He shook his head, then his eyes widened to reflect the new light source in the alley. I turned and saw a woman step through a doorway, then immediately back away from the harsh light passing through it. Leaning back against the doorframe, she watched me warily.
I let the chain and the fat man fall. ‘You are the Little Dragon?’
She nodded almost casually. Though she wore the uniform of a Davion aerojock, I knew instantly that she was not a pilot. Not that she didn't fill out the uniform properly. The tall boots and leather jacket fit her perfectly. No, its was in her posture and in as simple a motion as her nod. Not even the Sternsnacht heavy pistol in her hip holster could taint it.
She moved with a sensuality that learning to kill robs from most people.
She gracefully waved me toward the doorway. ‘Colonel Kell, you will accompany me?’ Though framed as a question in her throaty whisper, I took it as a command. Passing through the door and into the small room beyond it, I caught a whiff of jasmine.
She closed the door and moved toward the center of the barren, white-washed room. She'd filled her right hand with the Sternsnacht, giving me a prey's-eye view of the pistol's muzzle. ‘You, Colonel, have been blundering all over Hakkinshi like a green Lieutenant looking for a way to spend leave-time. Either you are foolishly brave, or terminally stupid.’ She jerked her head toward alley. ‘Those four wanted you for the reward the Draconis Combine's Internal Security Forces are offering for your hide. Ten thousand ComStar bills could easily buy one passage from Akumashima.’
Averting my eyes from the gun barrel, I forced myself to chuckle. ‘Only ten thousand? Boy, the market's weak here on Murchison. On Mallory's World, I go for fifteen.’ I shook my head. Ten thousand ComStar bills was a small fortune. Even split four ways, it could finance relocation outside the slum known as Akumashima— Devil Island. ‘The price for mercenaries isn't what it used to be.’
Her brown eyes showed contempt. ‘Did I say ten thousand? That's for your brother. You, Leutenant-ColonelPatrick Kell, are only worth five thousand.’
I raised my hands. ‘Well. I'm the one. You've got me.’
Irritation flashed over her face like clouds before a storm. ‘Enough foolishness. You have 30 seconds to explain why you've returned to Murchison just 6 weeks after your 'Mech battalion got chased off by the 27th Dieron Regulars.’ She raised the gun in line with my right eye. ‘No nonsense, or I'm 5,000 C-bills richer.’
Looking down the Sternsnacht's long tunnel, I shuddered. ‘When we raided this world, we were under orders to stay until the Dragon delivered troops to kick us out. The Prince—the new one, Hanse Davion— wanted us to force Takashi Kurita to pull troops away from Mallory's World. We didn't expect to be here for three months, but that's what happened. One of my men, a kid really, named Kevin O'Dell shacked up with a girl from Akumashima. Her name is Hanako Aido.’
I swallowed hard. ‘The day after Kevin bought it back on Mallory's World, ComStar delivered a message from her saying that she was pregnant. O'Dell's father, an industrialist on Hamilton, back in the Lyran Commonwealth, wants his grandchild and the child's mother with him.’
She relaxed her arm. letting the gun's muzzle point up at the ceiling. ‘How much is he paying you?’
I stiffened, then brought up my head. ‘He's offering ten thousand a year to the girl's family, and seventy-five hundred to anyone who helps me out. Me? I'm doing this for Kevin.’
She watched me like a cat stalking a mouse, then nodded. ‘O.K. That's what I've heard. I can find Hanako—the Aido clan is large for a sawararenaifamily. I'll help you. Kell, but I have two rules.’ She tapped the squarish gold link in her nose. ‘First, no questions about this. And second, if you know what it is, don't get any ideas.’
I nodded. I did know what the renketsusignified, in theory, but I found the stories hard to believe. As I had heard it, the men and women wearing renketsuwere specially trained from their youth in the ways of love—much as a MechWarrior is trained to kill. Their education did not consist solely of skill in lovemaking, but included the study of many arts and sciences as well. The Kuritan way of life considered that an amorous companion should be more than just one who meets a partner's physical needs.
What was such an educated woman doing in the slums meant only for the untouchables, the sawararenai?
I held up my right hand. ‘Fine. This is your town. We play by your rules. You can call me Patrick.’
She hesitated, then nodded and bolstered her pistol. ‘I am the Little Dragon.’
I bowed to her in Kurita fashion. She returned the bow, then glanced at the door leading into the alley. ‘We better get you out of here. Those four you tangled with are scum of the scum, but when they jabber, more important people listen.’
I frowned. ‘ISF?’
The Little Dragon shrugged. ‘Even them. No, you angered some Yakuzawhen your lance used one ot their opium barges for a gunnery target.’
I smiled. ‘Can't they take a joke?’
She regarded me closely, raising an eyebrow. ‘I hope those attempts at humor are merely attempts to hide your nervousness, Patrick Kell. If not. your delusions of adequacy will get us both killed.’ She turned and exited through a smaller doorway leading deeper into the building.
Her warning had set up a resonance with my own doubts. I followed in silence.
After a long chase through the winding streets and black byways of Akumashima, the Little Dragon brought me into an apartment building through the rear entrance. She slipped her Sternsnacht from its holster, holding it at the ready as we crept stealthily up the dark stairway.
Aside from being sprayed everywhere with graffiti, the first door looked normal and might once have been considered a good place to live. The second floor, however, looked like it had been through a war. No doubt about It, the interior decorators had used flamethrowers and grenade launchers to remodel this level ot the building.
Deep in the shadows. I saw heavily seamed faces by the red glow of cigarettes and pipes. The sickly sweet odor of opium and a half-dozen other drugs gave me a shiver. Seeming to notice neither the smoke nor the ruined condition of the whole level, the Little Dragon picked her way across the building's second story. I stared ahead at her booted feet, matching my footsteps to hers, trying not to look at the wretches scattered over the soiled tatami.
From there, the Little Dragon pushed open a door that led to another stairwell. I looked over at her, but she waved me on up the stairs without a word. Occasionally casting a glance behind me just in case someone decided to follow from the second level, I trailed her.
Two more flights up. on the building's top level, we left the stairs and walked down a fairly clean corridor. Most of the doors stood open, giving me a good look at the empty, stripped apartments. Anything of value had long since been stolen. Indeed, in a few places, the plaster had been peeled back so that the wooden slats could be removed and used for fire fuel.
Finally, the Little Dragon stopped before a heavy, steel-sheathed door. She flipped open a small box set into the wall, and punched out a series of electronic notes, the code to unlock her door. She opened it. then waved me inside.
After my tour through the building's lower reaches, I expected to see some cold, dismal room with little more than a nest of filthy rags in the corner for bedding. Instead, a beautiful oasis seemed to appear before my eyes, and I knew it was easily the match of a luxury suite in any of the Hakkinshi's tallest towers.
Standing at the doorway and looking down into the sunken living room, I had no doubt that she had designed and furnished the apartment herself. Hand-woven rugs of intricate design—obviously created on the Muslim-dominated worlds of the Azami— covered almost all of the polished wooden floors. Delicate ricepaper paintings graced the walls, the best of which hung over the low dining table in the far left corner. A futon couch and an assortment of large cushions held the center of the room.