Kal jerico sinners bount.., p.16
Kal Jerico: Sinner's Bounty, page 16
‘Gladly. And while he’s eating you, I’ll slip inside.’
As they drew near, the hulking stig lurched to his feet with a querulous snort. Kal stopped and waited. Sure enough, a smaller figure stepped out from just inside the bulkhead. The Cawdor was stunted and tiny, no taller than Kal’s hip. He wore heavy, shapeless robes and a badly stitched mask over wizened, cherub features.
‘What’s the password?’ he demanded in shrill tones. One chubby hand rested on the pin holding the guard’s chains in place.
Kal glanced at Scabbs. ‘What day is it?’
‘What?’
‘The day, the day – what day is it?’ Kal threw up his hands in annoyance. ‘Never mind. Let me in, Peloquin, or I’ll punt you into the sump.’
‘Password! Password!’ Peloquin cried, hopping angrily. The giant rumbled in agreement and shifted his not inconsiderable weight.
‘You know who I am, Peloquin!’
‘No, I don’t,’ the little man said, in a sing-song voice.
‘Yes, you do.’
‘No, I don’t!’
‘You do.’
‘Don’t!’
‘Do.’
‘Don’t, don’t, don’t!’ Peloquin grew more incensed, and began hopping in a circle. ‘I don’t, I don’t, I don’t!’
Kal shrugged. ‘You’re right, you don’t.’
‘I do,’ Peloquin snarled. He slapped his hands over his mouth a moment later, eyes bulging in frustration.
Kal scratched his chin. ‘No, you don’t.’
Unable to contain himself, Peloquin snapped, ‘I do, I do!’
‘Are you sure?’
Peloquin trembled with rage. For a moment, Kal thought he’d pull the pin and release the stig to spite him. Then he seemed to deflate and stumped aside. ‘Go in,’ he muttered, kicking at the ground. Kal smiled and ushered Scabbs in.
‘What the scav was that about?’ Scabbs said, as they stepped inside.
‘Little men bear big grudges,’ Kal said. He looked around. The main room was large and square. Tables filled it, each one occupied by several Cawdor. They clustered about the bar as well. Every one of them stopped what they were doing as Kal and Scabbs stepped inside and turned to study the newcomers.
‘Is this – this is a Cawdor watering hole?’ Scabbs muttered. ‘Oh, not good.’
‘No. Perfect.’ Kal looked around. Masked faces turned away. ‘Where else would we find what we needed?’
‘Is this why you told Amanute to stay outside?’
‘One of several reasons, yes.’ Kal headed for the bar. ‘Come on.’ He knocked on the metal surface, and the barkeep hurried towards him. The woman was thin to the point of emaciation, with lines of scripture tattooed on one cheek. Her hair was cropped short, and her face was all hard angles and sharp edges. She wore a heavy leather smock, and a stub-pistol holstered under one arm. Kal grinned. ‘Hello, Piety. How’s tricks?’
‘What do you want, Jerico?’ Piety said, in a voice like ground glass.
‘A drink?’
‘We don’t serve your kind here.’
‘Heathens?’
‘Bounty hunters.’
Kal felt the room go still. ‘I’m not after anyone in here,’ he said, loudly. ‘Just a bit of information is all. Surely you can spare me that?’
Piety stared at him. ‘Buy a drink. And one for your friend.’
Kal smiled widely. ‘Two shots of Wildsnake. The good stuff, not the rotgut.’
Piety frowned, but served them up. ‘Now drink up and get out.’
‘What about my information?’
‘You have until you finish your drink.’
Kal nodded. ‘Fair enough.’ He held up his glass. ‘First, a toast. To Caul the Fallen. May he never be forgotten, though this world drift into darkness.’
A murmur passed through the room as the Cawdor echoed the toast, not entirely willingly.
Kal took a sip and smacked his lips. ‘Good stuff.’
Piety glared at him. ‘Talk. Quickly.’
‘I’m looking for someone.’
‘That’s what bounty hunters do.’
‘They’ve likely just arrived.’
‘People come and go all day, every day. It’s a big settlement.’
‘They’d probably come here.’
Piety tapped the bar. ‘One of the faithful?’ she asked, quietly.
‘Depends on who you ask.’ Kal leaned close, voice pitched low. ‘Desolation Zoon.’
Piety grimaced. ‘I knew it.’ She looked past him, as if checking for eavesdroppers. ‘I haven’t seen him.’
Kal glanced down the bar at the Cawdor watching them. ‘I could ask someone else…’
Piety held up a warning finger. ‘No you don’t. I won’t have you wreck this place, not like last time.’
‘Then tell me something. You say you haven’t seen him. Fine. What have you heard?’
‘That he got waylaid a day south of Rickety Splits. Heard of it?’
‘Yeah, it’s a scummer hole. What happened?’
‘What do you think happened? He wiped them out. But his hauler was shot up and maybe he was too. Or maybe he got hurt earlier…’
‘Spore Falls,’ Kal said.
Piety nodded. ‘Maybe. Way I heard it, Zoon is running downhive. No one really knows why. Something important, though, because he’s only stopping to refuel and rearm.’
‘Where’s he going?’
Piety shrugged. ‘I’ve heard different names…’
‘Which one have you heard the most?’
She looked away. ‘Perdition.’
‘Never heard of it.’
‘You wouldn’t have. You’re not one of the faithful.’
‘A Cawdor settlement?’
‘New. Settled a few years back, right out on the fringes of the bad zones. Way down and out, where sensible folk don’t tread.’
‘Sounds like Cawdor all right.’ Kal took another sip, and relished the burn of it on his tongue. ‘What about here and now? Where is he?’
‘I’m not telling you that.’
Kal made to push himself back from the bar. ‘I guess I could ask around, then.’ He made a show of looking around.
Piety bared her teeth. ‘Damn you, Jerico. Do you want to get us both killed?’
‘Not particularly.’ He leaned back towards her. ‘Keep talking.’
Piety held his gaze for a moment, and then looked away. ‘Scav. Fine. There’s word that an unlicensed ore-hauler is taking up a berth near the southern gate.’
‘There are always unlicensed haulers near the southern gate,’ Kal said. There were mines to the south of the settlement. ‘Give me something better, or I start rousting punters.’
Piety sighed. ‘Doc Mullica. Know him?’ Her eyes widened slightly, and he knew she’d seen something behind him. He could hear chairs scraping back.
‘Kal,’ Scabbs said, tugging on his coat.
‘Quiet,’ Kal said. He didn’t take his eyes off Piety. He knew what he’d see, and he wanted what she knew. ‘I know the name. Rogue doc, right?’
‘Kal,’ Scabbs said, again. More urgently this time. Kal ignored him.
‘He’s in the water-district, just past the High Bazaar. You know it – or do you need a map?’ Piety’s gaze flicked past him, and then back. Kal’s smile didn’t falter. It had only been a matter of time before the Cawdor in the place decided that they didn’t like him asking questions about Zoon. Redemptionists were heroes in the eyes of the Scavenger-House.
‘Kal,’ Scabbs pleaded.
Kal didn’t turn around. ‘I know. How many?’
‘All of them.’
Kal rolled his head, loosening the muscles in his neck and shoulders. ‘Fine.’ He cracked his knuckles and nodded to Piety. ‘Mullica. Thanks, Piety.’
Piety dropped below the level of the bar without replying. Kal emptied his glass and turned.
Every Cawdor in the place was on their feet, their eyes on him and Scabbs. Kal bounced his glass on his palm.
‘So… who’s first?’
A Cawdor rushed towards him, fists cocked, broken teeth bared in a snarl. Kal hurled the shot glass at him. The glass caught the Cawdor between the eyes, and he dropped to the floor without a sound. The suddenness of it brought the others up short. Just long enough for Kal to go for a pistol. He swung it around, pointing it at each face in turn.
‘First got the glass. Second gets worse. Any takers?’
Hands twitched above holstered weapons. Any moment now, someone was going to make the mistake of thinking that they were a faster shot than a man with a drawn weapon. Kal’s grin tightened.
‘Scabbs?’
Scabbs stood beside him, autogun in hand. He’d torn the weapon from over his shoulder and brought it up the moment the glass had left Kal’s hand. ‘Yeah, Kal?’ he said, sighting down the weapon’s barrel.
‘How many rounds in that thing’s drum?’
‘Thirty or so,’ Scabbs said. ‘Why?’
‘Not a lot of room in here, is there?’
‘Nope.’
‘So if you pull that trigger, you’re going to fill a little space with a lot of lead, right?’
Scabbs smiled. ‘Right, Kal.’
Kal nodded. ‘That’s what I thought.’ He looked around. The Cawdor were looking less sure of themselves. He pointed his laspistol at the ones closest to the entrance. ‘Move away from the door.’ They did, though not swiftly. ‘Scabbs…?’
‘Going,’ Scabbs said, sidling towards the entrance. Kal followed, and the crowd rotated with them, shuffling back to give them room. Scabbs stopped, just at the doorway. ‘Uh… Kal?’
Kal glanced towards his partner and saw a massive shape squeeze through the aperture. The stig grumbled interrogatively as he filled the doorway, a massive hand to either side of it. Atop him, Peloquin sneered down at Kal. The little man sat in a makeshift harness of leather straps and wooden boards set atop the creature’s broad shoulders.
‘What’s the password?’ Peloquin shrilled.
‘Oh, scav,’ Kal said.
‘Get him,’ Peloquin squealed, drumming his heels against his mount’s shoulders. The hulking creature lunged with unexpected swiftness, meaty paws groping for Kal’s neck. Kal ducked under the thing’s outstretched arms and drew his sword. He slashed out, cutting away the straps that held Peloquin atop his compatriot.
The little man squawked as his perch became unstable, and began hitting the brute atop the head. ‘Stop him! Catch him! Throttle him!’
The giant turned, big hands flexing. He upended a table, sending it crashing against the opposite wall, and roared gutturally. Kal tried to dart past, but the guard stretched out an arm, blocking his path.
‘Scabbs – get out of here,’ Kal called. A moment later, he saw that Scabbs had already fled, and cursed. ‘Scabbs, get back here!’
Peloquin laughed as the brute lurched after Kal, grabbing for his arm and coat. Kal slashed at the creature’s hand, and the giant jerked the wounded limb back with a pained grunt. Peloquin began to curse and strike his oversized partner on the head.
‘No, no, no! Take the sword, break the sword – then break him!’
The stig gargled a response and smashed another table out of the way as Kal desperately sought a way past. The creature snatched up chairs and hurled them, forcing Kal to duck and weave around the room.
‘Piety – call off the dogs,’ he cried, glancing towards the bar. ‘I’ll leave, if you call them off!’
‘Take it outside, Peloquin,’ Piety shouted, from behind the bar. ‘You’re wrecking the place and I haven’t made the final payments yet.’
‘Not what I meant, but I’ll take it,’ Kal muttered. He slipped in a puddle of beer and fell to one knee, narrowly avoiding a blow from the stig’s fist. He threw himself forwards, rolling awkwardly across the floor.
The creature turned slightly, as Peloquin leaned towards the bar. ‘He doesn’t get out without the password,’ the little man howled.
‘Here’s my password,’ Kal said. He shot to his feet and slashed out, cutting through the last of the straps holding Peloquin in place. The little man wailed as he slid from his perch in a tangle of harness and thudded to the floor. The giant lurched in a wild circle, seemingly confused by the sudden loss of his burden. Kal took the opportunity to scramble past and hurl himself at the nearest window.
Cheap glass shattered and he tumbled gracelessly to the street. He was on his feet moments later, sword extended towards the window. But no one followed him. He spotted Scabbs near the door.
‘Where were you?’
‘You told me to leave.’
Kal sheathed his sword and brushed glass from his shoulder. ‘Yes, but you’d already left. At least do me the courtesy of waiting for me to make the self-sacrificing gesture before abandoning me, Scabbs. It’s only fair.’
‘I was giving you room to manoeuvre,’ Scabbs said, defensively.
‘I don’t need that much room.’ Shouts from the doorway drew Kal’s attention. ‘Uh-oh, looks like they’ve regrouped. Time to go.’ They hurried quickly across the street. Yolanda met them with an amused look on her face.
‘Have fun, husband?’
‘Time of my life, barring our wedding, my sweet,’ Kal said. ‘We should go now.’
‘Go where, exactly?’ Yolanda looked past him and drew her autopistol. She fired a burst in the general direction of the watering hole. Kal turned and saw several Cawdor scrambling back inside.
‘High Bazaar,’ Kal said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HUNTER-CADRE
The shunt slid to a halt in a shower of sparks and with a screech of pneumatics. Baertrum unsnapped his restraint harness and rose to his feet, carefully adjusting the hang of his beard.
‘Well now, that wasn’t so bad.’ He looked at the others. ‘Quite pleasant, really.’
Big Sledge bent over on his bench and vomited noisily onto the deck. Horst patted him sympathetically.
Baertrum raised an eyebrow. ‘Come now, gentlemen. I was assured that the Goliaths were of hardy constitution.’
‘Not everyone is used to high-speed transit,’ Belladonna said, flexing her bionic hand. She did that often, Baertrum noticed. As if she weren’t yet used to its weight. She smiled. ‘Especially down here.’
‘Perhaps.’ Baertrum turned as the shunt’s hatches slid open with a creak. ‘In any event, we’re here. Let’s go.’
The transit tunnel was barely lit. Flickering orbs lined the upper reaches of the tunnel, casting a watery glow over the track and the platform. The lumen system, like most of Hive Primus’ infrastructure, suffered from centuries of neglect. Whatever the extent of Nemo’s influence, even he had limits, it seemed.
The tunnel walls bulged with rotting cabling and rusty conduits. Access panels hung open, disgorging their contents in tangled sputtering spills across the platform. It was a flat expanse of ferrocrete, broken up by hummocks of mould-shrouded machinery – ancient cogitators and display screens, now long since abandoned.
Baertrum sighed, softly. ‘Once, this place would have been crowded every hour of the day. People travelling back and forth. Workers, overseers, even nobility… and now look at it. Ruined and forgotten like everything else down here.’
‘Ruined maybe. But not forgotten.’ Belladonna looked around. She sank to one knee and ran a finger along the ground. ‘Dirt, but no dust. This place has seen regular use, and recently.’
‘I doubt Nemo would have sent us somewhere outside of his control.’ Baertrum looked up, searching the shadows. ‘No doubt he’s watching us even now.’
Belladonna rose to her feet. ‘Does that bother you?’
‘It doesn’t bother you?’ Baertrum looked at her. ‘You’re a strange woman.’
‘Is that a compliment?’
‘If you like.’
Belladonna smiled. ‘Trying to flatter me, adjurator?’
Baertrum stroked his beard. ‘Merely speaking truth as I see it. After our last… encounter, brief as it was, I never thought to cross paths with you again.’
‘Brief but memorable,’ she said, her smile becoming something more meaningful. Baertrum scratched his chin, somewhat flustered. He cleared his throat.
‘It was quite a party.’
‘No one throws a Sanguinala celebration quite like Nightside Jo.’ Belladonna smiled. ‘Remember when that caryatid fell into the punch bowl?’
Baertrum chuckled. ‘I never even realised those unpleasant little beasts could get drunk.’ He looked at her. ‘I have heard stories about you. I can imagine what Nemo offered you, to serve him…’
Her smile faded. ‘I do not serve him. He has something I want, that is all.’ Her grip on her axe tightened, and Baertrum smiled thinly.
‘Of course. Do forgive me.’ He sniffed as a foul stench reached his sensitive nostrils. A steam pipe had ruptured somewhere, and the air was thick with a damp fug. He grimaced and waved a hand in front of his face.
Behind him, Big Sledge grunted. ‘It stinks here.’
‘Pure air is only for the faithful,’ came a voice that echoed across the platform. ‘We humble sinners must make do with less rarefied atmospheres.’
Big Sledge cursed and drew his pistol. Horst raised his spud-jacker. The two Goliaths were on edge, stimm-rigs blinking.
Baertrum glanced at Belladonna and saw that the bounty huntress hadn’t reacted, save to quirk an eyebrow. Her power axe remained settled on her shoulder. Indeed, she looked bored. Baertrum’s admiration grew. She was a magnificent woman. She noticed his attentions and the hint of a smile curled at the edges of her mouth.
‘Less than a dozen,’ she murmured.
‘And how do you know that?’
She tapped the steel rim of her cybernetic eye. ‘Heat signatures.’
