[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
waited through the squawks and crackles of the unscrambling circuit. Then a
voice whispered in his ear, a man's voice he had heard three times before.
"Mags on their way. A PPP."
"Who?"
"Two you know, Kane and Grant. A cherry named Boon. Chill Grant, and chill
Boon if you have to.
Leave Kane. Chill Grant. Acknowledge."
"Acknowledged."
"Repeatchill Grant. Make it messy. Make it ugly. Do it in front of Kane. Very
important. Again, chill
Grant in front of Kane. Acknowledge."
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...%20-%20Exile%20to%20Hell(v1.0)%
20[html].html (80 of 237) [12/28/2004 3:53:35 PM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/James%20Axler%20-%20Outland
er%2001%20-%20Exile%20to%20Hell(v1.0)%20[html].html
"Acknowledged."
His ear filled with a hash of static. With trembling hands, Teague stripped
off the headset and replaced the trans-comm unit in the niche. His bowels felt
loose, and his heart hammered painfully within his chest.
Five years ago, he had been hauled in for questioning.
He'd been detained for days, or at least it felt like it. He wasn't given food
or water, nor had there been any light in his detention cell. Then a Mag in
full armor had opened the door. He had expected to be chilled on the spot.
Instead of pulling a Sin Eater, the Mag had pulled the trans-comm unit, shoved
it in his hands and told him he was free to go.
That very night, Teague had received the first signal, and he heard that cold
voice, sounding as if it were whispering across the dark gulfs of space. The
voice had curtly told him that if he wished to continue as
Pit boss, if he wished to continue to live, he would do what he was ordered.
Guana Teague had obeyed and he had continued to live as the Pit boss.
He had no idea whom the voice belonged to, and he was afraid to even
speculate. Whoever he was, Teague was allowed to operate without serious Mag
interference in his businessas long as he did as he was commanded.
The three prior assignments had been simple and easy to performprovide the
names of jolt-walkers, alert the Mags if unusually advanced tech came in from
the Outlands and supply the name of the best smuggler.
The last had been the easiest, requiring no research or expenditure of energy.
Milton Reeth was the best, the most resourceful, the most clever. He had
reported Reeth's name more than a year ago, and had heard nothing of the man
since.
And now he was ordered to arrange a murder, and not just any murder, but a
veteran Magistrate's. Grant was known and feared in the Pits, as well as in
the Outlands. Kane's rep was just as fearsome. Only last year, a gaggle of
Page 62
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
triple-stupe jolt-walkers had tried to pull an ambush on a Mag squad led by
Kane and
Grant.
Teague shut the panel, muttering, "Oh, fuck me, fuck me" like a litany. Sweat
slid down his face as he lumbered to the east corner of the room. He suddenly
exuded a raw, animal stench of fear. From her place on the floor, Domi watched
him with wide eyes, wrinkling her nose at the odor.
Grunting, the Pit boss squatted down and levered up a loose flagstone. From a
recess dug into the dirt and reinforced with strips of tin, he pulled out a
flat black case. Straightening up, he carried it over to the tabletop. Undoing
the latches, he opened the top of the case. Resting within hollowed-out foam
cushions was a pair of automatic hand-blasters.
He had found the matched set of mint-condition mini-Uzi submachine guns
waiting for him in his quarters one night last year. He assumed his faceless
benefactor/commander had arranged the delivery.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...%20-%20Exile%20to%20Hell(v1.0)%
20[html].html (81 of 237) [12/28/2004 3:53:35 PM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/James%20Axler%20-%20Outland
er%2001%20-%20Exile%20to%20Hell(v1.0)%20[html].html
Strapped on the underside of the lid were four full-capacity box magazines.
Each magazine held twenty-
five 9 mm parabellum rounds.
The blasters were worth a fortune, especially to roamers, but Teague knew
better than to sell them or think seriously about it. Gun possession in the
Pits was a mandatory death sentence, even crappy home-
forged muzzle loaders.
Domi laughed from behind him, a musical sound of wicked delight. He turned
slightly. She had climbed to her feet and stood there with her hands on her
flaring hips, red-sheathed legs wide apart. Mildly he asked, "What do you find
funny, sweetheart?"
"You," she said. "Turn me in, huh? Me with bogus chip, you with high-tower
tech and blasters. Mags finds out, you get big-time dead, Pit finds out, even
bigger-time dead. You're Mag spy first, I betcha. Pit boss second. Term of my
service over , lizard dick! Term of your service starts now!"
Teague put his hand over one of the Uzis. "This isn't the time to renegotiate
our agreement, Domi."
She laughed again scornfully. "Time is right. So pucker up and kiss my
lily-white ass."
Teague moved. He whipped the frame of the blaster across the side of Domi's
head. She didn't cry out, but she careened across the room, slammed into the
wall, bounced from it and fell to the floor in a flailing tangle of arms and
legs. She managed to catch herself with her hands, but she hung her head,
blood streaming from a laceration in her scalp. The crimson flow stood out
starkly against her white skin.
Stepping over to her, the Pit boss gripped her by the hair and hauled her to
her knees, yanking her head back at a painful angle. She was dazed but still
conscious, and she didn't resist when he inserted the short barrel of the Uzi
into her mouth.
"Do you want to end your service right now?" he hissed. Spittle strings
drooled from his lips. "Tell me, you goddamn bleached-out gaudy slut. Tell
me!"
Domi shook her headat least as much as his cruel grip allowed.
"Then you'll do what I tell you to, won't you?"
Domi tried to nod, her front teeth clinking on the metal of the blaster's
barrel.
Teague abruptly released her, and she sagged to the floor, hand pressing
against the wound on her head.
Blood oozed slowly between her fingers.
Page 63
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Teague wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand, then realized his pants
were about to slip down his hips. He had forgotten that he'd untied the
drawstring. Holding them up with one hand, he gestured with the mini-Uzi in
the other. "Get up. Clean yourself up." He paused and whispered, "Sweetheart."
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E...%20-%20Exile%20to%20Hell(v1.0)%
20[html].html (82 of 237) [12/28/2004 3:53:35 PM]
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20E-books/James%20Axler%20-%20Outland
er%2001%20-%20Exile%20to%20Hell(v1.0)%20[html].html
Chapter Twelve
Kane exhaled a wreath of smoke. "They used to call places like this
'pestholes.'"
"What do they call them now?" Boon was eager to know.
"Pestholes," answered Grant, allowing the smoke to dribble out of his nostrils
in fitful spurts.
One of the first things Kane and Grant had done upon leaving the walled
perimeter was to seek out a wandering tobacconist and buy several cigars. Buy
wasn't accurate, since the merchant hadn't requested jack. Nor had the
Magistrates offered it.
Hardly anyone but outlanders had used tobacco in any form for a long time.
There were mild drugs available that were much safer, less offensive to others
and with just as much power to even out moods or focus the mind. Smoking was
certainly forbidden in the monolith and the Enclaves, but in the Pits, the use
of anything that might lower life expectancy was encouraged.
Both Kane and Grant had learned to appreciate a good cigar during their many
Pit patrols, and having the opportunity to puff on a few was the only bright
spot in an otherwise drab tour of duty.
Kane, Grant and Boon picked their way through the muddy streets, among the
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]