Part 6 (1/2)

I exhaled my kidneys and went down to my knees like a sack of s.h.i.+t. I tried to breathe, experimentally, but it felt like a small rubber cork had been shoved down my throat.

”Mr. Cates,” Moje said, breathing hard. ”My name is Elias Moje, please don't ever forget it, because you have been brought to my attention. brought to my attention.”

Oh, f.u.c.k. I thought. I thought. This guy takes himself pretty f.u.c.king seriously. This guy takes himself pretty f.u.c.king seriously. At my alt.i.tude all I could see were his s.h.i.+ny, s.h.i.+ny boots. At my alt.i.tude all I could see were his s.h.i.+ny, s.h.i.+ny boots.

”I was inspired by certain parties to pull your file, Cates, and spent an afternoon reading it. You think you're world-cla.s.s. world-cla.s.s. You think you're a You think you're a bad man. bad man. Let me tell you something, Mr. Cates: You are not a Bad Man. Let me tell you something, Mr. Cates: You are not a Bad Man. I I am a Bad Man.” am a Bad Man.”

With a large rock lodged somewhere in my windpipe, I could only stare at his incredibly s.h.i.+ny shoes while dark red spots crowded in on my vision. I thought, s.h.i.+t, who's paying this son of a b.i.t.c.h to run me off this job? s.h.i.+t, who's paying this son of a b.i.t.c.h to run me off this job?

”I know that you're working for Marin, that f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k,” Moje hissed. ”I'm telling you to back off. Don't get into s.h.i.+t with the Electric Church, got it? I'm telling you to go away. Go hide somewhere.”

A pinhole opened in my throat and I sucked hoa.r.s.e, wheezing air through it. Moje nudged me roughly with his boot. ”Got me, s.h.i.+thead?”

I put my hands palms-down on the pavement and panted, the pinhole getting wider. ”Yeah, I got you.”

”I'll be watching you, Cates. Behave yourself.”

I watched his boots sc.r.a.pe their way off, and Moje receded into a smaller version of himself, and was then swallowed by the suddenly returned crowd. Gatz eventually helped me up, and I wiped spit off my chin and watched where Moje had been, burning with a shameful fury.

”He doesn't like you,” Gatz offered.

”Lots of f.u.c.king help you were,” I snapped. ”And it has nothing to do with me, f.u.c.k. That b.a.s.t.a.r.d's getting paid.”

It was pretty common for corporations or very rich private citizens to hire System Cops as bodyguards or what have you-officially illegal but the DIA winked at it, usually, if they even knew about it. Whoever'd paid Moje had obviously cheaped out and not gone full-price to just have me murdered. Or maybe they just thought I was your typical street rat, and easily scared. Or maybe they had had paid Moje to kill me, and he was just trying to rip them off, take their yen without breaking a sweat. Or maybe Moje was too terrified of d.i.c.k Marin to just kill me-who knew? And if that was the case, who would terrify Moje enough to even get him to go this far against the King Worm? Thinking this, it hit me: If Moje wasn't collecting a check from the Electric Church, I'd eat my f.u.c.king shoes. If the stupid motherf.u.c.ker thought his sad display of power would somehow make me less terrified of d.i.c.k Marin, the stupid motherf.u.c.ker was in for a lesson. paid Moje to kill me, and he was just trying to rip them off, take their yen without breaking a sweat. Or maybe Moje was too terrified of d.i.c.k Marin to just kill me-who knew? And if that was the case, who would terrify Moje enough to even get him to go this far against the King Worm? Thinking this, it hit me: If Moje wasn't collecting a check from the Electric Church, I'd eat my f.u.c.king shoes. If the stupid motherf.u.c.ker thought his sad display of power would somehow make me less terrified of d.i.c.k Marin, the stupid motherf.u.c.ker was in for a lesson.

We blended again, becoming just another pair of unhygienic a.s.sholes in the ma.s.s. Milton Tanner were living a straight life up in Old Chelsea, running what, from all reports, was a profitable store selling artistic little bric-a-brac to rich f.u.c.ks. I hadn't heard much about Milton Tanner, as they were before my time, and were over forty, to boot, adding a layer of unbelievability to it all. I didn't know anyone anyone over forty, except Pick. It was like Gatz and I were going to meet a leprechaun. over forty, except Pick. It was like Gatz and I were going to meet a leprechaun.

The streets thinned out as we headed uptown, and the empty sh.e.l.ls of buildings gave way to merely decrepit, sagging old stone structures that should have been blasted away and replaced with the s.h.i.+ning new metal ones, except that everything ground to a halt twenty years ago and never quite got started again. Even those s.h.i.+ning new buildings uptown were starting to look a little run-down.

The shop was called Tanner's, and the windows on the street were big and clear and unbroken, filled with the most ludicrous bulls.h.i.+t I'd ever seen. Little figurines, wooden jewelry boxes, c.r.a.p like that. I felt grimy and dirty, and self-conscious-we'd lost our camouflage and stood out against affluence, even the very edge of affluence. I looked at Gatz and he just shrugged raggedly. I squinted at him.

”When was the last time you ate, man?”

He shook his head. ”Food just makes me sick.”

Tanner's was warm and inviting, filled with all kinds of useless c.r.a.p. Furniture, lamps, knick-knacks, art pieces lined the walls and tables. There was barely any place to walk. I felt huge, shouldering my way through all the dusty s.h.i.+t, my eyes scanning the ceiling for the obvious security measures. Just as I was wondering where in f.u.c.k Milton and Tanner were, were, I turned a corner and stopped short, finding a tiny, craggy old woman blocking my way, arms akimbo. I turned a corner and stopped short, finding a tiny, craggy old woman blocking my way, arms akimbo.

”I hope, hope,” she snapped, ”that you didn't come in here thinking to be robbing us, kiddo. You're on the system, and you wouldn't get far.”

I smiled. ”I look that desperate, eh? To rob this f.u.c.king place?”

It was insulting. I was a Gunner. I worked for a living. I didn't have to steal.

She looked me over from foot to head. ”You look like a punk.”

That was insulting. I turned the smile off. ”I see the f.u.c.king cameras, Mother, and I see the field trips embedded in the walls. I didn't come here to rob you. Pick suggested your name for a job.” was insulting. I turned the smile off. ”I see the f.u.c.king cameras, Mother, and I see the field trips embedded in the walls. I didn't come here to rob you. Pick suggested your name for a job.”

She s.h.i.+fted her weight slightly and suddenly seemed quizzical, less p.i.s.sed off. She even smiled a little. ”A job? What the h.e.l.l do I want a job for? Do you have any idea how much money we make with this place?”

I looked around. ”This c.r.a.p sells?”

”It sure does, kid,” a voice came from behind. I turned, startled, and found the same woman standing behind me. She was even standing arms akimbo, and a brief moment of complete confusion shuddered through me. f.u.c.king twins.

”All right,” I said, nodding. ”Which one's Milton and which one's Tanner?”

The second woman shook her head. ”Doesn't matter.”

The first said, ”Come on in the office, then, sonny, and we'll talk business.”

The second added, ”Bring your scabby little friend, too.”

The first, ”I don't trust him out here alone. Sticky-”

The second, ”-fingers.”

”Don't worry,” I said, gesturing at Gatz, who was, indeed, examining some of the s.h.i.+t closely, as if it might profitably disappear into his skeletal hands. ”He's coming. I insist.”

The two women cackled simultaneously, freaking me out. ”He thinks-”

”-he's got-”

”-some pull, like it ain't us-”

”-that's got the guns on him!”

I scanned the room again, gritting my teeth against the embarra.s.sment of having to. I didn't see anything. I looked back at the first one. ”No f.u.c.king way.”

She sneered at me. ”Gunners.”

The back office was plush, carpeted, and climate-controlled, dominated by a huge wall-mounted Vid and two oversized wooden desks, ornately carved, pushed together head-to-head. The twins each took a seat and left Gatz and me standing. I glanced around, shrugged, and shoved a pile of papers off one of the desks with a flourish, hefting myself up onto it, facing them both simultaneously. I was about as uncomfortable as possible, but I wasn't about to tell them that.

They looked at the papers on the floor sourly. The second one said, ”Your boy's gonna clean that up before he leaves, yeah?”

I blinked. ”Probably not. And I'd like to see you make him. I'm here with a job offer. You interested, or are you making so much skag with this bulls.h.i.+t you're just enjoying breaking my b.a.l.l.s?”

The second one shrugged. ”Sonny, we like like breaking b.a.l.l.s.” breaking b.a.l.l.s.”

The first one nodded. ”We earned it.”

”Wasn't for Pick, we wouldn't even talk to you,” the first one said. ”He's the only f.u.c.ker we know of 'round here that's older older than than us. us.”

”How do you know Pick?” I asked, to be polite. Polite did wonders for the oldsters. Anyone who'd been an adult before Unification, a few yessirs yessirs and and noma'ams noma'ams could go a long way. could go a long way.

”School,” they said simultaneously.

”We worked with him on some government projects, back when things were still sane,” the first one continued.

”Genetics,” the second one added. ”It was amazing to have the chance to work with him.”