Warp World (26 page)

Seg reeled back a step. “That’s …” He struggled to find a word. “Insane. We need to find out what’s happening.”

“What’s happening is someone has sent in Artus Certine, one of the World’s most infamous facilitators, to represent three common raiders who would otherwise have been written off as a joke. What’s happening is that someone wants to punish you. Facilitator Certine has demanded financial compensation, a rather large sum, and immediate destruction of your caj. The pilot will likely end up grafted and sent on to somewhere unpleasant. You may also face charges, if negligence can be proven.”

Seg’s shoulders lifted defiantly, certain of who was behind this punishment. “Are you prepared to fight this?”

“I already have, but I need your agreement. I’ve been briefed on your circumstances. You won’t like the deal I’ve facilitated, but you must understand it is the very best you can hope for.” Agudo’s small lips came together as if to suggest they would not open for any negotiation.

Seg looked around, conscious of the stares and the press of the crowd. “We should discuss this somewhere more private.”

Agudo nodded and then, without a word, led him through the crowd to a quiet alcove around the side of the stone building.

“You will have to pay compensation. However, they will concede to a five-day grace period to get your finances in order. They are in order, I assume?”

“I will have sufficient finances within that timeframe,” he said. Fismar would have to wait for his supplies a little longer.

“They also want your caj grafted.”

His mouth fell open, the bottom lip dropping in slow motion. “No. Secure her release with a promise of grafting, if necessary. I will handle matters from there.”

Facilitator Agudo smiled and raised a hand. “Their official document only specifies a control device.” When Seg stared, uncomprehending, she added, “An amp collar, such as the one the wardens issued upon capture, would qualify as a control device.”

He put his hand against the wall and leaned forward to rub his eyes with his other hand. “All that has to be done is to put the collar on her long enough to get her home. Good work.”

“No, Theorist, that is not all,” Facilitator Agudo said, and paused. When she spoke again, her tone was softer. “She will be taken for processing, immediately. After that, the collar must remain on permanently; there will be an alarm connected to the Warden Monitoring Board to ensure this. You must demonstrate that she is firmly under control at all times. One transgression and—”

“
Processing
? That’s at the discretion of the owner. Their facilitator specifically insisted on this?”

“Specifically,” Agudo said. “As they have also specified who is to carry out the processing: Merz Gressam.”

“Who?”

“A specialist. Gressam deals almost exclusively with the Houses Major, top tier corporations, CWA Directorates, People of status. He offers one-on-one processing, complete behavioral modification, results guaranteed. Whatever the reasons for sending your caj to Gressam, they are apparently worth the exorbitant cost of his services. All these terms are non-negotiable. It is this or destruction. You have no other options here. Now, as regards the pilot—”

“Shan’s one of my people.” His voice was as hollow as the rest of him in that moment. “Whatever her circumstances, extract her from them.”

“I believe that is her intention. She practically started a riot in there demanding to speak to you. Quite the handful, that one.”

“Take me to her. Let’s get this sorted out before any more damage is done.”

Agudo stepped closer to Seg and glanced briefly over her shoulder before she spoke in a near-whisper, “Remember, once we step inside, you will be monitored. Voice and vis. Everywhere. Stay quiet, stay calm. Speak to the pilot, by all means, but guard your words. After that, until the deal is signed, I do the talking. Do not give them any reason to withdraw this agreement. You will be allowed to see your caj.” She held up a hand to stop any questions. “Briefly. Before she is taken to processing, and only to confirm that there has been no damage. Standard procedure. But you
must
treat her as caj, I cannot stress the importance of this strongly enough. If Certine has reason to believe you are a negligent owner and your caj poses a threat, he will seek to revoke the agreement and destroy her. She is caj. Property. She will assume the retyel, she will obey you. You cannot deviate from this. Do you understand?”

He gritted his teeth hard enough to hear them grinding, felt them click against each other. “I understand. Let’s do what we have to do.”

Fismar surveyed the area surrounding the warehouse, at ground level. During his quick trip to the roof, he had eyeballed over seventy raiders, set in a perimeter around the building, waiting for—what? They had arrived, aimed their guns at the warehouse, and then done nothing.

Inside, his people were dispersed throughout the building, armed with their sefts. If the raiders came in, the Kenda might cut up a few, but there was no doubt it would be a one-sided slaughter.

In lieu of better options, he was going to talk. There was only one man who could be running this show. He stepped out onto the street, into the fields of fire, and felt the hairs on his arms prickle up. One part of his mind ran a continuous feed of the situation in analysis, while another plotted what he was going to say. He put a slight swagger into his walk, contempt for the weapons trained on him.

When he neared the raiders’ perimeter, he put his hands on his hips. “PEGNO! Quit hiding and get out here!”

There was a lull, punctuated only by the ever-present wind blowing through the streets of the Old Town. Then, a head appeared, clad in a helmet, ready for battle.

“Should have taken the deal, Korth,” Pegno called out.

“Seeing how you lead your troops doesn’t inspire a man to sign up, I guess. Why the wait? Got a caj shield you like to skulk behind that hasn’t showed up?” Fismar crossed his arms.

“Some stones you got there.” Pegno laughed. “Sorry we couldn’t talk sense into you. Just waiting on orders, that’s all. Go on back in and give your caj a kiss goodbye. Soon as the signal’s blue, my troopers are going to clean house. Eraranat’s crossed the line this time.”

Fismar cracked his knuckles and swung his arms to loosen them up. “Please, just promise you’ll come in with your teams. That’s all I’m asking, Pegno. I
really
want to see you in there.” With that, he turned and walked back toward the building.

Long habit allowed him to maintain a steady pace, even though he could almost feel the scopes and sights on his back. Once he had made it back to the warehouse without being riddled with spines, he snorted at the troops outside. Morons, they had all moved their sights to him instead of staying in their fields.

“They really coulda used me.” Without looking up, he called out in a loud voice, “Back in position, Tirnich, or your whole squad’s running doubles tonight.”

“Yes, Training Lieutenant.” Tirnich scampered down off a stack of crates—the perch from which he had been staring out through the hole in the thin, filmy line of small windows. He climbed down the ladder and jogged to Fismar, unable, as always, to disguise what he was feeling. “I saw a bunch of soldiers out there. Are we in trouble?”

“Something’s going on somewhere else,” Fismar said. “And if that something sends ’em in, we’ll fight. If it doesn’t, we’ll get back to work. Were you expecting to get out of this line of work alive?”

“I hoped so, Training Lieutenant. Actually, I hadn’t thought much on it,” Tirnich said.

Fismar raised a finger. “And don’t start thinking now. Never takes you anywhere good. Get back to your squad and stay ready, trooper.”

Tirnich nodded. His face was full of the kind of boyish earnestness and loyalty Fismar had never known in his own youth. “Quick as three, Training Lieutenant!”

Shan rubbed her palms against the table of the small, brightly lit interrogation room. The wardens had refused to answer her questions as they pulled her out of the holding area. They had also refused to intervene when the large woman next to her, half-cooked on low grade Havoc, arms a roadmap of old scars, had decided to unleash some pent up energy by pummeling Shan’s face.

She passed a hand over her swollen cheek and split lip. Her palms were soaked with sweat.

“Karg, karg, karg.” She looked up, one eye squinted, at the places she knew the hidden viscams would be mounted.

What now? Was this the part where they dragged her off and stuck the metal in her? She touched her neck where the graft would go, then lowered her forehead to the table.

Eraranat wasn’t coming to save her. If anything, he would be the first to send her to the ponds if he believed those bastards who said she had stolen his caj.

“I’m an idiot.” She wrapped her hands around the back of her head.

“What happened?”

Shan’s head jerked up at the sound of Seg’s voice. She had missed the light hiss of the door opening. In a few quick steps he stood across from her, at the opposite end of the table. He looked as bad as she felt. Tired. And something else.

“Your caj went for a walk. Got into some trouble, I intervened. I didn’t steal her, you know that’s a load of shit, right?”

She was pleased to see him nod. And he wasn’t yelling, which inspired the faintest flicker of hope.

“What’s this business with the MRRC violation?” he asked.

Shan bit her lip instinctively, then winced. She thought about the invisible recording devices. If she was going to sell this, she would have to switch gears.

“I was in the mood for a ride.” She rose out of the chair and sauntered over to Seg’s side of the table. “Wanted some company and your caj was stuck in the RQ with no place to go.” She shrugged, reached her hand into the inside pocket of her flight suit and pretended to scratch as she palmed the digifilm hidden there. “Gets boring flying Stormwatch, you know? Thought I’d do some sightseeing.”

“I was led to believe this conversation was of some importance.” Seg’s already creased brow folded even further. He pushed past her toward the exit.

“Whoa, what the karg?” She grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and tugged him back toward her, surreptitiously dropping the film into his pocket as she did. “We were just sightseeing. Interesting stuff out in the wasteland, believe it or not. Besides, it’s not like I’m the first skyrider to break the rules.”

“Pilot Welkin, return to your seat and get to the point or I will have you taken back to holding.”

Shan wandered back to the chair and flopped into it. One boot against the table leg, she rocked back until the chair balanced on two legs. “Better?”

Seg stared through her, the emotionless bastard.

“Your MRRC contract is being severed and I’ve assumed your debt for the damages from your sightseeing tour. You’ll wait for me at your residence.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“My facilitator will see to your removal from here. Do you need medical treatment?”

“Nah, had worse.” Shan let the chair drop forward. She was quiet for a minute, rubbing her palms on her thighs. “Your caj … what did they do with her?”

His gaze moved past her, to the wall. “She will be sent to processing after I settle matters here. Now, if that’s all, I have business.”

Shan swallowed hard. “That’s all.”

She shouldn’t have cared. All caj went through processing; it was the normal way. But she had grown used to this one the way she was and was bothered by the thought of what she would be after they had broken her. “That’s all.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her flight suit, and lowered her head.