His tone was confident and the others nodded in agreement, but Kham found himself wondering. How could Neko be so sure? As Kham recalled, he had first heard Neko identify the Dark One as Urdli to Dodger, who had not batted an eye, like they both knew what the catboy was talking about. Neko hadn't told Kham or the guys anything more than that the elf was an Australian, but the catboy obviously knew more about the dark-skinned elf. The catboy liked his secrets too much to be a real chummer. That was fine by Kham unless those secrets might be important to their survival. But was this the best time to try to pry them out? Before Kham could frame his question, The Weeze was asking one of her own.

'Well, if it ain't a spat between Mister Dark and Mister Light, why were those heavy metalboys after the rock?'

'The conclusion is obvious. Someone else knows about the crystal,' Neko replied.

'Another elf?' Ryan asked tremulously. 'What's with you? You got elves on the brain,' Rabo said. 'There's a lot more folks out there working angles besides elves.'

Holding on to his idea, Ryan whined, 'But how would anybody else know about the elf eternity magic?'

'We know,' Kham pointed out. 'So who do you think it is?' Ryan asked, turning on him. 'Rabo said this rig was Miltron hardware.

Those are some scary boys. I don't want to frag with that corp.'

'Now, I didn't say it was for sure Miltron,' Rabo protested.

'But it could be,' Ryan insisted. 'They make mil-spec stuff. Drek, maybe they made those cyberguys. If they did, they could make more. Drek, we're gonna get hosed.''

'Calm down,' Neko suggested. 'Panic will not do us any good at all.'

'Somebody's got to worry about it,' Ryan said.

'We're all worried,' Neko said quietly. 'We're just not panicking.'

Ryan cast frantic looks around the enclosed space. The other orks were almost as calm as the catboy. The kid looked to his shaman, but Scatter was absorbed in the crystal. Ryan turned to Kham. 'What do you think, Kham. Is it Miltron?'

Kham shook his head. 'Dunno.'

'Well, what are we going to do?' The young ork looked about ready to freak, but Kham didn't have the answers to satisfy him. If Ryan couldn't handle not knowing who was out there looking for them, he wasn't cut out for shadowrunning. Best to find that out now, before the kid lost it during a run.

Ryan stared at him, chewing his lip. He fidgeted for a while, then said, 'Harry would know what to do.'

'Harry hates magic.' Ratstomper turned to Scatter. 'Present company excepted.'

'Not excepted. Harry tolerates my presence because he understands my importance, not because he likes me or my magic. You are right, Ratstomper; Harry hates magic. He would not welcome you bringing this to him, but that does not mean we should not take the crystal to the Underground. We will be safer in the Underground. And perhaps Harry will have a solution to the problem Certainly he has survived where younger, more stubborn orks have perished ''

Kham knew the dig was meant to undermine him in front of the others, something he couldn't allow He whipped out an arm, caught a handful of Scatter's rags, and dragged her from her seat Of necessity, she collapsed to her knees in front of him 'Dis ain't Harry's run,' he growled 'Now, I know ya got good ears, ratface And I know ya already heard me, but I'm gonna say it one more time anyway We ain't taking da rock back ta da Underground It's too dangerous ' He let go and the rat shaman scrambled back to her seat They rode in silence for several minutes, Kham aware of the glances shooting back and forth among the orks He was also aware that the catboy avoided eye contact with any of them The Weeze was the first to break the silence

'Can't nde around forever, either ' Neko stretched, drawing attention to himself 'So we find a place to rest where we can hide the truck '' 'Where9' Ratstomper slapped the bench seat 'We been riding around for hours and nobody's come up with anything '

'Kham, you know that I am not familiar with Seattle's shadow world, but when I was conversing with Cog, he suggested that Mickey's Garage on Welbourne was a congenial establishment '

'No good,' Rabo said 'Mickey was hit by the Azzies the other night ' 'What9 When9'

' 'While we were humping our butts around the An-die dump '

'How da hell d'ya know dat?' Kham snapped

Rabo chuckled 'I told you this baby was a sweetie. Her 'puter's got a little program that swipes realtime updates from Shadowland Headline News But, you know, I been thinking about it, and I remembered an abandoned warehouse out near the reservoir in Puy-allup. The scuzboys from Forever Tacoma been using it for tumbles with the Black Rains. It's nice and quiet when the boys and girls ain't playing.'

Ratstomper guffawed. 'Real sudden interest in finding a place to park, Rabo. Could it be your butt's been planted too long, too?'

'Maybe I just got sympathy for the weak-minded.'

Ratstomper started to retort, but Kham cut her off.

'Anybody got outstanding problems wit da Eff-Tees or da Rains?' Nobody admitted to any, so Kham told Rabo, 'All right, den, dat's where we're going.'

Traffic made the trip long, though they encountered no trouble along the way. The Erf-Tees were in residence when they pulled up, so they had to negotiate. The big troll that was the gang's warlord took one look at Scatter and demanded she do some magic for them as the price of dossing down in the warehouse. 'I will do this for you,' Scatter said to Kham, clearly implying the need for repayment. She disappeared with the gangers for an hour or so, then came back grinning with self-satisfaction and bearing an armload of bags from the local Voodoo Chili franchise. Kham was too tired to care.

He shoveled in the stuff along with the rest of the guys, and watched them drop off one by one. The Eff-Tees were standing watch as part of the deal. Not the best security, but they'd do because nobody knew Kham and the guys were here. Before long, he too drifted off in a troubled sleep.

Some time later, he awoke. Something, a noise that didn't belong in the warehouse, had nudged him out of his dark dreams. Whatever he'd heard had stopped, but there were strange scents in the building. Befuddled by sleep, Kham couldn't place the vaguely familiar scents. Wary, he reached for his AK. Better armed than sorry.

A foot descended on his wrist, grinding it to the floor. The pain forced a snarl from him and he twisted over onto his side, but the effort only brought more pain as something swiped him across the temple. He fell back, the darkness lighting up with stars that weren't there. When he could focus again, Kham found himself staring at metal-armored legs. He looked up, a long, long way to the open maw of a tribarrel and further on to the tiny chrome-plated head beyond it. It was one of the metal guys. He'd seen their strength and knew that struggling wouldn't get him anywhere. He watched helplessly as a second metal man removed the AK. Once the weapon was out of Kham's reach, the first released him, gesturing for Kham to stand up.

There were only two of the cyberguys this time, but that was two too many, because once again they had the drop on Kham and the guys. In a matter of minutes all of them were clumped together under the metal men's guns. Kham noticed that the cyberguys kept most of their attention on Scatter, but he doubted the rough boys would have anything to worry about from the cringing rat shaman. He also didn't believe that the cyberguys' preoccupation would offer even a halfway decent chance to make a break. There was nothing to do but wait.

While one of their chrome-plated captors kept watch, the other went over to the control box on the front wall and opened one of the bay doors. A few seconds later a long silver limousine rolled in, followed by a trio of dark vans. Two of the four vehicles had to bump over the bay boundaries into the next one in order to fit; their companion vehicles and the orks' truck pretty much filled the first bay.

None of the vehicles carried any insignia, but the cleanliness and uniformity screamed corporate. The men and women who climbed out of the vans were as corporate as their vehicles: all wore identical, unmarked coveralls and flak vests and all carried identical weapons. As if those overchromed rough boys needed more goons as back-up. Kham gave his attention to the limo; that was where his future lay. The big shot inside would decide.

The car had halted with its front bumper nearly touching the gathered orks. Its interior was unknowable behind polarized glass. After a moment, however, its rear doors opened to reveal a dapper norm getting out from the near side. Kham had never seen this suit before, but there was no mistaking the uptown finery and the air of habitual and utter authority that clung to him. The suit smiled pleasantly at him, but Kham wasn't in the mood to

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