Blood Royal

by Will McDermott

  Next to them, Wotan had gotten past Grell’s flailing arms and had his jaws around the struggling Spyrer’s neck. Grell screamed, ‘Help! Jonas. Help!.’

  Jonas turned toward his comrade and Kal, seeing the opening, moved in. He grabbed the leader by the wrist and slammed the pommel of his sabre on the back of his hand. Jonas dropped his sword. Spinning around, Jerico kicked Jonas in the gut, sending him flying. He then turned to his faithful robot companion. ‘Wotan, sit!’ he commanded. But the dog continued to apply pressure to Grell’s exposed neck. ‘Damn!’ cursed Kal. ‘Wotan! Obey!’

  Kal heard a sickening crunch of metal jaw on bone. He reacted instantly, diving at Wotan and pulling him off the prone Spyrer. Grell screamed again as Kal and Wotan tumbled to the ground. By the time Kal got himself untangled from Wotan’s scrabbling legs, he was flat on his back and looking up at an extremely upset Grell.

  Blood trickled down the front of Grell’s shirt from four matching puncture wounds on either side of his neck. He held a plasma pistol pointed at Kal’s head. ‘Good-bye, cousin!’ said Grell.

  Jerico looked to the side. He’d dropped his sabre when he tackled Wotan, and it was well out of reach. He raised his hands in protest. ‘But I just saved your life!’

  ‘Bit of a mistake for you, then, wouldn’t you say?’ said Grell as he pulled the trigger.

  A blur of motion passed Jerico as he rolled to the side. Grell screamed and Kal heard him fall to the ground just before the plasma ball exploded somewhere behind him. Kal rolled to a crouch and looked back toward Grell. Wotan sat atop the Spyrer, bits of flesh and bone hanging from his mouth. Grell’s neck was gone and his head lolled at an angle that made Kal a little queasy.

  Being sick wouldn’t bring Grell back and there was still Jonas to deal with. Time was running short. The enforcers wouldn’t stay away forever. The Spyrer leader, still looking a little dazed from landing on his head, crawled toward his power sword. ‘Wotan!’ called Kal. ‘Fetch!’ The dog leapt off Grell’s body and scooped up Jonas’s sword in his still bloody mouth.

  Kal stood and faced Jonas. ‘Time’s up,’ he said. ‘Rules change.’ Standing with his legs apart and slightly bent, he raised his sabre into attack position, and curled his free arm up over his head. Once again, his positioning was perfect. The wind from the fan across the courtyard blew his long leather coat around his legs as he struck the pose.

  ‘Nice move,’ said Jonas. ‘But killing me won’t save cousin Valtin!’ He pointed behind Kal.

  The bounty hunter knew it was a trick, but when one of the Escher women screamed, ‘Help him! Somebody help!’ Kal had to turn and look. As soon as he did, Jonas barrelled into him and they both went sprawling on the ground. In that instant, Kal saw Armand jump onto the ventilation shaft above the fan and disappear into the darkness, carrying Valtin over his shoulder.

  7: BAD BLOOD

  Kal and Jonas wrestled on the ground in the square outside The Breath of Fresh Air. They rolled back and forth as both men tried to gain an advantage over the other. Jonas had obviously been trained, because he knew moves that Kal had never seen before. He locked his legs around Kal’s ankles to take away the bounty hunter’s leverage and then snaked a hand under Kal’s armpit, grabbed him by the hair at the nape of his neck, and flipped him over onto his back.

  In an instant, Jonas had pinned Jerico. Sitting on his chest he pummelled the bounty hunter’s face with rock-hard fists. Kal began to laugh in between the hits. First a chuckle, then a couple of snorts, followed by a near-hysterical fit that ended in a series of hacking coughs as he fought for air with the Spyrer sitting on his chest.

  Jonas paused, holding his fist in the air as he stared at Kal’s smiling face. ‘What in the Hive are you laughing about?’ he asked. ‘You enjoy pain that much?’

  Kal continued laughing as he spoke, ‘Ha – I just thought of something funny – ha ha, that’s all.’

  ‘What?’ growled Jonas. ‘What’s so damned funny?

  ‘You – hoo hoo – stopping hitting me long enough so I could say: Wotan! Attack!’ The last two words were barked loud and clear.

  Jonas realised his mistake and swung his fist down toward Kal’s face one last time, but it was too late. Wotan slammed into Jonas from the side, sending the Spyrer sprawling to the ground again. Kal rolled the other way, got his knees under him, and hopped to his feet. Wotan had landed on top of Jonas and was snapping at the Spyrer leader’s neck with his massive metal jaws.

  Kal felt his sore jaw and considered letting Wotan have his fun, but Jonas had called Valtin ‘cousin’, meaning he was yet another long lost relative. Besides, now that they knew the Underhive vampire was Armand in a Spyrer rig, Kal needed as much firepower as possible to get his bounty, and save his nephew.

  ‘Wotan! Sit!’ he commanded. ‘Guard!’ The oversized dog plopped his metal rump down on Jonas’s legs, but kept his front legs on the Spyrer’s chest. Jonas squirmed under the weight, causing Wotan to growl, which sounded like the buzzing of a chainsword, and chomp his teeth, which looked like a sump rat-trap snapping shut.

  Kal looked around. Armand was gone, but the fighting in the courtyard continued. Yolanda and Vicksen were dancing around one another, waving their swords, while Scabbs was leading the last Spyrer on a wild Scabbs chase around the square. The oversized jar-head Spyrer was just coming around next to Yolanda, while the last two Wildcats huddled by the door to the Fresh Air.

  This had to stop. If Kal was going to rescue Valtin and put an end to this Underhive Vampire nonsense, he would need a lot of help. To hell with working alone. Dad would just have to understand that sometimes you had to improvise; sometimes you had to go with plan W.

  ‘Everybody!’ he called. ‘I need your attention! Listen up! Hey! Everybody!’

  It was no use. Kal walked over to where he’d dropped his lasguns, picked them up, twirled them in both hands once, twice, three times, and then struck his pose – legs splayed wide and arms outstretched to either side. Somehow the fan across the square knew to speed up and send his coattails flying behind him.

  He shot twice with his left hand and twice with his right hand in quick succession.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘Ow!’

  ‘Yikes!’

  ‘What the–?’

  Four perfect shots had disarmed the last four combatants. ‘Now that I have your attention, I would like to propose a truce!’

  ‘Now that’s an interesting development,’ said Dutt.

  Bobo nodded. The two spies were sitting on either side of a window inside one of the abandoned shops on the square. With this entire sector of the city practically shut down due to the vampire scare, the spies pretty much had the run of the district. It kind of took the fun out of it for Markel, who had insisted on entering the shop through the ventilation shaft while Dutt just picked the lock and walked in.

  They’d given up all pretext of skulking around each other and had decided to work together for the time being. Dutt just had to watch where he pointed the pict camera and he could only speak freely if he removed the transmitter tooth.

  ‘He’s got to realise that Jonas will kill him and the others once they recover the item,’ remarked Bobo. He munched on some synthnuts that Jenn had packed for him before he left Madam Noritake’s. They still had to talk about her flirting with Jerico, but the food took the edge off of that concern for now.

  Dutt grabbed a handful of nuts and munched on them. ‘Undoubtedly,’ he said through the nuts. It was almost unintelligible, which Bobo realised was exactly what he had been going for.

  ‘Plus, he’s going against orders,’ continued Bobo. ‘Kal was supposed to do this alone. Now he’s not only bringing in his friends, but a rival gang, and the Spyrer unit sent to kill him and take the item back.’

  ‘You know what you always say, Nemo,’ said Dutt, speaking both to Bobo and to his master, ‘Kal Jerico is freaking nuts. This just goes to prove it.’

  ‘They’ve stopped arguing and are going into the
Breath of Fresh Air, well, breaking in.’ Bobo looked at Dutt. ‘Nemo wouldn’t happen to have the Fresh Air bugged, would he?’

  Dutt just smiled and nodded.

  Markel sat back and tossed a fist full of synthnuts into his mouth. This day hadn’t turned out so bad after all, and it had been fun working with Dutt. A spy’s life was usually pretty solitary. You might get a little female comfort now and again, but you never made friends; at least not the type you could talk to about work. It was a shame he’d have to kill Dutt before this was over.

  Kal entered the Breath of Fresh Air after the jar-head, Cyklus, busted through the door. ‘You didn’t have to do that,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a key.’

  ‘And where did you get a key from?’ asked a voice from behind the bar. ‘I never gave you no key.’

  ‘Squatz!’ called Kal. ‘I’m glad to see you alive.’ He walked up to the bar and peered over the top. ‘You can come out now. It’s safe.’

  Squatz climbed onto the step behind the bar and looked at the assemblage in his bar. ‘Safe, am I?’ he asked. ‘With a broken door, three rotten Spyrers in my bar, a blood feud brewing in my front room between two Wildcat leaders, and a vampire on the loose?’

  Kal thought for a moment, ‘Well, yes,’ he said. ‘Because now I’m here.’

  ‘Well that makes it all right than, doesn’t it,’ said Squatz. ‘Two things, though. First, you’re going to pay for that door.’

  ‘And second?’

  ‘Hand over the key!’

  Kal dropped the key on the bar. ‘Bring a tray of House Special when you get a chance,’ he said, dropping a small pile of credits on the bar. He turned back toward the motley crew he had brought into the bar.

  ‘It’ll stunt your growth,’ said Squatz.

  ‘You should know,’ replied Kal over his shoulder.

  It was an interesting scene in the front room. Vicksen and her last two Wildcats stood against one wall, weapons pointed at the Spyrers and at Yolanda. The three Spyrers stood against a second wall, pointing their weapons at the Wildcats and at Kal. Scabbs and Yolanda had taken a seat in the middle, their weapons on the table within easy reach. Wotan sat by the door, wagging his metal tail, which threatened to knock a hole in the wall.

  ‘Now, isn’t this more comfortable?’ asked Kal. The gangers all glared at him. ‘Okay, listen,’ he started again, pulling his lasguns out and pointing one at each group. All six gangers levelled their own weapons at Kal. ‘I’m not asking us all to be friends, but we will have to work together to stop Ar… the vampire.’

  ‘We care nothing for your so-called vampire,’ spat Vicksen. ‘It’s a Spyrer like these three, and they can all die for all I care.’

  ‘Look,’ said Kal. ‘Yolanda tells me you want clear rulership over the Wildcats. If you work with us to get the vampire, she will publicly bow to your superior battle skills and declare you the rightful leader.’

  ‘I’ll do what?’ asked Yolanda. Kal waved his pistol at her and shook his head.

  ‘’We’ll never work with them,’ cried Lysanne, pointing at the Spyrers. She was leaning against the Escher named Themis, and Kal could see she was in a great deal of pain. But there was still a fire in her eyes. ‘They killed Ashya, Tor, Tay, and half a dozen other ‘Cats.’

  ‘Fine,’ replied Kal. ‘You can work with Scabbs. Yolanda will work with Jonas’s people. We all need to pull together if we’re going to defeat Armand.’ He looked at Vicksen when he said the name. ‘Yes, he is a Spyrer… or was, anyway. But right now, he’s a menace to Hive City and the Underhive, and it’s up to us to stop him.’

  Jonas shook his head. ‘You talk nobly, Jerico, but we all know why you’re doing this – bounty, pure and simple. Helmawr is paying you handsomely to retrieve the item Armand stole, and you’re planning to use us to help make you rich.’

  ‘That was true up until about ten minutes ago,’ said Kal. ‘But then I saw my nephew pay the price for doing the job I should have been doing.’ He tossed his weapons on the table and began pacing. ‘I have family I never even knew about. You’re my cousin or nephew as well, as are these two, I guess.’

  Jonas nodded.

  ‘Well, family never really meant much to me. My mother abandoned me when I was just a baby and it wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I found out that Lord Helmawr was my father. Scabbs and Yolanda are the closest I have to family and we take care of each other. Well, now it’s time for me to take care of my real family. I’m going to save Valtin, and when we find Armand, you can take the item back to Helmawr. That was your mission, anyway wasn’t it? The old man is good at covering his bases, huh?’

  ‘You expect me to believe that you want nothing out of this but a warm, fuzzy feeling for helping out your nephew?’

  ‘That plus the two thousand credit bounty on the vampire’s head. That will belong to the three of us.’ He sat down with Yolanda and Scabbs and took a long sip of his House Special. It burned his throat.

  The room fell silent. All the weapons still pointed at Kal – which he figured was better than firing at him, or each other – but they were beginning to drop lower and lower.

  Vicksen was the first to speak. ‘What do you want us to do?’ she asked.

  Kal looked at Jonas, who nodded. ‘Your terms are acceptable. We will allow you to help us locate and neutralise Armand.’

  ‘Excellent!’ Kal smiled. ‘Squatz! Another round of House Special. My cousin Jonas is buying this time.’

  Jonas looked like he was about to argue, but dug into his pocket and tossed some credits on the table instead.

  Kal’s smile grew even larger, but before he could continue, Lysanne moaned and slipped to the floor. Vicksen put her weapons away and motioned to Themis to help her get the injured ‘Cat to the table. ‘Before we go anywhere,’ said Vicksen, ‘we need to do something about Lysanne’s ankle.’

  Kal looked at Jonas. ‘I’m certain you didn’t leave home without a medi-pack,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you get it out and help our partners deal with their wounded?’

  Jonas motioned to Leoni, who produced the medi-pack from her gear. She set it up on the table and began scanning Lysanne’s ankle. Lysanne glared at the Spyrer, but with Themis supporting her she relaxed and let Leoni do her work.

  Satisfied that the truce would hold up for now at least, Kal picked up his pistols, twirled them, and slammed them home into his holsters. ‘Well now, here’s what we need to do next,’ he said. ‘First we need to find Armand. Scabbs will take Wotan and the two Wildcats back into the square to search for clues. Second, we need more firepower for when we do find Armand. Yolanda, you go with…’ He pointed vaguely at the Spyrers.

  ‘Cyklus and Leoni,’ said Jonas.

  ‘Go with Cyklus and Leoni to get all the rigs and bring them back here,’ finished Kal.

  ‘And what will you be doing?’ asked Vicksen and Jonas together.

  ‘I need to sit and think,’ said Kal. ‘And I do my best thinking in a bar with friendly company. I’d prefer to be in the Sump Hole with Scabbs and Yolanda, but you two and this place will just have to do.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Squatz. ‘If it’s all the same to you, you can all go to the Sump Hole. In fact, any sump hole will do.’

  Valtin’s head pounded with a steady rhythm that felt like a spike driving deeper and deeper into his eyes. At first he thought the drumming was his own heart, driving blood and pain into his brain with every beat, but after a time he began to realise that the pounding was external. There was a banging sound outside his head that went along with the vibrations pounding in his brain.

  Of course, pain meant that he was alive, which came as a bit of a surprise. The next step, he decided, was to open his eyes and find out why. When he slid his eyelids open, precious little light seeped in, which was good, for he feared that bright light would make his head explode with even more pain. What little light there was came from work lamps that seemed to be attached to railings by the wall.

  Where was he? That wa
s what Valtin really wanted to know, as well as the nagging question of why he was alive. He was afraid to broach that other question, though, because he was still a little worried that the answer might be that he wasn’t alive at all. Had it not been for his first brief glimpse of Hive City earlier, Valtin could easily have believed it was hell.

  He couldn’t move, so his field of vision was pretty narrow. There was the wall, which looked slightly curved. It was difficult to tell because of the intertwined mass of pipes, conduits, cables, and wires attached to the wall. There was also a floor, although to call it a floor gave it more credit than it really deserved. It was no more than metal mesh laid across support beams. In fact, looking down through the floor at the jumble of pipes disappearing into the darkness, made Valtin feel like he was floating. Or falling. The sudden vertigo caused his stomach to heave. Very little came up, though, as he hadn’t eaten since leaving the Spire.

  As Valtin’s body shook with dry heaves, new pains flared around his wrists and ankles. His mind seemed a little less cloudy now with the rush of adrenalin that the retching brought with it and he realised the reason he couldn’t move was that he was bound hand and foot; trussed up like a calf on its way to slaughter.

  He also realised that the banging had ceased, although that did little to lessen the pain in his head. A moment later a pair of bare feet and two hairy legs came into his view. He rolled over a little to get a better look, wincing at the cutting pain in his wrists and ankles. Towering above him was Armand, naked, carrying a large dagger.

  He certainly looked the part of an Underhive monster. His wild hair, all matted and tangled, grabbed at his sweaty neck and shoulders. Fresh cuts covered his filth-covered, half-naked body, some of which looked quite deep. Blood trickled down his stomach from an open wound and Valtin could see blood on the tip of the dagger in his hand.

  ‘Good,’ said Armand. ‘You’re awake – and alive. I was worried, worried, worried. Your blood will stay fresher if you’re alive. Good. Good.’

  Armand’s eyes glowed with almost the same intensity as the artificial eyes in his Spyrer suit.