"Never trust an elf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Charrette Robert N.)

22

"Hey, Kham. One thing you can't do is sell these wheels to Zasshu."

The raw eagerness in Rabo's voice brought Kham out of his funk. "Why's dat?"

"They're too, too sweet. That halfer wouldn't appreciate even half of what this baby has got in her, real cutting edge once you look under the hood. I'll bet half the circuits are prime Miltron. Gotta be, with what this baby's packing. Sure ain't Ares tech. Ain't no ID's on the boards, but this rig has gotta be Miltron make. The mesh is just too smooth to be a slapdash. But that halfer just ain't got appreciation; he'd probably break her up for parts."

"Safer that way," The Weeze pointed out. "You ain't got no soul, Weezer. This beauty deserves better than that."

"My butt says otherwise. This bucket could use better shocks," Ratstomper complained.

Rabo laughed her off. "You're just pissy 'cause you been sitting too long. The ride's fine up here."

But riding was something they couldn't do forever. "Don't get too comfortable up dere, Rabo. We gotta dump dis heap soon as da stone is safe."

"Aw, Kham, you don't understand what you're giving up. This baby's got armor, weapons, and lots of wrinkles I still ain't had time to figure out yet. Give me a week or two and I'll have her humming to my tune. You'll see. We got us a real street chariot here. Lone Star's Citymasters ain't gonna be a problem anymore."

The rigger's enthusiasm got old quickly. Couldn't Rabo see the problems that keeping the hijacked truck would cause? Kham decided to point out the most obvious of them. "Rabo, ya wanna be around when dose metal guys come ta repossess dis ting?"

"Who says they're gonna?" Rabo was uncowed. "They were rockin' and rollin' with the Andies last we seen them, and with no way 'a gettin' outta there without wheels or wings. We got their wheels, right? And they didn't have any wings."

"What if they did?" Ryan asked. "They were tough bastards."

"Drek, yeah," The Weeze agreed. "You see the way that one kept fighting even with his leg out? Howled like a gutted cat when that wage mage tried to fry him, but he was hosing down Andies soon as the light faded. Sure as flux leaves ya dripping drek. I wouldn't want to square orf with one of those guys."

"Ain't gonna have to," Rabo insisted. "I'm telling you they're history. This baby's ours now."

Ryan's face twisted into a worried grimace. "How can you be sure they don't have friends? We don't know who they were working for.''

"Yeah," Ratstomper echoed. Kham was beginning to think the two of them had become a team. "You don't think they was working for that other elf, do ya, Kham?"

"Drek! What you got for eyes, Stomper?" Rabo asked. "They weren't elves. Under all that chrome they were breeders."

"Go frag yourself, drekhead," Ratstomper snapped back. "Just 'cause they're breeders don't mean they weren't working for an elf. Ain't we worked for daisy-eaters ourselves? And we sure ain't no pointy-eared, flouncy elves."

That got the guys laughing, even Rabo. When things quieted down. The Weeze said, "You know, Stomper might be right. Maybe those two elves who went with us to the Salish had a falling out. Maybe we just got caught in the middle of a family spat."

"I don't think those cyberguys were working for an elf," Neko said quietly.

All the ork eyes in the back of the truck turned to him, including Kham's, who wanted to know how Neko had reached that conclusion. "Why not, cat-boy?"

"They didn't operate with any magic."

"No," Scatter said definitively. "They had no magic."

"Good point. Elves love dat stuff. Running a team witout it just ain't dere style. At least not fer Tir elves."

Ryan wasn't buying it. "So who says the ones after us was Tir elves?''

"One of 'em was," The Weeze said. "That Glas-gian twerp."

"Maybe so," Ryan agreed reluctantly. "But the cat-boy said the other was Australian. / don't know how Aussie elves operate. Do you, wisearse?"

"If Urdli had wanted the crystal, he would have taken it himself," Neko asserted.

His tone was confident and the others nodded in agreement, but Kham found himself wondering. How could Neko be so sure? As Kham recalled, he had first heard Neko identify the Dark One as Urdli to Dodger, who had not batted an eye, like they both knew what the catboy was talking about. Neko hadn't told Kham or the guys anything more than that the elf was an Australian, but the catboy obviously knew more about the dark-skinned elf. The catboy liked his secrets too much to be a real chummer. That was fine by Kham unless those secrets might be important to their survival. But was this the best time to try to pry them out? Before Kham could frame his question, The Weeze was asking one of her own.

"Well, if it ain't a spat between Mister Dark and Mister Light, why were those heavy metalboys after the rock?"

"The conclusion is obvious. Someone else knows about the crystal," Neko replied.

"Another elf?" Ryan asked tremulously. "What's with you? You got elves on the brain," Rabo said. "There's a lot more folks out there working angles besides elves."

Holding on to his idea, Ryan whined, "But how would anybody else know about the elf eternity magic?"

"We know," Kham pointed out. "So who do you think it is?" Ryan asked, turning on him. "Rabo said this rig was Miltron hardware.

Those are some scary boys. I don't want to frag with that corp."

"Now, I didn't say it was for sure Miltron," Rabo protested.

"But it could be," Ryan insisted. "They make mil-spec stuff. Drek, maybe they made those cyberguys. If they did, they could make more. Drek, we're gonna get hosed.''

"Calm down," Neko suggested. "Panic will not do us any good at all."

"Somebody's got to worry about it," Ryan said.

"We're all worried," Neko said quietly. "We're just not panicking."

Ryan cast frantic looks around the enclosed space. The other orks were almost as calm as the catboy. The kid looked to his shaman, but Scatter was absorbed in the crystal. Ryan turned to Kham. "What do you think, Kham. Is it Miltron?"

Kham shook his head. "Dunno."

"Well, what are we going to do?" The young ork looked about ready to freak, but Kham didn't have the answers to satisfy him. If Ryan couldn't handle not knowing who was out there looking for them, he wasn't cut out for shadowrunning. Best to find that out now, before the kid lost it during a run.

Ryan stared at him, chewing his lip. He fidgeted for a while, then said, "Harry would know what to do."

"Harry hates magic." Ratstomper turned to Scatter. "Present company excepted."

"Not excepted. Harry tolerates my presence because he understands my importance, not because he likes me or my magic. You are right, Ratstomper; Harry hates magic. He would not welcome you bringing this to him, but that does not mean we should not take the crystal to the Underground. We will be safer in the Underground. And perhaps Harry will have a solution to the problem Certainly he has survived where younger, more stubborn orks have perished ''

Kham knew the dig was meant to undermine him in front of the others, something he couldn't allow He whipped out an arm, caught a handful of Scatter's rags, and dragged her from her seat Of necessity, she collapsed to her knees in front of him "Dis ain't Harry's run," he growled "Now, I know ya got good ears, ratface And I know ya already heard me, but I'm gonna say it one more time anyway We ain't taking da rock back ta da Underground It's too dangerous " He let go and the rat shaman scrambled back to her seat They rode in silence for several minutes, Kham aware of the glances shooting back and forth among the orks He was also aware that the catboy avoided eye contact with any of them The Weeze was the first to break the silence

"Can't nde around forever, either " Neko stretched, drawing attention to himself "So we find a place to rest where we can hide the truck '' "Where9" Ratstomper slapped the bench seat "We been riding around for hours and nobody's come up with anything "

"Kham, you know that I am not familiar with Seattle's shadow world, but when I was conversing with Cog, he suggested that Mickey's Garage on Welbourne was a congenial establishment "

"No good," Rabo said "Mickey was hit by the Azzies the other night " "What9 When9"

' 'While we were humping our butts around the An-die dump "

"How da hell d'ya know dat?" Kham snapped

Rabo chuckled "I told you this baby was a sweetie. Her 'puter's got a little program that swipes realtime updates from Shadowland Headline News But, you know, I been thinking about it, and I remembered an abandoned warehouse out near the reservoir in Puy-allup. The scuzboys from Forever Tacoma been using it for tumbles with the Black Rains. It's nice and quiet when the boys and girls ain't playing."

Ratstomper guffawed. "Real sudden interest in finding a place to park, Rabo. Could it be your butt's been planted too long, too?"

"Maybe I just got sympathy for the weak-minded."

Ratstomper started to retort, but Kham cut her off.

"Anybody got outstanding problems wit da Eff-Tees or da Rains?" Nobody admitted to any, so Kham told Rabo, "All right, den, dat's where we're going."

Traffic made the trip long, though they encountered no trouble along the way. The Erf-Tees were in residence when they pulled up, so they had to negotiate. The big troll that was the gang's warlord took one look at Scatter and demanded she do some magic for them as the price of dossing down in the warehouse. "I will do this for you," Scatter said to Kham, clearly implying the need for repayment. She disappeared with the gangers for an hour or so, then came back grinning with self-satisfaction and bearing an armload of bags from the local Voodoo Chili franchise. Kham was too tired to care.

He shoveled in the stuff along with the rest of the guys, and watched them drop off one by one. The Eff-Tees were standing watch as part of the deal. Not the best security, but they'd do because nobody knew Kham and the guys were here. Before long, he too drifted off in a troubled sleep.

Some time later, he awoke. Something, a noise that didn't belong in the warehouse, had nudged him out of his dark dreams. Whatever he'd heard had stopped, but there were strange scents in the building. Befuddled by sleep, Kham couldn't place the vaguely familiar scents. Wary, he reached for his AK. Better armed than sorry.

A foot descended on his wrist, grinding it to the floor. The pain forced a snarl from him and he twisted over onto his side, but the effort only brought more pain as something swiped him across the temple. He fell back, the darkness lighting up with stars that weren't there. When he could focus again, Kham found himself staring at metal-armored legs. He looked up, a long, long way to the open maw of a tribarrel and further on to the tiny chrome-plated head beyond it. It was one of the metal guys. He'd seen their strength and knew that struggling wouldn't get him anywhere. He watched helplessly as a second metal man removed the AK. Once the weapon was out of Kham's reach, the first released him, gesturing for Kham to stand up.

There were only two of the cyberguys this time, but that was two too many, because once again they had the drop on Kham and the guys. In a matter of minutes all of them were clumped together under the metal men's guns. Kham noticed that the cyberguys kept most of their attention on Scatter, but he doubted the rough boys would have anything to worry about from the cringing rat shaman. He also didn't believe that the cyberguys' preoccupation would offer even a halfway decent chance to make a break. There was nothing to do but wait.

While one of their chrome-plated captors kept watch, the other went over to the control box on the front wall and opened one of the bay doors. A few seconds later a long silver limousine rolled in, followed by a trio of dark vans. Two of the four vehicles had to bump over the bay boundaries into the next one in order to fit; their companion vehicles and the orks' truck pretty much filled the first bay.

None of the vehicles carried any insignia, but the cleanliness and uniformity screamed corporate. The men and women who climbed out of the vans were as corporate as their vehicles: all wore identical, unmarked coveralls and flak vests and all carried identical weapons. As if those overchromed rough boys needed more goons as back-up. Kham gave his attention to the limo; that was where his future lay. The big shot inside would decide.

The car had halted with its front bumper nearly touching the gathered orks. Its interior was unknowable behind polarized glass. After a moment, however, its rear doors opened to reveal a dapper norm getting out from the near side. Kham had never seen this suit before, but there was no mistaking the uptown finery and the air of habitual and utter authority that clung to him. The suit smiled pleasantly at him, but Kham wasn't in the mood to smile back. He was looking at the guy getting out the car's other side, somebody who Kham suddenly realized wasn't lined up with the rest of his runners like he should have been. It was Neko the catboy, and still armed.

"Sticking wit your own, catboy?" Kham asked. Ratstomper growled in accompaniment to the question.

The suit answered before the catboy could open his mouth. "I suggest that you refrain from admonishing Mr. Noguchi. Your anger is misplaced. He is not my own, Kham. Pardon me if you find it overly familiar of me to address you by name without formal introduction, but you have done so much to aid my enterprise that I feel we should be friends. My name is Enterich, by the way."

"Mr. Enterich sponsored my trip here," Neko said. "Ya been working for him, huh? Shoulda known no breeder would be a real chummer. Just biz, huh? That why ya led 'em ta us." "I didn't-"

"Please do not view Mr. Noguchi as a Judas, Kham," Enterich said smoothly. "Though it is true that in pursuit of my principal's interests I arranged for his transport to this continent and saw that he was chosen for Glasgian and Urdli's run out to the Salish lands, I did not set him as a trap for you. Mr. Noguchi was placed as part of an insurance policy which, unfortunately, was necessary. Your involvement was, shall we say, unanticipated. Had not a certain impetuous personage sought to hide his deeds completely, you would have gone quietly on with your life without ever knowing that Mr. Noguchi and I had done business. As it was, our interests ran parallel for a time, but that time is over. Now it is time for our ways to part."

"So now ya take us out of da way." Enterich raised his eyebrows. "Why would you think that? You have been more help than hindrance." "Too bad."

Frowning, Enterich said, "Kham, I don't believe that you like me."

Bright boy. Kham spat onto the concrete floor. "Don't like elves dat hide dere faces."

Enterich's frown vanished, replaced by a faint, patronizing smile. His gold incisors sparkled. "An elf? Oh no, I'm not an elf."

"Didn't say ya were. Work fer one dough, doncha? Dat Aussie elf.''

"Urdli? Hardly. If you knew Urdli as I do, you would know that he would never countenance working with me." All right, so it wasn't the other elf. The catboy had really known what he was talking about when he said that somebody else knew about the rock. "Den who'dya work for? Miltron?"

"Still guessing? You should be careful about that. Someone might think you've been looking too deeply into the toys you've had on loan. Much as I like you, Kham, it would be unwise to tell you. You might find such knowledge unhealthy. A family man like you has to think about the future."

As if their situation wasn't unhealthy already. Enterich's rough boys had been willing to kill Kham and his guys merely for endangering their mission. Talk was the biggest danger to secrets-and it was clear that Enterich had plenty of those, and wanted to keep this crystal business as one of them. Dead men don't tell no tales; neither do dead orks. "Don't look like me and da guys got much of a future."

"You misunderstand. Your escapade with the truck was annoying, especially since the transport was a valuable asset, but it has also had some benefits. Even now the young elven prince is looking in all the wrong places, searching for you and ignoring my operatives. It is a minor advantage, but one that has already proved useful, and so you have my gratitude. In return, I would like to assure you that if you bow out now, peacefully, I will not hold your earlier interference against you and your friends. As one who abhors unnecessary violence, I will even go so far as to ensure that the hellions will never bother you again." "The what?"

"Ah, yes. You would not know." Smiling, Enterich indicated the metal men with a wave of his hand. "These gentlemen are hellions. Wondrous artifacts of technology, are they not? Elite volunteers-trained to perfection, heavily modified with state-of-the-art cy-berware, then, of course, trained some more. Freed from most of the constraints of the flesh, they are tireless, swift, and powerful. The ultimate blend of man and machine, near-perfect soldiers. I have great hopes for them, once the bugs are worked out of the system. The mechanical components confer a remarkable resistance to magic, but the necessarily limited organic component is sometimes prone to irrationality. But we have safeguards for that.

"You must excuse me, I tend to wax overly enthusiastic over new baubles. I'm sure my problems with new technologies are of no interest to you."

Enterich sketched a little bow, as if in apology. Meanwhile, one of his corporate goons had left the group checking out the hijacked truck and had come over to hand Enterich a slim silver chip-holder that she said was from the computer aboard the truck. Enterich gazed thoughtfully at the thing for a moment, then turned back to Kham.

"Ah, you see. You have been even more helpful than I had originally realized. I am sure I will find these files your decker-Chigger, wasn't it?-removed from the Andalusian matrix to be of interest. However, at the moment I have other matters to attend to and wish to conclude our business. Do I have your word that you will drop all interest in what the truck carries?"

Thoughts of what he'd be giving up raced through Kham's brain. There was nothing he could do about it right now. "If I don't give ya my word?"

"That would be unfortunate. For you. As I was saying, the hellions lost their companion in the Andalusian raid. As they blame you and your runners for the death of their comrade in arms, I fear that they would like to pay you and yours back in kind."

"We didn't do nuttin' ta get dere chummer geeked."

"They believe your complicity sufficient, and wish to make a response. Their small minds are filled with loyalty to their friends; misguided loyalty at times, but strong nonetheless. The streak of irrationality, I suppose."

Kham knew a threat when he heard one. And the fact that the catboy knew where his family was hiding meant that Enterich probably did, too. "Don't see anyway ta stop ya."

"A wise conclusion." Enterich held out one hand. "I do not wish us to part enemies, Kham."

Kham merely stared into the suit's face until the man dropped his hand. The Weeze muffled a snort.

"Very well," Enterich said, taking a credstick from his pocket and holding it out. "A business arrangement, then?"

Kham ignored that, too.

Uttering a soft sigh, Enterich dropped the credstick. It clinked and clattered on the hard floor.

"There is a small compensation there, along with a number you can contact if Glasgian continues to annoy you or any of your runners. Like you, I do not wish to see him prosper." Enterich returned to his limo and climbed in. One hand on the door handle, he seemed to have another thought. "You may believe that I have cheated you in this, but it is not so. The crystal is not precisely what you believe it to be, and though I cannot expect that you will take my word for it, you would be wise to do so. The crystal is not for you, or your kind, and you would do well to forget its existence. That would please me, and you would find that my good will can be helpful."

How could Kham forget the crystal, especially in trade for nebulous promises of nonexistent corporate good will? No matter. He knew better than to reveal his evaluation of the worth of Enterich's compensation. "Maybe I will."

"If you do not, I think that my principal will be less lenient than I have been." The suit shut the door and the limo started up. A

squad of the uniformed goons boarded the truck, while the rest of them scurried back to their vans. All but one of the vans pulled out with the limo and the truck. The hellions waited, covering the departure of their boss. Then they too took off in the last van, the sound of the vehicle's engine echoing hollowly off the warehouse walls.