Clockwork asylum s-28

by Jak Koke

  Ryan shook his head. He might get three, maybe four of them, but there were too many. By the time he got his gun out, they'd have cut out his knees. Unless…

  Ryan held his hands up in surrender. "I don't want trouble," he said. "I'm unarmed."

  "On the ground!"

  Suddenly, and without warning, Ryan dove for the Eurocar, flattening himself to slide under the belly of the vehicle.

  His would-be captors were caught off-guard, moving as if in slow motion. They fired, but too late. Ryan heard bullets ricochet off the car as he rolled, reaching into his calf holster for his pistol as he crossed the narrow space between the Eurocar and a Chrysler-Nissan Jackrabbit.

  A plan formed in his mind as he moved. He almost had his gun and would use it to…

  Sharp pain erupted in Ryan's chest and the side of his head as a burst of gel-pack bullets hit home.

  Drek, he thought, and for a moment blackness threatened to engulf him.

  Several seconds must have passed because Ryan found himself being dragged out from under the Jackrabbit. Drifting in and out of consciousness.

  The man who had spoken stepped forward, quickly and decisively. "This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me," the man said with an abrupt laugh.

  Pain exploded behind Ryan's right ear, and everything went black.

  32

  The Federated-Boeing 3800 arched down from the darkening sky, coming closer and closer to the sea of twinkling lights that seemed to stretch past the horizon. As the 3800 touched down, tires smoking on hot tarmac, Burnout rolled from the wheel well, hit the pavement in a shower of sparks, and skidded to a stop as the 3800 shot past him.

  In less than a second, he was on his feet, running for the lightly wooded area just to the side of the landing strip. "So far so good."

  "Yes, so far so good. Remind me not to travel with you very often." Lethe's tone was dry and sardonic.

  Burnout grinned. "Hey, you made a joke. And here I thought you were hopeless."

  "I was not joking."

  Burnout laughed as he dashed between thin maple trees and made for the long-term parking structure. A mammoth four-story building constructed of five slabs of duracrete stacked on top of each other, the long-term parking was full of cars, but otherwise completely deserted.

  Burnout skirted the building until he had the positions of all the surveillance equipment scoped out. He found the vehicle he wanted, a late-model Ford Americar. It was situated perfectly between two of the cameras' blind spots, and the third camera only covered the car once a minute.

  Plenty of time, thought Burnout.

  Just as the camera made its sweep, Burnout rushed from his hiding place, leapt over the low duracrete wall, and hit the Americar. It took him less than five seconds to open the door, another eight seconds to disable the car alarm, and twenty more to hot-wire the big sedan.

  As the engine roared to life, Burnout swung his chrome elbow in a vicious arc, smashing it into the back of the driver's seat.

  With a tortured whine, the seat snapped off at the base of the upright, allowing Burnout to sit comfortably, without being cramped against the windshield.

  Burnout backed the car out of its space and pulled up to the automated gate. He found the parking stub on the dash, fed it into the machine, grinned his metal smile into the surveillance camera, and waited as the gate electronically deducted forty-six nuyen from the account of Elizabeth Farley.

  As the long arm levered upward, Burnout accelerated out into the night. The streets were crowded, despite all the violence that had occurred recently, and Burnout had to keep his head down to avoid frightening the other drivers on the George Mason Bridge.

  As traffic thinned out coming into the city, Burnout began to feel uneasy. It wasn't anything specific, just a vague tightening of the chrome parts where his gut should have been.

  Lethe's voice dropped through his IMS. "I sense you are ill at ease. Is there a problem?"

  Burnout didn't answer for a moment. It was strange how close he and Lethe had become. The spirit was becoming uncannily good at reading his moods, at sensing his thoughts. In a way, it was comforting. He shared a bond with Lethe that he'd never experienced with any other creature in his life. Still, it was spooky at times. He shrugged. "Nothing I can pin down. Maybe I'm just having a problem with there not being a problem."

  Lethe sighed. "Your statement is as cryptic as usual, but I think I follow. You are wondering why Ryan hasn't been dogging your every footstep, why he hasn't been hiding behind every tree, every doorway."

  Burnout nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's it. This all seems too easy, like we're walking into a trap."

  Lethe chuckled. "In a manner of speaking, we are."

  "What?"

  "Do you think Ryan doesn't know we're here?"

  Burnout's voice was bitter. "Well, I was kind of hoping. I thought maybe you were clouding my trail so he wouldn't know we're coming."

  Lethe laughed. "Don't you see? We want Ryan to know we're coming. He left you that note in hopes of drawing you out. He wanted you to come for him. Every time he's tried to track you, you have defeated him, and the cost was becoming very high for him. He needs to get you on his home ground, in a place where he controls all the elements. He wants you to come for him."

  Burnout frowned. "Why doesn't that make me feel any better? I've been letting you call the shots since Pony Mountain, and suddenly, I have a feeling I'm fragged."

  "Not by any stretch of the imagination. I thought the logic here would be self-evident."

  "Well, it's not," Burnout snarled.

  "All right, my friend. Let me explain. You are walking into a trap. Mercury thinks he's got you. I'm sure we've been under astral surveillance since we left the mountain. That's how he works. However, he's failed to take a few things into account."

  "Like?"

  "Like the fact that you aren't coming for him."

  "I know that." Burnout was feeling some of his old rage resurface. "We're coming for the Daviar slitch. So how exactly does that help us?"

  Lethe sighed again, a deep, tired thing. "You have been under so much pressure, I think you are over-analyzing the situation. It's quite simple. Mercury thinks you are coming for him. He'll be ready, prepared. If we cared to look, I'm sure we could easily dig up clues as to where Mercury is to be found. He wants you to find him. But he doesn't realize that you know about Daviar. He won't be near her, and so doesn't comprehend that she's in danger."

  Suddenly, the tight knot in Burnout's stomach disappeared. "Damn, you're right. This is so simple, it's almost child's play, but you're right. Ryan seems to be a straight-on fighter, and from what he knows of me, he expects me to be the same."

  Lethe's voice was soft. "Feel better?"

  "Much. You've used Ryan's own smarts against him. If he'd tried to stop us from coming, he probably could have whittled us down bit by bit. This way…"

  "Exactly."

  With Lethe and his GPS as a guide, Burnout pulled up outside the front gate of Dunkelzahn's mansion in less than half an hour. He drove the car a half-kilometer down the road and into a tree-covered ditch. Then they made the hike back to the estate in silence and darkness.

  "I think the security here is fairly tight," said Lethe. "Though I didn't worry about that sort of thing when I was here last."

  "Can you give me specifics?"

  "Yes," Lethe said. "There are watchers and elementals. The fence is laced with monowire and there are cameras and track-mounted drones with rotary cannons packing stun ammo. Maybe paranormal guard dogs of some sort, but nothing we can't handle."

  "How do you know all this?"

  "When I was here last, I possessed a member of security so that I could speak with Nadja Daviar. I read all that from his mind."

  Burnout nodded. "What about the slitch? How's she rate on the danger scale."

  Lethe's voice was cold. "She is not a threat. Nadja Daviar is a remarkable woman, and I would like for you to promise me that no harm will co
me to her."

  "I can't promise that."

  "I realize that circumstances might get out of your control, but I would like for you to promise that you will not take any action against her yourself. If she… if something happens to her during the course of events, that is unavoidable. However, I would like for you to take all the precautions available to you to ensure her safety."

  Burnout nodded. "I've got no quarrel with her, and absolutely no reason to kill her. I won't kill her unless Mercury forces my hand. Or if she gets in the way."

  "I guess that is all I can ask."

  Just then, the sound of a big engine racing down the street toward them caught Burnout's attention. He crouched in the darkness of low-hanging pine branches across the street.

  The Nightsky limo burned rubber as it turned at the entrance and accelerated down the circular drive. With a screech, the big car slammed to a halt by the door.

  Burnout cranked up the gain on his low-light vision. He saw the figure of a young woman with the build of an elf. She had dark hair and wore a flowing red evening gown. She dashed up the broad steps to the house. Within seconds, she was inside, and the limo pulled away.

  "Looks like someone's party didn't go quite as planned."

  Lethe laughed. "Most likely Ryan has gotten word of our arrival, and has sent her to a place he believes is safe. Just as I knew he would."

  "Excellent, now let's rock and roll. Give me the layout of this place."

  33

  Out of the darkness floated a pinpoint of white light. It swam toward him in an unsteady stream, finally reaching him and bringing pain. Ryan used his magic to channel the pain away, and the throbbing in the back of his head vanished.

  He opened his eyes, and immediately shut them again.

  White room. Mirrored walls.

  With his eyes closed, he took a mental inventory of his body. The blow to the head wasn't the only thing his body had suffered. He had been beaten, though not severely, and his scalp itched where someone had ripped the fake datajacks off.

  He was naked, he could tell that by the light breeze blowing over his bare skin from the air-conditioning and the chill of the metal chair on his back. His hands were cuffed behind his knees.

  He turned his senses outward. Hearing told him that he shared the room with two others, both large, who stood behind him. Smell told him that one of the guards liked clove cigarettes and that the other wore an offensive amount of aftershave.

  He forced his mind to focus, counting backward from ten. When he had centered himself, he slowly opened his eyes again.

  The room was sterile white, nearly five meters wide, and half again as long. Directly in front of Ryan sat a small table bolted to the floor and holding a small deck and a telecom. On the other side of that was a utilitarian desk chair, empty. Without turning his head Ryan could see observation mirrors reflecting his image back to him on each of the three walls. His and the images of the two trolls who towered behind him, their battle uniforms looking well-used and their automatic rifles pointed directly at his head.

  They hadn't bothered to clean him up. Dried blood ran down his neck to a point just above his right nipple. Ryan watched the forward observation mirror, his infrared vision telling him that two others watched him.

  Ryan smiled at the two figures and mouthed the words, "Long time no see, Knight."

  One figure nodded, then moved out of Ryan's line of sight. Within a few moments, a doorway at Ryan's back opened, and in the mirror's reflection, Ryan watched Damien Knight step through.

  He hadn't changed since the party, and the look on his face was bemused, almost whimsical. Knight stepped around Ryan, making sure he was well out of reach, despite Ryan's handicapped position. He circled the deck, and with a sigh, sat in the chair.

  Knight leaned back, crossed his legs, and steepled his fingers under his chin. For some reason, his body posture reminded Ryan of Nadja. Then he realized it was that of someone totally in control, completely in his element.

  For most of five minutes, he and Knight stared at each other. Finally, Knight slowly shook his head. "I've been trying to figure out just where I went wrong with you, Mercury."

  Ryan shrugged. "Maybe it was when you showed no appreciation for good aged cognac."

  Knight laughed. "Touche. You're right. I can't stomach the stuff, myself."

  "Then I guess you were just kidding about the offer to come to your place and sample some of that vintage Germain Robin."

  Knight fixed him with an intense stare. "Yes, I think I know where I went wrong. During my dealings with you before, I formed a picture of an immaculate warrior, someone of incredible ability who had been hand-groomed by an immortal. Unfortunately, the times I had the pleasure of witnessing your crafty side, I made the assumption that Dunkelzahn was your brain, that any spark of ingenuity you possessed was programmed by your master."

  He's right and he doesn't even know it.

  Ryan was Dunkelzahn's weapon. Always had been. And without the dragon to wield him, to direct his edge, Ryan felt lost. Unsure.

  Knight stood. "Mercury, much as I'd like to sit around exchanging pleasantries with you all night, I didn't ask you here for a social call."

  Ryan smiled, tight and dangerous. "You didn't ask me here, Knight. You panicked."

  Knight returned the smile, and if anything, his grin was even more predatory. "Quite correct. You see, you left the gathering this afternoon under some very explosive misconceptions. I've brought you here to disabuse you of those misconceptions before you do something rash and potentially… destructive."

  Ryan kept his face impassive.

  Knight sat on the edge of the desk. "I'll admit, you took me for quite a turn when you mentioned Alice and Roxborough."

  "I'll bet."

  Knight nodded. "Yes, a lot of your information is quite correct, though even that data is enough to get you killed. And I have to remind you, you're getting that information from a deranged vat freak and a ghost in the machine. You see, Alice flatlined and went into a coma many years ago, though both her husband and I did everything in our power to save her."

  Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You're going somewhere with all this, I hope."

  Knight leaned forward. "You talked tonight about holding a grudge for decades. Well, you're right. A grudge has been held, but not by me. You've been duped by Alice, but unfortunately, you played your cards so well that I fell right in line with what certain people would like you to believe."

  Ryan sneered. "So you're telling me that you had nothing to do with the death of Dunkelzahn?"

  Knight stood and walked around to the chair and sat again. "That's exactly what I'm telling you."

  "You'll have to do a lot better than that, Knight. At least Alice and Roxborough gave me some evidence to back up their story."

  Knight sighed. "I was afraid it would come down to this. And I won't deny that I often wanted the old wyrm to butt out with all his behind-the-scenes manipulation. It especially slotted me off when I had to sell him VisionQuest.

  "I may have even wished for his death more than once. Frankly, he was on the hit list of all the megacorps. But we didn't all cause that explosion. I'm not even sure how it could have been done."

  Ryan laughed. "Your words are like sand in the desert, Knight. There are a whole lot of them, and they're worthless."

  Knight nodded. "Then I'm very sorry that you don't believe me, Mister Mercury. I can't give you the proof you need, and I can't afford to have someone as dangerous as you wandering around plotting my demise."

  Knight nodded to one of the trolls behind Ryan. "Kill him quickly, and painlessly."

  34

  Burnout cleared the wall with a quick flex of his hydraulic legs. He landed behind some trimmed azalea bushes and fell to his belly, listening intently for the telltale sounds of alarms or guard animals.

  Nothing but the distant chirping of birds and the chatter of squirrels.

  Burnout had seen a number of Secret Servicemen, and he
knew that if this took too long, many of them would die and he might be prevented from getting to Daviar.

  That was why his plan was based on speed.

  "I'm masking our auras," Lethe said. "And doing my best to make us invisible in the physical as well."

  Burnout didn't respond with physical speech, but Lethe seemed to understand his answer. Good.

  "When I was here last, she was in her office," Lethe said. "That window, straight ahead. First floor, next to the arboretum."

  For the most part, the mansion was a huge red brick structure with a shingled roof, but just ahead, across a short section of groomed lawn, Burnout noticed the elaborate greenhouse. The walls were in style with the rest of the house, but the roof was made of glass or some other clear composite. The glass was held up by the huge limbs of stone trees. Very ornate and beautiful.

  And very likely, complex on the inside. A great place for a confrontation.

  Burnout scanned left and caught sight of the elf woman, Daviar, through the panes of a tall window straight ahead. It was multi-paned and most likely bulletproof, but even plexan could be defeated with the right weaponry. Burnout didn't hesitate for a second; he sprang to his feet and launched himself into a full-out run, straight for the window.

  In the thirty meters between the hedge and the house, Burnout accelerated to nearly sixty klicks per hour. He pulled the Predators and fired into the window as his legs hurtled the two of them toward the window. And Daviar.

  Bullets ricocheted off the glass at first, then they cracked it. Burnout emptied both clips into the clear polymer, forming a nearly perfect circle of cracks. Then he launched himself head first into the house.

  The glass exploded in a shower of glittering shards as Burnout burst through and rolled on carpeting, snapped himself up and lunged for a startled Nadja Daviar. She pulled away from him, faster than he expected, nearly reaching the door.