by Jack Conner
Her face must have betrayed some of her thoughts, or maybe it was her fidgeting hands. Jack said, “Feeling a bit over your head, are you?”
“Not a bit of it.” She took a deep breath, let it out. “Have a cigarette?”
A bodyguard produced one, and another flicked a silver cigarette lighter for her. She took a hit, then a second, and blew the smoke in Jack’s face. That only seemed to excite him. It was weird to look into a dead face and see randiness there, but that’s what she saw. Well, she supposed, at least his lower parts would be normal. It was only his head that was dead.
“Ever been to the fights?” he asked.
This time she blew the cloud of smoke to the side, out of the corner of her mouth.
“No.”
A horn blew. All attention turned to a tall, curvaceous figure striding into the blood-stained arena below. It was a buxom woman in fish-net stockings, tight short black leather skirt and low-cut top, tattoos up and down her arms.
“Perhaps we should linger for a moment, then,” Jack said. “Increase your cultural perspective.”
The woman below held a microphone. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourselves!” she called, her voice ringing clear and loud. The audience responded lustily, hooting and hollering, banging beer bottles together, stamping feet. The wave of sound hurt Katya’s ears. She pressed her palms over them. Yet, at the same time, she felt a smile creep over her face, and a jolt of fire flushed through her veins. “Well, as it happens,” the woman continued, “the man himself would like to entertain you!”
More hooting and hollering, even louder.
“That’s Vivia,” Jack said, speaking through cupped hands directly into Katya’s ear. “An interesting woman. You might get to know her.”
“Would you like a show?” Vivia roared. She thrust the microphone outward, toward the crowd, and the crowd responded wildly.
“Is Ravic really going to fight himself?” Katya said.
“I’m sure he’ll fight other people,” Jack laughed.
“Well, with no further ado, welcome to the darkness!” Vivia said.
The overhead lights flickered out, plunging the Pit Room into utter blackness save for the furnace in its corner, though even its light was mostly hidden by the ranks of spectators. As soon as darkness fell, the crowd hushed, except for numerous excited whispers. Kat held her breath. Seats creaked as people leaned forward ...
Without warning, a great gout of flame shot high into the room, roaring out of a hole directly in the center of the arena. Katya gasped and jumped back. The spurt of flame licked so high she feared it would incinerate the overhead lights. Then, instantly, the flame shut off. As soon as it did, a dozen smaller fires erupted from the circumference of the Pit. They flickered sullenly at first, then, as one, they surged upward, throwing light on the middle of the arena, where a broad-shouldered figure stood, a man that could only be Boss Ravic.
By the light of the flames, Katya saw a tall, thick-chested man with bristly beard and long curly hair. Boots covered his feet and ragged pants his legs. His big chest was bare, and a long fur coat of some kind depended from his shoulders. Fire-light glistened on his many scars.
And in his hands, he held some object, large and phallic ...
Katya stared.
A chainsaw.
Ravic wasted no time. He pulled a chord, and the chainsaw emitted an industrial-sounding roar. A dozen trapdoors exploded open in every direction around him. The crowd screamed as a Returner scrambled out of each one and flew at Ravic, like starved dogs on a piece of meat.
Ravic stepped forward, swung his weapon—
A head bounced to the floor.
Another Returner reached for him. He waved the chainsaw. Hands flew through the air. More and more of the reanimated, patchwork dead fell on him, gnashing their teeth and raking at him with their nails, and he cut them down, piece by piece. Arms and legs flew, and half-clotted blood sprayed him. He tore through them like a bull. His chainsaw cleaved and chewed. Gore sprayed from it in fountains. To Katya he almost looked like he was dancing, weaving and ducking and spinning, lit by fire and savagery ...
Part of her wanted to cheer. Part of her wanted to retch.
Finally all the Returners flopped in pieces on the ground. Ravic switched off his chainsaw and raised his bloody arms to the crowd. They stood and screamed out their love and awe.
Then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, Ravic vanished. The fires died and the lights flickered back on, stinging everyone’s eyes, and when Katya could stand to look back into the arena, Ravic was no longer there.
Tattooed men began sweeping body parts to the side of the Pit.
“Wow,” she said. “What a showman.”
A touch of jealously entered Jack’s voice. “Oh, yes, he is many things.”
Katya looked at him with new respect. “How long have you worked for him?”
“A long time.”
Below, Vivia strutted back out into the Arena as men broomed aside the last of the body parts. “Now for some more fun,” she said into her microphone. “Let us introduce our lucky contestants.”
Doors opened in the side of the Arena, and gladiators strode out. Katya knew that the rest of the night would involve willing men and women fighting each other and Returners, homunculi or steam-men, to the death (or destruction, in the case of the latter), for money and fame.
“This is horrible,” Katya said. “Why do you people do this?”
“Ask Ravic,” Jack said.
“Ask me what?” said a voice from behind.
Katya whirled. A large, burly figure was materializing out of the crowd. He must have taken some tunnel under the arena. Bodyguards surrounded him, pushing back the throng. Upon seeing him, the people cheered and would have surged forward to greet him were it not for the guards.
Boss Ravic stepped toward Jack and Katya, and she saw that he was older than she’d thought. Gray streaked his hair and beard, and lines crinkled the skin around his eyes. Thick chest hair bristled from every inch of his front, and scars shone through it like knotted worms. Even his chest hair was more gray than not. Still, he was an impressive figure, huge and broad-shouldered. The whole effect was bestial, which, Katya supposed, was the point. This was a man that needed to be feared and respected. If she’d had any doubts, the show he had just put on would have dispelled them.
“Why are you letting those men kill each other?” she demanded, stabbing a finger in the direction of the Pit.
Ravic took her in, then hooked an eyebrow at Jack. “What’s this, a new filly?”
Jack shrugged. “Katya Ivreski. She says she wants a word with you.”
“Does she now?” Ravic stroked his beard. “Interesting.” He regarded her for a moment longer, then returned his attention to Jack. “My men saw you arrive. You have news?” There seemed to be some significance to this statement that was lost on Katya.
Grim, Jack nodded. “I do.”
“Then come.”
Ravic marched off, clearly expecting them to trail in his shadow as if he were some magnet, and like shards of graphite Katya and Jack followed. The army of bodyguards shoved people out of the way as Ravic led them all to one corner of the Pit Room. Katya saw that in each of the corners, except for the one with the furnace, there stood some sort of metal contraption, and a scaffold-like device that ascended to the smoke-wreathed ceiling high above.
“Oh no,” she said, too low for any to hear.
She’d heard of elevators but never thought she’d ride in one, and the sight made her hesitate.
Vivia waited for them at the lift. Beautiful and with high red hair, she slunk over to Ravic and threw her lissome arms about him. She had long legs, an elegant neck, and emerald green eyes. She seemed sleek, tiger-like—half as bestial as Ravic.
“You did brilliantly,” she said.
The Boss encircled her in his arms and lifted her off the ground. She squealed in delight. They kissed, and Katya wanted to gag.
While this was going on, servants held open the elevator door for them. Ravic and Vivia ended their affections, and the big man entered the compartment. Vivia followed, her hand in his, yapping on about his show. Katya tuned her out.
Jack entered next.
On the threshold, Katya paused.
“This is your last chance to back out,” Jack said.
She paused, then looked back at the throng of revelers. Any one of them could be an agent of Sedic.
She stepped over the elevator’s threshold, and the doors slammed shut behind her. The noise seemed very loud.
Chapter 2
An engine roared, and the elevator lurched upward. The tight space stank of grease, unwashed bodies, vomit, smoke and sex. Graffiti scrawled along the walls, some of it scratched into the metal itself. Obviously the elevator had been in use for many years, and the Factory’s patrons had made good use of it. Jack explained that it used to be a public elevator like the other two that would take patrons to the casino or brothel on the levels above, but in recent years Ravic had appropriated it for his own private mode of transportation between floors. Katya wished he’d put in a new unit when he’d done it. She could barely tolerate the stink, although some of the graffiti looked interesting.
Ravic, grinning and plainly on fire with adrenaline, seemed to take up most of the space, but Katya wasn’t sure if this was really the case or if his personality simply sucked up all the room by itself.
His eyes glittered savagely and he pressed close to the doorway, staring down at the Pit and its throngs, a giant gazing out at his empire.
Below, the gathering about the base of the elevator shouted, “RA-VIC! RA-VIC! RA-VIC!”
“Fools,” he said, but he said it warmly.
“Oh, but who could resist you?” Vivia purred. She ran her hands up and down one of his tree-trunk arms.
He sighed, and there was a trace of lament in the sound. He said nothing, and Katya wondered if he doubted Vivia’s affection. Katya sure did.
She turned to give Jack a look and found him already watching her. He didn’t seem embarrassed by her catching him at it, though. Katya wasn’t sure if she was relieved when he looked away or not. She really was in over her head, he’d been right about that much.
She pressed back against the far wall, not willing to look down into the depths as they shrank below. Her stomach twisted, and she tasted bile in the back of her throat. The world heaved and spun around her. Don’t upchuck, she told herself. As first impressions went, that would be a bad one. Maybe a fatal one.
The elevator climbed, ticking with every inch. At last Ravic finished with Vivia and turned hard gray-green eyes on Jack.
“So what’s the news?”
“It’s not good,” Jack said. “Our friend is behind the attack on the Gin-Cat Club, just like we thought.”
“Shit.”
“And it doesn’t get better. I have it on good authority that he’ll strike again, and soon.”
Ravic slammed a fist into the palm of his hand. “I wish I could throw him into the Pit. What could he want? Is it war? Does the stupid bastard want another war?” Katya could see his large jaw bunching even through his beard. “I’ll give it to him, by the gods, see if I won’t. I’ve got one more big fight left in me.”
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know what he wants.”
“There’s the problem. Only a fool would start a war now, and he’s no fool. If only ...” He turned about once again. This time Katya didn’t think he was staring down into Pit Room, but off into the distance, somewhere unseen, maybe unseeable. She wanted to ask him about the men in the Pit, to demand he account for their deaths, but sensed this wasn’t the time.
Ravic spat, and with the gesture he seemed to switch gears. A new worry shone in his eyes. “What about last night’s haunt attack? The one on Gaether. Is there a body count yet?”
“Seven this time. One survived and had to be institutionalized after he tried to bash his brains out on the sidewalk.”
“Magnar on a stick, this has got to end. Just what are they, anyway, the haunts?”
Jack had no answer. The elevator reached the casino floor and Katya saw the banks of gambling machines, green tables around which men and women gathered. Dice flashed. A groan went up. At another table an obese woman threw down her cards with a laugh and proceeded to rake in the colored chips in the middle of the table.
Tick, tick, tick went the elevator.
It ascended past the brothel floor. Katya saw what had been one of the three lobbies back when this elevator had been open to the public but was now just an empty room from which a velvet-lined hallway led. A pretty, tired-looking girl led a man by the hand—they’d been coming from the other direction—and together they disappeared into a doorway spanned by a bead curtain.
The elevator passed this level, then another, probably the (authorized) loan shark level. At last a chime sounded, and the elevator lurched to a stop. Katya staggered and fell back against the rear wall. Jack attempted to steady her, but she evaded him.
Ravic emerged into a dark hallway, Vivia hanging from his arm like an ornament. A leech.
“Come on,” Jack told Katya, and followed his master.
Kat wished she had another cigarette. She supposed she would have to get her own pack at some point. She pried herself out of the elevator and followed the others down the dark hallway. Almost immediately she noticed the strange smell. Chemicals and herbs. Almost like—
A hand snatched at her hair.
She yelped. Jumped forward. Another groped at her ankle. She screamed and stomped down on it. A hand snatched at her hip. She twisted, bounding forward to catch up with Jack. The floor of the tunnel was spongy, and she noticed the shape of the tunnel was not rectangular but round, and the space was hot, moist ...
“What the hell?” she said, slapping another hand away.
Jack chuckled. “Look and see.” He flicked a cigarette lighter, illuminating a patch of wall.
Katya jumped back. Then, when nothing attacked her, she craned her head forward.
“Is that really ... ?”
“Yes, indeed.”
A human eye stared back at her from the wall. A fold of dark flesh-like material eclipsed it, then slid back. It had blinked.
“What the hell?”
Jack steered her forward. Ravic and Vivia had already vanished from sight.
“Homunculi material,” Jack explained. “Really a big homunculus, one with many eyes and appendages. They don’t have to look human, you know. Alchemists can sculpt them to look like anything.”
“Yeah, but a hallway ... ? I mean, I’m all for fancy architecture, but Magnar!”
“A security measure. The homunc hallway is trained only to admit Ravic, his lieutenants and anyone that they deem safe, or who’s accompanied by same.”
“And if they’re not accompanied?”
“And Ravic hasn’t taught the hallway to let them be?” Jack shrugged. “They don’t make it to the end of the hall, then, do they?”
When the two passed out of the hall, Kat breathed a sigh of relief. The homunculi material did not extend around the bend. A normal, rectangular-shaped hallway stretched on—well, normal except that it was composed of large stone blocks. Torches mounted on brackets stuck out from the walls.
“What is this, a castle?”
“Sort of,” Jack admitted. “Ravic really does have a love of the medieval. Obsession, some say.”
The hallway emptied out into a largish room, floor, ceiling and walls all composed of the same sort of stone blocks. Torches flared along the walls, and a great stone fireplace dominated the middle of the chamber.
“Damn,” Kat said. The fireplace was big enough for Ravic to have stood in without stooping. The flames roared, bright and hot. This is what makes the red light in the windows. Embedded in the stone walls between the torches glimmered the thick glass of the windows themselves. Passing the Factory on numerous occasions she’d wondered what went on on the oth
er side of those windows, and here she was about to find out.
Jack led the way around the great fireplace and Katya saw what had been hidden by the gray bulk of the chimney. What could only be described as a throne perched near the far wall. Made of stone, it reared over the room, mounted at the head of a short flight of steps. A dais. There Ravic was just sitting down, sighing wearily. A beautiful young woman in silks and jewels placed a goblet of what was probably wine in his hands, and he gave her a pat on the rump as she turned away. Vivia shot the girl a glare and slid into Ravic’s lap with the grace and proprietorship of a tigress. For all that, he held her only half-heartedly.
As he drank from his goblet, wine sloshed over the rim and trickled into his beard. He drained it all in one go. Burped.
“Ahh.”
The young woman refilled the goblet as Jack and Katya approached. Katya wasn’t sure if this had been such a good idea. Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten into that stupid elevator after all.
“About what we were saying—our friend still doesn’t suspect?” Ravic said.
“Not a whiff,” Jack said.
“Good. That gives us one edge, at least. Would that we had more.” The Boss drained this goblet of wine, too.
“He’s mainly striking from the east, from the Hollows,” Jack said.
“Perhaps it would be prudent to fortify our positions there. We’d have to draw men away from the other areas, principally the west, but it might be worth it. We can’t let it continue like this.”
“Shall I summon a war council?” Jack said. “I could have the other lieutenants here within an hour ...”