by Unknown
"Hey, hey, maybe it was your own people," Pandur reminded her.
The orc spat out, "Drekheads who want blow me to hell ain't my people. Don't matter what I thought before."
"That's the right attitude," Pandur praised.
"Not what I think," said Druse. "You oughta know which side you're on. Or you end up between all the stools."
His voice sounded unusual. Husky. Tense. Dangerously soft. There was suppressed anger in it. And wild determination.
Suddenly he jerked round to the rear and pointed his Beretta at Pandur.
"Don't take the risk of goin' for your gun!" he warned. He relaxed a little when he saw that Pandur was trying nothing of the kind. He felt around for the rifle with his free hand and pulled it onto the front seat. He continued to keep the pistol pointing at Pandur and watched him closely. "Few things went wrong. I've got no choice other than to take matters into my own hands."
He turned to Freda. "You stay outa this, get me? If ya keep your ass at ground zero, I won't tell your bosses about your little desertion. But I demand your cooperation from now on in!"
Freda looked at him with a fixed expression. She looked more than ever like a fat frog that saw the world but didn't understand it. For a frog, the world was made up of three kinds of moving things: those that were smaller than itself and therefore suitable food, those that were the same size and suitable for mating, and those that were bigger than itself and had to be avoided.
Although Freda was no frog, but a metahuman with more complex thought processes, her overly high intake of television had inculcated similar values in her. It was no wonder she no longer understood the world. Enemies became friends, friends enemies. She was probably waiting for an offer to mate. Then this madness would at least have method.
For Druse it was enough to see the orc was dumbfounded. He paid no further attention to her.
"What Freda said before also goes for me," he turned back to Pandur. "It's nothing personal, chummer. I like ya, Walez. I really like ya. You're a good chummer and I oughta be grateful to ya for saving my life. So I am. But you're my only chance.
And my ass is a whole lot more important to me than yours. So ka?"
When Pandur didn't reply, he continued, "What're ya thinking, Walez?"
"That you're a fucking drekhead!" Pandur spat out. He was stunned but not really surprised. His instinct had told him that Druse couldn't be trusted. It had been proved right. But that didn't help him much. He hadn't expected an attack at this point.
Druse grinned. "Can understand ya well, chummer. I'd think the same way in your position. I know I'm a drekhead, chummer."
"Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa," said Pandur contemptuously. " You should join the Catholic Church. You'd have an audience for that stuff."
"Yeah, go ahead and sneer. But I mean what I say. It's really not a nice thing to double-cross a chummer. I sure don't enjoy doin' it. But I'm kind of attached to this fucked-up, lousy life. Plan to lay a few more chicks. Without havin' to be scared all the time that Proteus's gonna rub me out."
Pandur was feverishly trying to work out what Druse had in mind. Whoever it was that had attacked them, he made no distinctions, was willing to accept that everybody in the Manta would be killed. Druse had escaped for the moment and should have been satisfied with that. Pandur couldn't fit it all together.
"I'm gonna sell ya to AG Chemie," said Druse. With almost indecent curiosity, he watched what effect this would have on the other man.
"For a full ebbie?"
"Crap." Druse grinned. Then he prepared to deliver the triumphant blow, was totally aware of its impact, was enjoying his role center stage. "AG Chemie wants ya, Walez. And Proteus wants me. Did ya know the two of them had common interests, worked together in some areas? If I fulfil AG Chemie's big wish, they're prepared to put in a good word for me with Proteus, perhaps make a material settlement. Then Proteus might be ready to forget some...hmm... let's say some differences they had with a former employee. Ya see? It's a sort of complex barter agreement that brings pleasure and good things to all concerned. Your bad luck is that you're the only one to come out the loser. But someone's gotta be the sucker, right? That's the way it is in life."
At last Druse had let the cat out of the bag. It was now clear to Pandur what was going on. Druse wanted to clear his accounts at Pandur's expense. While his mind was working, he sensed Druse trying to explore his face. He seemed disappointed that Pandur received the news without any perceptible reaction.
"The early bird catches the worm, huh?"
Druse was taken aback. Then he understood and laughed. "Yeh, you're right. I didn't just lie in bed with Juri; I used the time to get in touch with AG Chemie."
"They don't seem to have believed you, do they?" "
What makes ya say that?"
"Otherwise they would've hunted me down in Stotel."
"Drek! Do ya think I put all my cards on the table? I'd be so stupid. Just told them I'd deliver ya and only needed a truck. Everything nice and quiet. No trap, no guardsmen. The truck pilot cooperative but not in on the details. I gotta lot of respect for ya, Walez. I know ya got a sixth sense for that kind of thing. I did my best to make everything look believable. Got clothes and stuff. Ya know all that."
"And then you tried to blow me away with an arrow."
Druse waved this away. "Bullshit! Never held a bow in my hand in my entire life."
If it wasn't Druse, then who? The elven hitman? The kids that ran away? Or was Druse lying to him again?
A picture was slowly forming from the pieces of mosaic. AG Chemie must have only half believed Druse, but had given him a chance. It was only when the Manta didn't return as agreed that they chartered a helicopter in a hurry and sent a few security men off in it.
Or was Druse deceiving himself? Did AG Chemie inform Proteus? Was it that Proteus ddn't give two hoots for Druse's deal and despatched a death squad instead? But how did Druse know it was AG Chemie hunting me? From Tupamaro?
As Pandur stayed silent, Druse seemed to realize that Pandur was working on the information and had drawn his own conclusions. Druse couldn't see a way to continue in his role of superior planner. His store of surprises was almost exhausted. So now he played his last card.
"Oh, by the way, Walez," he said as if incidentally. "Ya don't need to have any fears of failure. AG Chemie doesn't want anything special from ya. Actually, they don't want anything at all from ya. They just wanna see ya dead. And they don't give a shit who organizes it for them."
His finger curled around the trigger of the Beretta.
Chapter Five
"No Expectations"
Founded at the beginning of the 9th Century, Hamburg enjoyed its first flowering at the time of the Hanseatic League and has since vigorously consolidated its position as port and trading center. At the turn of the millenium there was an increase in the characteristic unrest among its inhabitants. Unemployment the housing shortage and crime, as well as the inability of the government to find satisfactory solutions to these problems gave rise to chaotic conditions in Hamburg too, which the megaconglomerates exploited to strengthen and extend their preeminence independently of the state. The Great Flood of 2011 the massive waves of refugees from eastern Europe, the devastating VITAS epidemic and the anarchist movements which had been a constant feature of Hamburg nevertheless prevented the megacons from taking total control.
Hamburg is largely spared the effects of the Eurowars, yet in its streets war of a quite different kind is being waged: violent clashes between conglomerate guardsmen and anarchists of the most diverse persuasions are a daily occurrence. In 2053, despite what amounts almost to a civil war and serious social problems, Hamburg remains the major hub for the European economy...
When, at the turn of the millenium the Senate capitulated in the face of the problems arising from crime, drugs housing need unemployment and the accommodation required for refugees, the subsequent elections in 1999 produced substantial changes. The CDU and SPD lo
st a large share of the votes. The sensational winner, following the disbanding of the GAL in 1996, was the FDP which entered the Hamburg state government with 22.4% of the vote.
After the formation of a coalition government from representatives of the FDP and CDU massive upheavals took place. The Senate was subverted by the megaconglomerates and the attempt was made to eradicate Hafenstrasse as an anarchist center. When this bid failed, the neo-anarchist movement spread to large parts of the Reeperbahn district. Several neo-anarchist political groups were formed at this time.
After the regrouping of the two main parties and the introduction of the 3% provision, lasting changes to the Hamburg government occurred in the elections for the Lower House at the beginning of the 21st Century. Some tiny anarchist parties achieved their first electoral success. Furthermore parties such as USPD ESP, LDFP CVP and even the Greens (after their re-establishment in 2007) entered the Lower House. With the emergence of UGE and the "Awakening" of metahumans extreme right-wing groups, such as the Party of National Renewal, also gained sufficient votes in Hamburg to enter the Lower House in 2023. After the elections there was street fighting between anarchos and neo-Nazis, mainly in the right-wing bastions of Pinneberg Ahrensburg and the Bergedorf district including Geesthacht. By this point the small neo-anarchist parties had amalgamated to form the Anarcho-Syndicalist Union and achieved their first great success in 2027 in the elections to Hamburg's Lower House. This success was to be repeated in subsequent elections. From 2031 to the present day the PNE and the Greens have been unable to accomplish any large electoral successes thus not managing to clear the 3% hurdle and so enter the Lower House.
At present the government is formed by the USPD and tolerated by the ASU, yet the two groups are aware of their narrow lead. Should the LDFP under the leadership of the megacons, ever increase their vote, a coalition between LDFP, CVP and ESP would be likely. This might well invoke the specter of conditions approaching civil war, since the ASU will make every effort to challenge the predominance of the cons regardless of the consequences.
Dr Natalie Alexandrescu: Hamburg, Venice of the North, German History on Vidchips, VC 5, Erkrath 2051
Pandur had looked death in the face too often to be really dismayed. Almost mechanically his brain registered the fact that the inevitable moment had come. Cash in the chips, pick out the cyberware, throw the rest in the tomb, over and out.
Or the trip into the Great Eternal Matrix. Couldn't be bad. Whatever goes on there, nobody can blast holes in your body because you don't have one.
He waited for the bullets to enter his body and hoped he would die quickly.
The worst thing would be if the drekhead louses it up, leaves a bullet lodged in your brain and reduces you to a babbling idiot. Jesus, why's he taking so long?
Druse was a long way from being as calm as he made out. And he had no practical experience of shooting someone point-blank. He hadn't lied either. He wouldn't enjoy killing Pandur. He was doing it for himself, to save his own damn ass, and for other reasons that had nothing to do with Pandur. He was doing it because he felt he had to.
Druse hesitated. He made it really hard on himself.
He waited too long.
In the next instant Freda plunged the ten-centimeter-long and one-centimeter-wide blade of her folding knife into his chest up to the hilt. She was an orc woman, a very fat orc woman. She wasn't very nimble, but she was powerful. She had strength.
Druse's finger wasn't curled far enough to release the shot by reflex. Just the opposite - his finger jerked the other way. The whole hand twitched and then became limp. The Beretta slipped out of it and fell to the floor. It fell on its flat side. The shot meant for Pandur was never fired.
Druse's eyes had widened in disbelief. The shock had already hit him. Now, delayed, the pain reached him. Druse uttered a cry, wild and animal-like. Deeply disappointed. But more than anything it contained the untamable fear every creature feels when it is driven to the edge of death's jaws.
In a reflex action Pandur dived to the floor of the cockpit. His body did what it had wanted to do before. Pandur had denied it because he saw evasive action as pointless. He slammed against the front seat.
When he had picked himself up again, he grabbed Druse's pistol and put on the safety. He straightened up completely. His shoulder hurt but he didn't bother about it. His ankle was also making itself felt, but he had no time to worry about it. He bent over the back of the front seat and looked at Druse.
The redhead had sagged, his backside having slid down from the seat so that his back lay strangely arched on the cushioning. The hilt of the knife protruded from his chest. A large red stain had formed around it on the anorak and was right in front of the naga's muzzle. It looked as if the critter were sniffing at a raw chunk of meat held out to it on a spit as a sacrificial offering.
Next to Druse sat Freda. Stiff as a board. Mute. Her eyes protruded even further from their sockets than usual. Her face looked more distraught than Druse's. She seemed to be in a state of shock. She had probably never before thrust a blade between someone's ribs. Not the sort of thing you do if you don't have to. It was likely she hadn't even known she was capable of it.
Druse's hands came up. They slid to the handle of the knife in his chest.
"Don't!" said Pandur sharply. "If you pull it out you'll bleed to death within five minutes!"
Druse paused. His hands moved slowly to the cushioning to support his body. With an effort, he levered himself up into a sitting position.
Pandur stared at the man who had wanted to kill him and now himself lay at death's door. He was badly shaken. He believed he could feel the knife in his own chest. He had seen a whole lot of blood in his time. There were worse images in his head. Severed limbs and heads, innards turned inside out, guts spilling out. But he hadn't become inured to it and never would be.
The knife had been driven into Druse's right side, through the ribs, through the liver, into the right lung. Pandur had no idea if anyone could survive it. Although the redhead had wanted to send him to kingdom come he felt sorry for Druse. Pandur himself had hoped for a clean death and had feared it less than a long, slow wasting-away. He wished Freda had found Druse's heart.
With glazed eyes, sweat on his brow, Druse wiped pink foam from his lips with the back of the hand.
"Walez... I'm sorry," Druse stammered.
"It's yourself you should feel sorry for," said Pandur drily. It was hard to talk to a half-dead man who had almost been his murderer.
Druse fought for breath. "It was... a mistake," he said with an effort. "Kinda matches all the rest... I made... a lot of mistakes... in my life. This was the biggest... To believe... I could... buy my own life... with someone else's."
"Druse..." said Pandur, looking him in the face. "Don't expect me to play the jester and tell you you'll be chipper again in two weeks. Iron in the chest is not conducive to good health. Any doctor will tell you that. But one thing you should know: it wasn't nice of you to do what you did. Apart from that it was dumb. Did you seriously believe you could get back in with Proteus this way? Drek! What were you there? Exec?"
"Chief buyer for genetic research," Druse replied.
"So, a leading sarariman. Drek, don't you understand? The place can get along without you. They don't want you back. They don't reinstate people they were out to kill. That could get talked about, that sort of poor performance leads to a bullet in the head. Not good for the atmosphere in the office, so ka?"
Freda began to stir again. She opened a compartment somewhere below the on-board computer and took out paper handkerchiefs and pressed a whole wad of them into Druse's hand. Druse put one to his mouth, spat bloody saliva into it and wiped his mouth and chin.
Pandur carefully reclined the back of the front seat so that Druse could stretch out. Carrying him to the bunk seemed too great a risk.
"Is the pain bad?" Freda asked. She avoided looking at him. "I feel fine..." Druse gave back. "'Cept... I got... itchy balls.
Ya could... scratch them for me."
"Fuckin' jackhead!" the orc cursed. She seemed glad she could let off steam. "Anyway, if the pain gets too bad, just say the word. Got tranqpatches in the first-aid kit and a traumapatch as well if it's needed."
That's something at least, thought Pandur. If Druse didn't bleed to death internally, a traumapatch could keep him alive a few hours. It was stuck down over the patient's heart and released a cocktail of drugs into the blood supply which stabilized the entire system. The stuff was highly toxic and produced side-effects. But anyone who was close to kicking off had to take what he could get.
"Later... maybe... if still necessary."
"Don't you have a BuMoNa contract as a not-quite exec?" "
Was cancelled... when I... left the joint."
Pandur should have known. With BuMoNa, Druse would have had a good chance. One call and the flying docs would have coptered him out of here in ten minutes. As soon as they had him on board they would have got on with the all-round overhaul: microsurgery, buckets of medkit, mountains of artificial skin, biotech enplants, whatever was required. But BuMoNa only came if the valid code of the contract was quoted. Otherwise all you got to hear on the vidphone was a sweet nurse wishing you a speedy recovery, followed by a commercial. In BuMoNa clinics, however, anyone was admitted if he could pay in advance. They didn't even ask for your SSIN.
"Would Juri's ecus be enough for a clinic?" asked Pandur.
Druse gave a slight shake of the head.
"I got just about 1000 in my credstick," Freda offered. "
Kind of you," said Pandur. "But that won't be enough. Let's hope a streetdoc can help him. Where are we exactly?"
Freda switched on the computer and called up the data. "
Another 48 kilometers to Harburg."
"Isn't there any hole that's closer?"
Buxthude. But that's where the toxic spirits are."
"You starting to believe your own garbage?"
"That was no garbage, chummer," Freda protested. "Just came at the right time. Buxtehude really is bein' besieged by toxic spirits. We'll have to take a long detour round it." "