Fear That Man

Buronto was shoving his way through the crowded room, heedless of whether men fell off chairs when he passed or not. He was still the giant Sam remembered, eyes wild and flaming as they had been in the dream, huge jaw set grimly, hands constantly clenching and unclenching.

“His voice,” Sam said swiftly, suddenly realizing these two knew nothing of the anachronism, not wanting a scene like the last one he could remember in the Inferno. “It’s… well, girlish. Don’t laugh. He’d just as soon kill you as let you laugh at him.”

“Oh now, just for laughing—” Coro began.

“I mean it. He would kill. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

“You wanted to see me?” Buronto asked, stepping next to their table, fists balled and rammed against his hips. “What do you—” He paused, his eyes widening, his nostrils dilating. “I know you!” He coughed with rage, choking on his own gall. “You’re the damned punk who—”

“Sit down. Sit down. That’s over and done with. I have a proposition for you now.”

“You’re the squirt who—”

“Sit down and talk this instant or I’ll kill you on the spot!” Sam hissed.

The big man looked startled. It was a long gamble, but he didn’t know that Sam had been hypnotized. As far as Buronto was concerned, this was a killer, like himself, a man who fought back harder and better than he could. He sat.

“That’s better,” Sam said. “Now, I’m going to ask you to do something for me.”

Buronto laughed, still playing the role of the man who is too big to be bought, too powerful to want to bargain, too awesome to shove.

“Shut up,” Sam said evenly. He had to impress Buronto with the arrangement of things the way he saw them. That was: Sam as the boss, Buronto as the loyal sidekick. Never for a single moment could the giant get the idea that he was more powerful than Sam. That would be dangerous. That would be deadly.

“Now look here,” Buronto said, though more hurt than angry.

“I don’t want to have to get forceful, Jack,” Sam said, placing a ridiculously small hand on the enormous shoulder. He could feel the man’s muscles looped like cables of steel beneath the shirt. “Don’t force me to get aggressive. No need for that at all, Jack. There’s something in this for you — something that I’m sure you’ll enjoy, something that will easily make it worth your time and effort.”

“I don’t need money,” Buronto said, staring around the table, his eyes fastening on Lotus and looking up and down her tiny form, his gaze lingering on her pert breasts, her slim shoulders, the graceful curve of her neck, full lips, deep, deep eyes. But he got hung up in the eyes and looked quickly away.

“It isn’t money,” Sam said, hunching over in a more conspiratorial manner. “It’s something you will really enjoy.” He dropped his voice even lower. “It’s the only thing that money can’t buy any more.”

Buronto looked at him. Their eyes met and held like magnets. Sam could feel the hatred boiling in those eyes, frothing and foaming, held back only by curiosity and willpower. “The only thing I would truly enjoy at this moment,” Buronto growled through clenched teeth, “would be gutting you and ripping out your heart.”

Lotus gasped and Coro made a choking sound. Buronto looked at them, grinned at their weakness, his broad, perfect teeth almost carnivorous.

Sam laughed. It wasn’t easy, and he was afraid it sounded a bit forced. But he laughed anyway. He brought his hand down on Buronto’s shoulder with every bit of force he could muster, trying to make it seem casual. The friendly slap jolted the giant, and he looked at Sam with fear in his eyes as well as hatred. Good. As long as he fears me, Sam thought, as long as he misunderstands my abilities and powers, some sort of order can be maintained. But if he only knew how my hand stings! “I’m sure you would like to kill me, Jack. Oh, I’m just positive of that.” His gorge was rising. Vomit stung the back of his throat. With great concentration, he forced it back down, but the bitter taste remained in his mouth. “But don’t try it unless you count on the tables being reversed and your death being the main attraction.”

Lotus swallowed half her drink in a single gulp, batted her eyelashes to hold back tears as the strong liquor burned down her throat.

“But you hit it partly right, Jack. I can give you the chance to kill. Not me, of course. Others. Others who —”

Buronto’s eyes narrowed, and he grabbed one fist in the other as if cracking a large nut. “You’re crazy!”

“Hardly.”

“Impossible.”

“No.”

Buronto looked at the three of them, searching for some sign that it was a put-on, a ruse to make fun of an Unnatural. It wasn’t entirely comforting not to find such a sign. His voice rose an octave with the excitement. “The medics would narco-dart me and keep me in drug stupor the rest of my natural life!”

“No, they wouldn’t.”

Silence a moment.

“Okay,” Buronto said at length. “You have me hooked. What the hell is the deal?”

Sam explanied. Several times, he had to threaten Buronto to keep him still and quiet enough to listen. The giant refused, at first, to believe it. Extra-galactics. Slug-forms. Raceship. Too much for him and his limited concepts. But after much cajoling and a mass of detailed testimony, he was more willing to believe though still somewhat skeptical. “Well, anyway,” Sam said, “you’ll see for yourself in—” he looked at his watch. “You’ll see for yourself in less than ten minutes.”

“That soon?” Coro asked, his eyes popping open wide.

“You said two hours,” Sam replied. “That gives us just eight minutes.”

“Purgatory is supposed to be longer than that,” Lotus joked. But it wasn’t particularly funny.

Then, abruptly, there was a fierce booming, a whine of metal cooling, and the street outside was alive with a gush of crimson flame. Centuries-old walls cracked open and tumbled before the onslaught.

“They’re early,” Sam said.

Buronto was on his feet, moving toward the door. They followed. The room had suddenly become a place of panic and not a place of entertainment. People shoved and kicked to be the first outside, the first to break for an escape from whatever terrible business was occurring. Buronto stepped aside and let them rush out, aware — as they were not — that it was a great deal safer in the Inferno than on a street where fire ate the asphalt and buildings dissolved in deafening roars.

In moments the bar was empty, save for the four of them. They stood in the doorway, watching the black magno-sleds that cruised above the street and between the spires of Hope. There were four slugs per sled, one to steer, one to man the heavy-duty laser cannon, and two to fire laser rifles. They swept down the long avenue, burning down the masses of fleeing people.

“You see?” Sam said.

Buronto’s mouth hung open. “They… they’re killing!”

“And you can kill their Central Being and get your kicks while still playing it legal. Up and up. No sweat. What do you say?”

Buronto turned, stared, eyes flaming with desire that had washed away most of the fear and hatred. “But why don’t you do it? You kill. Why not save the kicks for yourself?”

Sam had anticipated that question ever since he had begun their conversation. At first it had thrown him, the possibility of the giant asking that. He had gone through a dozen answers, considering each and the effect it would bring about, finally rejecting eleven of them. It was no use trying to fake the giant. No sense in putting him on. If Buronto thought for one moment that he was being used, and realized that Sam was afraid and unable to kill, he would turn on them and the end would be swifter and bloodier than anything the slugs could manage. “Because,” he said, smiling what he hoped was rather an evil and superior smile, “it is dangerous. You may have to fight your way from Ship’s Core. The Central Being may be ten times more powerful than we can imagine. Your chances in a battle with It are probably no better than fifty-fifty. I like to kill sure. But not enough to risk dying for the pleasure.” But you, Sam thought, are willing to die for that pleasure. Or risk fifty-fifty odds for it. Fool that you are, you’ve swallowed the slimy bait, and you’re ready to run to hell and back with the line.

A blue explosion tore four floors from the middle of a nearby office complex. The top part wiggled, fell. Stone