Berserker (Messenger Book 2) Page 31

  Hector noticed that, even with her limp and burn scar, Celeste's good grooming and healthy complexion—rare commodities in this community—were attracting a number of leers. He put his meaty arm around her shoulder, hoping to stave off any unwanted advances with his intimidating presence. Celeste reflexively flinched away, then she realized the purpose of the contact and reluctantly acceded. Most of the stares withered at the suggestion that the object of their desire had a giant wall of coarsened muscle for a boyfriend.

  As he sipped at his vodka, Hector eyed the patrons for a comparatively friendly face that might be coaxed into providing information for a few drinks. He spotted a couple of prospects, but before he could approach them, someone came up from behind and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  Hector shot the interloper a menacing glare. “What do you want?” he growled.

  “You're Hector One-Eye,” the said. “Ain't ya?”

  “Buzz off,” Hector said. “I'm busy.”

  “You don't fool me none. I'd recognize that ugly mug anywhere.” The man turned to address the crowd and called, “Hey folks, guess who's decided to grace us with his presence. It's an old friend of ours.”

  “Somebody shut that dumbass up,” someone said.

  “It's Hector One-Eye,” the man persisted.

  The droning bass line cut off with a squeal of static. In the ensuing silence, every pair of eyes turned to stare at the newcomers.

  “Seems you're quite the celebrity around here,” Celeste observed.

  A patron with the physique and body hair of a grizzly bear came forward and got in Hector's face. “I thought they executed all you Kurotora wipes,” he spat. “You've got a lot of guts coming back here. It's your fault that Spacy attack force blew this place all to hell.”

  “Hey, that wasn't on us,” Hector replied. “They were trailing that SLIC cell, and letting those wipes in was your own lads' bright idea.”

  “Shut your hole, you fucking traitor!”

  The bear aimed a truck sized fist at Hector's face. Hector swatted the blow aside, grabbed the bear behind the knees, and dumped him on his head. The other patrons fell upon him in a fury. He beat back the first few without any problems, but he saw that some of them were starting to draw knives and the bartender was reaching under the counter. Too occupied to go for his own gun, he hoped that Celeste would use the distraction he was providing to draw her sidearm and ventilate some heads.

  Before the brawl could turn ugly, a pair of constables appeared in the door with their pistols drawn, shouting, “What's going on in here?”

  The patrons continued their futile assault until one of the constables fired his weapon into the ceiling. The fighting stopped just as one of the patrons sailed through the air and landed on a table, sending drinks and plates flying. All eyes turned to face the constables.

  The smaller one, who made Hector think of a weasel, repeated, “I said, what the fuck is going on in here?”

  “You wouldn't believe who it is, officer.” The man who had first outed Hector thrust a finger at him. “It's Hector One-Eye.”

  “Hector? Our old friend from Kurotora?”

  The constable kept his pistol drawn while his partner drew a stun rod. The two of them elbowed their way through the crowd and stood just far enough away from Hector to get off a shot if he tried to lunge for them.

  “Well, Hector,” the weasel said. “What possessed you to come back here, huh? What, did you think we'd welcome you back with open arms?”

  “I don't see why not,” Hector replied. “I risked my neck to help deliver a product that's in pretty hot demand around here. I've got no grievances with anyone. I never did nothing to nobody in this shit hole.”

  The weasel gaped at Hector. “Can you believe this clown?” He exclaimed.

  His lunkhead partner slapped his stun rod on the counter, causing it to spark. “Never did nothing, my ass,” he sneered. “You were the ones who threatened us into helping you ambush those SLIC wipes. Thanks to that, half the constabulary got taken out, including some good friends of mine.”

  Hector raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, don't blame me for that. That was Shido's idea.”

  The lunkhead slapped his stun rod on the counter again. “Don't give me that crap! Gen Shido wouldn't wipe his own ass without getting your approval first.”

  “Look, we lost a lot of people in that battle too,” Hector said. “And unlike you guys, we were all taken prisoner and transferred into P.S.A. custody. You got off easy compared to us.”

  “Easy?” the lunkhead exclaimed. “Half the settlement gets blown up by Spacy, and you say we got off easy!”

  He started to lunge for Hector, but his partner held him back. “Let's take him down to the station,” the weasel said. “I imagine the chief will want to welcome him back personally. You frisk him for weapons. I'll keep you covered.”

  The bartender pulled a shotgun out from under the counter and aimed it at Hector. “So will I.”

  Celeste caught Hector's eye. Her expression asked if he wanted to shoot his way out. He knew she was fast enough that she might be able to draw her weapon and drop the constables and the bartender before they could pull their triggers, but it wasn't worth the risk. Even if they got out of the bar, they wouldn't be able to shoot their way through the entire town. He gave his head a tiny shake.

  “What about the girl?” one of the patrons demanded. “She came in with him.”

  “Well, sweet cheeks?” the weasel demanded. “What's your story?”

  “I—I'm just his girlfriend,” Celeste answered.

  “So you're in cahoots.” The constable gestured to his partner. “Pat her down too. We'll take them both to the station.”

  Hector raised his hands and let the lunkhead with the stun rod frisk him. Hector was hiding a lot of weapons under his desert cloak. The constable ended up with a rifle, pistol, spare magazines, survival knife, and smaller backup knife. Then he took another pistol, a third knife, and a few more magazines off Celeste.

  “Saris' Eyes, these two are loaded for bear,” the lunkhead exclaimed.

  “Definitely not legal to be waltzing around town with all this heat,” the weasel said. “Now we got all the pretext we need to put this clown and his little girlfriend on ice.”

  The constables cuffed Hector and Celeste and marched them several blocks to the police station, which from outside more closely resembled a dilapidated air raid shelter. Inside, aside from forcing their prisoners through a body scanner, the constables skipped the entire booking procedure. They bypassed the desk and prodded their prisoners down a hallway and around a corner until they arrived at a door labeled “Chief Blando's Office.”

  “Hey Chief,” the weaselly constable called, “we've got a prisoner we think you'll want to see.”

  “Then throw him in a cell and I'll take a look at his ugly mug later,” came the reply. “What are you bringing him to my office for?”

  “Trust me, Chief,” the weasel grinned, “you'll want to see this one right away.”

  “Por el amor de dios. Bring him in here, then.”

  They entered the office. It was the first piece of architecture Hector and Celeste had seen since entering Gemdrop that approximated comfort. The room was lit at a normal level of brightness, which made it look dazzling compared to the rest of the station. The ceiling was tiled and the floor was covered by a soft, lush carpet. Most notably, all of the walls were composed entirely of holographic material, although only one of the walls was currently functioning, and the settlement's unauthorized occupants lacked the knowledge and materials to fix the others. The one functional wall was set to display a sunset on a tropical beach.

  The chief, an unassuming man with a sharp jawline and thin mustache, sat behind a mahogany desk. He glanced up in annoyance when the constables entered his office with their prisoners, then his gaze alighted on Hector and his jaw dropped in amazement.

  “Well, well.” He propped
one foot on his other knee and leaned back in his chair. “You were right, this is quite a catch. Hector One-Eye. You'll get a bonus for this one, boys.”

  “Thank you, Chief,” the constable grinned.

  “Who's the girl?” Blando nodded at Celeste.

  “His new girlfriend. Haven't got her name yet.”

  Blando looked pityingly at Celeste. “Well, señorita, your bad taste in men has landed you in a heap of trouble.”

  “Tell me about it,” Celeste replied.

  “Look, Chief,” Hector interjected, “we didn't come here to cause any trouble. We're looking for an old friend who we heard holed up here to escape the pandemic. We just want to talk to him, and then we'll leave without a fuss.”

  “Oh, Hector.” Blando shook his head. “You really should know better than that. What in Saris' name made you think it was safe to show your face around here after what happened last time? You know, there were a lot of people who resented how you Kurotora cabrones were untouchable, always throwing your weight around.” His eyes narrowed. “Including me.”

  “OK, so there's more bad blood here than I expected,” Hector said. “I've figured that part out. But I can make it up to you.”

  “Oh really?” Blando cocked an eyebrow. “How do you propose to do that?”

  Hector turned to the lunkhead. “I've got some digital sheets in my shirt pocket. Take them out and give them to your boss.”

  “I don't take orders from you,” the lunkhead sneered.

  Hector looked at Blando.

  “Go ahead,” the chief said.

  The lunkhead took the sheets and tossed them on Blando's desk. The chief picked up the top one and thumbed the activation switch. A wall of encrypted text appeared on the sheet. Blando looked at Hector with a frown.

  “Is this supposed to mean anything to me?”

  “First, call off your goons,” Hector replied. “Let's talk to each other man to man.”

  Blando scoffed. “What, you want to get me alone in a room with you so you can bum rush me?”

  “With my hands cuffed behind my back?” Hector replied. “We've been through the body scanner. Your boys took all our weapons. You've got a gun. What am I going to do to you?” He grinned. “Or am I really such a badass that you're afraid I could lay you out like this?”

  Blando pursed his lips. “Out,” he dismissed his subordinates with a wave of his hand.

  “Chief, you're not going to let this wipe provoke you into being alone with him,” the weasel objected. “What if it's a trick?”

  Blando drew his gun and waved it over the desk. “Then it will be the stupidest—and last—thing he ever does. Now get lost.”

  “But—”

  “I said beat it.”

  Grumbling, the constables left the room. The chief laid his gun down on the desk in front of him and leaned forward.

  “Well? I'm listening. This had better be good. If you're wasting my time, I'll toss you in the dampest cell I've got and throw away the key.”

  “Put in 199375454,” Hector said.

  Blando picked up the sheet and entered the code. The encryption deactivated, and Blando read the exposed plaintext. As he read, his eyebrows ticked higher and higher. Finally, he looked up and gave Hector an inquiring stare.

  “This is an official government promissory.”

  “That it is,” Hector replied.

  Blando returned his gaze to the sheet. “A blanket pardon of all crimes. Full citizenship in the new government. Funds equivalent to 25,000 Union guilders, to be deposited in an account of the holder's choice upon presentation of this note.”

  He set down the note and looked up again. “If this sheet didn't have anti-counterfeit seals, I would think you were trying to bluff me. What is this new government it's talking about?”

  “SLIC and Spacy have teamed up,” Hector explained. “I'm working for them now. They're taking measures to fight the pandemic, and once all the fuss has died down, they plan to set up a new government. Hopefully it won't be as shitty as the last couple tries.”

  Blando picked up the sheet and scanned it again. “And these promissories guarantee the holder a clean start with the new order.”

  “But they're worthless unless I put in the proper activation code,” Hector said. “Which I won't do unless you cut the bullshit. And don't even think of trying to torture it out of me. If I go missing for too long, they'll send a team to find out what happened. Once they find out how you treated their representative, they'll completely vaporize this shit hole this time.”

  Blando dropped the sheet and considered Hector's words in silence. Finally, he asked, “Why do you have these?”

  “I'm on a mission,” Hector said. “These vouchers are, uh, incentive, just in case I need to secure some cooperation.”

  “Bribes.”

  “Call it whatever you want. As you can see, I don't have a whole lot of these things. But if you stop jerking us around and show us some cooperation, one of them can be yours.”

  “And that's why you wanted a private talk.” Another pause as Blando thought it over. Then, “What do you mean by cooperation?”

  “First,” Hector said, “drop these bullshit charges and give me your guarantee that my partner and I can walk around town without being harassed by your stooges.”

  “And? What else?”

  “Take us to Doc Fingers. I heard he holed up here to escape the pandemic.”

  Blando blinked. “That's all?”

  “That's all.”

  “I don't understand,” Blando said. “Why are your superiors so interested in a black market sawbones that they would issue you over 100,000 guilders worth of vouchers to make sure you meet him?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “...I suppose not.”

  Blando grabbed his gun, stood up, and walked around his desk to stand behind Hector.

  “That's a gun at your back,” he warned. “Try anything stupid, and you're dead.”

  He unfastened Hector's cuffs, then Celeste's. Once they were free, he went back to his desk, sat down, and pushed the voucher in Hector's direction, keeping his gun trained on him the entire time.

  “Now input the code.”

  “Yeah right,” Hector snorted. “When we're ready to leave, we'll meet you at the exit. Alone. Then I'll input the code. And give me the others back. You only get one.”

  Blando raised his free hand and held up two fingers.

  “Are you kidding me?” Hector said.

  Blando narrowed his eyes. “It seems you don't want to meet el doctor so badly after all.”

  “Fine,” Hector sighed. “You get two. Bandits, every last one of you.”

  Blando pocketed two of the vouchers. Hector retrieved the others and returned them to his shirt pocket.

  “You don't get your weapons back,” Blando said.

  “OK,” Hector said. “But then you're responsible for our safety for the duration of our visit. And just in case you get any stupid ideas, remember: I'm on official business. You mess with us, Spacy will come knocking on your door, and they won't be happy.”

  “I won't forget,” Blando replied. “And here's something for you to remember. If you try to sneak out of town after your business is finished, my men and I will hunt you down and stake you out for the ants to feast on your flesh.”

  He tore a corner off a sheet of paper, scribbled a note on it, and slid it across his desk. While Hector pocketed it, Blando pressed a button on his desk and called for his subordinates. Weasel and Lunkhead returned and looked at Hector and Celeste's unbound hands in confusion.

  “Our guests made a simple mistake with their illegal weapons,” Blando said. “I'm letting them off with a warning. We will keep the weapons, but Hector and his lady friend are free to explore the town. Spread the word. I don't want the boys giving them any trouble. Understood?”

  Weasel's expression was not happy. “Are you sure, boss?”

  “I'm surrounded by idiots who never understand an order
the first time it is given,” Blando exclaimed. “Yes, I am sure, pendejo.”

  “OK, Chief. You don't have to be rude about it.”

  The constables escorted Hector and Celeste out of the station. Once they were back on the street, Celeste turned to Hector in surprise.

  “I didn't know you had those on you.”

  “Now you know why I was so nervous about losing all our stuff in Al Hufayr,” Hector said.

  “Why didn't you just offer one of those vouchers to Kasim instead of taking a chance with that promise of aid?” she asked.

  “Think about it,” Hector said. “Those vouchers are good for one person. You think he could accept something like that in front of his men?”

  Hector took the note Chief Blando had given him and held it up to a flickering street light. It was an address.

  *

  About ten minutes later, Hector and Celeste found themselves in a dilapidated doctor's office underneath a dance club. Some things never changed.

  Dr. Whisker Fingers himself looked even worse than Hector remembered him: an oily man, with perpetual five o'clock shadow, thinning hair in a bad combover, and watery eyes like a frog. As soon as he saw Hector, he gave his hand a vigorous shake.

  “Well, Hector One-Eye,” he squeaked. “How many years has it been? Since you're still kicking, I suppose that means your unauthorized decommissioning worked out for you. Or have you come back for maintenance?”

  “It's for her.” Hector nodded at Celeste. “Think you can decommission a Chi strain?”

  Fingers sidled over to Celeste and gave her a scrutinizing stare. “Never done a Chi before,” he said. “But I'm certainly willing to try. I always love a new challenge.”

  “What does the procedure entail?” Celeste asked, struggling not to recoil.

  “Mostly a lot of specially prepared injections to deactivate the augmentations,” Fingers said. “Flocks of medicinal nanobots to revert your internal organs to normal function where Spacy monkeyed around with them; deactivate little pieces of machinery connected to your brain, nerves, and muscles; and, of course, to kill the nanobots already living inside of you. They've been known to fight back, so that part can get a little hairy. All in all, it takes over 40 different varieties of nanomachines injected in specific locations to get the job done.