Imre. He sat against the back wall of the small cave with his knees up, resting his forehead on them. He was still enough that he could’ve been asleep. Makeda listened. His breathing was easy, but she didn’t think he was actually asleep. Either he was also lost in thought or he was listening hard. He tilted his head before raising it and met her eyes. Then he gave her an unsure smile.
Makeda nodded to him. Both men seemed well. That was going to change with their escape. It would be hard going over the mountains. Still, it was enough that they were both fit and in decent spirits.
In the meantime, she took stock. On her, she had her baton, her small toolkit, a lot of certified nuyen, a pistol with four bullets, two stim patches, two sleep patches, a package of Buzzbuzz, and an energy cake. She had no way to turn the snow into water, nothing to start a fire with, and very little in the way of food.
This was a good way to get them all killed.
“Right. Everyone empty your pockets and bags. I need to see what kind of supplies we have on hand.” Her voice was loud and sudden in her ears after the long silence.
Both men stared at her for a long moment, confused at the command. “Really?” Tojo asked.
“Yes, really. Whoever blew up the maglev track also blew my nice, neat plan to hell. I need to know what I’m working with.” She beckoned with both hands. “C’mon. Let’s see what we have.”
“Even our money?” Imre asked. His face was unreadable in the fading light disappearing too fast from the cave entrance.
Makeda was tempted to say yes, but right now, money wasn’t the issue. Survival was. She shook her head.
Imre started at the top of his duster and pulled out a multi- tool, the bloody handkerchief, a datapad, his smart glasses, and an ampoule of a drug. He pulled a small wad of corp scrip from one pocket and put it back. “That’s it.” Then he snapped his fingers and pulled a lighter from his left boot. Makeda had to admire his taste in footwear. It was a high-quality Amina brand with rubber soles. No wonder he hadn’t had any problems in the snow or mud.
Makeda pointed her chin at the ampoule. “What’s that?” She had missed it in her hasty search of his body. That was a mistake that could’ve gotten her killed.
“Long haul.” Imre shrugged. “I got it from a client who liked to party very hard and wanted me to keep up. I thought I’d be on the run by myself once I hit Rome. I figured that if I could keep moving for three or four days, I’d shake loose anyone looking for me.”
“Hell of a drug. Knocks you out for hours on the come down.” She turned to the other man. “All right. Tojo?”
Tojo had nothing in his pockets, but he had his shoulder bag. In it, he had a full set of clothing, a toiletry bag that included a collapsible cup, a liter bottle of water, a holo of a green dog with multiple tails, a datapad, AR goggles, and a roll of toilet paper. When she gave the toilet paper a double glance, he’d scowled. “I have no idea how civilized the washrooms will be on our trip. Better safe.”
Makeda raised both hands in surrender. She suspected they would all be pleased at Tojo’s sensibilities by the time they were done. “If you’re cold, put the second shirt on now. We’re going to be here a bit, and I don’t want to have a fire tonight. Smoke will bring the search parties.”
Tojo put the rest of his clothing back in the shoulder bag before he added the extra layer.
Makeda put the bottle of water, the collapsible cup, the lighter, and the multi-tool to the side. To it, she added the energy cake and the Buzzbuzz. “This is the sum total of our usable emergency gear. I don’t recommend the long haul, and as we’re not trying to get rescued, the rest isn’t needed. However, pull the batteries on your datapads. At least for now. I don’t want those giving us away. Especially if you’ve got things set to automatically log in whether you’re in private mode or not.”
Imre made a face and popped the battery out of his datapad. “Never occurred to me…” The rest of the stuff, he put back in his pockets. He touched the lighter. “Do you want to carry that?”
Makeda shook her head. “It’s yours. I just wanted to know what we had. Now I know we can have a fire tomorrow if we’re not out of the woods by then. However, I’ll keep these for now.” She grabbed her stuff, the water, and the collapsible cup. “In a couple of hours, we’ll eat. In the meantime, you should see if you can sleep.”
Imre slid the lighter back into his boot.
Makeda stopped him as he went to put away his handkerchief. “You’ve got a cut on your face.”
Touching his forehead, Imre’s fingers came away tacky with drying, flaking blood. He grimaced and used the handkerchief and saliva to clean away the blood as best he could.
Tojo didn’t say anything. He replaced his things in his shoulder bag. He lingered over the picture of the green dog for a moment, then shoved it in and looked away.
Makeda didn’t want to ask. She had the maternal instinct of an angry jackal, and crying upset her. She didn’t know what the dog meant to him, and didn’t want to know. Personal details forged complicated bonds between a runner and a client. It also opened Tojo up to remembering the good parts of the life he’d left behind. This was not the time for him to get second thoughts. Plus, who has a holo of a virtual pet anyway? She shook her head, then cleared away some of the rocks from the spot she planned to nap on.
As she settled in, wishing she could wear Tojo’s extra pair of pants—they were way too slender for her hips—Imre asked, “Tell me about your dog?”
Makeda sighed inwardly. She was going to find out after all. Despite not wanting to know, she listened. There could be useful information in the telling.
For a long time, Tojo didn’t say anything. It was long enough that Makeda, curled up on her side facing the guys, resting her head on her arm, thought Tojo was going to ignore Imre’s question. Then he spoke, keeping his voice low. Makeda realized Tojo didn’t want her to hear what he had to say. This kept her mind alert even as her body relaxed. She kept her eyes almost closed and listened hard.
“Kiriko. That was her name.” Tojo rummaged through his shoulder bag until he found the holo. “She was my first virtual pet. There were others, but she was my favorite. I raised her from nothing. At first, I even did the thing where I fed and walked her every day, so she’d grow. When I got bored with that, I set it on automatic, but I never got bored of her. She was my best friend for the longest time.”
“What happened to her?”
Tojo stared at the holo. “I had to prove I was willing to leave everything behind.”
Imre shrugged. “I don’t understand.”
“Herr Schmidt told me I needed to prove that I was willing to give up everything for my new company. That I was willing to sever ties with everyone and everything I knew.” He put the holo back in his shoulder bag. “Since I don’t have family, I had to delete her. Everything that she was is gone.”
And that is why you had watchdogs on the train, you idiot. Makeda kept her thoughts to herself and wished he had told her about the virtual pet when she was questioning him about recent deaths or suicides. Then again, he was probably embarrassed by his love of the digital creature. It was a private part of him. Or so he thought. Clearly not.
Imre shifted, scraping against the rock and dirt. “No backups?”
Tojo shook his head in small, slow arcs. “The new company had ways of knowing if I did.” He gazed up at the dirt ceiling. “I could remake her…when I get to my new home. But it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be my Kiriko. I’d trained her to do so many things that I forgot them all. Sometimes, she’d surprise me with an automatic response to something I did. She was the best code buddy I ever had.”
Makeda watched them with slitted eyes. Imre didn’t say anything. He gave Tojo’s forearm a squeeze. Tojo continued to look at the dirt ceiling. Silent tears rolled down the sides of his face, making tracks in the dirt on his cheeks.
She wondered what kind of company would make you sacrifice the thing you loved most to prove
your willingness to leave your job. Then again, people who didn’t have vibrant online lives didn’t understand people who got emotionally invested in their digital ones. They often thought the digital existence wasn’t worth as much as a meat body one. Makeda knew a score of people who could refute that assumption.
Be that it is may, Herr Schmidt was a bastard to make Tojo delete his only friend.
She pondered the Johnson. Schmidt had done a couple of unusual things where Tojo was concerned. Two runs with him on the same train without letting the runners know. Then again, Schmidt could’ve had her get the codes off Tojo when she extracted him. That made more sense. It would’ve been safer and cheaper. Less chance of the runners clashing with each other. It was almost as if Schmidt either wanted mistakes to be made or he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. In both cases, he was a danger to the entire operation. After a few long minutes, Imre glanced around the cave as the other man wiped at his face—a polite way of not seeing the tears. “So, tell me about this new company?”
Makeda made an effort to not react. This was a good test of Tojo’s ability to keep his mouth shut. It would tell her what kind of a talk she needed to have with him later.
Tojo shook his head. “I can’t.”
Good boy. It was better than she’d hoped for. “Oh, I understand.”
“You don’t. I don’t know who I’m going to be working for yet. I just know it’ll be better than where I was. I won’t be stuck in a go- nowhere, do-nothing-new job.”
Makeda’s pleasure at Tojo’s denial turned to disbelief.
Imre sat back and stared at the smaller man. “Ah, isn’t that a bit, ah, dangerous?”
That was putting it politely. If Makeda had been part of the conversation, she would’ve asked, “Are you stupid?” Instead, she filed all the information away and planned not to tell Tojo anything important.
“It is a risk,” Tojo agreed. “But that’s why I made the deal to sell the paydata. I have money if everything goes wrong. I’m willing to take a risk to get my freedom, but I don’t trust everything I hear. Especially not from a recruiter. Then again, if even half of what she said was true, I’m going to enjoy life a lot more. If not, I have enough money to help make life enjoyable wherever I end up.”
“Paydata?” Imre sounded very interested, if a bit bemused. “Yeah, I…” Tojo paused. “I don’t think I should talk about it. You’re not a shadowrunner, and I think Makeda would be upset if I said anything.”
“Wait, why?” Imre sounded more mystified than upset. “Because I’m not a runner, and she is?”
Makeda didn’t move except to breathe in slow, even breaths. She could feel them both looking at her. It seemed Tojo had picked up some of her caution, but not enough. Still, he stopped when he should have and before she had to pretend to wake up. It was a really good thing that no one knew she had the only copy of the paydata— as far as she knew.
Once more, she wished for her team to be in her head. Runs were supposed to be fast and clean. Extract, escape, deliver. She admitted she was more upset at the lack of information than the lack of back up. She was good on her feet and specialized in improvisation. But she couldn’t be effective without knowledge. That was what her inner control freak was really upset about.
“Yeah.” Tojo shifted his shoulder bag, getting more comfortable. “You don’t have the same code of honor shadowrunners have unless you are one. I saw it on Breakout: A Shadowrunner’s Story. It was a really good show.”
“I’m not sure how real shows like that are. But all right, we can talk about something else.” Imre sounded like he was considering whether or not Tojo was off his rocker.
Makeda wanted to laugh. She also made note of the show. She needed to see what the wage slaves were eating up as a “real” shadowrunner’s story.
“What did you do before this?” Tojo reached for the right words. “I mean, really do. I heard what you told Makeda, but I still don’t understand what that means.”
“I worked at Hanover Casino as one of their top VIP service people.” Imre sighed. “It was a wonderful and terrible job. The short version: I did whatever the VIP wanted me to do. Fetch and carry, act as a companion, be a secretary, tour guide, and entertainment specialist. That sort of thing. If they wanted joygirls or -boys, or drugs or a private card game, I arranged it for them. It didn’t matter if I liked them or not. What mattered is if they liked me.”
“It doesn’t sound so bad.”
“You try explaining to a spoiled brat that they can’t do novacoke on the casino floor because it’s against the rules and get backhanded for it, then smile when they tell you to go clean yourself up because they can’t have you making them look bad. Or drive a beaten joyboy back to his pimp and pay him an extra fee for returning damaged goods. Or have to smile again when that same client comes back and requests you personally because you give such good service…and no, you can’t say no.”
“Wow.” Tojo’s voice was low and awed. “That really happened?” “Yes. And worse. The rich are bastards. Every last one of them. They never do anything because it’s the right thing to do. There’s always an angle. They always get something out of everything. Any rich guy who says they’re doing it for altruistic reasons is a liar.” Imre’s voice thickened with suppressed emotion. “The ones who say they’re doing something because it’s the right thing to do are the worst of the lot. They’re the ones who find the orphan to have a picture or trid with, then they leave them behind like an abandoned doll.”
“And I thought being a maintenance dev was bad.”
Makeda wondered who had hurt whom to make Imre hate the rich so much. It was personal. Very personal. With the amount of loathing in his voice, it was a testament to his acting skill that he hadn’t sneered at her when she told him her background story of doing charity benefits for orphanages in Belgium.
“Bad is what you make of it. Suffering is suffering, no matter where you are or what job you do.” Imre shifted in his spot. “I think I’m going to follow Makeda. I’m gonna rest. I may not be a runner, but I understand how much mountain climbing is going to suck hoop in the morning.”
Makeda listened to the two of them get comfortable and waited until both of them were breathing slow and deep before she let herself follow suit.
Hours later, Makeda was on her feet with the Walther in her hand before she realized she was awake. In the back of the cave, Tojo and Imre slept back-to-back curled up in tight, protective balls. Tojo used his shoulder bag as a pillow.
She looked around, seeking the source of her sudden wakefulness. Bright moonlight shone in through the cave opening, illuminating the cave enough for her to see.
There was no immediate danger in sight. Makeda cocked her head and listened. Far away or high above, something with rotors flew. A search team. That wasn’t a surprise. Even if they had found the rest of the scattered Party Train passengers, they were missing three. But search teams didn’t work at night. Not usually. It had to be a heat-seeking drone. Makeda pondered this. She didn’t think the local authorities would operate at night, though with the caliber of people on the Party Train, it wouldn’t surprise her if private security forces had gotten involved.
Laying back down, Makeda continued to listen for sounds of people getting closer to their position. The night was quiet except for the sleeping noises of those in the cave. She wondered how far out the search teams would look.
Then again, the ones searching might not be part of the official rescue party. Makeda considered the two sleeping men. If Tojo had been the target, the assassin was not going to give up so easily. She grimaced. It would’ve been so much easier to kill him on the train. Why blow the track? Why so much collateral damage?
Answers, much like sleep, eluded her for the rest of the night.
10
“Why didn’t you remind me that we hadn’t eaten?” Makeda broke the energy bar into thirds and passed two pieces to Tojo and Imre.
Tojo chuckled as he accepted his ti
ny meal. “And wake you up? No. Not me.”
Imre agreed as he ate his piece in a single bite. “I’ve learned not to wake a woman up unless she says to.” The two men exchanged conspiratorial glances and grinned.
Makeda rolled her eyes and finished her meal in two bites. As she did so, she poured a cup of water for Imre. Each cup held about a hundred sixty milliliters of liquid. “Drink it. This is all we have until we can find a safe source for water.” She poured herself a cup and gulped it down.
Tojo, who had been nibbling on his piece of breakfast, pointed upward. “What about the snow?” He stuffed the rest of the energy bar in his mouth and made a face.
“No. Eating snow can dehydrate you. Your body has to work too hard to break it down. Plus, it’s cold. Hypothermia. Not to mention, you don’t know what kind of little beasties live in the snow.” Makeda poured him a cupful of the water. “We’ll be okay with this for now.” She gave him a confident smile she did not really feel. “So drink up.”
Leaving the cave was harder than Makeda thought it would be. None of them had realized just how much the earth had protected them from the cold and wind. As soon as she was boosted out of the hole, Makeda knew they would have to find shelter before nightfall. If they didn’t, they would require a fire to keep from freezing.
Imre boosted Tojo out next. “Holy hoop. It’s fraggin’ cold out here.”
“You’ll warm up as soon as we get moving. Help me.” She and Tojo pulled Imre from the cave with a bit of effort.
“Ach du meine Güte,” Imre muttered and shivered. “Did it snow last night? Is it supposed to snow in the spring?”
Looking back the way they’d come, their tracks, still somewhat visible, were covered in a fresh layer of obscuring snow. “Yeah. Good and bad for us.” Makeda rubbed her hands together. Last night, she’d used the sun to figure out which way was north—and civilization. “C’mon.”
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