The Ratking didn’t bat an eye. ‘That wasn’t on the manifest.’
‘It is now,’ I said.
We stared at each other before he nodded begrudgingly. He scanned his biometrics to unlock the stashroom door before ushering me in. The room was cluttered with workstations, piled high with burners, tubes, cartons and chemicals. The Ratking made his own supply, it seemed. ‘We’re overstocked on synthsilver,’ the Ratking was saying. ‘I’ll give you a discount if you buy in bulk. Just don’t shoot up here. Some guy tried that, nearly OD’d in my shop.’
But I wasn’t listening. I could already smell the sickly-sweet stench of stormtech, the canisters concealed under the floor somewhere. The metallic, almost blood-like smell of synthsilver, the lemony-tang of grimwire, the musky, herbal stink of bluesmoke. Had to be millions worth of Commoners stored up in here.
I untangled myself from the arousing senses and noticed the room. The wall-fibres were erect and quivering, like their hackles were raised. The pulse pounding of the speakers was slowly escalating to a volume I felt vibrating in my bones. He’d become suspicious.
And that’s when I heard the clickclickclick of internal machinery churning.
I snatched up the workstation and held it to my chest as a mass of supercharged fibres came spitting out like hot spears. They thudded through the workstation, the hot, squirming tips inches from my face. Teeth gritted, I hurled the workstation towards the Ratking, the edge smashing into his kneecap, shattering the bone with a sharp crack. He screamed and tumbled to the floor, then groaned, crawling forward on his elbows. My body throbbed with warning as I dragged him back, his hand outstretched. He’d almost activated the self-destruct sequence that would have shredded all evidence in the room.
Almost.
I pressed my fingers hard into his throat, letting him know what would happen if his skinroom tried to play any more tricks on me. One-handed, I jammed Grim’s membrane-thin override passkey into the computer system. The fibres on the wall growled like dogs, but didn’t fire. The pulse continued pounding, echoing furiously through the room until I could barely think. ‘Deactivated the self-defence mechanisms,’ Grim told me. ‘You don’t have to worry about dangerous hairs anymore.’
‘Good to know.’ Keeping the Ratking in view, I locked the office and shop doors before returning. The walls began heaving back and forth, in synchronisation with his chest. ‘I’m not an expert,’ I told him, making no effort to be gentle as I dumped him into his armchair, ‘but killing your customers can’t be good for business.’
‘You back-stabbing dog,’ Montenegro spat at me. ‘We had an agreement. We own this floor, every damn metre of it. You’re going to cop hell for this.’
He thought I was from a rival stormdealer gang. Didn’t realise I was Harmony. I could swing that to our advantage.
‘Shut up. You don’t talk unless you’ve got something useful to tell me.’ I jabbed a thumb at the flexiscreen, and the mainframe tethered to it by a string of ribbed cables.
Montenegro scowled, no doubt imagining all the gory ways he’d hack me apart, but held his silence. I couldn’t resist messing with him. ‘Shipping routes, perhaps? Crimson Star Industries? Stashhouses you’ve been using on chainships?’
More scowling.
‘Come, come, now,’ I said, leaning close, ‘don’t tell me everything. I can’t possibly take it all in.’
Montenegro spat at me, the thick glob of saliva landing straight in my eye. The stormtech rolled down into my clenching fist. With effort, I unclenched it and tore myself away before I did something I’d regret. ‘You move and you’re dead,’ I told him, as much for his own sake as mine. I smeared the saliva away. If he made any sudden movements or came at me my body would react defensively, and I didn’t trust I could control my own strength.
Or maybe I didn’t want to hold back? Montenegro here was one of the top dogs. Wasn’t like anyone owed him any sympathy. Keeping one eye on him, I called Kowalski. ‘Got our prize pig here, awaiting your knife and fork.’
‘Good work, Vak.’ I could hear the relief in her voice. But it was a different kind of relief, too. ‘Is he secure?’
I glanced down at his shattered knee. ‘He’ll have to break a leg to get out of here.’
If looks could kill, his glower would have skewered me. Kowalski took me at my word. ‘We’ll be there soon.’ I disconnected from her and waited for Grim to continue trawling through the local files before anyone got too curious and realised the Ratking was compromised.
My hope didn’t last long.
‘We may have a problem,’ Grim told me.
I winced. It’s never a good thing when Grim says that. ‘What?’
‘The databanks are biometrically locked to our stormdealer, requiring a direct neural transmission to open.’
‘Are you telling me this wanker loves his body so much he’s encoded the system to his brain?’
‘Yeah. Before you lose your temper and go smashing his skull open for it, it still wouldn’t work. He needs be alive. You kill him, his wetware implant starts to cannibalise itself. I can’t do a thing remotely.’
I cursed under my breath. Just when I thought we were making headway.
‘You leave now, I’ll give you my stash for free,’ Montenegro offered.
‘I thought I told you to shut it,’ I growled.
‘No one has to know. Let’s work something out.’ Montenegro made as if to lever himself upwards, forgetting his injury and collapsing to the ground in pain.
I grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and shoved him back into his seat. ‘You open your mouth again without being asked, I’ll go for your second knee. And don’t try to play me. Every phial is counted. If so much as one is misplaced, people are going to know you screwed them over. You’re just stalling.’ A smile spread over my face. ‘There’s something in the room you
