I spat a glob of red phlegm onto the floor and stared down at it, still doubled over, gasping shallowly. I was slowly getting myself back under control. I put my gun on him again. “You can say what you want, Wa, but we had a deal, you and me. I should shoot you in the belly. Shoot you in the fucking belly and leave you here to bleed and be eaten. To feel what she felt. And you want me to trust you?”
“You have a choice?” He laughed, lowering his hands with a glance at Lukens. “My dear, feel free to shoot me if I make any false moves. That will be our deal.”
She nodded and spat on the floor as if chewing an invisible wad of smoke. “All right.”
He looked back at me. “You’re half the man you were yesterday, Avery, and sledding downhill. You have one System Pig here who is not taking your orders, but we’ll list her as an asset on the assumption that since she hasn’t killed you yet, she probably won’t, and may even kill your enemies in the meantime. You-what the hell is your name?”
Marko blinked. “Ezekiel Marko,” he said, sounding confused.
“Ezekiel?” Belling repeated wonderingly. “Well, Zeke, my friend, what are you bringing to the operation?”
“Uh,” Marko frowned in thought for a second, then held up his little device. “Uh, this.”
“Ah,” Belling said with a sour twist of distaste. “A Techie. My favorite people. Very well; I assume you are skilled?”
Marko nodded slowly. “Uh, according to my OFS of you, you’re fucking Cainnic Orel.”
Belling waved him aside. “Optical facial scans are notoriously unreliable,” he said, “and the database you are pulling from is an official SSF one, yes? Years out of date, I assure you.” He looked back at me. Somehow he’d filled up again, swelling until he was Wa Belling again, bouncing on his feet and speaking in that subtle brogue I knew so well, maybe the last living member of Canny Orel’s old Murder Incorporated. “You have no choice, Avery. You and I, even at half speed, can take down any mark, I think. And we have more resources here than we’ve had at low times in both our careers.”
This was true. When I was young, I’d pulled off some high-profile hits, just me and my gun. It took years of crawling the streets to develop contacts, to get in with someone like Pickering for information, to cultivate the reputation that got you loans, information, extra hands when needed. I pulled myself upright and pushed my gun into my pocket. “All right, Belling. You’re right: no choice.” I needed his gun, and I wasn’t sure I’d succeed if I tried to kill him. If I put him on the run-well, fuck, I didn’t need Wa Belling in the fucking shadows in addition to all my other woes. I held out my hand. “We have a deal. But only until Kieth is dead. After that I plan to make you suffer.”
He eyed my hand warily. “You’re a man of your word, Avery,” he said, stepping forward, “and I am not. But for what it’s worth, I promise this: until we’re done here, you can trust me absolutely. As for suffering, I expected nothing less. We’re each making deals with the devil.”
I almost believed him. You’re a man of your word, I repeated to myself and thought of Kieth, upstairs. Shit, I thought, you’re thinking of last week’s Avery Cates. Hating him, I pumped his hand.
I took a slow, deeper breath, taking my time with it in order to avoid triggering more coughing. “All right, what intel do you have?”
“Little man,” Belling said over his shoulder to Marko, “do you have floor plans of this complex on that delightful little device?”
Marko nodded, rushing forward. “I do!” he said briskly, thrusting the screen toward Belling. “I have floor plans, wiring networks, plumbing, air ducts-none big enough for a person to crawl through, however.” He was sweating lightly, whether from excitement or the first stages of his own nano invasion it was hard to tell. Based on the way he was looking up at Belling, as if he’d found god, I decided it was excitement.
Belling nodded, turning to me. “I know where they’re holding Kieth, and I know the basic deployment of the Mutant Freak’s fellow Monks. We know their strength and resources, Avery.”
“Do we know their strength? Isn’t Kev up there making new Monks right now?”
Belling blinked. “Making Monks? No, not exactly.”
I frowned. “Then why a hospital complex? He wants Monks to take over once we’re all dead, Belling. That’s the whole idea.”
Belling shook his head. “You’re behind the curve as usual, Avery,” he said in a fatherly tone that made me want to split his lip. “Monks were five years ago. You think that was Kev Gatz designing this nanotechnology? Kev Gatz? I’ve seen melons with more mental energy than that asshole. This kind of tech comes from a genius, Avery. Someone with a pre-Unification degree.” He raised an eyebrow. “You must have heard Mr. Gatz talk about Him, yes? The voice in his head? Didn’t you wonder who that was?”
“Holy fucking shit,” Marko said suddenly, sucking in breath. “You’re talking about Squalor. You’re talking about Dennis Squalor.”
Belling’s eyes stayed on me, but he nodded. “Avery, Kev’s got Squalor in his ear, telling him what to do, how to do it. Monks? Squalor’s lost his manufacturing base. His corporeal body. His political clout. He’s personally keeping Kev Gatz from flying apart at the seams, from what I can tell. The rest of the Monks, Kev’s followers, look like the rarities who survived the destruction of the suppression signal-strong minds, I’d guess. Crazy, sure, but crazy in a focused way.”
I shook my head. Something was roaring inside it, making it hard to think. This shit wasn’t fair. “I destroyed Squalor,” I said slowly.
“Avery,” Belling replied, “Squalor was a digitized intelligence. You destroyed his server.” He fluttered his smooth, un-scarred hands in the air. “He’s in the air. And he’s looking for a way to rebuild. Monks were yesterday’s tech. The way Mr. Kieth tells it, what Squalor’s doing now is, in Techiespeak, utilizing the available resources.”
I turned, keeping my eyes on Belling, and grabbed Marko by the collar, pulling him in close. “What the fuck,” I said slowly, “does that mean?”
Marko swallowed, his wide eyes on me, hands limp at his sides. I felt I could have lifted him off the floor. “I think it means all these dead people aren’t going to stay dead.”
Belling smiled and shaped one hand into a gun, poking it at us. “Bingo.”
XXXIV
Day Ten: I am Very Impressed, Mr. Belling
I followed Belling as he enjoyed his voice some more. “Come along, Americans, we’ve got some deep shit to wade through before we even get to kill the incredibly annoying Mr. Kieth.” He whirled and walked backward a few steps, looking almost fucking ebullient. Americans-Belling was old, and he remembered the world before Unification. Who knew where the fuck he’d been born, but I hated that he knew more than me, that he’d known the world before Unification. I hated Wa Belling. I’d never liked the man but I’d respected him. Now I could hardly wait to kill him, the one person, maybe, in this whole mess who fucking deserved it.
Deserved. I pictured Kieth, just trying like hell to stay alive. I didn’t doubt he’d work like a demon to reverse all this if given half the chance, but there didn’t seem any choice: if it took him a week to do it, there might not be anyone left to save. It wasn’t fucking fair, and it was making me angrier every time I thought about it. I’d never liked Kieth, either, but we’d worked together for years, and I knew the Techie had never screwed me on purpose. He didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve to have to do this.