Runner (38 page)

Rebo eyed the structure. It was solid, but far from fancy, and, judging from the signs that hung out front, the building housed a rug merchant and an apothecary in addition to the Techno Society. “All right,” the runner said, as he
checked to ensure that his weapons were loose in their holsters. “Surprise is everything. Once inside I'll take care of the staff. Lanni and Lee will look for the star gate. Any questions?”

Lee frowned. “What if Lanni and I don't find the gate?”

“Then tell me,” Rebo answered, “and we'll run like hell. But let's hope you find it, because the spaceport would be a tough nut to crack, and I have no desire to live in Cresus for the rest of my life.”

Hoggles grinned. “And neither do I.”

Norr looked up at the variant. “Really? You're coming with us?”

The giant nodded gravely. “If you'll have me.”

Rebo raised an eyebrow. “We don't know where we're going to end up.”

Hoggles shrugged. “It can't be any worse than Cresus.”

“You can stay with me if you want,” Lee said, as he peered upward. “My brothers and sisters will welcome you.”

The heavy wasn't sure that he was ready to adopt a monastic life, but nodded anyway and gave the boy a pat on the head. “Thank you, friend. We'll see what the future brings.”

“Okay,” Rebo said, eyeing his friends. “Bo will help me deal with the staff. Let's get this over with.”

The runner led the others across the cobblestone street, up a short flight of stairs, and through a much-abused door. The apothecary was to the left and the rug merchant was to the right. A sign indicated that the Techno Society was located on the second floor, and Rebo was halfway up the wooden stairs when a metal man stepped out of a door and started down. The robot had been programmed to look for the very people now blocking the way, and while emotionless, paused to double-check the data provided by its
sensors. The machine had turned, and was about to give the alarm, when Rebo did it for him.

Though never quiet, the Hogger sounded like a cannon as it went off within the close confines of the stairwell. The slug struck the android between its alloy shoulder blades, severed the fiber-optic pathway that ran down through the center of its plastic spinal column, and dumped the machine onto the stairs. The metal man wasn't dead, not so long as its processor continued to function, but it was certainly out of commission.

Ilia Posa heard the gunshot and was fumbling for the pistol that she kept in her top desk drawer, when a man with a gun burst through her door. From the shouting that could be heard from out in the hall, she judged that he wasn't alone. “Hold it right there,” Rebo ordered. “Raise your hands.”

The station chief had little choice but to comply.

“What about
my
hands?” a voice croaked, and the runner turned to see that an old woman lay on the floor and that a little girl was crouched at her side. “Yeah, you too,” Rebo responded backing up so he could he could keep track of all three of them at once. “Where's Kane?”

Posa saw no reason to lie. “He's in Zand.”

“They're holding us prisoner,” the seer said hoarsely. “Let my granddaughter go.”

The runner eyed the little girl and jerked his head toward the door. “She can go.”

The old crone whispered something to the girl, who nodded obediently and scampered out of the room. “So,” Rebo said as he refocused his attention on Posa, “when will Kane return?”

The station chief shrugged. “The journey takes weeks.”

The Crosser barked and the woman jerked as the bullet scored her left cheek. “Wrong answer,” the runner said grimly.
“The trip takes no more than a few seconds if you have a star gate.”

“He's got you there!” the seer cackled approvingly.

Posa touched her cheek and examined her hand. There was blood on it. For the first time since the invasion had begun, she was truly afraid. “What do you want?”

“The gate,” Rebo said grimly. “Take me to it. And no tricks . . . I can find it without you.”

Posa, her left hand on her cheek, led the runner down a dingy green hall. The station chief was forced to step over her security chief, who no longer looked like himself, and lay in a pool of steadily spreading blood. The rest of the staff waited beyond, faces to a wall, hands on their heads. A heavy, his war hammer drenched with blood, nodded politely.

The man with the gun said, “Keep moving,” and Posa had just rounded a corner and stepped into the station's conference room, when she saw the sensitive and the little boy. They had already searched the space and discovered the hinged painting. “There it is,” Norr said, pointing at the keypad that was set into the wall. “All we need is the code.”

“You heard her,” the runner said as he jabbed the gun into the station chief's back. “Enter the code.”

Hand shaking Posa did as she was bid. Something went
thud,
a motor whirred, and an entire section of wall slid out of the way. “Check it out,” Rebo said, “but be careful.”

Norr nodded, motioned for Lee to remain where he was, and thumbed the power switch. The vibro blade hummed ominously as the sensitive stepped into the chamber beyond. The air was cool but stale. Though dim, the lighting was adequate, and Norr saw what she was looking for up ahead. More than that she
felt
it, as something made her stomach feel queasy and triggered a headache.

The symptoms were sufficient to claim some of the
sensitive's attention, but not all of it, which was fortunate. Norr “felt” a source of life energy above her, and looked upward just in time to see the carefully hidden sentry drop off a ledge, a two-foot-long blade held in each hand. The sensitive fell backward, heard steel swish through the space she had just vacated, and rolled to her feet. The sentry grinned, and his short blades whirred as they etched patterns into the air.

But skilled though he was, the sentry was human, which meant that he was surrounded by a multicolored energy field. And because the sensitive had spent her entire adult life studying such things she could read her opponent's aura, and thus his intentions. That enabled Norr to swing her blade at the spot the sentry was
about
to occupy, which meant that when he stepped into that position, the vibro blade was there to meet him. The weapon sliced down through a shoulder blade and into his chest.

He looked surprised, and Norr felt sorry for him as his physical body fell, and his spirit remained standing. But there was no time to console the man, or offer him counsel, as Rebo entered the room behind her. The runner eyed the body, said, “Good work,” and pointed at the door marked
DECONTAMINATION LOCK
. “Let's get that sucker open . . . Bo locked the staff into a storeroom, but it won't take them long to escape.”

The lock opened in response to the sensitive's touch, the others followed Norr inside, and Hoggles pulled the door closed behind him. There was a
hiss,
followed by a roar, as jets of disinfectant-laden hot water hit the foursome from every possible angle. Rebo spluttered. “It's some sort of bath!”

The water turned to steam as it hit the vibro blade and Norr thumbed the weapon off. Her dark hair hung in wet strands all around her face, and her clothes were plastered to
her body as she sought to protect the gate seed from the water. “It's about time that three of you took a shower!”

The humor was lost on the others as they were systematically drenched and buffeted with blasts of hot air, before being allowed to enter the circular chamber beyond. Water continued to drop from their clothes as they looked around. Norr immediately recognized the tiles that covered the walls as being similar to those she had seen under the city of Tra, except that some of these were lit, and clearly active. Lee was delighted by his surroundings and read some of the names out loud. “Look! There's Anafa! And Hemo, and Pooz, and Zand!”

“We need to find the one labeled Thara,” Rebo said as he scanned the squares arrayed in front of him.

“Here it is,” Hoggles said, “but it's dark.”

Rebo felt a crushing sense of disappointment. Partly because of what that might mean near term—but for an additional reason as well. Thara was more than another destination, it was the planet on which he had been born and the primary reason why he had agreed to take on this particular assignment. To come so close, then be blocked, was hard to take. “Try it anyway,” the runner said hopefully. “Let's see what happens.”

Hoggles pushed on the tile, and felt it give, but there was no response.

“Then let's go to Etu,” Norr said pragmatically as she pointed to a brightly lit tile. “That's where the ship would have taken us from here—and we can reach Thara from there.”

“Maybe,” Rebo replied darkly, “assuming the next ship is operational . . .But that's then—and this is now. Go ahead—punch us out of here.”

The sensitive pressed against the shiny surface, felt the
square give, and gave an involuntary start as a woman's voice issued from a speaker mounted over her head. “The transfer sequence is about to begin. Please take your place on the service platform. Once in place check to ensure that no portion of your anatomy extends beyond the yellow line. Failure to do so will cause serious injury and could result in death.”

“Come on!” Rebo urged as he stepped up onto a slightly raised platform. “Who knows how quickly this thing works!”

Because of the size of the heavy's body it was difficult for all four of them to squeeze inside the yellow safety circle, but they made it, and were locked in a group hug when they were blinded by a flash of light. Rebo lost his vision, felt sick to his stomach, and wondered if he was dead.

Posa had escaped from the storeroom, by then. She entered the control room, slapped the kill switch for the station's generator, and the lights went out. Dozens of tiles on dozens of planets suddenly went dark as Ning's number two star gate went off-line. “That should fix the bastards,” the station chief said grimly, and went to get her pistol. The little girl had escaped—but her grandmother was going to die.

THIRTEEN
The Planet Etu

Because variants were created by man rather than God—they cannot be categorized as human.

—Archbishop Chario Immu,
The Church of Etu

Rebo screamed, but no one could hear him as his body was
ripped apart, transmitted through hyperspace, and systematically reassembled many light-years away. A fraction of a second passed while the runner hung suspended in midair, followed by a sudden fall as local gravity took over, and Rebo crashed to the floor below. It was slanted, and he was still in the process of sliding downward, when Lee landed on top of him. There was a loud grunt as Hoggles crashed next to the pair, followed by a
thump
as Norr landed on her feet.

“Where the hell are we?” the runner inquired as he struggled to get up. The floor was cracked, slanted,
and
lower than it was supposed to be. The gravity was lighter than Ning's, however, which made it easier to get up.

“I assume we're on Etu,” the sensitive replied, as she
scanned the mosaic of tiles that covered the walls. “Look! The control for Cresus is dark! I wonder what happened?”

“Beats me,” Hoggles said ponderously, “but judging from the kind of folks we left behind, we'd better get ready for a fight.”

“That sounds like excellent advice,” Rebo agreed, and felt his stomach heave as he made for the door. It looked a little out of square, as if whatever caused the floor to buckle had done damage to it as well, and that gave rise to a series of questions: Would the hatch open? What would they do if it didn't? And what lay beyond?

The runner pressed his palm against the sensor plate and felt a sense of relief as a motor whined, and the barrier began to move. But that was when he heard a grinding noise, followed by a loud
click
as a relay opened, and the motor stopped. The runner stuck his right arm through the gap, but it was obvious that not even Lee would be able to squeeze through.

“What now?” Norr said weakly, as she battled the urge to vomit.

“Bo can force it open,” Lee said confidently. “Can't you, Bo?”

The heavy looked down at the boy and forced a smile. “I don't know,” he replied honestly, “but I'll try.”

So saying, the variant handed his war hammer to Norr, made his way over to the door, and got into position. Then, having set his feet, Hoggles pushed. Muscles writhed, cords stood out from his neck, and all manner of veins appeared as the heavy exerted all of his considerable strength.

There was no reaction at first, and Norr had started to wonder if the task was hopeless, when she heard something creak. That was followed by a
groan
as metal gave way, followed by a
clang
as a locking pin broke, and a
rattle
as the
door slid back into its housing. “See?” Lee demanded proudly. “I told you he could do it!”

“And you were correct,” Rebo agreed as he removed the Crosser from its holster. “Now, let's see what's waiting for us outside.”

Only half the water jets came on as the runner entered the decontamination chamber—and those that remained operational lacked force. The air blowers
were
working, however, and the runner had no choice but to wait them out, since it was apparent that the next door wasn't going to open until the cleansing cycle had completed itself.

Once the dryers clicked off, the door opened smoothly, and Rebo raised his weapon. But, rather than the bloodthirsty horde of metal men he half expected to see, the runner found himself looking out into a dusty room half-filled with debris. A few steps were sufficient to ascertain that no one waiting to ambush them, and, judging from the all-pervasive silence, the surrounding structure had been abandoned. Once clear of the decontamination room the nausea started to fade.

“Maybe they were hit by an earthquake,” Norr speculated as she toed a chunk of broken duracrete. “That would account for all of the destruction.”

Rebo nodded. He had been through a quake once, on a planet called Keno, and knew how destructive such events could be. “That would explain it,” he agreed. “But it appears that whatever the techno crazies use for power is still operational. And that means they can follow us.”

“I thought we were going to sabotage the place,” Hoggles remarked as examined the damage.

The runner shrugged. “Yeah, that was the plan, but I don't have the foggiest idea how to go about it. Especially with all of this debris in the way.”

“Then let's do what we do best,” Norr put in. “Let's get the heck out of here.”

“That works for me,” Rebo agreed as he made his way toward an unobstructed archway. “And who knows? Maybe the next leg of the journey will be easy.”

“Yeah,” Hoggles replied darkly. “And maybe L-phants will fly.”

The Planet Ning

The blowers stopped, Kane palmed the door, and waited for it to open. Except for the boots that the operative held in his right hand, he was nude as the barrier slid out of the way to reveal Posa and two members of her staff. Incredibly, and for reasons Kane couldn't fathom, they held weapons that were pointed at
him
. If they found his lack of clothing to be offensive, there was no sign of it. “Please let me be the first to welcome you back,” the station chief said sarcastically. “There's some good news and some bad news. The good news is that you won't have to pay Cayo's wife the second half of the fee . . . The bad news is that rather than head for the spaceport, the way you assumed that she would, the sensitive and her ruffians came
here
instead. They murdered two of my staff members before making a jump to Etu. I cut the power after they entered the transfer chamber—but they were already in transit by then.”

It was a lot to absorb, but the operative had a quick mind, and was able to make sense of it. It looked like Cayo had been correct about Norr's plans, but because of differences between the spirit and physical planes, had misjudged how much time things would take. The operative made a mental note to return to Zand, kill Cayo's wife, and retrieve the money. Not because the Techno Society was short of
funds—but as a point of honor. “Okay,” he said levelly, “so why point those weapons at
me?
”

“Because Shaz returned to Anafa six days ago,” Posa explained, “and we're the only ones who know what happened here. You would kill us if you could, blame the murders on the sensitive, and continue on your way.
That's
why.”

Kane hadn't had the opportunity to hatch such a plot as yet, but knew he would have and was forced to raise his estimate of the station chief's intelligence. “That's absurd,” the operative lied, and held his arms straight out to emphasize his nudity. “I'm unarmed, not to mention a bit chilly, so how 'bout we continue this discussion in your office?”

“Give him his clothes,” Posa said gruffly, “and let him get dressed. Once that's accomplished bring him to me. Everyone in this organization is accountable—even Mr. high-and-mighty Kane.”

The man in question hoped it wasn't true, but feared that it was, and had little choice but to cooperate. Even though Shaz was back on Anafa, the variant was still only minutes away, and the knowledge made Kane's knees feel weak. The clothes hit him in the chest—and he hurried to put them on.

The Planet Etu

It was difficult to tell what the city of Epano had been like before the quake, because most of the buildings constructed during the last hundred years lay in ruins; but as the foursome picked their way through rubble-littered streets, Rebo got the impression of wide boulevards, which had been laid out grid fashion, ornate public buildings, some of which remained intact, and lush greenery, all of which was coated with dust.

Smartly uniformed troops could be seen,
lots
of them,
and seemed to have the situation well in hand. People were out and about, but there were no casualties to be seen, which suggested that they had been removed to hospitals. Further evidence of how organized the local government was could be seen in the gangs of workers already toiling to remove debris from the streets so that repairs could get under way.

In marked contrast to the other cities they'd been in recently, Rebo noticed that none of the civilians were armed. That caused him to remove the gun belt from around his waist and place the Hogger in his pack. His jacket hid the Crosser, so he left that weapon where it was.

The enormous war hammer was impossible to hide, but Hoggles managed to disguise the weapon by wrapping the business end with rags, which he tied into place with twine. Norr's vibro blade was concealed within her staff so there was no need to alter its appearance.
Her
appearance, however, as well as the heavy's, was a definite problem, which quickly became apparent as the travelers rounded a corner and happened onto a checkpoint.

They saw the group of soldiers up ahead and were about to angle away from them, when a sharp-eyed file leader spotted them. He frowned as if he had just bitten into something he didn't like the taste of. He wore leather body armor, a knee-length kilt, and sandal-style boots. He spoke standard but with the lilt typical of the local population. “Come on . . . Don't be shy . . . Let's have a look at you.”

Rebo didn't like the situation, not one little bit, but had to comply. He stepped forward and the others followed. The file leader had thick brows, a hooked nose, and thin lips. “So,” he said, addressing himself to Rebo, “who are you? Who do the freaks belong to? And where are their chains?”

Having suddenly been confronted with a series of
questions that he wasn't prepared to answer, the runner struggled to come up with answers, and do so quickly enough to seem credible. It seemed safe to assume that the term “freaks” referred to the variants, both of whom looked like what they were, but what to make of the rest? Rebo decided to start with the obvious stuff and elaborate from there. “My name is Rebo, Jak Rebo, and this is my son Lee. As for the freaks, they belong to me.”

The officer nodded. “Well, Citizen Rebo, these are difficult times, but you know the rules. Variants must wear restraints . . . And hoods, too. What if the big fellow were to turn on you? Or the witch were to channel an evil spirit? The laws were written for
your
protection.”

Rebo thought about Lysander and could understand the concern. Strangely, while the variants had attracted negative attention, it seemed as if they had served to establish Rebo's status as a lawful citizen, too, since there had been no effort to confirm his identity.

Meanwhile, having been referred to as freaks, and discussed them as if they were little more than livestock, both Hoggles and Norr were understandably outraged. The heavy wrapped and rewrapped his fingers around the war hammer's handle while the sensitive bit her lower lip.

“Yes, I know that,” Rebo said humbly. “Unfortunately my wife and I lost nearly everything in the quake. The house collapsed, and we were lucky to escape with our lives.”

“Well, we don't have any hoods,” the file leader responded sympathetically, “but we do have some spare leg irons.” So saying the officer called for one of his noncoms and gave the necessary orders. Metal rattled as two sets of leg irons were removed from a wooden hand cart and the variants had little choice but to remain motionless as the heavy restraints were locked around their ankles.

“There you go,” the file leader said as he handed the keys to Rebo, “get some hoods on them as soon as you can. I hear the slave market will reopen soon . . . The heavy would fetch a good price. Especially given all the rebuilding that needs to be done. Perhaps the proceeds could go toward rebuilding your home.”

“That's a good idea,” the runner agreed politely. “Thank you for all of your help.”

“That's what we're here for,” the soldier replied pompously, and gave Rebo a slip of parchment. “Here, show this to any unit that stops you, and good luck.”

Rebo accepted the pass and tucked it away. Then, having taken Lee by the hand, the off-worlder assumed what he hoped was the appropriate demeanor. “All right, you two—that's enough standing around. We have work to do.”

The chains that connected the ankle bracelets together weren't very long, which forced Norr and Hoggles to adopt a quick shuffle in order to keep up. It was awkward, humiliating, and ultimately painful.

The runner took the first turn that he could, gave thanks for the fact that there weren't any troops in sight, and gave the keys to the variants. “Here, hang on to these, but leave the shackles in place. We'll get stopped if you don't.”

Norr made a face. “Okay, but walk more slowly, and let's put some padding in these things.”

“All right,” Rebo agreed lightly. “But try to look a little more subservient. I think I could get used to it.”

“In your dreams,” the sensitive replied. “In your dreams.”

The Planet Ning

Someone pushed Kane from behind. He stumbled, and nearly fell, but managed to keep his balance. The seer had
been laid out across the top of the station chief's desk the last time the operative had been in her office, but the old woman had disappeared, as had the little girl. There was a patch of what might have been blood on the floor, which suggested that Posa had put the two of them to death, not that it made any difference to Kane. He had problems of his own, not the least of which was figuring out how to escape before the station chief shipped him to Anafa, or summoned Shaz to Ning, either of which would almost certainly be fatal.