Extensis Vitae: The Shattered Land Page 7

  “Step forward so he can get a good look at you in the camera.” She pressed against the wall to give him space at the bottom. “This is my companion, Michael Reznik. He is here seeking your services.”

  Reznik squeezed in next to Rin and looked up at the camera. After a moment the sound of steel bars retracting from the door could be heard. The door swung open on squeaky hinges. They stepped inside a small, dimly lit concrete room. Reznik noted a blinking light mounted to some hardware in the corner. He took a closer look and saw it was some type of autocannon with a remote tracking sensor, aimed at the doorway.

  The door swung shut with a resounding boom, nearly deafening in the tiny space. The locking mechanism reengaged, and a bank of LED lights flared on. With a clanking sound, a gate slid open in front of them to reveal a small elevator. The two of them stepped inside, and the gate closed. The elevator lurched alarmingly at first, but then it smoothly picked up speed and descended.

  When the elevator stopped and the cage door rose, they saw another room much like the one up top, but the lower one contained exposed ductwork and pipes running down the ceiling of a short corridor to a T intersection. A humanoid robot stood in front of them. The robot was a faded yellow color and stood about six feet tall. It had a rectangular head with two optical sensors resembling eyes and a speaker where the mouth would be. “SB-17” was stenciled on its torso.

  “Konnichiwa, Lady Takahashi,” the robot said in a genteel voice and bowed, a mannerism that was strangely human, Reznik thought. “It has been too long since you’ve honored me with your visit.”

  “Circumstances have kept me away, I’m afraid,” Rin replied, bowing politely in return. “Thank you for receiving us.”

  “My pleasure.” The robot turned to Reznik. “Greetings, Mr. Reznik. I am Ichiro Akiyama. Please feel free to address me as Ichiro if you prefer. The fact that Ms. Takahashi vouches for you speaks volumes of your character.”

  “Thank you, Ichiro… and Rin,” he added. “It would be fine if you just called me Reznik. That’s what everyone else calls me.” He looked over questioningly at Rin. This hacker is a robot? he wondered in surprise.

  Ichiro obviously interpreted his unasked question. “Unfortunately, I am infirm and thus must use this robotic form to greet my guests. Please, follow me to the living quarters where you can set down your gear and relax.” Ichiro spun around and walked down the corridor to the T intersection. Reznik and Rin fell in behind, the grated floor vibrating from the robot’s heavy clanking tread. Reznik noticed the robot’s feet were rectangular in shape and realized it must have made the tracks outside the silo.

  They turned at the intersection and continued down the corridor for another dozen yards until they entered a crew galley. A kitchen area lay to the right, with a table and chairs that could seat a half-dozen people in the center of the room. To the left were placed a cozy-looking sofa and easy chair. A small room just beyond the living space contained several bunks. A closed hatch was on the opposite side of the room.

  “Feel free to stow your gear and make yourselves comfortable. Would you care for tea or coffee?”

  Reznik asked for coffee, and it struck him as bizarre to be ordering coffee from a robot in an old missile silo beneath the wasteland. Ichiro bustled about the kitchen while he and Rin dropped their packs and took a seat at the table. Just then, he remembered they hadn’t brought their items for barter in from the bikes. When he mentioned it to Rin, Ichiro waved him off and told him he’d have another robot retrieve them.

  The delicious aroma of the coffee made Reznik’s mouth water. Moments later, Ichiro served Reznik his piping hot cup while Rin had a cup of tea. The coffee proved to taste as delicious as it smelled.

  The clanking sound of a heavy tread on the grated floor drew Reznik’s attention. He glanced down the corridor just in time to see a much larger robot turn the corner, heading toward the elevator. The elevator groaned in protest as it carried the robot’s bulk to the surface where it could retrieve their gear.

  Ichiro stood in front of them as they savored their beverages. “So, tell me how things are on the surface.”

  ***

  “You are telling me that everyone else is dead? Except you, conveniently enough.” The Overseer turned his back on Mason and paced the room, hands clasped behind his back. “What happened to Haze? And all of that money?” He spun around and glared at Mason angrily.

  The self-proclaimed Overseer of Skin City was an up-jumped thug, from the tales Mason had heard on the street. But the man was as cunning as he was ruthless since he had managed to climb over the backs of his slain enemies to become king of the mountain in Skin City. Mason made it a point to never underestimate him. The man had cold blue eyes and thin lips set in a lined face. His dark hair was styled in a long comb-over, and he wore vanity eyeglasses, a retro fashion that seemed to be coming back in style. Everybody had their eyes either surgically corrected or replaced with optic implants, so eyeglasses were just accessories. The Overseer seemed to like the large, blocky style. He wore a dark, old-fashioned plaid suit with a necktie. He looked much more respectable than his brother had, but there had been a definite resemblance between them if one knew to look for it. Haze had been all bluster and show compared to his older brother, but Mason knew the Overseer was the more dangerous of the two.

  Mason tried to put on his best apologetic look. “Haze is dead, from what I was told. And the money had been divvied up before we returned, so I assume the ambushers took the share for the rest of the crew,” Mason lied. He had the whole take hidden in a safe location—enough to fund him for a long time.

  “Did you see the bodies?”

  “No. We were immediately ambushed upon entering the complex. Haze’s pet ninja turned on him, along with some military-spec skin working for the Colonies.”

  “That stupid motherfucker, trusting that Jap bitch like that.” The Overseer paced in silence for a moment, face blank. “I guess he ended up getting what he deserved. Why did you come back here?” The Overseer’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “I wanted to make sure I keep on good terms with my employer since I’m out of work at the moment. I also wanted to pass on the news in case you wanted to deal with it. I have a photo of the individual if you are interested in finding him.” He sent a private message to the Overseer with the frame grab he had taken from his visual recording of the ambush.

  “Nobody fucks with my brother but me. I might have despised that annoying asshole, but he was still my brother, and this is an insult that cannot be left unanswered.” The Overseer accepted the message, and his eyes lost focus for a moment as he accessed the image.

  He looked back at Mason. “Well done. This colonist is a dead man if he is foolish enough to show his face around here. Both him and that Takahashi bitch. I’ll circulate their pics and post a bounty on both their heads. One million chips on each of their heads, payable to whoever brings them to me alive or brings indisputable proof of their death. Every bounty hunter crossing the wasteland will be looking for them. I don’t have time to root out rats in their underground burrows, but if they pop up, someone will blow their heads off.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Mason replied. He had no desire to cross either Rin or the colonist soldier again. They were both highly specced-out skins that had basically been fighting in self-defense: Rin had been taking advantage of an opportunity to free herself of Haze’s control, and the colonist soldier had been defending the Colonies. He had nothing personal against them for that. Hell, I probably would have pulled an ambush also if I had been in their position. “I’ll keep my eyes open if I come across any trace of them, but I’m heading back east. I hear there might be some work out there filling rebels full of lead.” That wasn’t quite the truth of it, but he dared not say more here. The Overseer had made a power play a couple years back and was now in bed with Thorne Industries. Skin City, which had been neutral ground for decades, was no longer neutral. It might claim to be, but if anyone actually believe
d that, they were a fool.

  Chapter 8

  “Yes, it is within my power to do that which you ask,” Ichiro said. “I hate to sound like an awful host, but I need to ask of you a favor first. If you can fulfill my request, I will help you out, and we will be even.”

  “What’s this favor?” Reznik asked.

  “I have an assistant who has gone missing. Her name is Anna, and she normally makes the journey from Planter’s Ridge to bring supplies every seven to ten days, but this time she hasn’t come. It’s been two weeks now, she hasn’t contacted me, and I can’t reach her on Datalink either. I’m afraid that something unfortunate might have befallen her.” The robot’s face was blank, but Reznik imagined worry in the voice. Perhaps that is actual worry since a human is controlling it, he thought.

  “I would do this for you and call it a fair trade, but I only have four and a half days remaining before the expiration date hits,” he said. “I don’t know how far this Planter’s Ridge is and whether I will need to search beyond that or not for this woman.”

  “Planter’s Ridge is seventy-eight miles from this location, so it shouldn’t take that long. If she is wounded or killed, then we will know right away. If it takes more than that, then we can plan accordingly.”

  “Okay… how will we decide what needs to be done? Can I contact you through the Datalink?”

  “I will send the Ares 13 to accompany you. If there is danger, it will prove useful.”

  “Ares 13?” Reznik heard the elevator clang to a stop down the corridor. The heavy tread of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

  “Yes, it approaches.”

  A moment later, the large robot Reznik had glimpsed earlier entered the room. It had to hunch down to make it through the corridors, he noted. When it stepped into the living quarters, it stood up to its seven-foot height and unrolled its shoulders with a whine of servos. The powerful bot had a broad, heavily armored carapace and a flat head with a sensor array. Its two primary arms had massive autocannons mounted to them. It set a box of fuel cells and batteries on the table, and its hands retracted into its arms. With a loud clack, the autocannons snapped into position where its hands had been a second earlier.

  “Nice,” was all Reznik could think to say.

  “Take the time to think over the offer, and let me know. There is a shower with hot water and bunks if you wish to rest,” Ichiro said. He walked over to a cabinet and rummaged around then handed Reznik and Rin a blanket and towel for each of them.

  “A hot shower sounds pretty damn good right about now,” Reznik admitted.

  Ichiro bowed and stepped away. “Lady Takahashi, if I could trouble you for your assistance for a moment…”

  Rin dropped the blanket and towel on one of the bunks and followed the robot. The door leading off the crew galley slid open, and they entered. Reznik caught a quick glimpse of a hospital bed and numerous tubes and wires attached to a frail, wasted figure beneath the sheets before the door closed.

  Where was I? Ah yes… hot shower. Reznik smiled.

  ***

  The slaver convoy drove most of the day, and Marcus had fallen into a miserable slumber. He woke up when the truck lurched to a stop in a dramatic shrieking of brakes and a cloud of dust.

  The night before, he had been too on edge to sleep, expecting to get beaten or killed or raped by the slavers. Fortunately, the killing and raping hadn’t happened, at least not to the two of them.

  The only tense moment had come when the drunken Surfer and Grint had attempted to drag two of the female slaves out of the trailer. The women had initially resisted, but after being slapped around a few times, they finally acquiesced. Marcus tried to intervene until the silent Grint calmly pulled out a pistol and cracked Marcus in the temple with the butt of the gun. Marcus dropped groggily to the floor, dimly aware of Liu cursing at the two men.

  “Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” snapped the little weasely man guarding the trailer. Marcus hadn’t seen him enter the trailer. “You gonna do something about it? Yeah, I didn’t think so.” The little man put an exclamation point on his statement by stomping on Liu’s broken ankle. Liu howled in pain and kicked at the man, who skipped out of the way. The weasel-faced man scowled and pulled out something that looked like a cattle prod.

  “What’s all the goddamn noise?” Pokornoy’s mug loomed in the door of the trailer. His appearance put an end to any further drama. Marcus saw that the big man’s hand was caressing the hilt of the machete on his belt as if hoping a slave would stand up to him so he could gut someone like a fish.

  “Nothin’, boss,” the weasel-faced man mumbled, giving a murderous glare at Liu. Surfer mumbled something under his breath as well.

  “If you’re gonna take those bitches, then get them the fuck outta there. You’ve got an hour… don’t make me regret letting you take them.”

  Surfer and Grint redoubled their efforts to drag the women out of the trailer. The two women looked at Pokornoy and apparently thought better about resisting further.

  Once Pokornoy’s men all left the trailer, the big man watched Marcus and Liu for a moment, sucking at his teeth. “You two are gonna be a pain in my ass, aren’t you?” There was an eager gleam in his eye as though he was just looking for an excuse to use his machete on them.

  “No, not at all,” Liu said quickly. Marcus shook his head.

  “We’ll see about that,” was all Pokornoy said. He slammed the door shut and banged the bolt into position.

  After everything quieted down, Liu passed out, and Marcus let him get what rest he could. His head ached, and when he touched his temple, his hand came away sticky with blood.

  Their fellow slaves had watched the newcomers with interest for a short time, but eventually ignored their presence. They were obviously used to newcomers arriving and trying to resist their captors at first until they got beat down. Marcus had estimated the number at thirty-five or forty, but he couldn’t be sure, as some of the figures didn’t move and could have been dead.

  “Planter’s Ridge has been hit! It’s ripe for a takedown!” someone was currently shouting nearby.

  Marcus squinted through the slats in the side of the cattle truck but couldn’t see who was speaking. His head pounded from the sweltering heat and stink of the trailer combined with dehydration and the blow to the head from the night before.

  Pokornoy, who Marcus took to be the leader of this group of slavers, walked past the cattle truck to the front of the convoy where he could speak with the scouts.

  “Don’t know who hit it,” the scout was saying. “Talked to a couple traders who said the same thing. The townspeople are claiming it was monsters that came in the night several days ago or some shit. Most of their men are dead, and the womenfolk were carried off by these so-called monsters.”

  “Sounds like too good of an opportunity to pass up,” came another voice. “What do you think, Pokornoy? It’s only about forty miles from here.”

  “Let’s do it. We’ll hit it fast and hard. If there’s no resistance, then we’ll clean it out—people, supplies, everything. If there is resistance, I’ll make the call on the ground. Let’s go,” Pokornoy ordered.

  Marcus had never heard of Planter’s Ridge before, but the only good thing he could think of that might come out of a raid on the town would be the opportunity to attempt to escape during the confusion. As the truck rumbled back to life and started on its way again, he went to wake Liu and figure out a plan.

  ***

  Reznik stepped out of the shower, feeling clean and refreshed for the first time in days. The hot water had loosened the kinks out of his muscles, and he felt great. With the towel wrapped around his waist, he walked into the barracks room.

  Rin glanced up as he entered. He saw that she had been laying her gear out neatly on her bunk.

  “How’s our host doing?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not well, I think. I’m no expert, but I don’t know how long he will survive without this assistant of his. I me
t her once before—pleasant lady. It would be a shame if something happened to her.”

  Reznik sat on his bunk. “I guess I don’t have much choice if I want his help. Ichiro seems like a decent guy, so I don’t mind helping him out. I just hope he can get this kill switch deactivated since I’m getting short on time.”

  “He can,” she said confidently. “So are we leaving this afternoon?”

  “We? You’re planning on going? It’s technically not part of our agreement, so feel free to stay here and rest if you like.”

  “I’ll go. I don’t like being cooped up underground—had too much of that lately.” Reznik grunted in agreement as he dug through his pack for a fresh change of clothes. He sat back on his bunk and got a view of more than he’d bargained for as Rin took off her clothes.

  The lean muscles of her back rippled as she stripped off her leathers. She reached up and freed the band from her blonde hair, allowing it to spill freely down her back. Before it was covered up, he saw that her back was covered in colorful tattoos. It might have been a trick of the light, but he thought some of her tattoos gave off a faint glow. A number of scars stitched her back and thighs. She glanced in his direction as she stepped into the shower, and Reznik looked away quickly, feeling his face go red. Shit, she caught me looking. He had never pictured her as being particularly modest about her body, but he hadn’t been expecting her to just drop her clothes either. Not that he was complaining since the view hadn’t been bad at all.

  Reznik put on his fresh clothes and lay down on the bunk. Despite everything on his mind, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  Chapter 9

  They could hear the sound of gunfire before Planter’s Ridge was even in sight. The gunshots from the distant town reverberated across the barren plain. Reznik and Rin observed the action taking place about a mile away from a low hill. The air had cooled slightly as the sun began dipping down in the west.