Wasteland
by Becca Abbott
Part 10
The bike was gone.
Guy knew he should have been furious, but the look on Raoul's face was almost worth the loss of the beautiful machine. The Blondie stared at the empty stairwell as if refusing to believe what his eyes told him. It required monumental self-control not to sneer in that handsome face. Instead, Guy shifted the saddlebags on his shoulder and pushed past Raoul and out onto the ruined street. He dropped the bags and, back to the wall beside the door, deliberately reached around and, with a bit of string, tied his hair out of his face. Raoul stepped out into the morning, face pale and grim. His eyes flashed to Guy's hair and away. He said nothing.
"The first thing we have to do," said Guy, "is get out of this neighborhood. If the thief is planning to sell it, they'll almost certainly take it to Midnight. There's a real market there. We could also start asking around about Riki."
"We can recover the bike?"
"Probably. C'mon." It was tempting to leave the bags for the Blondie to carry, but Guy figured that would be pushing it. Raoul didn't look he was going to take too much shit. Sighing, he hoisted them to his shoulder again and started down the street. After a moment, he heard Raoul's rapid footsteps catching up to him.
They walked in silence. Guy kept his eyes and ears open, paying special attention to rooftops – where they still existed – and places where shadows lived. Nothing much moved around in daylight, but you never knew. A lot of people out here weren't exactly sane.
"Are you in contact with Jupiter at all?" he asked finally.
"I have a device that will transmit a signal when we've found Iason and Riki and, of course, my chip is linked to Tanagura by satellite, but other than that, we're on our own."
Well, damn. Guy started walking again. Up ahead, the street emptied out onto a broad plaza. A broken fountain stood in the middle, filled with brackish water. "Toxic," said Guy, seeing Raoul give it a speculative look. Still, it was a landmark he recognized. Guy turned down another street.
"We're being watched."
Guy's heart gave a little leap, but he nodded, careful not to look around. Blondie senses, he told himself ruefully. "Where?"
"Behind and to the left."
"Can you see them?"
"No. Just hear them. Two, I think."
"Great."
"What do we do?"
"Nothing, unless they jump us."
Raoul said something under his breath. Guy kept going.
They were moving into a part of the old city that was in better shape than what they'd seen so far. There were more whole buildings and others that looked as if they'd been repaired recently. In the windows on his right Guy saw shadows move. He turned left down an alley. Ahead, he saw a familiar, single-story building of crumbling concrete.
"That's an inn," Guy said. "If you've got something to trade, we can have a secure place to stay for the night."
"How far are we from this place, Midnight?"
"We're right in the middle of it."
"Where are all the people?"
"Most folks stay inside during the day. Sometimes Tanaguran security jets fly out this way. They've been known to fire a few rockets into places they know are inhabited."
The lobby of the "hotel" was as dingy and uninviting as its exterior. The clerk sat behind a high counter with a steel bars protecting him from his customers. A few old vinyl sofas were strewn about, but there was no one sitting in them. To the right of the clerk was a single reinforced door.
Guy shouted the dozing clerk awake. The man examined Raoul's offering, an elegant bracelet of heavy gold chain. For that, they were given the hotel's best accommodations – just a few steps away from the latrine – for up to a week. The clerk disappeared briefly, reappearing to let them through the steel door. A long hallway stretched before them, lined with doors. Theirs was at the very end. Raoul unlocked it and went in, Guy right behind him.
"It's not as bad as the other place," the Blondie said, matter-of-fact.
It wasn't. There were two rooms and both were reasonably clean. One had a battered sofa and table and chairs. The other had two sagging metal-framed beds with a table between them.
"We should start looking for Iason," said Raoul.
"I told you. Nothing will happen until after sundown. Relax."
Raoul nodded reluctantly. He sat down on one of the beds.
Guy still found it disconcerting to see the Blondie with black hair. Raoul pulled off his coat. Under it, he wore a black, scoop-necked shirt that hugged his broad chest and shoulders. He looked dangerous and sexy. A long, midnight lock fell into his eyes. He shook it back. Guy looked away.
"What do you think this Juno is?" he asked finally.
Raoul shrugged. "Revolutionaries, maybe. The profile of the crime suggests it."
"That's right. You're a mind-fucker."
"Behavior modification," corrected Raoul, but something that looked suspiciously like dark humor lurked in that blue gaze.
Guy gave a breath of a laugh. "Yeah." He stared down at his boots for a moment, then looked up. "If we find them, and bring them back – then what?"
One slender eyebrow lifted quizzically.
"What will you do with me?"
The limpid gaze moved deliberately over him. "What should I do with you?"
"Let me go?"
Raoul met Guy's grin with one of his own. "I don't know. Mongrels are addictive. I may not be able to."
Guy's jaw sagged. He made a belated recovery. "You could always try some of that behavior modification on yourself!"
Raoul only smiled that tiny, arrogant Blondie smile and said nothing more.
"Did you want to be his pet?"
Riki looked over at Minton. It was the captain's turn to watch him. They sat playing cards in the commons area of the underground bunker. It was for the relaxation and recreation of the operation's small staff. There were comfortable couches grouped about, computers without keyboards and holographic entertainment units of a sophistication far beyond Amoi's.
"No," he said.
It had been three days since he and Iason had been brought to this place. Since then, he'd not seen Iason. Out of sight, however, did not mean out of mind. He thought about Iason constantly and worried. His guards considered Jupiter something twisted and evil and the Blondie, as one of her favored sons, was the living embodiment of it for them. When Riki had asked to see him, his captors had been shocked and disapproving.
"They're freaks of nature," Minton claimed of the Elites. "Not a natural cell in their bodies. They spend the moment of their birth to their majority sitting in little cubicles getting data fed into their brains like goddamned androids. It's creepy."
But Iason was no android. Androids wouldn't put their lives and social status on the line again and again for one insignificant little mongrel. Androids didn't have smiles like Iason's, rare and shiny-new, sweet as a child's. Iason was in danger. Riki knew it.
Minton set down a card. Riki picked it up and discarded one of his own. Minton grinned, whistling through his teeth.
Minton and the others were from Earth. That one was still hard to believe. Distant, mythical Terra, birthplace of humankind. Riki had always thought it was just a legend. The Terrans called themselves Operation Olympus and were here, they said, to free Amoi from Jupiter. When that was accomplished, there would be no more Elites, no more "genetically imposed" social boundaries. Mongrels would be treated just like anyone else.
"Hell, mongrels are all over the goddamned universe," Minton had laughed. "I'm a product of random repro, myself. My folks got married with only a screening for major congenital diseases. There's laws against makin' freaks like Mink."
Riki lay down another card and took a drink of his beer. He carefully did not mention the pet they had killed in their search for the "top freak." If they wished only ill for Iason, Riki thought suddenly, maybe he was going about this the wrong way.
"What I'd like," he said, keeping his voice casual, "is a chance to pay back the Blondie with some of his own medicine. Oh – and I call." With a flourish, he lay down his cards. Minton gaped, then groaned, tossing his cards on the table.
Jelly hooted. "Wouldn't that be a bitch? Have the Blondie lick your boots for a change. I like it!"
Minton grinned, gathering up the cards. "You're a sicko, Jelly." He cocked his head at Riki. "Although, I gotta say, I'd probably feel the same if it was me. Shit, kid. A full house! You sure you never played this game before?"