Wasteland
by Becca Abbott
Part 11
Night fell and with it, the end of the daytime silence that hung like a shroud over the old city. Raoul sat, cross-legged on his bed, watching the cracks in the boarded-up windows go from bright gold to deep purple, then black. A few feet away, the mongrel slept, curled into a ball on the mattress, dark head buried in the crook of his elbow.
Raoul's every sense seemed alive and quivering. He could hear tiny sounds, the movements of their neighbors in this hellhole, the ever more frequent coming and going in the street outside. At one point, there had been scrabbling at the door, but whoever it was had discovered it bolted and slunk away.
This was a world completely alien to Raoul who had never before been in an environment so charged with actual, physical danger. There were assassinations in Tanagara, but they rarely threatened the Elite and when they did, it was usually only lightning rods like Iason, who walked in both the Midas and Ceres.
A scream broke the silence outside. Raoul's hand tightened around his gun. On the other bed, Guy stirred, opened his eyes, and sat up. He stared at Raoul, then to the Blondie's surprise, smiled. "Hey. Ready to party?"
Not particularly. There was shouting outside and the rumble of an engine.
"What's different about this place?" Raoul asked. "Why do people congregate here?"
"There's a fresh water source nearby. A local boss controls it and keeps the neighborhood quiet. Last night we were in no man's land. Only crazies out there."
"And you chose to come to the Wasteland after the explosion?"
For just a second, Guy's eyes were stark. "Yeah," he said and got up, turning away, stretching. The Blondie caught his breath. Untying his ponytail, Guy shook out his dark hair, all unconscious of the effect he had on Raoul. But when he reached up to tie it back again, Raoul stood and caught his wrist. "I told you. Leave it loose."
Dark eyes flared. A muscle leapt in the lean jaw. Raoul's fingers tightened in warning. "It gets in my way," said Guy then, quietly.
"No." Raoul dug into one of the bags and pulled out a tube. "And clean off that beard. Just because we're surrounded by savages doesn't mean you have to be one."
Teeth clenched, tube of depilatory clutched in his fist, the mongrel stalked into the next room. Raoul resumed to his seat. It was awhile before Guy returned, temper once more under control, face smooth. He said, "Ready?"
Raoul nodded.
"Before we go, pick out some of this shit that you can live without," Guy said, motioning to the stuff on the table. "Everyone's on the barter system here. For obvious reasons, Tanaguran credits are worthless."
Guy was right, it was a different world after dark. The deserted, dusty streets were suddenly inhabited. Buildings Raoul had thought empty showed yellow, flickering light in their windows. Men passed them, staring, but no one made any aggressive moves. He heard music, an old song, winding out from an alley.
"Where are we going?"
"To the fountain. It's the center of everything. We can start asking our questions there. They'll probably remember me, so we might even get some answers."
"And me?"
Guy gave him a quick, malicious smile. "You can be my bitch."
Raoul bared his teeth in return.
As Guy led them further from their base, the streets became more crowded. Rusted, elderly cars and bikes began to appear, going slowly. Efforts had been made to patch the broken pavement and rebuild walls here and there.
"Hey, buddy!" shouted a man sitting with a crowd of others on a stoop. "You sell any of that?"
There was rude laughter. Raoul started to turn, but Guy slid his arm through the Blondie's and shouted back, "No! Would you?"
More laughter. Raoul's face burned. They kept going. Guy, to Raoul intense irritation, was grinning. "What the hell did you expect?" the mongrel said. "You should see yourself. You're a first class asshole, Blondie, but you're as hot as they come."
Raoul could think of nothing to say. He stared down at Guy who released him and, reddening, walked a little faster. Rounding a corner after him, the Blondie blinked in surprise. They faced a plaza like the one they'd seen the day before, but this one was crowded with tents and ramshackle huts arranged in rough groupings.
"Midnight's market," said Guy. "C'mon."
The market was bustling. Raoul wondered if Iason and Katze knew about this. Power cells, processed foods, clothes, computers, weapons – all of it was here. None of it was top of the line, of course, most of the stuff looking well-used, but even so, after the desolation surrounding him, it was a startling sight.
In the center of the square was another fountain, but this was spraying water into the air. A fence had been erected around it, with a shack set up in front of the gate. A line of men waited to get in, containers gripped in their hands. There was a plasboard hut next to the gate and two beefy men keeping things orderly.
One of the guards saw them and started. "Guy!"
"Let me do the talking," Guy said in a low voice, and hands in his pockets, walked over to the man. "Hey."
"Thought you'd gone back to Ceres." The man stared at Raoul, then at Guy's new arm.
"I did. Got repaired." He grinned. "Bill, isn't it?"
The man nodded, looking again at Raoul. "He from Ceres, too?"
"Yep. What's new?"
"Not a lot. Cripper bought it last month. Urte took him out. Otherwise life goes on, huh?"
"Guess so."
"You gonna be around for awhile?"
"Maybe. I'm looking for a friend of mine. He hooked up with something called Juno. Ever heard of it?"
The man's face scrunched as he concentrated on the question. "Ya know, someone was talkin' about a Juno a whilse back. Where the hell, did I hear that?"
"HEY! Bill! Get back here!"
Bill looked over his shoulder at his fellow guard. "Yeah, yeah! Just a sec. I think it was at Grog's, over by the pit. Some guy who sells tech was goin' on about 'em. Are they some Tanagura computer outfit?"
"Yeah." Guy smiled. "Grog's huh?"
"Yeah. Hey – if you're stickin around, let's get together and shoot some dice. I got some money to win back!"
Raoul watched as the two mongrels laughed and slapped each other on the back. Walking away, Guy's smile turned smug. "Not bad. A hit straight off."
"If anything comes of it."
They made their way through the booths. Raoul smelled roasting meat and his stomach growled. The rations they'd brought from Midas were suddenly woefully inadequate. He was thinking of putting off the visit to Grog's to seek the source of the mouth-watering aroma when his eye was caught by a gleam of liquid black. The bike!
It stood in a small, clear space between two booths, surrounded by a handful of admirers. A bearded, toothless villain stood near it, hand on his gun, pointing out this and that.
"Raoul, wait..."
But Raoul was not in the mood. Shaking off Guy's cautionary hand, he pushed his way through the crowd, straight up to the man, fist closing around the man's filthy collar. He would have hoisted him straight off the ground if Guy hadn't reached him, dragging his arm back.
"Watch yourself!" the mongrel hissed. "Max's men might be around."
Raoul looked into the rat-like face of the thief and snarled, shaking him like a rag doll. The thief emitted tiny squeaking sounds of terror and clawed ineffectually at Raoul's wrists.
A shot whisking past Raoul's ear startled him into dropping the worm. He whirled around to see two big, roughly dressed men with good plasma rifles heading in their direction. "Max's peace-keepers," Guy said in a low, worried voice. "Shit. Nice work, Raoul."
Raoul released the rat man and watched impassively as the two self-styled policemen approached.
"What's the problem" one said, looking at Raoul with a slight widening of his eyes.
"He stole my bike," Raoul said.
"It's not true! It's mine!" shrieked Rat Man.
"Can you prove it's yours?" the second peacekeeper asked Raoul.
"I have the drive processor, and the ignition back at my room. You'll notice both those items are jerry-rigged here."
They looked at the bike and shrugged. "Not conclusive."
"What?"
"Not conclusive," repeated the man. "If you want it, you'll have to challenge."
"Challenge?"
"Combat," said Guy. "Fight for it."
Raoul looked at the thief. "Fight him?"
"Or his Second." Guy moved closer. "He can hire someone to defend him. There's a group of men who do nothing but that."
"Fine," said Raoul. "I'll challenge." He glared down at the thief, who retreated several more steps until his back was against the wall.
"Will you fight or will your Second?" asked a peacekeeper.
"Second!" the little man said, shooting poisonous glares at Raoul. "What do you put up?"
"Put up?"
"If you lose, you pay a penalty," Guy said helpfully. His face was expressionless, but his eyes gleamed. "It has to be of equal value."
Raoul shrugged. "What do you want?"
The little thief leered. It was an unlovely sight, revealing a mouthful of rotted teeth. "You. When you lose, pretty boy, I'm gonna give you to anyone who wants you, watch 'em fuck you until you scream for mercy."
Guy swore and took a step toward the rat. Raoul smiled. "All right."
Guy muttered something under his breath and turned away. A crowd of onlookers had been gathering and there were ragged cheers. The two peacekeepers grinned. One of them jerked his head to the right. "Okay. Right this way, sir."
"You're out of your mind," Guy sighed, striding alongside him. "These Seconds are pros."
"I can handle myself."
They walked from the square, along a narrow street and, finally, out into what must have once been a small park. It was nothing but bare, dusty soil now. A fence traced a big oval in the middle of it. There was a chair built on stilts at the narrow end. Benches were placed around the fence. A number of large, rough looking men sat there, drinking or throwing dice. They all looked up with interest when the little party arrived.
"Are you sure you don't want a Second?" Guy fretted. "There's probably something we brought they'd take."
"No."
There was conversation between the thief, the peacekeepers and several of the hopeful Seconds. Finally, one of the peacekeepers came over to Guy and Raoul. "He's ready. You'll be fightin' Mauler." The man jerked his head toward a massive block of a man, bald and covered with scars. He was openly leering at Raoul.
"Fuck," muttered Guy. "You better know what you're doing, Blo – Raoul."
People were coming from everywhere, gathering around ring. The benches were quickly taken as more came, standing five or six deep, jostling to get a view.
The other peacekeeper climbed up into the chair. The referee?
"What are the rules?"
Guy laughed hollowly. "Rules? You're joking, right?"
"That's what I thought." Raoul pulled off his coat and handed it to Guy. From the bystanders immediately surrounding them came a low sigh of appreciation. "I'll be back." he said, and walked into the ring.