'Just dem, I guess.'
'Seems likely. Therefore, it must be their bodies spoken of in the evening trid news.'
Coincidence didn't seem likely any more. Any enemy that could arrange simultaneous hits across the plex was a powerful one. 'What about Greerson?'
Neko's reply was hesitant, almost as if he were embarrassed. 'I don't know. Cog thinks he left town.'
'But he might be dead,' said Ratstomper. She had come in from the other room. The rest of the survivors-all red-eyed from smoke, crying, and lack of sleep-were crowded in the doorway. New crying burst out as soon as Ratstomper spoke.
'Shut up, drekhead. You're panicking da kids.' 'I ain't worried about them, I'raovorried about me. If the halfer's dead too, we're all that's left.' Ratstom-per's voice was shrill with fear. She'd never been one of the tougher ones. 'They'll come after us!'
'I said shut up!' Kham cuffed her and Ratstomper stumbled back into the wall. She snuffled a few times and one tear rolled down her left cheek, but at least now she was quiet. The group's morale was too fragile to let her go on stoking their fears. 'We don't know if da halfer's dead or not. We don't even know if it was da elves hit our place. And we don't know who did da chrome twins.'
'It is likely that Greerson is dead,' Neko said. 'It fits with the red-haired elf's warning.'
Kham's head was spinning. He didn't know what to do. He was losing control here, and he couldn't just knock the catboy into line. Especially because he was right. Kham was frustrated and angry, and it made his words hot and bitter. 'So how come we're still around, den? If dese elves is so almighty tough and smart, how come dey didn't get us? We're only orks wid guns. What've we got dat'll stop elf mages?'
Kham's rage seemed to have absolutely no effect on Neko. He responded calmly, as if he were addressing a bunch of suits in a corp conference room somewhere. 'I believe the red-haired elf was correct when he said that our enemy didn't expect him to be present when the raiders hit the hall. The raiders were all mundane, a suitable force to take out a place full of orks, but insufficient to deal with magical support. It was only because of the magical distraction provided by Dodger's friend that we were able to achieve surprise and turn the tables on them.'
'Yer awful sweet on dat red elf.'
'I believe he was trying to help us.' Even if he was, Kham knew that the elf was doing it for his own purposes, whatever they were. 'He had his reasons.'
'Of that I am sure.' Neko agreed. 'But whatever they are, they worked to our benefit. We must accept that.'
'So whatcha suggestin'? That we run ta him fer help?'
'lie. I do not believe that it would be forthcoming.'
Kham narrowed his eyes and squinted at the catboy. The kid was ahead of him tonight; he already had a plan. 'Den what ya got have in mind?'
'Cog is willing to help.'
Kham knew about that kind of help. 'For a fee.'
'Of course.'
The wry expression on Neko's face said that he knew about that kind of help, too. And why shouldn't he? For all that he looked like a kid, he'd been running the shadows. Kham knew how fast that made one aware of the realities of life. Still, there were unanswered-drek, unasked-questions here. Suspiciously, Kham asked, 'He offered?'
'Would you expect an offer from Cog?'
Kham snarled. 'Don' answer my question wid a question, catboy.'
Again ignoring Kham's threatening tone, Neko smiled and said, 'I made some suggestions.'
'And ya came up wit sumpin' Cog would agree ta?'
'Correct.'
'Awright, awright. Ya got me interested. What's yer plan?'
'Cog can arrange to make it look like the hit at your house was completely successful, and meanwhile we drop deeper into the shadows until it all blows over. We will need another hideout, of course. You and your people are too well-known here, and you have no supplies. You would have to go out, and you would be seen, and recognized. Someone would talk.'
Kham was only too aware of how cheaply some of his neighbors would sell them out. 'Find a hole and pull it in after us, huh?'
'Was that not your desire?'
'Yeah. I guess I did say dat was da ting ta do.' Laying low was the usual way to avoid unwanted attention. But so many of his chummers had died. And his family had lost their home. Who was going to pay for that? Street justice demanded that he hit back, which was exactly what he'd have done if another gang had hit his gang. But he was a shadowrunner now, not a gang leader. The rules were different.
They'd already paid a high enough price to further the unknown ambitions of those mysterious elves. Lying low might be a cowardly response for a gang leader, but Kham didn't want revenge to cost them any more lives. He was no longer just a ganger. He had a family and a lot of other folks who depended on him. He'd already failed some of them. That failure made him mad, really mad, but he had to think about the living. If only he could believe that the danger would really end if they dropped out of sight for a while. 'How much is it goin' ta cost?' Kham said.
Glasgian understood the reason for the starkness of the chamber, the barrenness of the walls, and the dry dustiness of the earthen floor, but he didn't like it. All was as Urdli had commanded, but Glasgian found the place too stark, too… primitive. His Scaratelli shoes had already picked up a film of dust.
In the wan ruby glow from the carved crystal Glasgian's fair skin looked ruddy, disgustingly like a norm's. Urdli's dark skin didn't show the effects as much, but it did take on an unhealthy sheen. Not that the other elf was ill, for he wasn't. A sick, or even dying, Urdli was a prospect that Glasgian found not unpleasant, just untimely. Urdli was vital to ferreting out the secrets of the stone, for he had a mastery of that substance that none in the Sixth World could match. Once that mastery had been employed and the secrets won, there would be no more need to cooperate with the insufferable Australian. 'You are early,' Urdli said, turning from his work. Despite Glasgian's most careful precautions, Urdli had been aware of his presence. Silently, Glasgian renewed his oath to discover the nuances necessary to mask himself from the Australian's senses. He walked up to Urdli and looked over his shoulder. Glasgian grimaced in disgust at the animal parts and carved stones arranged in odd patterns around the eviscerated lizard at the dark elf's feet. There was blood on Urdli's fingers. Likely he had gutted the lizard with his bare hands. Disgusting.
With forced politeness, Glasgian asked, 'Have you made progress?' 'Yes.' 'Well?'
'There are still details that remain unclear.' 'When will we know?'
Finally Urdli turned his eyes from the objects before him and stared up at Glasgian. The dark elfs face was all disapproval. 'You are impatient.'
Glasgian bristled inwardly at his partner's insulting attitude. Urdli was his elder, but he was still just a vagabond from Australia. Glasgian Oakforest was a prince, and the son of a prince, born of a line that stretched back to the beginnings of elvenkind. The Australian, fossilized in his old ways, had no justification for showing disapproval of Glasgian. What business had a vagabond disapproving of a prince?
'And you are old and slow,' Prince Glasgian said, not hiding his indignation. 'I move with due caution, makkaherinit.' Again Glasgian felt stung by the insult, but this was not the time to show his anger. He forced calm on himself. He knew that Urdli was goading him, deliberately taunting him, and he was determined not to give the dark elf any satisfaction. Harnessing his will, Glasgian controlled his temper. Later, they would see, but for now he'd turn the talk to other matters. 'The runners are taken care of.' 'You have moved against them already?' 'Of course. We cannot afford for word of our involvement in this matter to get out.' 'Then they are all dead?'
'No, not all. The dwarf escaped before my agents could reach him, but the others are dead. The cyber-ized norms died in street violence and the orks in a building fire. The Japanese norm, too. For some odd reason, he was with the orks at the time of the fire. I
had thought his kind had more refined aesthetics. Do you think he was defective in some way? It was difficult
