Lasgun Wedding

by Will McDermott

  He was almost next to Ramone. ‘So, let’s all sit back and see where this wedding takes us, shall we? I promise it will be fun and profitable for all.’

  Kal was within striking distance of Ramone, and his hand rested on the pommel of his sabre at the end of his speech.

  Ramone began to clap the slow clap of someone completely unimpressed by Kal’s showmanship.

  ‘Nice speech, Jerico,’ he said. ‘You might have actually made a decent Lord of Hive Primus. But that honour will now go to me!’

  Kal pulled out his sword, but Ramone was quicker. He whipped a laspistol from his jacket and fired at Kal’s head.

  Kal dove to the side as the blast sheared off one of his epaulets. He swiped at Ramone with his sabre, catching his younger cousin in the leg with a glancing blow.

  Yolanda returned fire, but Ramone ducked behind some of the panicking guests. The entire hall erupted in screams as guests ran towards the exits, getting drenched in the fountain jets.

  ‘Katerin,’ yelled Kal. ‘Why don’t your men do something?’

  Ramone answered instead from the chaos. ‘Because,’ he said. ‘I control this wedding, not your precious captain. Now!’ At that, a dozen or so security guards by the doors pulled out their weapons and began shooting. Those guests closest to the doors stopped suddenly, causing a mass collision amidst the fountains. Many of them fell under the press from behind and screams of terror turned to screams of pain.

  Kal crawled back to the dais. From there he could see that the guards weren’t shooting into the mass of bodies. They were shooting at the other guards. He looked for Ramone, but his cousin had disappeared into the crowd. Kal pulled out his second laspistol, but couldn’t get a clear shot at any of the guards, and didn’t really know which ones to shoot at anyway.

  ‘Wotan,’ he called. His mastiff trotted out from behind the ice sculpture. Kal had ordered him to stay back there with the priest before the doors to the chapel opened. He wiped the blood off the tip of his sabre and put his fingers up to Wotan’s nose.

  ‘Find Ramone,’ he said. ‘Wotan! Fetch.’

  Kal crawled back towards the arch where Yolanda had taken a defensive position. ‘Having fun on the honeymoon yet, darling?’ he asked.

  Yolanda scowled at him. ‘Call me darling again, and this will be your last honeymoon… ever!’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Kal. ‘Can you get a clear shot at any of Ramone’s guards?’

  Yolanda shook her head. ‘Of course we could just kill everyone and sort it out later.’

  Kal considered it, but then shook his head. ‘Then we would end up as rulers of the hive, and I don’t think either of us wants that.’

  Kal heard Wotan bark and crawled out from behind the arch to have a look. Wotan barked again and then let out a squeaky little yip.

  ‘Nice try, Jerico,’ said Ramone. ‘But I’ve thought of everything. Remember that little gadget you used on Armand to disrupt his spyrer rig? That wasn’t the only one. Your little metal friend is dead.’

  ‘Now, I’m really mad,’ said Kal. ‘Scabbs, go get him!’ Kal looked around but Scabbs was nowhere to be seen.

  Then Kal noticed something else. The weapons fire had stopped. The wedding guests still screamed and tried to hide or at least get out from underneath the pile, but the laser blasts had stopped for the moment.

  ‘Everyone quiet!’ screamed Ramone. He shot into the air to punctuate his command, shattering one of the crystals. Shards rained down on a chapel that had gone completely silent, except for a few whimpers. ‘I control this wedding now,’ continued Ramone. ‘And the only way for any of you to get out of here alive is for Kal Jerico and Yolanda Catallus to die and for me to be crowned Lord of the Hive.’

  ‘Why me?’ asked Yolanda immediately. ‘Kal’s the one you want. Just kill him. I won’t stand in your way.’

  ‘Thanks for sticking by me, honey,’ said Kal.

  Yolanda pointed her gun at Kal. ‘No honeys either,’ she growled. ‘And don’t even think about calling me sugar plum.’

  ‘You shot at me,’ said Ramone. ‘So you have to die now, too.’ Ramone fired into the air again. ‘Are you people listening to me? Either Kal Jerico dies or everyone dies. Now go get him!’

  ‘Uh oh,’ said Kal.

  Bobo swore under his breath. Ever since the guards started shooting, he’d lost sight of all the major players. It was total chaos down there. Now he could do nothing but watch as the crowd turned on Kal and Yolanda.

  They advanced on the dais. Kal actually stood in front of Yolanda as they came, making Bobo smile despite the stress of the situation.

  As the first of the crowd reached the front of the chapel, Kauderer, Katerin and Valtin all stepped in front of them and held up their hands.

  ‘You will not give in to the rantings of this madman,’ said Valtin.

  ‘You’ll have to get through us to get to them,’ said Captain Katerin. He puffed up his considerable chest, looking quite impressive despite his slick bald head and glistening beard. The hot lights and tuxedo had not been kind to the large, sweaty man.

  Kauderer simply stood and glared down at the oncoming crowd, which would have worked had there been less than a hundred scared people pressing in on the three lone men.

  They put up a brave fight. Katerin knocked down the first three people who grabbed at him, but got distracted by the low neckline on Jillian Greim’s dress, and was pulled down to the ground by Granit Ko’Iron.

  Kauderer and Valtin went back to back, fending off the first few attacks with precision martial arts moves. Valtin had obviously been practicing since Bobo had seen him bumbling through the Underhive a few months earlier. His front and side kicks were precise and strong, but he was no match for Ran Lo.

  The elder noble blocked Valtin’s kicks with ease and moved in with such blinding speed that Bobo didn’t even see what happened next. All of a sudden, Valtin was on the ground desperately trying to breathe. Ran Lo stepped over the top of him before Kauderer even knew his backup man had fallen, and jabbed the House Helmawr master spy twice in the ribs from behind, dropping him to the floor.

  Then the crowd was on the dais. Kal and Yolanda stood side by side, waving their weapons at the incoming crowd, but these weren’t Underhive criminals. They were Spire nobles. Neither bounty hunter could pull the trigger.

  Yolanda’s parents went up to her. As her father grabbed the gun from her hand, her mother said, ‘We’re sorry, dear. It’s for the good of the house.’

  Kal simply put his hands in the air. He was instantly mobbed by a group consisting mostly of his half-brothers and cousins. They pulled him to the ground and began kicking at him.

  ‘Enough!’ yelled Ramone. ‘This is my show. I get the honour of playing the lead role and executioner.’ The crowd parted and Ramone ascended the dais. ‘Besides, do you have any idea how much money I’ve spent on this production already? An entire year’s allowance and you and your father still aren’t dead…’

  That was Bobo’s cue. Of course, he’d suspected that Ramone was the man behind Smythe since he’d pulled the gun on Jerico, but without definitive proof he couldn’t pull the trigger. Those had been Kauderer’s orders. Confession first. Besides, he never had a clear shot at Ramone or any of his guards.

  Bobo aimed the rifle at Ramone, flipped on the laser sight and started to pull the trigger, but the crowd closed back in on him at the last second and Bobo lost his clear shot.

  ‘So, the great Kal Jerico brought to his knees by little old me,’ said Ramone.

  ‘I’m not on my knees,’ said Kal. He spat blood on the marble dais and wondered if his last act on this world was to commit sacrilege. It seemed about right.

  ‘Pull him to his knees,’ roared Ramone. ‘I want him to kneel before his better before I incinerate that little brain of his.’

  Two of Kal’s other cousins – he th
ought their names were Tomas and Carlos – pulled him up from his foetal position and set him on his knees.

  Kal looked up at the barrel of Ramone’s gun. ‘What in the hive did I ever do to you?’ he asked.

  ‘You killed my brother,’ said Ramone.

  ‘Could you be a little more specific?’ asked Kal. ‘I’ve killed lots of people. I bet lots of them had brothers.’

  Ramone punched Kal in the jaw.

  ‘My brother was Armand,’ said Ramone. ‘A great patriot who tried to bring down this rotten house. A feat I will now accomplish for him.’

  Kal spat another gob of blood onto the floor and then pulled his arm away from Carlos to wipe the bloody spittle from his lips. ‘I should have recognised you,’ said Kal. ‘The resemblance to your brother is uncanny.’

  Ramone smiled at Kal.

  ‘You’re both spider-shit insane.’

  Ramone tried to punch Kal again, but Kal caught him by the wrist. ‘Nobody ever hits me twice! Nobody!’

  Ramone tried to pull free, but Kal wouldn’t let go. As Ramone pressed his gun to his temple, Kal saw a laser sight circling on Ramone’s arms. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed to be tracing letters. B… O… B… O.

  ‘Any last words, Mr Kal Jerico, Underhive bounty hunter?’ asked Ramone as he pushed the gun harder against Kal’s head.

  Kal smiled. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Say hello to your brother for me.’

  Kal released his hold on Ramone’s arm and fell on his rump. Ramone’s gun went off, just missing Kal’s head as he rolled onto his back. With his legs free beneath him, Kal swung his feet up and kicked out, catching Ramone in the chest and sending him reeling back through the gathered crowd.

  Ramone lifted his weapon and aimed at Kal again. ‘Why you bas…’

  Ramone’s mouth stayed open but he didn’t finish the sentence. Instead he started gurgling. Blood and phlegm welled up in his mouth, spilled onto his chin and ran down his neck onto his tuxedo. His whole body went rigid. Then, as the entire congregation watched in silence, he toppled to the ground. A small, black hole in the back of his neck was the only indication of the poison dart that killed him.

  The room erupted into chaos again. The guards in the back of the room began shooting at anyone who came close and the guests all scattered, looking for cover. Screams and laser blasts filled the air.

  Kal slugged Carlos and Tomas in the face with the back of his fists and then crawled over to Yolanda, kicking his half-brothers in the stomach along the way. ‘Where are the weapons?’ he asked when he got there.

  Yolanda shrugged.

  Another voice answered instead. ‘Kal,’ said Scabbs.

  Kal looked around, but didn’t see his scabby friend. ‘Where have you been, you little chicken-rat?’ he asked.

  ‘Gathering these,’ said Scabbs. He crawled out from behind the ice archway, pushing a large stash of weapons ahead of him. ‘The dead guards didn’t seem to need them.’

  He tossed lasguns to Kal and Yolanda, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, scooted three more towards Valtin, Katerin and Kauderer who had freed themselves during the confusion.

  ‘On the count of three,’ said Kal. They all nodded at him. ‘Everybody get down!’ he called out.

  Kal looked back at his comrades, nodded, and said, ‘Three!’

  He stood up and started firing. Yolanda and Scabbs stood beside him. Kal smiled as he gunned down one of Ramone’s guards. The Spire brats were a little slow on the uptake, not understanding how you count to three in the Underhive. But once Valtin, Kauderer and Katerin joined in, they had six battle-hardened professionals against a bunch of guards. It was, as Kal would later describe it, a complete rout.

  In a matter of moments, all of Ramone’s guards had either been gunned down or thrown their weapons to the floor and raised their arms above their heads. Kal was pretty certain that Scabbs had shot one of them as he raised his hands, but nobody else seemed to notice so Kal kept that piece of information to himself.

  After the firefight, Kal tossed the borrowed lasgun to the floor and sat down on the edge of the marble dais.

  ‘Someone want to tell me what in the hive happened here just now?’ he asked.

  Katerin pulled out his handkerchief and ran it over his sweaty head. ‘I would, Kal,’ he said, ‘but I need to check on my men and re-establish control over this chapel.’

  He trudged off through the crowd, which had quieted down, but also needed tending to. Most were beginning to huddle in their own little groups again to check on the wounded and gripe about the state of affairs in the Spire.

  Kal turned to Kauderer and Valtin, but Valtin had already disappeared. ‘Well, hawk-nose?’ asked Kal. ‘Looks like it’s up to you to explain.’

  Kauderer glared at Kal, and then pulled his tux vest down to straighten it out and nodded at him. ‘You know most of it,’ he began. ‘Someone tried to kill our Lord Helmawr and then tried to have you killed as well.’

  ‘Uh huh,’ said Kal. ‘And I played the lightning rod for you all. How long did you know it was Ramone?’

  Kauderer shook his head. ‘We didn’t. That’s why we needed you to go along with this charade. We were pretty sure it was someone inside the house. Especially after that assassin tried to kill you. Our security is too tight for anyone outside to get in that easily. She must have had inside help.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Kal. ‘But where did Bobo come in?’

  Kauderer glanced at Kal, briefly, with a ‘how did you know that?’ look. ‘I set him up as a hired assassin to flush out the culprit, but we had to make it look like he’d turned on me; that he despised me enough to even kill me.’

  ‘That couldn’t have been too hard,’ said Kal.

  ‘It worked,’ said Kauderer, ignoring the comment. ‘He was contacted last night by an intermediary, so we still didn’t know who was behind it. But we were pretty sure that when he failed to kill you before the end of the ceremony, it would force the assassin out into the open.’

  ‘You just didn’t count on Ramone being prepared with backup, huh?’

  Kauderer stared at Kal for a minute before answering. ‘No.’ he said, and it was obvious that was the end of the discussion.

  Scabbs came over and sat next to Kal. ‘I found these for you,’ he said and handed Kal his pearl-handled laspistols and his sabre.

  ‘Thanks, Scabbs,’ said Kal. ‘I need to find a way to hold onto these better. Perhaps rope or glue.’

  ‘What do I do with this?’ asked Scabbs. He held up the crown that the priest had almost put on Kal’s head.

  ‘I’ll take that, if you please,’ said a loud, booming voice from the back of the hall. ‘I do believe it belongs to me.’

  A hush descended upon the murmuring and complaining crowd as all eyes turned towards the double doors. The fountains magically receded to mere bubbling so everyone could see the doorway. There, surrounded by guards and flanked by four scribes who busily scratched away at their parchments, stood Gerontius Helmawr apparently fully recovered.

  Valtin stepped in front of his lord and announced him. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, gathered nobles and guests, people of the Spire… your Lord, head of House Helmawr, ruler of Hive Primus and all of Necromunda… I give you, Lord Gerontius Helmawr.’

  ‘The rumours of my death were most unfounded,’ said the silver-haired man.

  He looked like a fit man of fifty, although by all accounts he was at least two hundred. Nobody else was alive from that long ago, so there was really no way to know his true age. He definitely looked much better than when Kal had seen him lying in bed being kept alive by tubes and wires.

  ‘Now, what in my hive has been going on here?’ he continued as he moved through the crowd. ‘Looks like a war zone. This is my house, isn’t it?’

  Valtin nodded. ‘It is, sire,’ he said.

  ‘Then it shouldn’t l
ook like a war zone, should it?’

  Nobody answered.

  ‘Should it?’ he bellowed.

  ‘No sire,’ said Valtin. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘That’s better,’ said Helmawr. He walked up to Kal and looked down at him. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.

  Kal could tell that Helmawr’s vitality had returned, but could also tell that his mind still wasn’t entirely all there. Valtin had played a calculated risk bringing the old man in here. His presence amongst the assembled nobles would certainly quash any rumours, but if he went off the deep end, the plan could backfire.

  Kal thought about having just a little bit of fun at his father’s expense, but knew that if the rest of the Spire did find out just how batty their lord truly was there really would be a coup d’état. And if that happened Valtin would probably try to put that damned crown back on his head.

  So, Kal swallowed his pride and playful spirit and simply bowed before his lord and father. ‘Just your humble servant,’ he said. With that, Kal took the crown from Scabbs’s hands, brushed off the dead skin that came with it, and placed it on Helmawr’s head. He then bowed and backed away.

  Helmawr smiled a knowing smile, which made Kal wonder if his old man had been playing with him instead. He then turned to the assembled guests and said, ‘I am alive. Now all of you – get out of my house and get back to work… for me.’

  As the guests filed out, Kal, Yolanda and Scabbs walked at the back of the crowd. Yolanda’s parents tried to come over to her as she walked, but she raised her borrowed lasgun and shook it at them. They disappeared back into the crowd.

  ‘Is it over?’ asked Scabbs.

  ‘It’s over,’ said Kal.

  ‘Can we go home now?’ asked Scabbs.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Kal. ‘Let’s go home and get back to our old lives.’

  As they left the chapel, Scabbs asked, ‘But aren’t you two married? And whatever happened to Bobo?’