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Runner Page 20

by William C. Dietz


  Lee had his hands under his armpits in order to keep them warm. “Really? Why couldn’t he just announce that? It would be a whole lot simpler.”

  “Because, with the possible exception of you, he thinks the rest of us are vermin,” the runner replied. “Not to mention the fact that he likes to jerk humans around.”

  Norr nodded agreeably. “That sounds like him all right . . . It looks like some of our traveling companions are starting to pack.”

  Rebo scanned the immediate area and saw that the sensitive was correct. “Yeah . . . Well, let’s get cracking. Remember, Lysander thinks the techno creeps will be on the ground waiting for us, so keep your packs light. Leave the food, your extra clothes, and anything else that can be replaced. We need to be light on our feet.”

  Norr opened her mouth to object, but the runner raised a hand. “Don’t bother . . . You’re a pain in the ass, but my client likes you, so there’s no way we’re going to leave you on your own.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that your client likes me,” the sensitive replied sweetly. “But what about you?”

  “That depends,” Rebo replied, “on which one of your personalities I happen to be dealing with at the moment.”

  “And how many clothes she has on,” Lee observed impishly, a grin splitting his face.

  Norr blushed, and was about to reply, when a Klaxon started to bleat. “It sounds like the old boy is serious,” Rebo put in, and emptied his mug into the fire. The liquid made a hissing sound as it hit the coals, and a cloud of steam rose as the group went to work.

  Forty-five minutes later Rebo, Norr, Lee, and his red hat escorts tagged on to the end of a ragged line as the passengers filed through an air lock and boarded the waiting shuttle. The queue advanced in a series of fits and starts, and it was during one such pause that Rebo felt a hand on his shoulder. “So, runner,” a baritone voice boomed, “is there room for one more?”

  Rebo turned to find that Bo Hoggles was standing right behind him. The heavy was dressed in his usual assemblage of rags, wore a small knapsack high on his broad back, and carried a war hammer in his right hand. It was a massive affair that consisted of an alloy shaft fastened to a chunk of metal, which, judging from the ports that had been machined into it, had once been part of the spaceship. The runner grinned. “Beats me, Bo, but given the size of that hammer, I’ll bet people will make room for you.”

  Norr had spotted Hoggles by that time and rushed forward to give the variant a hug. “Bo! It’s good to see you again, but we have reason to believe that some rather unpleasant people will be waiting for us on the ground, so I suggest that you steer clear of us.”

  The heavy frowned, and his voice rumbled like distant thunder. “I’m tired of living alone. That’s why I came. Perhaps the people who are waiting for you would like to meet my friend here.”

  Norr eyed the hammer, imagined the kind of damage that such a weapon could inflict, and smiled grimly. “Suit yourself, Bo. But you can always change your mind.”

  “Of course I can,” the heavy replied nonchalantly. “But it isn’t very likely.”

  The group followed the rest of the passengers into the shuttle and positioned themselves to disembark first. The logic was simple. Even though the Techno Society had shown itself to be ruthless, Rebo didn’t believe they were stupid enough to fire on a large group of innocent people, especially given the fact that Norr might be killed as well. And, by placing themselves at the front of the crowd, the sensitive and her companions could make it that much more difficult for the opposition to use firearms without running the risk of hitting the wrong people. The plan was far from foolproof, but better than nothing, and had at least some chance of success. A warning tone sounded, hatches cycled closed, and Norr felt her body attempt to float upward as the shuttle separated itself from the ship. But the old harness held her in place, the transport began its descent, and Ning rose to meet her.

  The Planet Ning

  What had once been a huge spaceport had contracted as the flow of interplanetary travel was reduced to a trickle and other enterprises crowded in around it. Now, little more than a circular pad remained, as a crowd had started to gather. However, unlike the free-spirited celebrants who came to greet new arrivals on Anafa, this mob was made up of street vendors, pickpockets, and would-be guides. One of them, a strange-looking man with blond hair, was accompanied by a retinue of heavily robed robots, the same sort of metal men that preached on street corners.

  If not exactly happy, which might have been constitutionally impossible for someone of Jevan Kane’s disposition, the operative was in a relatively good mood. And why not? The gate seed, which Kane was unwilling to entrust to anyone other than himself, hung round his neck and formed a large lump beneath his shirt. That alone represented a successful mission and would be sufficient to silence those who had been critical of him.

  Now, assuming that he managed to capture Lanni Norr, the technologist would be able to return to Seros in triumph. The off-worlder’s thoughts were interrupted by a shout and an excited buzz as a white contrail appeared, and a loud boom rolled across the land. It was a welcome sound, and Kane looked upward with all the rest.

  Though compelled to send part of himself down to the surface of planets like Ning, Hewhotravels took no pleasure in it and considered the whole process of transporting barbarians between worlds to be a terrible waste of time. Unfortunately, such was not only his fundamental purpose but the way he was programmed, which meant that he was fated to perform such chores until his body disintegrated. This bleak prospect was largely responsible for his perpetually bad mood.

  So, eager to complete the odious task as quickly as possible, and without regard for the comfort of the vermin who traveled in his belly, the AI turned and sped north over the outskirts of Zand. A sonic boom followed along behind him, rattled windows, and sent flocks of drab fliers into the air, where they circled aimlessly before returning to their roosts.

  And for that brief moment, as the shuttle skimmed the land, the past came back to life. Because once, long before any living memory, such events had been so commonplace that not even the birds noticed them. And that, it seemed to the ship, was a great loss indeed.

  Rebo felt the transport start to slow and knew what that meant. Soon, within a matter of minutes, he and his companions would exit the passenger compartment and walk into a fight. Not only that, but judging from what felt like a mantle of lead that had settled onto his shoulders, the gravity on Ning exceeded that maintained aboard the ship. A definite disadvantage.

  The runner checked to ensure that none of those seated around him was looking before giving the amulet that hung around his neck a surreptitious squeeze. And not just for himself, as had once been his practice, but for his companions as well—an odd amalgamation of personalities that combined to weigh him down and lift him up at the same time. Norr was the best example since his feelings for the sensitive ran the gamut from desire to frustration. It was all very confusing, and the runner didn’t like things that were confusing, because they were, well, confusing.

  But as the shuttle touched down, Rebo knew it was important to put all such thoughts aside and focus on the matter before him. “All right,” he said, in a voice pitched just loud enough for his allies to hear, “stick with the plan. And whatever you do, remember to keep moving, because if they surround us, it will be next to impossible to break out.”

  Norr nodded, Lee forced a smile, Hoggles produced a grunt of acknowledgment, and the red hat warriors sketched religious symbols into the air in front of them. Then the hatch opened, fresh air surged into the cabin, and it was time to leave. Rebo came up out of his seat, made a clacking sound with the three-foot-long fighting sticks that he had shaped for the occasion, and uttered a roar intended to freeze the rest of the passengers in place.

  The unexpected sound had the desired effect, and that allowed the runner and his friends to exit first. Rebo had not been to Ning before, and there was no time in which to appreciate
the scenery as he led the rest of the small company down a metal ramp onto heat-scorched duracrete. He had the lead, with two Dib Wa warriors to either flank, and Norr at his back. Hoggles, who still insisted on taking part, brought up the rear with Lee riding high on his shoulders. It was a sturdy formation, or so it seemed to the runner, who spotted the waiting crowd and charged straight at it. But his movements weren’t as quick as they would have been aboard the ship—and it was like trying to run through deep water.

  Jevan Kane had been watching for Norr and spotted the young woman right away. But while the technologist had been aware of the fact that Norr had what he assumed to be a lover, he had no reason to expect an escort that included four red hat warriors and an unkempt heavy. All of whom were not only armed but clearly ready for trouble. That took the operative by surprise. How could they know? Then he had it. Lysander had been present during the meeting on Anafa but refused to manifest through Dyson. But he could have listened in and, having done so, told Norr what to expect. The rotten bastard was switching sides!

  But there was no time for further thought as the metal men rushed forward in an attempt to surround and capture Norr while bystanders screamed and ran in every direction. The robots were dressed in nearly identical black robes that flared as they ran. Each android was armed with a wooden cudgel, which judging from the nicks and cuts they bore, had clearly seen action.

  Wood clanged on metal as Rebo closed with the first machine and brought both of his fighting sticks together in the attack called “clapping hands,” shifted his weight to his right foot, and turned to let the robot’s club brush his left shoulder. Then, having brought his left foot up and back, the runner launched a kick that struck the machine’s torso. The automaton toppled over backward, hit the ground, and was struggling to rise when Norr took its head off with her vibro blade. Sparks shot from the neatly severed neck, and the machine’s limbs jerked spasmodically before the metal man finally went limp.

  Rebo, who had been unaware of the fact that the sensitive’s staff concealed yet another weapon, barely had time to say “Thanks!” before the next robot came at him. Meanwhile, the Dib Wa were engaged as well. One of the warriors brought his sword down only to have it blocked by a wooden cudgel, and then, while working to free his blade, took a fatal blow to the head.

  Metal rang on metal as another red hat sought revenge, but discovered that unlike Norr’s vibro blade, ordinary steel couldn’t part the android’s alloy skin in a single blow. But the religious warriors were resourceful, and it wasn’t long before they learned to bring the automatons down by throwing shirts over their heads and beating them to death. But the heavier gravity put them at a disadvantage, and another Dib Wa fell, tried to rise, and was slaughtered where he lay.

  In the meantime Kane, who had chosen to follow the robots into battle rather than lead them, saw the opportunity that he’d been waiting for. Having conserved his strength, and with both sets of combatants fully engaged, it was a simple matter to slip between the skirmishers and make for Norr. But the blond hair was hard to miss, and the sensitive was preparing herself to fight the operative, when she came under a different kind of attack. With so much of her attention focused on the physical battle, the sensitive had inadvertently lowered her psychic defenses, opening herself to Lysander. Norr attempted to resist, but it was too late by then, and the discarnate took control of her body. He took a swing at Kane, swore as the vibro blade sizzled over the operative’s head, and felt his former ally wrap his arms around Norr’s torso.

  Lysander felt a sudden stab of fear as he struggled to keep Kane from simply lifting the female body off its feet and carrying it away. But Norr was heavier than Kane expected her to be, and the discarnate took advantage of that fact to knee his onetime son in the groin. “You’re fighting for the wrong side,” Lysander lectured Kane, as he brought the vibro blade’s hilt down on the back of the other man’s skull. “We need to restore the gates, but for the benefit of humanity, not ourselves! That’s where we went wrong last time.”

  Kane let go of his aching privates, felt a moment of vertigo, and struggled to keep his feet as the planet sought to pull him down. “Lysander? You old bastard . . . Is that you?”

  “You bet your ass it is,” the scientist replied, and was about to take another swing with the vibro blade when a metal man seized him from behind. Lysander struggled, but soon discovered that Norr’s body wasn’t strong enough to break the machine’s steely grip, and saw Kane smile as the machine pulled him backward. “We have what we came for,” the operative shouted. “Take her away!”

  But Norr’s capture had not gone unnoticed, and even as the metal man began to carry the sensitive away, Hoggles brought his homemade war hammer down on the android’s head. Metal crumpled, circuitry failed, and sparks shot out through the metal man’s eyes.

  Lysander felt the robot’s arms fall away, and was about to counterattack, when a wave of androids swept around him. Strong though he was, Hoggles was hard-pressed to stay upright, and thereby keep Lee safely above the fray, as three of the machines attacked simultaneously.

  The last of the Dib Wa warriors had fallen by then, and as he and his remaining companions were surrounded by what seemed like an army of cudgel-wielding metal men, Rebo knew that the battle was lost. Or so it seemed until a huge shadow spilled over him, a blast of hot air washed across his shoulders, and a huge skid nicked the side of Kane’s head. It was a glancing blow, but one from a large shuttle, and the Techno Society’s operative fell like a rock.

  Hewhotravels had never been in a fight before. And had it not been for the fact that the little boy who might be Nom Maa was involved, would have stayed clear of this one. But given humanity’s steady decline, and so little reason for hope, the ship found itself unable to sit by while what might be a great teacher came under attack. And though not specifically equipped for combat, the AI discovered that he didn’t need to be, as he sent combatants scattering in every direction.

  Rebo got a grip on Norr’s arm, and was about to drag the sensitive to safety, when Lysander jerked it loose. “Not yet, you fool! The lump under Kane’s shirt . . . It’s a gate seed! We need it!”

  The runner wasn’t so sure about the “we” part, but took the opportunity to plod over to where the operative lay and cut the thong to which the metal sphere was attached. Then, with the seed safely stashed in a pocket, Rebo led Norr, Hoggles, and Lee off the pad. The surviving metal men attempted to follow, but Hewhotravels wasn’t about to allow that and moved to block them. So, with no way to pursue their quarry, there was very little that the surviving robots could do other than give aid to their fallen leader. Once Kane had been carried away, dozens of vendors, pickpockets, and guides returned to the pad. They neither knew nor cared what the fight had been about. All that mattered to them was the possibility of profit and the fact that the day was still young.

  Zand was a complex city, which made it both hard to govern and easy to hide in. First, because there were numerous distinct neighborhoods, each of which wanted to govern itself. That meant that local officials were sometimes less than cooperative where the city’s police force was concerned. And making the situation even more difficult for local authorities was the fact that many of those who lived in the city made their livings from the hundreds of caravans that entered and left Zand on a daily basis. Since those caravans transported not only all manner of legitimate goods but contraband, too, the axiom ASK ME NO QUESTIONS AND I’LL TELL YOU NO LIES was inscribed over the eastern gate to the city.

  All this meant that Rebo, who had quite a bit of experience where such things were concerned, had little difficulty locating a place where he and his companions could stay. The key, as his mentor Thomas Crowley had taught him, was “to find the middle.” By which the sickly runner meant accommodations that weren’t so posh as to be targeted by the thieves guild, nor so low as to be the focus of whatever passed for the local police force. “What you want,” Crowley had advised, “is to render yourself invis
ible.”

  Easily said, but hard to do, when you’re traveling with a sensitive, a heavy, and a ten-year-old religious leader. Still, after a bit of research, Rebo managed to locate a small hotel that was located on the edge of a middle-class neighborhood called Levels, because of the way it had been terraced into a hillside. The hostelry was located on a sleepy street, in a wood-frame stucco-covered building, not far from a small but serviceable market. Just the place to rest, regroup, and prepare for the cross-country trek that would take the travelers to the spaceport in Cresus—a city located more than a thousand miles away.

  Ideal though the hiding place might be, Rebo knew that all sorts of people would be on the lookout for both Norr and Lee. Norr, because the Techno Society was not going to give up, and Lee, because Zand was something of a black hat stronghold, and senior members of that sect were sure to learn that four red hat bodies had been left on the landing pad. What was less certain was whether the monks would hear about the presence of a little boy and jump to the right conclusion. But if they did, and the runner thought it was best to assume that they would, it seemed likely that Lee would be targeted. That was why he insisted that everyone remain in their rooms and out of sight.

  Norr, who was still recovering from her latest encounter with Lysander, was quick to agree. As did Hoggles, a fact that came as something of a surprise to Rebo since he would have expected some sort of objection from a man who had spent the last few years on board a spaceship. Still, it was nice to have something break his way.

  That left Lee, who had been devastated by the loss of all four Dib Wa warriors and blamed himself for their deaths. He wanted to leave the hotel, not to explore the city as he normally sought to do, but to visit a temple where he could apologize to the dead warriors. Norr and Rebo had attempted to dissuade the boy but to no avail.

 

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