“Multiple stab wounds, according to the doc. He wanted to know if we were related. I said yes, but not close. He didn't appear that concerned.”
“Skeev probably didn't have any relatives here. He was Scattered twice, remember?”
Garfield made a sort of exploding motion with his hands. “Based on context, it looks like some kind of involuntary relocation. Skeev maybe nowhere near where he was born.”
“Huh.” I stared into space for a moment, thinking about that. “So if someone does something to attract the Administrators attention, they get Scattered. Relocated.”
“Or even a whole town? But why?”
“I guess it depends on the motivations.”
“As in ‘what defines uppity’?”
“Like that, yes.”
“Seems like an odd sort of punishment,” Bill said.
“If that's what it is,” Bridget replied. “Maybe the point is just isolate troublemakers.”
An uneasy silence settled over the table as we wrestled with the idea. A billion miles of river over which to randomly relocate someone. It made banishment to Australia look like a walk around the block.
I looked up as I received a ping from my roamer. “Uh, guys. Someone's broken into our apartment.”
“What? How do you know this?”
I explained to Bill about the roamer and he made a gesture of helplessness. “Was that necessary? If with the leave in a hurry, you won't be able to get your roamer back.”
“Yeah, I know. I just…” I stopped as I acquired the roamer’s video stream. “Hmm. I expected the proprietor, or maybe one of his children or something. Not four rather ugly looking individuals with weapons, and they aren't being subtle.”
“That doesn't sound like a B&E,” Bridget said.
“No, it looks more like a home invasion,” I replied, “except no one was home.”
Garfield swept an eye quickly around the pub. “Interestingly, there are at least two individuals paying more attention to us than seems reasonable. I think we’ve been made. My guess would be whatever group messed up Skeev.”
“And who we then messed up,” I replied. “And who maybe want to return the favor.”
“I don't see any other reason for them to care one way or another about us.
“Unless it’s the second group. They are probably not fans either.”
“Hmm.” I nodded at Bridget's comment and carefully didn't look around the pub. “Shall we go? See what happens?”
“Remember, no superhuman shenanigans,” Bridget said.
We rose casually and headed for the door. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that several Quinlans picked that moment to leave also. Maybe coincidence? Probably not.
“Hey Gar, are any of those people you notice now suddenly leaving as well?”
“Yep. I predict interesting times ahead.”
“Do we recognize any of them from yesterday?”
Garfield was silent for a moment, then said, “Yes, I see one individual who was with the third group. Resistance?”
Wonderful. Which meant they might have more of those guns. And very probably had more bodies to throw at us.
We exited the pub and turned to head back to our hotel room. I could hear feet behind us as multiple patrons also abandoned the Growling Guppy.
“Sounds like four sets of footsteps,” Bill said.
“I like those odds,” Bridget replied.
We turned a corner and my Spidey Sense went into overdrive. The block was deserted. I mean really deserted. In the middle of the day.
As we continued on our path of footsteps behind his came around the corner and at that moment another four Quinlans stepped out of doorways ahead of us.
“Wonderful. Classic encircling maneuver,” Bill said.
“And masterfully executed,” Garfield replied. “My complements to the Resistance.”
“And two-to-one odds are still accept - awwwww, shit.”
I was swearing a lot lately, but it seemed appropriate. The group surrounding us just pulled knives. Big knives. Real metal, from the look of them.
“I think we’re probably going to have to push the limits of what's possible for a Quinlan to get out of this one. Try not to cast fireballs, but most anything else is fair game.”
The thugs took their time forming a circle. They grinned at us and waived their knives in a menacing manner. I wasn't sure if they were just trying for psychological advantage, or wanted us to beg for our lives. Either way, they were going to be disappointed.
They attack simultaneously, jumping toward us more or less as a unit. I was impressed, despite myself. They either drilled together regularly, or they'd practiced this particular maneuver. Unfortunately, they weren’t dealing with real Quinlans.
I slid to the outside of the nearest knife thrust, grabbed the arm and rotated my body. My target spun around me and smacked headlong into the Quinlan beside him, but without his knife, which I'd appropriated during the maneuver. As the second attackers staggered under the impact, I smacked him on the side of the head. Punching didn't look like it would be a good idea with the Quinlans, more likely to break their haora without knocking them out, and I didn't want to do that kind of possibly permanent damage.
Number two went down as number one caught his balance and turned to me. A second smack and he was down. I spun around to see how my teammates were doing. Bill and Gar have used similar tactics, since we’d all taken the same self-defense courses. Bridget, however, didn't have any particular martial arts training. At least, based on a fighting style, which depended mostly on enthusiasm. She finished off her two attackers, then turned to glare at us.
“What was that?” Garfield said. “Cage-match-foo?”
“They’re down, aren't they?” She replied, concentrating her glare on him.
Garfield reached down and gathered the last two knives. “I think we may have a solution to our money problem. I’d bet these are worth mucho bucks. But not here. I’m pretty sure our welcome has just worn out in Galen. They’re after us, they don't appear to be interested in talking, and I bet they'll just keep throwing more and more bodies at us.”
“Great,” I said. I sent a silent command to my roamer to zero in on me. “Time for a swim, I guess.
I opened my mouth and the roamer crawled in. Garfield groaned and
