.

"We need to know what we're getting for putting our asses on the line for you and your brother" said Marcus.

"Oh" said Fed.

"It just seems like we ought to know what the conditions are here. I'm happy to help you out, you know, just for the adventure like, but my man here" Cessus clapped a hand on Marcus's huge biceps "he's got to consider skipping the fight to help you out. And it's better for his career to take the fight."

Fede sat back on his haunches. Something seeped out of him, some strength he didn't realize he had had before.

"All we need to know is the terms of our agreement, Feed" said Marcus. "That's just biz."

"I'll have to ask Tonx" said Fed.

"Sure" said Cessus. "Sure. No problem."

Cass knocked on the truck window.

"Here's your coffee" she said, handing Cessus the tall Styrofoam cups on a press form cardboard tray. It flexed dangerously as Cessus balanced it over his lap, pulling one out for Marcus.

"You want to get one for flyboy here?" asked Cessus, waving a thumb at Fed.

"S'okay" he said. "I'll get it myself."

He crawled past Cessus and shuffled out the door, the cold wind outside waking him up a little. He limped around the front of the truck, the hood shuddering slightly as the door closed behind him.

"Why do you have those old legs?" asked Cass. "You could get a nice pair of carbon-fibers, at least. Maybe a springboard set. I know a guy… "

"I don't want that" interrupted Fed. "These are fine."

He shuffled towards the rest stop, the click-hiss of his ankles clear in the cold air.

Cass shrugged, followed.

There was an ancient cred card reader duct-taped to the top of the table next to the tall silver coffee dispensers. Hand-painted signs advertising the Boy's and Girl's club's latest project, a new baseball field, were propped up around the thin plastic tablecloth. He let the steaming trickle fill his cup, held it in both hands, feeling the heat.

Cass reached over him and grabbed a sugar cube, dropped it in her own cup. Steam curled up and around her face, a dirty smudge lining one nostril. Fede turned and looked out over the forest, at the fading light through the cloud breaks beyond.

He walked down the covered length of the rest stop, under the chap-board walkway to the picnic tables, their legs encased in the cement. Cass's boots made soft scuffling noises behind him. They sat next to each other on the table, hunched over their knees, feet on the warped seat benches. He ran one finger over the smooth pink line where his ancient tennis shoes had worn away the flesh-colored paint on the plastic of his foot.

"They want a cut" said Fed. "Want a contract."

"Huh" said Cass. "Makes sense."

"I guess" said Fed.

"You guess? They just got their house burnt down. Marcus has a fucking dent in his head. Fucking Disney is after our ass. Of course they want a cut, Feed."

He turned at looked at her, admired her big brown eyes, the curve of her cheekbones.

"Fuck you" he said. He didn't raise his voice, didn't yell. He just said it, calmly. She raised one eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"You've got your cut. What do you care?"

"It's my ass, too, Feed. And they're my friends."

"So? Go hang with your friends, then."

She sat back a little, swirled her coffee.

"What's with the attitude?"

"What's with yours? You've been harshing on me since we met. Now all I have is a couple guys I thought I could trust and a brother who's out who-knows-where with big business types trying to kill him. Kill us. I can't go home because they might be tracing me and I can't go anywhere else, either. Now I've got to buy myself some protection with money I don't have and hope we pull something off."

Cass took a long pull on her coffee.

"Okay" she said.

"Okay what?" he asked.

"Okay, it's a tough situation. But those guys are just looking out for themselves same as you would. You can't blame them for that. It doesn't mean they don't like you."

He rolled the coffee cup in his hands, felt its half-empty weight. He tossed it into a garbage can.

"Whatever" he mumbled.

"I miss him too, Feed" said Cass. Her dark hair drew across her face in the breeze, the cold air prickling the back of his neck down his collar.

She stood up. "C'mon. If we're going to do anything we need to get you coding."

She tossed her coffee in the big garbage can next to the table, stopped and waited a moment on the path.

"Come on, it's fucking cold out here."

They walked back to the truck, Cessus jumping out of the passenger side to let them in.

"Got good news, folks" he said. "Tonx called while you were out, got himself a secured comm. He's okay despite the mouse's best attempts and we've discussed terms. Feed, copies are on your comm if you'd like to look at them - nothing's official until you sign off. If they're okay we've got a new target where we're going to meet up with Tonx and get ourselves some data to play with."

Cass grunted from the back seat, pulled the blanket over herself.

Fede pulled his gogs on, signed in and scanned the new files. It made no sense whatsoever to him, obtuse legalese sprinkled with LPJ, Local Private Jargon certified legal for the participants. The contract would act to shield them from each other should they get caught breaking international laws - would tie their lawyer's hands from laying the blame in one individual in the group. It would also provide the illusion of uncertainty that what they were doing was against the law, and hopefully give them some wiggle room in an international court. If they made it work their results ought to be worth enough money to leverage the contract into some kind of legally protected status under one of the corporate states. It would also guarantee everyone their fair share of the profits, if there were any. He punched in his key string and zipped the document, looked on the local PAN and dropped it onto Cessus's comm.

"Thanks man" said Cessus. "Just a formality, you know?"

"No hard feelings, Feed" rumbled Marcus. He reached across himself with one huge hand, folded it over Fed's own in a street grip, thumbs crossed. "I'll be with you until we meet up with Tonx. We'll see what comes after that."

He turned back and fired up the engine, pulled the seat belt taut and clicked it in place.

"Who knows" he said, dark eyes glimmering, "maybe we'll get to have more fun together yet."

He and Cessus started chuckling.

They drove.

"Motherfuckers" swore Tonx. "Slapping me with a fucking contract in the middle of a fucking deal."

"Trouble?" asked Esco.

"Friends" said Tonx. "Don't do business with friends."

"Noted" said Esco.

"You got any chem boxes I can mix with around here?" Tonx asked.

"Doubt it. We could check with the owner. You ought to meet him in any case, before we try to move the package."

"Right" said Tonx. "Good idea. Let me pull this shit out of my face first."

Tonx's bag had been abandoned in his escape from Austin, so he just pushed the studs out with his tongue and unscrewed them, tossing the hair-thin posts on the table after them. He could get another set anywhere.

"These not your style?" asked Esco, lighting another cigarette off the butt of the previous. Poulpe had quieted some after his small speech, for which they were both grateful, and now he just mumbled softly.

"I mod for a living. You wear what the locals expect, sometimes. I've got other mods I keep permanent." Tonx glanced up at Esco, nodded briefly at him while bending over to pick up a dropped white stud. "Nice face work, by the way. Good job on the nose."

Esco nodded briefly. "Thank you. I'm Puerto Rican, had a lot of mongoloid features when I started."

"Your primary model an Escobar or a Ricardo?"

"Ricardo, though to be honest I did a lot of the composites myself. This kind of work you can't be too similar or it ruins the effect, you know?"

"Totally" agreed Tonx. "Okay, I think I'm ready. Hopefully my ride hasn't fucked the place over yet."

The room shook briefly and the two men threw out their arms to balance themselves, shared a quick glance before scrambling for the door.

"THIS PSYCHO BITCH YOURS?" asked Fox in its finest Kraftwerk mechanoid voice. Red beams were streaming from its eyeholes to balance on Nancy's pert button nose in the junction of the hall.

"Hey flyboy, you want to turn off your puppy there?" she called. "There's some bad news downstairs I'd love to tell ya'll about."

"Cut it" said Esco, tapping Fox on the head. He muttered something else in deep Florida spanglish slang as Tonx pushed past him, then followed.

"What up?" Tonx asked.

"CAF" said Nancy. "Corporate Armed Forces, all done up in red and black. Got Mickey Mouse on their uniforms, funniest shit I ever seen."

Tonx swore loudly and pushed past her towards the door at the top of the stair. Below was madness. CAFs were pushing through the door sewing beanbag guns and audio-scramblers into the crowd in front of them. Behind the front line the mob was throwing beer bottles, taking pot shots with pistols and throwing knives. The music was still pulsing, wild street beats thrashing along with the mob.

"How do we get out of here?" he yelled at Esco. The taller man pointed at the stage on the far end of the hall, cigarette trembling between two fingers.

"There's our host. You want to get out of here alive that's the only way I can think of. Baby scanned the joint when we first got here; there's an underground garage but the rest is surroundable as fuck. It's faradayed so they won't scan in, but we only got a little time."

Tonx turned to Nancy.

"Nancy, can you do me a favor?"

Nancy smiled big as a house.

"What I can do you for?" she asked, her words a drawl.

"Don't let anyone down this hall unless it's us. Sound good?"

"Sounds boring. Promise you won't be long, now."

"Promise. Esco, let's go."

Tonx turned and led the way through the door and into the fury beyond, taking the steps two at a time. As they hit the landing he grabbed Esco and held his head close to his ear.

"Your guy can keep an eye on her too, can't he?" he shouted. Esco nodded. He'd already comm'd Baby as they started down the steps. They were well behind the mob's edge as they stepped out onto the floor but the crowd was getting wilder, no exits available. Tonx started forward, sticking as close to the wall opposite the entrance as possible.

About ten meters into the crowd Esco saw someone big fall back, jostle into Tonx and turn. It was a street kid, jacked up huge with cheap bodshop steroids, and he grabbed Tonx's wrist with one hand while shoving a long thin blade at his head with the other. Tonx was pulled forward like a drunk date at the prom, nowhere to go but dead. Esco leapt forward too late, saw the blade slide past Tonx's ear, ruffling his hair as the smaller man drove his forehead into the street kid's nose. The punk's head bounced like a beach ball and he staggered back on his heels. He'd dropped the knife, and one arm flew out for balance as he fell. Esco stopped a step away as Tonx gently laid a hand on the guy's knuckles where they gripped his wrist and pressed slightly. The kid reversed direction and dove for the floor face first, taking a detour to smash his bloody nose into Tonx's waiting knee.

Esco was surprised, but the guy's scream was clear as day over the music, and he didn't get up. He stepped over him as he followed Tonx forward, not sure what he'd just seen. Weird motherfucking ghost indeed, thought Esco.

They continued forward at a rapid jog, fighting off a few stragglers as they went. There wasn't much heart in it, though; the real fighting was up front and those who wanted to run had already looked for exits in the back. The smell of smoke wafted over the stench of sweat and fear, gunfire punctuating the music. The crowd surged toward the entrance again and Esco and Tonx ran forward as fast they could in the dim light, trying to make time while there was space. Esco noticed that the tubes overhead were drained, empty and dim. He wondered where the jellyfish were.

They had almost reached the stage when they saw the first CAF. Dressed in full-body riot gear the man was covered in black and red piping, the light flashing off the chromed knuckles of his gloves. The Mickey Mouse logo glared skull-white on the back of his helmet. Tonx skidded to a halt, Esco plowing into him as the man stepped onto the stage and turned back towards them. His helmet fit his face perfectly, reflective lenses set over his eyes printed with the flat white-and-black gaze of the mouse. He stiffened, suddenly, seeing Tonx, and raised his slim black rifle before a beer bottle careened off his head, snapping his head back.

Tonx didn't wait. He jumped forward, rolled onto the stage and to his feet behind him. The soldier grabbed his helmet in his hands, one eye shattered as Esco shoved him off the stage and into the crowd.

Esco leapt for the stage on the surge of the crowd, thrown almost into the pit by the sudden momentum. Tonx grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, yelling something he couldn't hear over the pandemonium. There was a loud whoosh, and the wall facing the parking lot peeled upwards in hot flame, yellowed light splashing onto the crowd. The fire leapt higher as a staggered row of mice appeared silhouetted against the burning wall, stubby backpacks pouring fire up it and out into the crowd. The mob pulled back.

"Where is he?" screamed Tonx in Esco's ear. Esco looked around. The couch where he had sat not long ago was where he'd left it, but the stage was deserted. He nodded towards the rear of the stage and pulled Tonx after him, keeping his head bent low against the thin LED spots vibrating overhead.

They found Fuentes right away. His throat was slit, his head bent sideway where he had slumped to the stage. One of the hyena owners had gone for him, and now his back opened in a meaty pulp where Fuentes had shot him with some sort of high-caliber handgun. His body was draped elegantly over Fuentes's hip. An angry chattering scream filtered up from the pit and Tonx stared down below.

Esco pulled Fuentes out from under his killer and started going through the body's pockets. As he did so Tonx produced a long, pale-white ceramic blade from one pocket and started hacking the black man's arm off.

"What are you doing?" screamed Esco, rolling Fuentes's body over to get at his wallet. He found what he was after, a pale yellow card key appearing between his fingers. He smiled. "Come on!"

"… pheromones" he heard Tonx say, blood-sticky fingers peeling dark skin down the arm like casing off a sausage. The fingers inverted, raw meat covering bones, the skin sticking at the fingernails. Esco's stomach pressed against his throat. But Tonx had found what he was after, apparently, taking the skin and slicing it against the wood of the stage to produce a perforated plastic strip. It looked like half a wiffle-ball, and a thick musky stench hit Esco as Tonx held it up. The stage shuddered as the crowd hit it again, surging back from the CAFs as the wave of chemical flames rolled towards them.

"Help me" yelled Tonx, kicking the mutilated body out of the way and pulling on the couch. He pulled one end towards the pit, got behind it. Esco leaned in, pushed until the couch slid in end-first. For a moment he thought it would topple, but it stuck, fell back against the edge. The first hyena was up and out before Esco'd had a chance to stand, a high-pitched scream like a baby girl peeling out of its lips. It leapt straight for Tonx, and fell, its eyes wheeling back wide and white in its head. Esco thought at first it had been shot, but then it rolled, belly up, nose waving in the air towards the flat sheet of plastic in Tonx's hand. Tonx tossed it to Esco, mimed rubbing his hands with it, and the second hyena bounced up the couch. It caught a hold of Esco's pants before the smell hit it, nervously backing away and tearing a long rent in his left pant-leg as it went.

Tonx snapped the chain into the carabineers on the hyena's collars. They came to their feet, ears back, eyes averted as he led them.

"Relax" he yelled at Esco. "You're an alpha now - try to act like it. Come on!"

There were stairs on the back of the stage and Tonx led the way, the two animals dwarfing him like wolves would a child. Esco noticed their ears twitching and darting, the way their noses led them, and figured that whatever the smell was it wasn't affecting their fighting senses any. They were huge animals, and Tonx kept them in check with sweeping yanks on their chains. The ghost had balls, thought Esco.

The crowd had thickened substantially, almost flattening against the back wall as it tried to escape the flames and rubber bullets. The sound of a baby crying suddenly turned into a deafening wail as a sonic weapon rolled over them. Nausea followed and people nearer the CAFs fell to their feet in a wave, their balance destroyed. The hyenas sowed chaos, yanking Tonx forward and pulling back, going for people's legs every time, pausing only to dart over arms and past knives to crush throats. They'd been trained to do this, Esco realized, raised from pups to gnaw through people like termites through wood. They didn't once leap up, leaving themselves open to kicks or weapons held in spindly arms the way a dog would. They made good time.

It was insanity. Even sticking to Tonx he almost got swept to the ground again and again, hands grabbing and crap flying through the air all around them. He was surprised when the stairs loomed ahead of them, surprised again when he realized there were people clinging to it, defending their position with broken bottles and knives. Tonx hesitated and the crowd suddenly pulled away. The hyenas lunged forward, sensing Tonx's direction.

The first guy almost gutted Esco, falling over the hyena and rolling down Tonx's back, his kitchen blade flashed by Esco's ribs as he took a header into the stair. The next two kept their bottle and knife in front of them, the longhaired freak on the wall side bracing his feet to stand on the railing. Esco grabbed Tonx's shoulders and kicked out the railing on the outside, the old wood buckling away with a snap that shook the steps. Both of the freaks toppled and the hyenas were on them, flinging their bodies aside. The last guy threw his bottle and leapt into the crowd below, the ragged glass catching the lead hyena in the face. It screamed as blood gushed, shaking its head and pawing at the wound. A bright light fell on them, turned everything white. Wood splinters slapped Tonx's face as a bullet shattered a board next to his head. He jumped for the top of the stairs, dropping the chain in his haste, Esco close behind.

They made it up and fell through the door, blood and musk and terror, a mad bundle of fur and limbs, the chain wrapped over Esco's arm and around Tonx's legs.

"The door!" Tonx screamed as Esco kicked it shut, sparks flying as bullets glanced off its metal plating and down the hall. Tonx struggled to his feet, kicking free of the chain. He still had the plastic sheet in his hand, and looking down he saw one hyena sitting placidly at his feet, head cocked, tongue lolling. The chain led from its neck down over Esco, who pulled free from it, and to the still-twitching carcass of the other.

"Caught plenty of bullets" Esco observed of the dead animal, dusting off his jacket and flicking it into place.

"Doggies!" said Nancy. She was seated on a neat stack of three dead men and was wearing a fancy black cowboy hat, silver studs lining its brim. Her curly red hair descending from it rear in a wave. She had her long legs crossed and a thin combat knife hung loosely in one hand. Her jacket was peeled down and tied around her waist, the sleeves of her flowered blouse torn away to reveal long thin patchwork arms. They were too long for her body, Tonx noticed, wondering how much of them, if any, were hers. "You boys get what you were after?"

"Maybe" said Tonx. The hyena's ears were back, teeth bared at Nancy. It had turned towards her when Tonx did, and now slowly advanced. "Uh, here. Hold this, Nancy."

He tossed the plastic sheet to her and she caught it deftly in one long hand, her eyes never leaving Tonx's.

"Perfume?" she asked. "S'nasty."

"No. Pheromones. The thing's conditioned to them. Come on" he said, handing her the chain. She pulled hard and the hyena slid on the pool of blood on the floor towards her. Esco stepped delicately past, smiling politely as he did so.

Fox was still stationed by the door, eyes flashing through a red-green scanning sequence. Tonx jogged through to Poulpe, cutting the twine and rolling the filthy bed sheets over him.

"Help me get him up" he panted at Esco, grabbing his legs. "Where are we going?"