The dwarf woman stopped in the middle of the makeshift road. “You’re going to walk that way for a long while. The road is the easiest way to go, but there’s no cover. Keep that in mind. The wires are lit up with at least a dozen missing passengers from the train. Rewards offered to anyone who finds and helps the survivors. Big rewards. So far, you aren’t wanted criminals. At least, not for the train attack.”
Makeda nodded.
Vasti turned those scratched chrome goggles on her. “I didn’t bring you out here for my health. I saw you watching me. What do you want to say…or ask…out of earshot of the boys?”
Makeda blinked at Vasti’s bluntness, used to people talking around a point for a while. Then again, she had been obvious about her desire to talk to Vasti, but she didn’t want to warn Imre or worry Tojo. “Couple of things. First, If I don’t contact you within twenty-four hours after we leave, I want you to contact Galen for me. Tell him to ‘Do what needs to be done.’”
“What’s in it for me?”
“500 nuyen now. 500 more when I comm you.”
“No skin off my nose.” Vasti rubbed the scar tissue around her goggles. “Deal. And the other thing?”
“I was outside last night.” “Not alone.” She snickered.
Makeda ignored that. “There was something else out here. It attacked and killed a wolf. What was it?”
“Ah.” Vasti looked around. “Where?”
Makeda pointed toward the northwest ridge.
“I don’t know what he is. I’ve seen him, though. I call him Gregor. I think he was once a troll, but then Genom got to him. One of their experiments. He escaped. Or they let him go. Gregor was quiet and kept to himself. Smart. I’d see signs of him on my land. Then I think he got caught in a mana storm. That changed him. Now he’s just big and mean and obvious. Heard rumors from the net that he has a particular hate on for trolls. Otherwise, he’s just territorial.”
“Why do you let him stay?”
“Why not? I don’t like people. Gregor is a good deterrent for trespassers.” Vasti shrugged. “Besides, why not let him live? Gregor has never bothered me in my home. I know he’s gone by here. He doesn’t like houses. Or maybe it’s just walls he doesn’t like. I don’t know. I don’t like messing about in the woods or messing with him. Live and let live.”
Makeda nodded, adding the details to her plan. “What’s the land like between here and civilization?”
“Abandoned farms, or people like me who want to be left alone. Most of them don’t have the connections I have. They also really don’t like foreigners. I’d stick to myself until I got into Bern. The city, by the way, is a poseur. A tarted-up jenny pretending to go to the opera. Everyone can see the cracks. Most people pretend they’re not there.” Vasti pointed a stubby finger at Makeda. “So don’t be expecting real civilization. More like glorified slums with pretentions of grandeur. Just be glad it has an airport you can fly out of. It’s not much of one, but it’s serviceable. It says ‘international.’ What it means is that even a Cessna from Germany can make the commuter hop.”
“Good to know.” Makeda looked back at the house. Tojo and Imre watched them out the window. “It’s been good to meet you, Vasti.”
“Don’t get mushy on me. Besides, you owe me 500 nuyen.” She pulled her credstick and reader from her bag.
“And you need to give me a way to contact you.” Makeda transferred the money. “Mushy or not, I appreciate what you’ve done.”
Vasti snorted. “I appreciate the nuyen. Now I can get some upgrades.”
For all Vasti’s gruffness, it was clear she’d enjoyed the bit of company while it was here. Probably why she didn’t just murder them in their sleep for their nuyen. Then again, TechnoGalen knew they’d been there, and Makeda could hear Vasti in her head saying, I’m too old to muck about with murdering you. Too much blood to clean up. And then there’d be people wanting revenge. Pah!
Vasti scowled at Makeda’s smile. “What?”
Makeda shook her head as she pocketed the credstick. “Nothing.” “Good. Now get off my land. I need some peace and quiet.”
With several bottles of water, some old MREs that Vasti had dug up, and an extra backpack for Makeda, the three of them walked down the road that was more dirt than not. Vasti had taken pity on Tojo and given him a set of hiking spikes for his shoes. Tojo looked ridiculous, but he walked with a much more stable step over the uneven ground. That improved his mood.
The fog rolled back by mid-morning, and the sun peeked out from time to time. The cloudy sky was a welcome change from the heat of the last hike, though the dark clouds behind them promised wet weather. That would be a problem later—hopefully when they’d already found shelter. For now, it kept things comfortable and a little brisk.
They didn’t speak as they walked. Makeda kept an eye on their surroundings, looking for signs of predators—human and animal alike. The world felt both too quiet and too noisy. Unfamiliar bird song mixed with animals rustling in the undergrowth of trees. The trees around them were just strange enough to shift into uncanny valley territory. The green wasn’t the right shade, and the trees weren’t the right shape. It felt like walking through a dream.
She wished she could access the Matrix for information about the flora and fauna outside the city, just to be sure. Not to mention doing a bit of research about Bern and its denizens. Once she was back in the wireless world, she wasn’t going to leave it again for a long time. She felt like part of her had been cut off. It was so easy to look things up, to play music or the latest trid. It bothered her when it was gone. What had once been taken for granted was now sorely missed.
Makeda scoffed at herself. You’ve become spoiled, she scolded. Reliant on technology. There was a time you didn’t have two nuyen to rub together, much less a constant Matrix connection to any information you wanted, whenever you wanted it. The scolding carried a bittersweet sting of nostalgia, Then she relented. She’d earned the money for her headware—with hard work, blood, sweat, and tears.
Imre and Tojo walked together behind until Imre caught up with her. They walked in step until Makeda gave him a sideways glance. “What’s up?”
“I think Tojo needs a break. He’s trying to do the brave-face thing, but he’s slowing down. He already has blisters. I’m sure of it. His gait is off.”
Makeda nodded. “Not much we can do about that now.” She’d get him healed as soon as they reached a place that it could be done. “But yeah. A break is called for.” Makeda was ready for a rest. It was only a few more kilometers until she had a decent signal again. She gestured to the tree line across a small field. “There. In the shade. We’ll rest and have a bite to eat.”
Tojo sat straight-legged with his head down while Imre sprawled in the grass. The hiking spikes on the bottoms of Tojo’s smooth-soled shoes still looked funny. She smiled.
That smile disappeared as she saw the bottom of Imre’s boots. They weren’t just the fashionable brand she thought they were. The height they gave Imre wasn’t from lifts as she first thought. The boots had deep treads that made hiking across dirt and rocks and fallen branches a breeze. She hadn’t realized that. She’d just thought them part of the current fashion of practical boots with rubber soles. But, no, these boots were designed with a specific purpose in mind: hiking.
Makeda looked into the forest, contemplating this, before she sat with her back to a tree. The forest was more of a copse with some undergrowth. Through them, she saw the roof of some sort of structure. It was weatherworn and old. Maybe a stable. Probably a barn.
She drank her water as she watched Tojo struggle to get into the ready-to-eat meal package. Imre sat up, pulled his multi-tool from his belt, and flipped open the knife. He offered it to Tojo. Instead, Tojo handed him the package. With an experienced flick of the wrist, Imre had the MRE open. He gave it back to Tojo. “Don’t toss the spice bottle if you don’t use it. Those are like gold.”
Makeda, already suspicious with a sinking heart, fr
oze. That was something a military man would say. Or corpsec. Someone who’d been through training. Or another shadowrunner. Someone who’d spent a lot of time in the field. Those two sentences crystallized it for her. From his boots to his multi-tool to his ease in the wild, Imre wasn’t who he pretended to be. He couldn’t be. Traceable SIN or not, Imre didn’t work for a casino babysitting pampered guests. Or if he had, that was in the past.
Makeda felt her cheeks flush with anger and stared at the weatherworn roof. Anger at Imre for not being what he said he was. Anger at TechnoGalen for not figuring out that Imre’s SIN was fake. Anger at herself because she should’ve seen it sooner. She’d known something was wrong. It’d been the fact that Imre had been too comfortable with everything that had happened, and she’d been too comfortable with him—treating him more like a team member than a client.
Calming herself with an effort, she stood, brushing dirt from her backside. “Imre, a word?”
“Are we leaving so soon?” Tojo groaned. He stuffed the rest of his cheese cracker in his mouth.
“Nah. Just want to consult with Imre for a moment.”
Imre got to his feet, his expression asking what was up. He followed her deeper into the copse of trees. He stuffed his hands into his duster pockets as he met up with her. “What’s wrong?”
Makeda turned her back to Tojo and moved in close. She slid her hand around Imre’s belt and pulled the multi-tool from it. “When were you going to reveal yourself?” she asked as she stuffed the tool in her pocket. She kept her voice low so it wouldn’t carry to Tojo.
He gave her an uncertain look. “What do you mean?”
“Why would an experienced valet wear hiking boots on a luxury train? Unless he expected to go hiking.” Imre started to pull his hands from his pockets, but Makeda shook her head. “No. Don’t move.” She held the Walther at her waist. “Let’s talk.”
Imre relaxed his arms and eyed the pistol with concern. His face went neutral.
“Merc, corpsec, or shadowrunner?” She watched his eyes. They cut away from her on the last word. Shadowrunner. Better than the other two. “Ah, a runner. Did you, your team, blow up the maglev track?”
“Makeda…”
“Don’t lie to me. I know you want to, but this isn’t the time or place.” She kept her voice even, hiding just how angry she was. She wanted him to have been a good guy. Now, she had no idea what he was, except a possible, probable danger to her and to Tojo.
Imre hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t cause the train wreck.” Makeda scowled at him. “I didn’t. I swear.”
“But you are a shadowrunner. What do you want? Why did you insist on coming with me? Are you a danger to Tojo?”
“Makeda—”
“Don’t ‘Makeda’ me. Just answer the damn question. What do you want with us?”
Imre glanced over her shoulder and blinked in surprise. “Frag.”
The word was a whisper of shock, designed to make her look. She wasn’t going to fall for it. She wished she could cock the Walther to make a point. The holdout pistol didn’t need to be cocked. “Dammit, Imre, I—”
“Makeda!”
Tojo’s shout of fear cut off the rest of her words. Makeda threw a glance over her shoulder then turned, her eyes going wide. Across the field, from the direction of Vasti’s cabin, the biggest, angriest creature she’d ever seen was charging at them. It seemed they had entered Gregor’s territory.
And he was pissed about it.
“Oh, frag me. Run!” Makeda didn’t have to tell him twice. Tojo ran to her as fast as he could. When he got there, he clutched at her arm. She shook him off and pointed at the roof top. “Run there. Get inside that building. I don’t care if it’s locked. Break a window. Go now!” She shoved him in the right direction.
Tojo did as he was told and ran, his shoulder bag slamming into his hip as he went. Imre backed up, but didn’t run. Makeda aimed her Walther at the charging monster.
If Gregor had been a troll before, he was a troll’s troll now. At least three, three-and-a-half meters tall, his mottled skin was the color of dying moss—yellow green into dead brown—and covered with branches. The more she aimed, the more she realized that the tree branches and vines actually grew out of the creature’s skin. Somehow, he’d merged with a tree.
“I don’t think that’s going to work.” Imre took another step back.
“Might slow it down. Run. Get to the building. Vasti said it doesn’t like buildings.” Makeda continued to aim, then fired as it opened its mouth to roar. She hoped she could hit the brain through its unarmored mouth.
The creature’s roar died in its throat. It stopped, shook its head a couple of times, then roared. The sound had a slight watery tinge to it. Then it sprinted at them again.
Makeda ran. Imre was at her side. They burst out of the trees as Gregor crashed into them. On the other side, in a small valley next to several large boulders, was the building Makeda had glimpsed. It was an older barn, sun-bleached until the paint was almost gone. There were no windows on the lower floor and a couple of boarded-up windows in the upper floor.
Tojo fought with the barn door, trying to break the rusted chain wrapped around the door handles. He kicked at the chain with the hiking spikes and then slammed his shoulder into the doors, trying to open them enough to break the chain. The chain creaked and bent but did not break.
Makeda skidded to a stop near one of the boulders. “Get that door open!”
Imre hesitated before sprinting over to the barn to help Tojo.
Watching the mutated troll-thing charge toward them was like watching a car crash in slow motion. There was nothing you could do to stop it, and it felt like time stretched out a thousand years.
As soon as Makeda realized that the creature had been attracted by Imre’s movement, she yelled, “Gregor! Over here! Come get some, you giant lump of a monster.” She waved her arms and jumped.
It was the best she could think of off the top of her head. It wasn’t cool, but it worked. Gregor swung toward her, and his charge slowed to a lumbering run. She aimed the Walther at one of Gregor’s eyes. It was a big, muddy yellow thing that never seemed to blink. She fired once, shooting true. The eye winked out, and a bloody mess took its place as the mutant creature rushed her.
He swung huge arms at her head. With her reflexes reacting as they should, Makeda dodged and dodged again. Gregor’s fist grazed her hair. Part of her waited to hear the sound of the door crashing open. With agility she didn’t see coming, Gregor kicked the meaty part of her thigh. She sprawled against the boulder, then ducked a claw swipe that left marks on the stone.
Makeda dove away from the boulder, and Gregor followed. She stumbled and hit the ground hard, losing her gun. She rolled out of the way of Gregor’s fist as it slammed the ground next to her head. She kicked his shin. It gave a loud crack, and he howled. She grabbed the multi-tool from her pocket, snapped open the knife, and stabbed him in the wrist as he punched where her head had just been. Gregor reared back with a yelp, holding up the injured limb with the knife still stuck in it.
Scrambling away from the monster, Makeda had the vague sense of Imre moving fast from the side—faster than an un-augmented human could. He leaped above her. She grabbed the Walther and turned over. Imre pulled a monofilament wire from his sleeve and jumped for Gregor. Then he garroted him, with his knees pressed to the mutated troll’s back.
Makeda rolled to a stand and dodged Gregor’s flailing arms as he tried to get Imre off of him, the weapon slicing into his throat. Gregor’s mouth gaped wide, gasping for air as the garrote cut deep. Makeda aimed and shot the monster through the roof of his mouth. There was no exit wound.
Gregor stopped flailing. He stood there for a long moment, bleeding from the mouth, eye, and throat before crumpling to his knees and falling over sideways. Imre rode the creature to the ground and leaped off it with a graceful hop. Makeda stepped away from both of them as Imre reached over and grabbed his multi-tool, pulling it fr
om the troll’s wrist. He had to twist the tool to get it free.
She turned her back on both of them and quick-walked to the barn. The chain lay broken on the ground. Part of the barn door was splintered. She opened it wider and stepped within. Tojo stood towards the back, hugging his shoulder bag. “You all right?”
Tojo nodded. “A little bruised, but fine. The monster?”
“Dead. Let’s go.”
Imre walked inside the barn and stood near the door.
Makeda shook her head. “There’s no way you can claim to be anything but a shadowrunner or corpsec after that little display. You’re not coming with us.” She shifted until she was between the two men, protecting one from the other.
“We’re not done talking. I’m not corpsec, and we didn’t blow up the track.”
It was a subtle shift, but Imre’s entire demeanor changed from polite solicitude to polite command. Makeda gestured to his feet. “Then why are you wearing hiking boots? You expected to be out in the countryside.”
Imre glanced at his boots. “Yes. But in Lucern. We were going to get off the train then. Escape into the city. Make like we’d been kidnapped.”
“We. How many of you?” Makeda held up the pistol. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I want you to back away. You don’t need us, and we don’t need you.”
He raised his hands. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“Not in my job description.”
“I need a word with Tojo.”
Makeda looked over her shoulder at her client. He looked terrified and confused. “Why?”
“I’m not asking for permission.” Imre tilted his head in a listening pose. “No.”
“No what?”
“No, don’t shoot her right now.” He nodded to Makeda’s chest. Makeda looked down. A red laser dot danced over her sternum.
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