by Unknown
"Hey, chummer, you're not sayin' you suspect me, are you?" "I said the drekhead could only have disappeared in the high-rise."
Druse looked at him angrily. "Listen, chummer, I only just got here, so ka? Can ya see a bow in my hand? Drek, why would I be bringin' ya clothes if I was gonna shoot ya! Fuck, chummer, use your head! Squeeze your ass tight and put a bit more pressure on the cracks in your brains. Ya saved my life, we both got enemies who wanna roast our guts, we both wanna go to Hamburg, we know we're only strong together - why the hell should I get it into my head to waste ya? Huh? Ya think I got Alzheimer's or somethin'?
"Cool it," said Pandur, putting his Secura away. "I didn't really suspect you. I just flipped out. Had bad experiences with a bowman, so ka?" He paused a moment. "You notice anyone near the ruin?"
"Nobody, only a few kids that ran away when I came." "
Rumblekids?"
"Could be. Probably. They just ran away, showed me their heels. Didn't have any weapons on them - not least a bow - if that's what ya mean."
"They could've hidden it somewhere."
"Forget it, chummer," Druse countered. "Rumblekids jump ya with knives, or throw grenades if they're the real hard kind. But use a composite bow? Drek, they ain't got the strength or the trainin' for it. Or the bow. Anyway, rumblekids don't run away, they try to rob ya."
Pandur made a dismissive gesture. "I know all that. But who could it have been?"
"How about some freak with a grudge against cultists? Like somebody from the Runenthing?"
"Hmm." Pandur had to confess that something along those lines couldn't be ruled out. The cultists were bound to have enemies, too, and the robe could have enticed such an enemy. What still remained a mystery was the way the bowman had disappeared without a trace. There was little sense in searching the ruin. The thick pillars of the skeleton, the prefabricated sections leaning against them or piled up in between, some of them shattered, as well as the heaps of rubble offered countless opportunity for concealment. Besides, the marksman had now had ample time to creep out of the unfinished building on the other side.
Pandur removed the plastic from around the bundle. Druse had brought him a pair of jeans and a blue, half-length cord jacket plus sturdy leather boots, all used but acceptable. Without a second thought, Pandur took off the rubber shoes and the syntholeather pants, slipped on the jeans. He was glad to feel dry cloth on his skin at last. Not even his body heat had been able to rid the things of their clammy dampness.
"They fit, I hope?" Druse enquired. "The second-hand store didn't have a big selection, and I had to guess your size." " Bit loose, but that's no problem."
The boots were a perfect fit. Pandur stripped off the cowl, the case containing his cyberdeck and the upper part of the syntholeather outfit. He slipped into the jacket. Too big, but warm. No complaints. He emptied the pockets of his old clothes and stowed the cyberdeck under the new jacket. Then he rolled the things he had taken off together with the cowl in the plastic wrapping. Maybe he could sell the stuff somewhere.
Druse stuck a few ecu bills in the pocket of Pandur's jacket. "Treat yourself to a soysteak or whatever before we get to goin'. Or get some fast food to go, even better."
"Sounds like we're in a hurry."
"We are, chummer," Druse answered. "Juri made a few calls. We can take a hovercraft that's headin' for Hamburg. It's here in the parking lot somewhere. The pilot's waitin' for us at Aldiburger."
"Drek. I'd have liked to live without hovercraft for a while."
The redhead laughed and set off marching.
With mixed feelings, Pandur looked once towards the high-rise, shrugged his shoulders and followed his chummer. "We owe Juri quite a lot," he said.
"Don't worry about it. She got quite a lot in return," said Druse, grinning with self-satisfaction. "I don't believe she regrets it."
"Faith is bliss. Your last bedmate was so delighted with your efforts that she wanted to catapult you to Hell."
"Fuck, chummer, can't ya leave off on that bitch."
When they reached the spot where the MAN Koloss was still parked, Pandur looked around for the arrow. Druse helped him. He discovered the arrow finally under a white, but completely filthy VW Impuls standing nearby. He pulled the arrow out from under the car, felt the point and then passed the projectile to Pandur.
"Reinforced rubber tip," he said. "Hurts like hell if it hits ya, but the mystery man didn't intend to kill ya."
Pandur also examined the arrow and had to admit Druse was right. Because of their high speed on impact, the arrows were by no means harmless. They could take out an eye and castrate men. But their real purpose was to stun the victim so that, for instance, he could be robbed.
"Maybe it was the kids after all."
Rumblekids doing good business could sometimes afford synthetic muscles, but for not fully grown children this was sheer madness. And even with synthmuscles, no child could draw a composite bow.
"There you are, then," said Druse satisfied. At the same time, in an indefinable way, he seemed edgy.
Fleetingly, before stuffing it into one of the trash cans outside Aldiburger, Pandur noted that the arrow was undamaged. Actually, he thought, it looked new. Druse had found it and had had enough time to hide the right arrow and present this one to him in its place...
A healthy skepticism will get you through the shadows paranoia will turn you into a shadow. So, forget it.
The idea that Druse had allowed for the missed shot and had brought along a second, fake arrow, was too far-fetched. The redhead did not have such a subtle mind and he couldn't have foreseen that he would be the one to find the arrow. Despite this, he couldn't completely switch off his mistrust of Druse. Why didn't Druse tell him what Proteus wanted from him? And why did he appear so edgy?
When they entered the Aldiburger, someone immediately waved to them from one of the tables. A female orc. Perhaps Juri had described the two men to her. Druse headed for the table while Pandur went to the counter and ordered himself two soyburgers and a soycof. He didn't have long to wait. He walked across the moderately full restaurant. He joined Druse and the pilot at the table and listened to them as he ate.
The woman's name was Freda, was unusually corpulent, even compared with other other ores, and completely hairless. She had a classic moonface with a very, very broad nose. Her wide grin, which came often, could have been described as refreshing but for the enormous, irregular set of teeth with the extended tusks that her grins fully exposed. As it was, she looked like a frog with a predator's jaws.
Regardless of these superficialities, Freda gave the impression of being good-natured and chummy. She was in the middle of telling a filthy joke, the punchline involving the huge vagina of a dwarf woman and the unsuspectedly tiny penis of a gigantic troll. She messed up the punchline, though, as she started to shake with muffled, bubbling laughter beforehand, and got in a muddle at the crucial moment.
Besides troll penises, Freda was particularly interested in trid and 2DTV. She was a fan of hard reality shows and knew her way around the relevant programs of the various stations. As well as reality shows, she loved the ancient 2D zombie movies and had a subscription for Suhrkamp pay TV, a channel specializing in horror of every description. Druse had a hard time keeping up because most of Freda's favorite programs couldn't be received at sea.
"What brings ya to these parts?" the orc woman asked casually.
Druse grinned conspiratorially. "Business," he said ambiguously. "The shipping business, so ka?"
"Got ya. Goin' well?"
"Couldn't be better."
"Good area for the shipping trade if ya got it together." " About payin' for the trip..." Druse began, but Freda interrupted him.
"That's all settled."
Pandur assumed Juri was picking up the tab. Amazing. All this for a quick screw? Or was Freda associated with the cultists in some way? Pandur found it hard to picture her in a cowl. But, actually, why not? Or was there something Pandur didn't know? Druse, who was manag
ing this trip, was too quick to accept Freda's reply for Pandur's taste.
Proteus is hunting you, chummer. It should matter to you who's paying for the escape. Are you so good in bed that it never occurred to you Juri could be playing a cheating game?
"Who's arranging it?" Pandur asked.
"I won't ask about your business, you don't ask about mine, so ka?"
Pandur fell silent. Somehow he didn't like it. He liked to know where he stood.
Unlike Pandur, Druse seemed glad to change the subject. He started a discussion on sport.
Pandur kept a surreptitous eye on the redhead. Druse was drumming nervously on the table. Nervous, the chummer, very nervous. But Pandur wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. He hurried to finish his soyburgers. He picked up what was left of the second burger and, his mouth full, indicated they could go.
Freda waddled on ahead, presenting an enormous rear end in dirty, once lime-green dungarees. Her short, pillar-like legs ended in black, slip-on boots. The orc woman led the men to the second of the two hovercraft, an ultra-flat, but wide-based vehicle with a bulky tanker superstructure that went well with its pilot. Pandur gave a slight start when he saw the lettering, AG CHEMIE in flaming red on a grey background. Natalie's ex-husband worked as an exec for this megacon. He was probably the one responsible for the pursuit of Natalie and Pandur, which had led to Konigsberg Castle and reached its sad climax there. In any event it had been an AG Chemie tanker that had barred their way on the freeway...
With some effort Pandur thrust the old memories out of his conscious mind. It didn't mean anything. AG Chemie maintained a huge fleet of vehicles. It wasn't without a certain irony that his old enemy was now helping him unwittingly. Pandur refused to think about any other possibilities. The opposition was strong, but not omnipotent. They couldn't have planned all this.
An oppressive feeling remained as he took his seat in the cockpit alongside Freda and Druse.
To be licensed for road use, land hovercraft had to have an additional wheel drive. This was the case with Freda's Dornier Manta Roadrunner, too. The favorite hovercraft for the mudflats had proved to be a sales hit as a slimmed-down, much smaller land version because it was ideally suited to the north German swamplands and, at the same time, was a nimble and powerful road vehicle.
Within built-up areas, as well as on freeways and Alliance highways, the use of its vertical thrust jets was not permitted. Freda observed this regulation and let the Manta, without the tank as flat and wide as the actual manta ray, roll down the main street at a moderate pace. The electric engine hummed so quietly that the vehicle glided on almost soundlessly.
Freda switched on some music. She programmed her on-board computer and had it play some heartbreaking tear-jerkers from her store of music chips. Her taste in music stood in sharp contrast to her other preferences. Or was this sort of music the necessary emotional balance to zombie horror and the live blood in the reality shows?
Above the music, Freda and Druse argued about which team would win the Teuton Bowl this year. Freda supported the Schwaben Critters while Druse favored the Cyberwolves from Berlin. It all left Pandur cold.
Dead trees lined both sides of the road. Occasionally the decayed remains of what had once been farmhouses could be seen. The earth in between was grey or black, mostly swampy and dotted with innumerable ponds. After about ten minutes, Freda steered the hovercraft onto a badly maintained county road and switched on the main power unit. More smoothly than Pandur had feared, the vehicle glided over the uneven ground. Eventually, the road was hard to make out. Freda programmed in a course and let the autopilot find a way straight across the peatbog.
Now that his stomach had received its just rewards, Pandur's eyes, after the all too short night, were threatening to fall shut. He looked around and discovered a bunk in the rear section of the cab. He knew he would fall asleep sitting up sooner or later. At the moment no danger threatened. Why not get a proper rest?
"If nobody has any objection, I'll get my head down for an hour or two," he said.
"Just make yourself at home, chummer," was Freda's reply. " We'll wake ya when we're in Harburg."
Pandur contendedly wrapped himself in a blanket and let the hissing of the jets and the gentle swaying of the vehicle carry him into a half-sleep. He really did almost feel at home. In the last few months the Broken Heart had been his home and when you closed your eyes, you couldn't tell the difference between the ship and the Manta. Yet, just a few hours ago, Pandur had been glad to have got away from the Broken Heart, Tupamaro, the other pirates, the targeting screen of the Vindicator and all the rest...
At some point he jerked awake, sat up, threw back the cover and crawled out of the bunk.
Up front, Druse was snoring in his seat. Freda was sitting next to him, gazing at the multi-screen. The first pictures alone that Pandur saw made it clear she was tripping on a horror film. A zombie army was staggering across a cemetery. A young woman was fleeing, she stumbled and was caught...
Pandur threw a fleeting glance at the instrument panel. He was taken aback.
"What the hell is going on?" he said. "How come we're moving west?"
Freda looked up. "Toxic spirits outside Buxtehude," she said coolly. "Came over the infochannel before. They're besiegin' the town and blockin' all the surroundin' area. The town has deployed wage mages to combat them but it'll be a few hours before that stretch is open."
"But west..." Pandur mumbled. "That'll bring us back to the Weser."
"We got to take a short diversion, chummer. Don't let it worry ya."
The tiniest tension in Freda's posture and voice alerted Pandur. He kept his eye on the instruments and, at the same time, tried to take in details of the countryside the hovercraft was crossing. Mud, bog, dead trees and shrubs, here and there ruins, sometimes reeds and brown-green marsh grass. Everything as it was. He couldn't see any real difference from the surroundings of Land's End and Stotel. A glance at his multi-function wristwatch showed him he had dozed for more than an hour. Toxic spirits outside Buxtehude or not, they should have long since reached the higher ground that hadn't been burnt by the poisonous waters of the North Sea.
For a second or two, a weather-beaten road sign came into his field of vision. The short moment was enough to allow him to read it: Bremerhaven 14 km.
Pandur reached into his jacket, drew the Secura and pointed it at Freda. "What's the game, chummer?" he said sharply.
The orc woman looked back over her shoulder, saw the gun and turned pale. Her fingers glided forward.
"Keep your hands away from the vidphone!"
The fingers froze.
Druse woke with a start and saw Pandur with a drawn gun. " Hey... chummer," he stammered. "Fuckin' drek! Ya blown a fuse? Have a bad dream? Put that thing away!"
"Yeah?" asked Pandur. "Should I really? You saying it's alright with you that this bitch is running us back to Land's End? You just longing to be barbecued by Proteus?"
Druse made to draw his gun.
"Hands off the gun!" said Pandur sharply.
"Hey, what's the big idea?" Druse wanted to know. "You gone nuts? It's me, your chummer!"
"It's enough if one of us gives the orders round here." Pandur didn't know exactly why he had prevented Druse from drawing his weapon. Runner instinct. The old mistrust of everyone. He could only think of the all too virginal arrow that Druse was supposed to have found under the truck.
"Drek!" swore Freda. "I already told the chummer our route's blocked by toxic spirits. But it just won't go in. Kinda crazy, huh? That's what ya get for being good-natured enough to take strangers along... "
"We're 14 kilometers from Bremerhaven," Pandur interrupted her flow abruptly. "So much for toxic spirits."
"But the toxic spirits..." Freda began.
"Telling lies makes Orcs's tusks fall out," Pandur said. " Didn't you know that, Freda? So, go on, spit it out. Or I'll send you to your beloved zombies on the spot."
The orc woman ab
andoned the attempt to put one over on him. " Was supposed to wait till you weren't lookin' and then drive back," she admitted sheepishly.
"Who ordered it?" Pandur pressed the barrel of his Secura into her fatty tissue.
"Someone with some say." Freda was wriggling.
"With some say where?"
"At the AG."
"You'll put us right back on course for Harburg," Pandur commanded. "Get a move on. And the vidphone stays off, so ka?"
The pilot of the Manta did as she was told. Pandur kept watch on her over her shoulder. As far as he could tell, she did nothing that could have alerted the opposition. That didn't say much. Pandur could well imagine that Proteus was monitoring the progress of the Manta and would respond to the change of course.
As the hovercraft was making a wide turn, bringing it onto an easterly course, Pandur said, "Now I want to know exactly how it was worked. Who approached you? What were you told?"
"Take your pistol outa my ribs first," Freda whined, like a fat child that had had its candy taken off it. It looked as if she would start blubbering any second. "It hurts like hell!"
"Your ribs are still a long ways off," Pandur said, "I'm still in the middle of folds of fat. Just keep your mind on the zombies, sister. They don't feel any pain. And you think a heck of a lot of the zombies, don't you?" But he did her the favor and moved the Secura back. "I'm listening."
"Don't get uptight, chummmer, I'll talk." Freda seemed to have collected herself. "I got a shipment for the arcology on board, but received instructions to stop in Stotel and wait for ya both."
"Details," Pandur demanded. "Who and how?"
"From Tetzlaff, boss of AG Chemie's fleet in Hamburg. Over the vidphone, what else?"
"What did he say exactly?"
"He said the arcology had been attacked by pirates, and they were looking for two survivors. The AG was interested in one of them. The pirates would try to get away from Stotel and I should offer my help. I registered three empty places for Harburg with the MFA and waited..."
"What's the MFA? asked Pandur.
Druse answered for Freda. "An agency that arranges shared rides in the North German Federation. Juri called them and got the tip."