before it surged out into the corridor. Okey was at the head of the column, with a reluctant runner at his side, while Hoggles brought up the rear. The beast master plus a dozen of his friends had agreed to participate in the hunt, so even though Norr had been left behind to guard the faucet by herself, the runner felt reasonably confi?dent that she would be okay.
Rebo knew there was no possibility of stealth given the caliber of his troops, so he allowed the vigilantes to make as much noise as they wanted to so long as they stayed in front of Hoggles and behind him. In the meantime, as the posse comitatus put more distance between itself and the hold, Okey had become increasingly loquacious. “We were exploring,” the merchant explained. “I opposed entering this particular corridor, but Runsus insisted, and took over the lead.”
Rebo held his torch up over his head. The light surged ahead to reveal a nearly featureless overhead, graffi?ti- covered walls, and a litter-strewn deck. “There it is!” Okey said excitedly. “Up on the right. . . . That’s where the bone room is located.”
Perhaps it was the steel bulkheads that seemed to press in from both sides, or Okey’s choice of words, but whatever the reason, Rebo kept one hand on his talisman as the two of them stopped in front of an open hatch. “Look in there,”
Okey instructed, eyes averted. “And see for yourself.”
Rebo caught the fi?rst whiff of what could only be described as an overwhelming stench—and resolved to breathe through his mouth as he approached the open door. Torchlight danced across grimy walls as the runner peered into what had become a charnel house. Whatever else the compartment might have contained had long since been submerged beneath a fi?ve-foot-high heap of human bones. Arm bones, leg bones, clavicles, rib cages, spinal columns, and skulls were piled helter-skelter, as if thrown from the door. And adding to the stomach-turning horror of it was the fact that bits of rotting meat still clung to some of the bones.
“Look!” Okey said excitedly, “there’s Runsus!” And turned to throw up.
Rebo ignored the sudden spew of vomit, struggled to keep his own lunch down, and saw that the head to which Okey had referred was still recognizable. Now, for the fi?rst time since leaving the hold, the runner felt truly frightened. Judging from the size of the bone pile, scores of people had been slaughtered over a long period of time. And that implied that whoever, or whatever, had killed them was very formidable indeed. So much so that the runner didn’t believe that his undisciplined group of passengers was likely to challenge them and win. In fact, based on what he’d just seen, Rebo was about to order a return to the hold when the beast master yelled, “Look! There’s one of the bastards now!
Get him!”
Rebo shouted, “No!” but the mob ignored him and thundered up the corridor in hot pursuit of whatever the circus performer had seen. The norm, with Okey close on his heels, found himself running next to Hoggles. “I couldn’t hold them,” the heavy panted, as he pounded along. “They’re crazy.”
As if to prove the variant’s point the leaders of the mob turned a blind corner and started down a wide-open stretch of hallway. The runner saw a sign that read, security control center, and the norms who were standing directly below it. He shouted, “Get down!” But, by the time the passengers in the front rank saw the danger and began to react, Mog, Ruk, and Tas had already opened fi?re. They had armed themselves with machine pistols, and it was only a matter of seconds before people in front of them began to jerk and fall. Thanks to his position toward the front, the beast master was among the fi?rst to take a bullet, immediately followed by a mime and a clown, as the runner raised the long-barreled Hogger. The weapon bucked in his hand, made a resonant boom, and sent a bullet spinning toward one of three possible targets.
Tas felt a sledgehammer strike his chest, lived long enough to register a look of surprise, and slammed into the hatch behind him before sliding to the fl?oor. That came as a considerable surprise to the outlaw’s siblings, who had preyed on other people for years without suffering any negative consequences themselves. But there was no time to grieve, not yet at any rate, as Rebo opened up with the Crosser and bullets pinged all around them.
Mog answered with a burst of well-aimed automatic fi?re, but the runner was already falling, with Hoggles on top of him, which meant that the bullets were high. That gave the surviving cannibals suffi?cient time to slap the controls, grab their brother’s ankles, and drag the body through the hatch. The door closed with a defi?nitive thud and the battle was over.
The heavy rolled off Rebo, the runner fought to suck air back into his lungs, and allowed the variant to pull him up off the deck. The hallway looked like a slaughterhouse. A quick check confi?rmed that fi?ve passengers were dead, and three were wounded, including the beast master. It was diffi?cult to tell, given all the blood, but it appeared that a bullet had creased the performer’s skull and knocked him unconscious. Some of those who had escaped returned when the fi?ring stopped, and there were cries of grief as dead friends and relatives were located. Then, with astounding speed, sorrow turned to anger. “This is your fault!” Okey insisted, as he pointed a long skinny fi?nger at Rebo’s chest. “You led us here!” The accusation wasn’t fair, or true, but elicited a chorus of agreement from the rest of the passengers nonetheless. Rebo considered trying to defend himself, decided that it would be a waste of time to do so, and returned the Crosser to its holster. “I suggest that we carry the wounded back to the hold—and organize a burial party. Or, would you like those bastards to snack on your friends?” Okey’s face turned gray at the thought. He turned to the others, barked some orders, and the evacuation began.
Two hours later Rebo, Norr, and Hoggles were inside their shelter, sitting around a tiny oil-fed blaze. That left the water supply unguarded, but given the fact that the beast master was temporarily out of commission, the runner fi?gured it would be okay. The sensitive, who was just back from treating the wounded, cupped her mugful of tea with both hands. It was eternally cold in the hold, and the warmth felt good. “I’m sorry, Jak. . . . They were wrong. It wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s right,” the heavy agreed stolidly. “Especially since they disobeyed every order you gave them.”
“Yeah? Well, tell it to all those dead people,” the runner replied bitterly.
“I will, if I happen to run into one of them,” Norr responded calmly.
“So what are we going to do?” Hoggles inquired. The question had been directed to the sensitive, but rather than answer it, her face went suddenly blank. Nerveless fi?ngers released the mug, which fell and shattered against the metal deck. The lamp fl?ickered as droplets of tea hit the yellow fl?ame.
“Uh-oh,” Rebo said, dispiritedly. “Lysander is about to pay us a visit.”
But even as Norr was forced to make way for another entity, the sensitive knew it wasn’t Lysander, but another spirit named Kane. The same person who had been her brother in a previous lifetime, pursued her on behalf of the Techno Society during his most recent incarnation, and been killed by Rebo. Although Kane had a preference for male vehicles, such was his affi?nity for the physical plane that he found Norr’s body to be not only acceptable but rather interesting. In fact, if the opportunity arose, the invading spirit thought it would be fun to offer the female vessel to one or both of the attending males.
