by Jack Conner
“I don’t think he’d hire you for a gunner or enforcer,” Ravic said. “You’re too small, and I doubt you know which end of a gun to fire. But mainly Loqrin’s old-fashioned. He only hires men as enforcers. Between that and his harem—”
“Harem?”
“What is it?”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s it. That’s how I get in.”
“I thought you didn’t want to be a working girl,” Jack said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t let him touch me, of course. I’d play hard to get.”
“Bad idea, Kat,” Jack cautioned. “He’s a monster. Treats his harem toys, like, well, like toys—if, that is, they were owned by a kid that liked to take them apart and recombine them.”
Ravic blew a plume of smoke at the stars. “Of course, if you did do it, I think you’d be safe at first. He likes to make the new ones watch, build up their fear. Of course, I don’t really know. I don’t want to lie to you.”
Her gaze fixed on the corpses. Steam still rose from Fedrik.
“You really think Loqrin has something to do with all this?”
“I’m sure of it,” Ravic said.
The storm was moving off, and a cold breeze rustled Katya’s short dark hair. She wanted nothing more than a hot shower and dry clothes. And maybe another sip of that whiskey.
“Okay,” she said. Her voice was small but determined. “The Fifth Warders are my people, too. I’ll do what I can. But I swear if he lays one finger on me I’ll gut him.”
“Thank you,” Ravic said.
“Just remember our deal,” she said. “I do this, I’m part of your organization. And you’ll keep Sedic off my back.”
“If both you and the organization are still in one piece at the end of this, no problem. But ... if you fail, there might not be any organization left.”
She steeled herself. “So—how do I get an introduction to this creep—Loqrin?”
Ravic pointed at Jack. “Jack’s your boy. I’d use him if I were you.”
“Use him?” She looked at Jack. “What does he mean?”
Jack inhaled on his cigarette, then blew a long plume. “He means that I’m a spy. And I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing. You see,” he added, leaning forward and speaking in a conspiratorial whisper, “I’m on my way to meet with Loqrin right now.”
Katya felt dizzy. With some effort, she straightened, looked Jack in the eyes, what she could see of them, and said, “Then I’m coming with you.”
As the car rumbled along, Katya enjoyed the smell of leather and taste of tobacco smoke on her tongue. She played her free hand over the plush seats and lolled her head against the soft headrest.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Jack said, seeing her enjoyment and maybe liking it a little too much.
She blew a cloud of smoke out of the window.
“It’ll do.”
The truth was she felt a thousand times better. They’d allowed her a quick shower, given her a change of clothes and put some more food in her belly. It had only been onion rings and a stuffed pepper, but it had tasted delicious. She still had the flavor of grease on her tongue.
“I’m so glad you approve,” he said. “However grudgingly.”
“Hey, just being honest.” Earlier when she’d ridden in his limo, she hadn’t been in a mood to enjoy it much. Now, refreshed and employed, she loved it. This thing was fricking amazing.
Fear still gnawed at her. They were on their way to rendezvous with Loqrin Mars. About to meet the enemy, Kat-o-mine. Look sharp.
“What’s he like, Loqrin?” she said.
Jack grimaced. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“You really think he’s behind the haunts?”
“Someone is.”
She tapped the cigarette against the window. A stream of ash and sparks trailed into the night.
“Fine,” he said. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, how long’s he been Boss?”
“He’s been in power about ten years. Before him was Seqrin. Before him Reqrist. Before him ... Meqrith, I think.”
“Similar kinda names. Related?”
“No one knows where they come from. There’s a long line of them. About the time one vanishes, he’ll appoint an heir. When the Boss retires, the new one steps in. They’ve performed the dance so many times it’s seamless by now, and all his lieutenants seem to accept it. At any rate, they have no choice. All the Bosses share similar ... peculiarities.”
“Like what?”
He gestured vaguely. “You’ll see.”
She sucked on her cigarette and stared out at the Fifth Ward. There were the usual sprawling tenements, bombed-out buildings, squat temples, belching factories. By the lights of street-lamps she saw rough-looking men and women with too much make-up stroll from bar to bar. The clubs roared with music and neon light. A man exploded through a tavern window and hit the sidewalk. He picked himself up, dusted himself off and threw away his cigar. As he did, another man climbed through the window, rolling his shirtsleeves up as he went. The limo swept on by before Katya could see any actual fighting.
There were lots of taverns in the Fifth Ward, some owned by Ravic. The men in the Ward were tough, their lives hard. Many slaved away in the factories, which in turn were often owned by the dreaded Guild of Alchemists. The Guildsmen treated their employees like shit, Katya knew.
Beside her, Jack remained silent. She sensed something was on his mind, but he didn’t talk about it. Was he worried for her? Part of her wanted to believe it, that someone actually gave a damn about her, but she’d rather there not be any reason to worry in the first place.
As the limo headed east, the buildings changed. Katya saw new streets, strange roads she had never seen before. The one she was on sloped up, hit a crest, then sloped down. Unconsciously she tensed, drew her legs up under her and pushed herself back into the seat.
“Nervous?” Jack asked.
“First time I’ve ever been out of the Fifth,” she said, trying for offhand. Never show weakness, her mother had taught her. Not that her mother had been particularly good at it.
“Really? I figured you’d seen it all, worldly lass like you.”
“Screw you.”
His smile dropped. Katya thought she saw a twist of guilt cross his face. All at once she realized it: he thought he was driving her to her death. Suddenly she began to feel queasy. When she took the last drag on her cigarette and flicked it out the window, sparks flamed and died in the night. Jack’s silence continued. She distracted herself by looking out, and what she saw amazed her.
“The buildings ... they’re leaning ...”
The buildings the limo was passing visibly listed, all in a uniform direction: east. Great shambling tenements, crumbling and cracked, striking high into the night, slightly curved, their tips stretching eastward so that shadow fell on the streets below. Row after row, like sunflowers turning to the sun.
“What in fuck?” she said.
“Haven’t you ever heard of the Hollows?” When she shrugged, Jack told her, “That’s Loqrin’s territory. And his territory’s centered around the Sink.”
“The Sink?”
“Some blame it on the war, on an Urzbein bomb. Some blame it on a sinkhole. Some both. I don’t know which is true, or if something else did it. But sometime during the war the land gave out. That’s where we’re going: the Sink. A great hole. Some say it goes down to the Below itself.”
“Really?” All her life she’d heard about the Below, the network of grand caverns and black abysses under the city. They said a city of the Elders perched on the chasm walls down there, the buildings huge and ancient, having existed long before man shook off the slime and crouched on two legs.
“Really,” Jack said. “This area was built out over a chasm, and part of it collapsed—because of the bomb or what-have-you. You can see what it’s done to the local architecture. Probably an improvement. At any rate, Loqrin’s the Boss of the Hollows—and he should be very
close now.”
“How’re you gonna introduce me to him?”
“Guess I’ll just, you know, say you’re one of my girls, and he’ll take a liking to you, and ...”
She snorted. “I thought you were the brains of Ravic’s operation.”
“You have a better suggestion?”
She pressed a button. “Driver, pull over.”
“What are we doing?” Jack asked.
Katya didn’t answer.
The driver braked and Katya stepped out onto a cracked sidewalk to find that the rain had stopped, but everything still glistened with moisture. The sidewalk was pitted and scarred, and muddy puddles dotted it. Few lights blazed in the nearby buildings, and the weird towers twisted overhead, leaning downhill as though reaching out toward a lover. They looked even stranger and more sinister when she was on foot looking up at them.
Jack followed her, and his goons in the front compartment came, too.
“What’s this all about?” Jack said.
Katya looked from him to the homunculi. The gangly automatons just stood there. Alchemists made them from earth and herbs and other, more occult items. Rain had soaked into the four, making them seem to shine under the starlight. None of the nearby streetlights worked. The homunculi were just tall black shadows with human eyes, opening and closing their claw-like hands, glimmering subtly by the light of stars and moons
“I’ve got a plan,” she said.
Chapter 4
Cursing under her breath, Katya fled down the sidewalk toward the east.
Behind her, two homunculi gave chase.
Shitshitshit, she thought. She should have come up with something better. Anything, really.
The road she ran down sloped, first gently, then sharply. The buildings looming above her seemed to sag more precipitously. Laundry lines strung from one window to another across dank alleyways, clothes flapping like pigeon wings. Drunks and criminals slouched in the shadows.
Breathlessly, Kat ran.
Behind her came the scrape and shuffle of homunculi feet.
Fuckfuckfuck.
People ahead. They lounged against a dirty wall covered in graffiti and posters. One read: Fight the ‘chemists! Join the Underground Brotherhood today!
The people that loitered on the street were pale and strange. Fear lurked in their eyes, and numerous scars covered their hides. One scrawny, pasty woman may have been a prostitute, judging by her skimpy attire, but Kat didn’t have time to ask, only whipped past the bystanders and ran on.
Behind her the locals screamed and scattered, spooked by the homunculi.
Katya ducked down an alleyway. A man stepped out from behind a dumpster, knife in hand.
“Well, hello little girl, what have we—”
Scrape, shuffle behind her.
The man bolted. Kat followed.
She turned left at the next alley, continued east down the slope. Buildings with cracked walls listed on either side. It stank of shit and garbage. A fat man in a fourth floor apartment leaned out his window and dumped a bucket into the alley below. Kat ducked under it, hurt a splash, and smelled something foul. She hoped the homuncs would slip in it, but by the continued scraping and shuffling she judged they hadn’t.
She spun left at the next alley, right at the next, left again. The sounds of the homuncs faded. A little.
Her heart hammered inside her ribs. Sweat coursed down her face.
Jack Jack Jack, she thought. I’ll fucking MURDER you! She’d told him to give her thirty seconds head start before sending two of the homuncs after her, but either he hadn’t listened or else they hadn’t. That was a frightening thought. The homuncs could only think and reason to a small degree, just enough to follow simple instructions. They might not differentiate between chase and tear into a thousand chunks.
At last the buildings ended. Katya ran across a wide, cobbled road. A horse-drawn carriage nearly ran her down. The driver cursed her. She wanted to curse back but couldn’t draw enough breath. Her lungs burned.
The wide road made a huge circle around ... some sort of hole ahead. Could it be? The hole was massive, maybe two hundred yards across or more, a huge pit plunging down into darkness. On the other side of it the roads sloped up and the buildings leaned west, not east. All of the roads in the area sloped down to the great pit, and the buildings listed toward it. The Sink, she thought. The sinkhole. Stupid.
A prominence overhung the black pit, a visitor’s platform. Two limousines parked in front of it. Men with large guns stood in tense arcs, one for each car, while two well-dressed men shook hands in the center.
Furious, Kat ran toward them.
The goons noticed her. One barked something. The two men in the center turned to her, apparently surprised. She heard laughter.
Then another sound—scraping, shuffling. It would have been reassuring to hear the labored breath of a human hunter, but there was little human about the homunculi. They did not need to eat, sleep, shit, speak, nor laugh. They were just things.
Katya ran toward the men, now close enough to see Jack. Gas lamps ringed the circumference of the Sink, bathing his face in a phosphorescent glow. She saw tenseness there. Concern.
“Girl!” he shouted, as if he didn’t know her. “Duck!” Hastily he barked an order to his men.
Katya thought she saw what he wanted. Gritting her teeth, she threw herself to the ground. The cobbled road had ended. Pavement scraped her palms, her knees, rasped her cheek.
Gunfire erupted. Rat-rat-rat! Bullets whined over her head. When it tapered off, she smelled gun smoke.
Breathless, her mind spinning, she glanced back to see her pursuers. The homunculi lay in the middle of the road, steaming black puddles of mud and goo. She thought she saw a single claw twitch, then go limp. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Shoe-falls, coming toward her.
Wearily, suddenly on the verge of fainting, she turned to see a man approach. At first she thought it was Jack.
A hand gripped her upper arm, helped her gently but firmly to her feet.
“Thank you,” she said. She didn’t have to feign her breathlessness.
“Why, it’s no trouble at all,” the man said. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Loqrin Mars.”
He stepped back, giving her space. Light fell on him, illuminating his wide, even smile. At the sight, Katya’s heart caught in her throat. Loqrin Mars was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
He had medium-length blond hair that swept back from a high, aristocratic forehead. The rest of him was thoroughly non-aristocratic, though. Broad shoulders, athletic arms and legs, muscles straining against the lines of his tailored suit. Beautiful features with a strong jaw, bold, straight nose, and twinkling eyes. It was too dark still to tell what color they were, but Katya thought they were blue.
“I ... I’m Katya,” she said, hearing the awe in her voice. “Katya Ivreski. Th-Thank you. Sir.” She added this last bit hastily. The part she supposed she was playing was that of a woman raised in the Hollows. She would hold Loqrin in reverence, just as the people of the Fifth Ward held Ravic. In the chaos of Upper Lavorgna, mob bosses kept order, and the people appreciated it.
“Well, that was quite an escape,” Loqrin said, sounding amused.
“Indeed,” Jack said, stepping forward as if to take custody of Kat.
Loqrin beat him to it. Taking her arm, he led her away from the ruins of the homunculi. Truly grateful now, she leaned against a balustrade and found herself staring down into the depths of the Sink. The hole stretched down and down into darkness so rich and deep she could well believe it descended into the core of the planet itself. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if it penetrated through to the Below. A warm wind gusted up from the abyss, streaming her hair back behind her. Still, the pit made her nervous. Despite herself, she pushed herself straight and tried not to look over.
Jack didn’t seem to notice her discomfiture. “I thought they had you for sure,” he said.
Ka
tya resisted the urge to shoot him an angry glare. “S-so did I.” Involuntarily she glanced at the road to reassure herself that the homunculi hadn’t congealed into their old shapes and begun after her again. They hadn’t. She looked back to find Loqrin eyeing her kindly. He reached out a muscular hand and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. The gesture was oddly tender. Was this really the man that was terrorizing the Fifth Ward?
“May I ask how you came to be chased?” His voice was gentle, concerned. He stared right into her eyes as if trying to comfort her. He reached out his hands and held one of hers. He patted it as he spoke.
For a moment her mind blanked. Then, hesitatingly, remembering what Jack had told her to say, she said, “A man ... a man with an eye ... uh, a tattoo of an eye ... It was on his forehead.”
Loqrin scowled. “Reddin! He’s been trying to poach girls for too long.”
“Poach?”
He smiled. “Well, you know who I am. You must know that I constantly have to fight independent operators. People who would, among other things, run their own, ah, escort services. As Boss, it’s my right to tax them, or disband them. Some, most notably that fool Reddin, persist in trying to exist outside my authority.” A cold look came over him, and for a moment Katya could see something terrible inside him. “I will deal with him, oh yes.” Then it passed, like a dark cloud on a sunny day. He brightened. His gaze wandered up and down her, weighing, judging. Behind him Jack tensed again. When Loqrin spoke next, it was calculating, coaxing. “I don’t suppose a girl as pretty as you would mind ... accompanying me ... for a while. I will be sure to make it worth your while.”
Gotcha. “I-I don’t know. I’m not ... I mean to say ...”
“Oh. Of course.” Loqrin looked embarrassed. “Why couldn’t I see it? You’re a girl of class. I didn’t mean to offend.” His voice was nervous, conciliatory, but underneath it there was something else.
“Oh, uh, none taken,” she said, thinking, Don’t make this TOO easy for him. “I mean, I’m honored, but—”
“But you’re not that kind of girl. Understood.” His manner started to become brusque. He dropped her hand, started to turn to Jack.