*
A small man, simply dressed, looks up from a table and then glances back at a map unrolled in front of him. A tumbler and a bottle hold it flat at the edges. Both are filled with water. A quick pass of his hand hides whatever it is he doesn’t want us to see.
‘You’re travelling alone?’
‘Yes,’ Anton says.
‘The roads are dangerous. The whole world is dangerous these days.’
Sounds scripted to me. As if it is phrase and counter phrase. If it is, he’s disappointed because Anton stays silent.
The small man gives Anton a steady stare and then nods to himself. His jacket is black and looks expensive to me. He’s high clan. Maybe even a trade lord, to judge from the quality of the ring on his finger.
Not long ago I’d have missed that clue.
He wears a shoulder holster, and has a coat hung over the back of his chair. Standing, he leans across the table and offers his hand to Anton.
The two men shake.
‘Your bodyguard?’ he asks.
Anton nods and I take my position by the wall.
The stranger watches me check the door and the windows to confirm I have enough space to act if necessary and smiles approvingly. Makes me wonder exactly what’s going on around here.
‘I’m Senator Cos.’
‘Anton Tezuka. Travelling to the city.’
‘Tezuka. Isn’t that . . .’ Senator Cos hesitates, on the edge of saying something careless. Like, Aren’t you meant to be in exile? Unless he’s simply worried about being rude.
Reaching for the water bottle, he fills a second tumbler. The senator is careful to take a sip from his own first.’ To a safe journey.’
‘And safe roads,’ Anton answers. ‘For everyone.’
‘You’re . . .?’
‘My wife,’ says Anton, ‘is Lady Debro Wildeside.’
He finishes the water in a single gulp and replaces the tumbler on the table. Then he bows slightly, looking surprised when I step forward to open the door.
‘You could travel with us,’ the senator says. ‘In fact, you would be welcome.’
Anton considers this. ‘I have business in Farlight,’ he says finally, ‘that makes it better for me to travel alone.’
‘Then travel safely,’ Senator Cos says.
‘And you,’ says Anton, shutting the door behind him.
We make it halfway down the darkened stairs before I round on Anton. ‘You want to tell me what the fuck that was about? All the safe journey crap?’
Glancing behind him, Anton checks the door is shut, and I let him steer me to a window. A flare of flame lights the face of the sergeant we met earlier. He’s lighting another cigarillo and staring at our window. It’s as dark in here as it is out there. So I doubt if he sees anything.
The noise from the bar is muted. As if the senator’s men are aware we’ve halted on the stairs and are worried we might be listening.
‘Senator Cos is a doubter . . .’
I get that bit. The water, the simple black jacket. They’re clues.
Anton scowls when I say this. ‘He’s rich,’ he says. ‘And he’s close to the Jaxx. He’s been their banker. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.’
‘About what?’
‘Later,’ he says. ‘Let’s talk about it later.’
‘Don’t leave it too long.’
All this sloping around in disguise is getting to me.
A dozen faces stare at us and then slide away. I’m not sure what the senator told his men before we went up, but a room is ours. Anton asks me which watch I want to take. Way I’m feeling, the answer’s easy . . .
‘I’ll take them all.’
Sleep is fine, but I need less than others and I want to clear my head. Grabbing a bottle of beer from the bar to help that process, I button my coat against the wind and head for the door.
‘Sir,’ says the owner.
He lets go my arm the moment he sees my face.
‘You don’t need to keep watch. I lock the courtyard every night and your bikes will be safe . . .’
‘Bring me food,’ I say. ‘In about two hours.’
My order means he’ll have to stay awake or risk my anger. And he’s seen what I did to the man who didn’t open his door.
‘On second thoughts, send her.’
He follows my gaze to a girl collecting plates by the far wall. Large hips and full breasts, with dirty blonde hair tied back into a sloppy ponytail. She’s doing a good job of avoiding sly hands and slyer comments.
‘Your daughter?’
‘My wife’s niece.’
Thought he was taking it better than expected.
‘Stew,’ he says. ‘I’m afraid that’s what we’ve got.’
‘Of course it is.’ It’s all anywhere like this ever has.
I’ve eaten stew on three different planets, and in five different cities and half a dozen scuzzy little garrison towns, and it’s always that week’s leftovers, diced small and boiled to a tasteless pulp that even chillies do little to improve.
‘And send out more beer at the same time.’
He nods, glances at me and goes to tell his niece the bad news.
Leona heads inside with my warning in her ears. She’s ex-militia if anyone asks. Invalided out. I’m her boss and Anton’s my boss. That’s all she’s allowed to say. No one in that bar is really going to believe her.
But then we don’t believe they’re mercenaries either.
Senator Cos’s own little private army, is my guess. This prompts several questions. Like why does he think he needs an army firstly? And what is it Anton’s not telling me?
The Icefelds are where we left them.
Sergeant Leona’s armed all their security systems. So I stand these down and go over each bike. No new bugs that I can see. No little transponders telling anyone where we are. The clips are full. Our batteries are charged. The gyros work perfectly. We’ve even got the right pressure in the tyres.
‘Haven’t seen one of those for a while,’ says a voice. ‘Didn’t know that model was still in service.’ Sergeant Toro drops to a crouch beside me, and runs his hands over a fusion unit.
‘They’re not.’
‘Where did you get them?’
‘Stole them.’
He looks at me. ‘You serious?’
‘Yeah. Completely.’
‘And their owners didn’t object?’
‘Hard to object with your neck broken.’
Leaning close, I watch him trace Anton’s optic to the S amp;Ps, and smile. When I sit back on my heels, it’s to discover he’s offering me another cigarillo.
‘Thanks.’
‘No problem. You happy in your job?’
‘Why . . . You offering me another?’
Maybe he hears something in my voice because his face stills. ‘It’s possible . . . I have friends looking for . . . experienced operators.’
‘You mean assassins?’
‘I mean anyone who’s seen real combat.’ He sees me grin and nods. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I know. We’ve both seen that. So, what do you think?’
‘Already got a job,’ I tell him.
He jerks his thumb over his shoulder towards the bar.’ Babysitting some trade lord in disguise?’
‘There are worse ways to earn a living.’
‘True enough,’ he says. ‘And there are better ones.’
Not sure what he’s got me pegged as. But it’s got to be more than Legion. You can pick ex-Legion up cheap, pretty much anywhere.
‘Why isn’t your boss flying anyway?’
Most high clans own copters. And you could make Wildeside to Farlight in five hours using a high-speed hover. Of course, you’d need decent roads to do that. As for a ramjet . . . Probably take you longer to buckle in than it would to make the trip.
‘He’s being . . . discreet.’
The sergeant smiles at my choice of words. ‘Thought it was something like that.’
Chapter 15
It is so cold that the innkeeper’s niece nods when I offer her my coat. She’s carrying a plate, plus a fresh bottle of beer. The plate has a lump of goat’s cheese, a slice of bread and a dollop of chilli jam.
‘What happened to the stew?’
Her scowl says this is better; then she realizes I’m teasing her and blushes in the light of the lamp she’s carrying.
‘Put that out.’