Never Trust an Elf

by Robert N. Charrette

  He took a moment to gather his thoughts back to biz before he punched in Sally Tsung's number. The calm, pleasant voice on the other end told him that Sally wasn't in and asked if he wanted to leave a message. Nothing new there. Kham wasn't sure what sort of message to leave. He wanted Sally to look at the crystal and tell him all about it, but he didn't want to trust anything to the phone. So he just said that he had a proposal for biz and that Sally should meet him tomorrow just after sunset, at the usual place just off High Bridge Road. He figured she wouldn't balk at that choice for a meet; it was Ghost's territory and she'd feel safe there to meet with an ork she probably still thought was dead.

  Out on the floor of Zasshu's place, they were stripping off the tape that had protected the truck's glass from the paint. It was time to go. Kham rousted the crew.

  "Where's Chigger?"

  "Buzzed," Rabo told him.

  Kham digested that. The decker didn't know much about what was going on, unless he'd learned something in the Andalusian system that he hadn't passed on. But Rabo didn't seem concerned, and Chigger was his chummer. Kham decided to let it ride. Too bad Scatter hadn't gone with the decker; the shaman was back inside the truck, running avaricious fingers over the surface of the crystal.

  "Surprised ya didn't buzz wit Chigger. Waiting fer a ride back to da Underground?"

  The shaman looked at him with eyes that gleamed from beneath her brows. "Yes, yes. The Underground is the place for this. "

  "Well, it ain't going dere. Zasshu's right; dis armored van is a hot item, and I ain't about ta dump it in one of da Underground's garages. If it's spotted dere, its owner is gonna know just where ta look fer us. and dat's too close ta home."

  "It can be protected in the Underground," Scatter said. "I can protect it."

  "Maybe ya can, maybe ya can't. Widdout knowing who dis heap belongs ta, ya don't know what ya gotta hide it from. Whoever sent dose metal men has got resources, and lots of 'em. Until I know what we're dealing wit. I don't wanta call anybody's attention ta da Underground."

  "I concur," Neko said. "But some sort of place-must be found."

  "This ain't it," Zasshu cut in. "You got yer paint, so you can get the fragging hell outta here till you can pay up."

  Not wanting to upset the dwarf further, Kham hustled the crew back aboard the truck. "Yer bein' real understanding about dis, Zasshu."

  The dwarf hawked and spat. "Ain't got much choice."

  "I'll remember dis," Kham said as he climbed into the truck.

  "If you don't, I will. And I know where you live."

  * * *

  They spent the day rolling through Seattle, stopping only to fuel the truck, grab a bite, or take the chance to drop a load. It wasn't much fun, but neither Kham nor any of the others could think of a safe place to stash the truck.

  It was late afternoon when they rolled into the Redmond Barrens, moving down High Bridge Road into one of the more built-up, and consequently tougher, sections of the Barrens. Paradoxically, this part of Redmond was safer for orks because a good part of it was territory that belonged to Ghost-Who-Walks-Inside. Ghost was an Indian and had known his own share of blind intolerance, so he was more accepting than the bulk of the district's population, and his people mostly followed his lead. Still, the Injun didn't have control of the whole population. Who did.

  Kham sent Neko out to spot when they pulled up to wait for Sally. As the only norm in their crew, he was the best choice. No sense looking for trouble, even if they were in Ghost's territory.

  Neko drifted back in. "A blond woman in fringed leather and a stocky Amerindian with beaded headband and a matched set of Uzis are coming down the street."

  "Sounds like dem." Kham looked out at the gathering darkness. "On time, too."

  "You don't need her." Scatter said.

  The rat shaman had refused Kham's periodic offers to drop her off near one of the entrances to the Underground, apparently preferring to stay where she could touch the crystal. Kham didn't like, or trust, her possessive attitude toward the thing.

  "Need who?" he said offhandedly.

  "The Tsung witch."

  He squinted at the shaman. "Howddya know who I'm waitin' fer?"

  "I am a shaman."

  "Yeah, right." She was that, but she was a sneaky little bitch as well. He remembered her hanging about Zasshu's office while he made his calls. It was almost the only time he'd seen her away from the crystal since she'd first laid eyes on it. "Got good ears, do ya?"

  Scatter ignored his remark. Instead she caressed the crystal and crooned, "It is old. Very, very old."

  "Tell me sumpin" I don't know. Like how it works."

  "That will take study," she said in a hushed whisper. "But I will learn."

  Kham looked out the passthrough to the cab. Through the front window he saw two figures turn the corner onto the street where they were parked. Sally and Ghost. He left the truck and walked around to meet them.

  Ghost nodded greeting, and Sally gave him her usual sardonic grin. "Hoi, Kham. Looking good for a hunk of dead, burned orkflesh. 'Zappening? Your call sounded like you had something hot."

  Kham nodded. "Some hot magic." Kham led them around to the back of the van, noting that Ghost's eyes roved over the battle scars on the van. The Indian was a street samurai, more highly modified than Kham, but less obviously so. Ghost knew his way around a firefight, and Kham was sure the Indian could smell the new paint. Having checked out the truck, Ghost's eyes now examined the orks clustered at the truck's back doors.

  "New boys," Ghost noted. "Tough fight?"

  "Not dis one," Kham said.

  The Indian nodded—he'd be making his own judgment on Kham's performance, as always—but he said nothing. Kham opened a path through the knot of his guys so Sally could get through. Sally looked into the body and said, "When did you take up understatement, Kham?"

  "Told ya it was hot. Whatcha tink it is?"

  She shook her head, frowning in puzzlement. "Static on the screen."

  "I told you she would be no help," Scatter said from the darkness of the truck.

  Sally turned cold eyes on the rat shaman. "And who's this paragon of knowledge and haute couture?"

  "Scatter." Kham said.

  "Our shaman," Ryan added proudly.

  "Shaman, hunh?" Sally cocked her head. "Rat, right."

  "Rat is my totem." Scatter's tone sounded a trifle defensive to Kham.

  "Well, if you could have done what my chummer Kham needed done, I don't think he would have called me. Do you?"

  Scatter hissed at her. "I will unravel the crystal's secrets."

  "Sure you will, stinky. But for now, step out or step back. It's time for a pro to go to work."

  The rat shaman refused to budge, but Sally climbed into the truck anyway. She looked the crystal over, running her fingers along the carving, then she sat down crosslegged in the clear space near the doors. Pressing her hands together, she touched her index fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes. After a moment she lowered her hands to her lap. She stayed that way for long minutes.

  The guys began to fidget, shifting around and speaking in low tones. Ghost just leaned against one of the doors, watching Neko watch Sally. At last Sally came out of her trance and shakily started to stand up. Ghost was beside her in a flash, catching her before she could lose her balance. She looked drained, and the smile she gave Kham was a faint reflection of her earlier one.

  "You weren't kidding when you said you had hot magic. Kham. Do you have any idea what this is?"

  "it's got someting to do with da way elves live a long time and stay looking like dey ain't never gonna grow up." He told her about the run into the Salish and the double-cross by Glasgian. He almost told her about Dodger, but held that back, using Laverty as his example of a long-lived elf.

  "Oh, yeah," Sally said, turning thoughtful eyes back to the crystal. She was quiet for some time. "It's powerful, all right. Maybe even powerful enough to be some kind of eternity magic, but th
ere's something else about it."

  "What?"

  "I can't get hold of the spells; they're different somehow from what I know. Primitive, but powerful."

  "Then you cannot tell how to use this power, either," Scatter said vindictively. "You have no reason to scoff at me."

  Sally's response had none of the flip arrogance of her earlier banter with the shaman. "I'll argue about reason to scoff, but I'll also admit that I can't tell how this thing does whatever it is it does."

  "Could ya figure it out?"

  "Maybe. Given time, but that isn't something I've got right now. Besides, this poking-prying stuff has never been my long suit."

  "Ha!" Scatter crowed triumphantly. "I told you she was worthless, Kham. I will unravel the crystal's secrets for you. We shall share those secrets together." Sally gave the shaman a harsh look, then turned back to Kham. Her face was serious. "I'd sell it before I trusted her, Kham."

  "Sell it?" Kham hadn't thought of that. "Ta who?"

  "The highest bidder. Cog could handle it. A piece like that should fetch a fine price on the open market, and selling it has the added benefit of getting you out of the loop with this elf and the owner of the truck. They'll leave you alone if you get rid of this thing."

  "What if da bad guys buy it back?"

  Sally shrugged. "Then soothe your conscience with the money. You'll live, and you'll live rich."

  "You must not sell the crystal," Scatter insisted.

  "And why not?" Sally asked.

  Scatter scurried forward and pointed an accusing finger into her face. "You mages have no souls! You don't understand the true nature of the world! This crystal has a spirit, as do all things. Selling it for gain would pollute that spirit. It is your kind that is corrupting the magic. Defilers! Defilers, all! Now you would defile this mystery just because you do not understand it."

  "What drek!" Sally batted away the shaman's hand, and Scatter retreated a step. Sally turned her back on the woman. "Kham, you'll only get yourself more trouble if you're going to listen to this pile of rags. You've been a good chummer. We've had a lot a fun, had a lot of good runs. But this is something I don't want a piece of. You keep it. and all I can do is wish you luck. Dump it and come up cool, then we can do biz. You know the number."

  Sally started to walk away, and the orks parted to let her go. Kham couldn't think of anything to say. Sally had been his hope of unraveling this magic. Without her. how could he do that?

  "Do not stay too long in one place," Ghost advised as he turned to follow Sally down the street.

  Dumbfounded, Kham watched them go.

  Neko herded the other runners back into the truck, then tugged at Kham's arm. Reluctantly, Kham climbed in and watched the catboy swing the doors closed. They rolled.

  Kham had always valued Sally's advice. She'd said this stolen crystal was powerful. He knew it had to be, if it could do what he thought it could. Still, she didn't want any part of it, and that puzzled him. This magic could help norms as well as orks. More than once he'd heard her complain that she was getting too old for running. He had the answer to that sitting in this truck with him, but she didn't want a part of it. What did she know that he didn't?

  She said to sell it. She said they could get a lot of nuyen for it. Well, selling it would get him out of his financial problems, and it would go a long way toward settling the score with that fragging elf Glasgian. If Glasgian didn't end up as the buyer, that is. But maybe even then, especially if Scatter was right that selling the crystal would mess up its magic.

  But using that magic . . . what that might do! He would never be old, never worn out and wrecked like his mother. Lissa would never grow old either. And the kids. They would no longer be condemned to an ork's short life. They'd have a chance to learn and do and be. All he had to do was unlock the crystal's secret.

  But how?

  He didn't know what to do.

  22

  "Hey, Kham. One thing you can't do is sell these wheels to Zasshu."

  The raw eagerness in Rabo's voice brought Kham out of his funk. "Why's dat?"

  "They're too, too sweet. That halfer wouldn't appreciate even half of what this baby has got in her, real cutting edge once you look under the hood. I'll bet half the circuits are prime Miltron. Gotta be, with what this baby's packing. Sure ain't Ares tech. Ain't no ID's on the boards, but this rig has gotta be Miltron make. The mesh is just too smooth to be a slapdash. But that halfer just ain't got appreciation; he'd probably break her up for parts."

  "Safer that way," The Weeze pointed out.

  "You ain't got no soul, Weezer. This beauty deserves better than that."

  "My butt says otherwise. This bucket could use better shocks," Ratstomper complained.

  Rabo laughed her off. "You're just pissy 'cause you been sitting too long. The ride's line up here."

  But riding was something they couldn't do forever. "Don't get too comfortable up dere, Rabo. We gotta dump dis heap soon as da stone is safe."

  "Aw, Kham, you don't understand what you're giving up. This baby's got armor, weapons, and lots of wrinkles I still ain't had time to figure out yet. Give me a week or two and I'll have her humming to my tune You'll see. We got us a real street chariot here. Lone Star's Citymasters ain't gonna be a problem anymore ."

  The rigger's enthusiasm got old quickly. Couldn't Rabo see the problems that keeping the hijacked truck would cause? Kham decided to point out the most obvious of them. "Rabo, ya wanna be around when dose metal guys come ta repossess dis ting','"

  "Who says they're gonna?" Rabo was uncowed. "They were rockin' and rollin' with the Andies last we seen them, and with no way 'a gettin' outta there without wheels or wings. We got their wheels, right? And they didn't have any wings."

  "What if they did?" Ryan asked. "They were tough bastards."

  "Drek, yeah," The Weeze agreed. "You see the way that one kept fighting even with his leg out? Howled like a gutted cat when that wage mage tried to fry him, but he was hosing down Andies soon as the light faded. Sure as flux leaves ya dripping drek. I wouldn't want to square off with one of those guys."

  "Ain't gonna have to," Rabo insisted. "I'm telling you they're history. This baby's ours now."

  Ryan's face twisted into a worried grimace. "How can you be sure they don't have friends? We don't know who they were working for."

  "Yeah," Ratstomper echoed. Kham was beginning to think the two of them had become a team. "You don't think they was working for that other elf, do ya, Kham?"

  "Drek! What you got for eyes, Stomper?" Rabo asked. "They weren't elves. Under all that chrome they were breeders."

  "Go frag yourself, drekhead," Ratstomper snapped back. "Just 'cause they're breeders don't mean they weren't working for an elf. Ain't we worked for daisy-eaters ourselves? And we sure ain't no pointy-eared, flouncy elves."

  That got the guys laughing, even Rabo. When things quieted down, The Weeze said, "You know, Stomper might be right. Maybe those two elves who went with us to the Salish had a falling out. Maybe we just got caught in the middle of a family spat."

  "I don't think those cyberguys were working for an elf," Neko said quietly.

  All the ork eyes in the back of the truck turned to him, including Kham's, who wanted to know how Neko had reached that conclusion. "Why not, catboy?"

  "They didn't operate with any magic."

  "No," Scatter said definitively. "They had no magic."

  "Good point. Elves love dat stuff. Running a team witout it just ain't dere style. At least not fer Tir elves."

  Ryan wasn't buying it. "So who says the ones after us was Tir elves?"

  "One of 'em was," The Weeze said. "That Glasgian twerp."

  "Maybe so," Ryan agreed reluctantly. "But the cat-boy said the other was Australian. I don't know how Aussie elves operate. Do you, wisearse?"

  "If Urdli had wanted the crystal, he would have taken it himself," Neko asserted.

  His tone was confident and the others nodded in agreement, but Kham f
ound himself wondering. How could Neko be so sure? As Kham recalled, he had first heard Neko identify the Dark One as Urdli to Dodger, who had not batted an eye, like they both knew what the catboy was talking about. Neko hadn't told Kham or the guys anything more than that the elf was an Australian, but the catboy obviously knew more about the dark-skinned elf. The catboy liked his secrets too much to be a real chummer. That was fine by Kham unless those secrets might be important to their survival. But was this the best time to try to pry them out? Before Kham could frame his question, The Weeze was asking one of her own.

  "Well, if it ain't a spat between Mister Dark and Mister Light, why were those heavy metalboys after the rock?"

  "The conclusion is obvious. Someone else knows about the crystal," Neko replied.

  "Another elf?" Ryan asked tremulously.

  "What's with you? You got elves on the brain." Rabo said. "There's a lot more folks out there working angles besides elves."

  Holding on to his idea, Ryan whined, "But how would anybody else know about the elf eternity magic?"

  "We know," Kham pointed out.

  "So who do you think it is?" Ryan asked, turning on him. "Rabo said this rig was Miltron hardware. Those are some scary boys. I don't want to frag with that corp."

  "Now, I didn't say it was for sure Miltron," Rabo protested.

  "But it could be," Ryan insisted. "They make mil-spec stuff. Drek, maybe they made those cyberguys. If they did, they could make more. Drek, we're gonna get hosed."

  "Calm down," Neko suggested. ' Panic will not do us any good at all."

  "Somebody's got to worry about it," Ryan said. "We're all worried," Neko said quietly. "We're just not panicking."

  Ryan cast frantic looks around the enclosed space. The other orks were almost as calm as the catboy. The kid looked to his shaman, but Scatter was absorbed in the crystal. Ryan turned to Kham. "What do you think, Kham. Is it Miltron?"

  Kham shook his head. "Dunno."

  "Well, what are we going to do?" The young ork looked about ready to freak, but Kham didn't have the answers to satisfy him. If Ryan couldn't handle not knowing who was out there looking for them, he wasn't cut out for shadowrunning. Best to find that out now, before the kid lost it during a run.