Still, there was a ladder ahead, and they’d walked far enough that Jan didn’t want to risk looking for another one. He dropped the glow stick to find the others piled up behind him, waiting for guidance. He had no answers. What he did have, now, was fifteen hours until torture nanos made his life hell.
And what he did not have was Bharat.
08: Marquis
Though Jan wasn’t quite sure how they managed it, everyone made it back to the Hole, in Duskdale, before morning. Rafe had purchased them an empty building on the east side to use as a base (with Bharat’s money), but given Rafe was now missing and possibly interrogated, going to that building seemed a poor idea. Whoever had abducted Rafe might be waiting in ambush there.
After some cajoling, Kinsley had reluctantly agreed the safest place for everyone to hole up was her own hole in the Hole. Jan now had six hours before the torture nanos inside him forced him to eat his own gun. Worse yet, Emiko kept glancing at him like she knew something was wrong, even though Kinsley was the only one he’d actually told.
He would have to inform the others about his affliction. He couldn’t have them freaking out when he finally stuck a pistol in his mouth. He wouldn’t want someone trying to stop him.
Kinsley lounged in a battered beanbag chair in the corner of her single-room domicile, nursing a joint and high off her ass. Pollen sat on the floor in the corner, tank-killer balanced against her knees and pointed at the roof, while Emiko had temporarily departed to acquire the necessary resources everyone needed after a night like this one. Ice-cold beer.
“So,” Kinsley said, ashing the joint she clutched languidly in one hand. “Shall you tell Pollen, or shall I?”
“Tell me what?” Pollen asked, looking between them.
Jan sighed heavily. “I have six hours before recently injected torture nanos turn my life into unending agony. If we don’t find Bharat before that, I will end my life, on my terms, to avoid that torturous execution.”
“What?” Pollen shrieked. Her rifle tumbled to the ground as she stormed over and yanked Jan to his feet. “Why do you not tell me this? How do we fix it?” Her English always suffered when she was upset.
“We find this Bharat character,” Kinsley said from her beanbag. “Chill out, Pollen. Jan’s just being dramatic. We’ve got far more than six hours.”
“Um, no.” Jan stared at Kinsley and batted at Pollen’s arms until she set him down. “I have felt what those nanos will do to me.” Jan heard the half-hysterical edge in his voice, and he did not like it. “I cannot endure what they—”
“You won’t have to endure anything,” Kinsley interrupted, “because we’ll put you in a coma.”
Jan frowned. “What?”
“Inducing comas is easy,” Kinsley said. “I’ve done it once already, just to see what it was like.”
Jan stared at her. “You induced your own coma.”
“I was bored.” Kinsley shrugged. “Anyway, if we don’t find Bharat before six hours are up, we’ll just put you in a coma, hook you to some fluids, and leave you there.”
“Won’t those nanos kill him?” Pollen asked.
“Torture nanos don’t actually damage your tissue,” Kinsley explained patiently, “and though they do stimulate your pain sensors, you can’t be stimulated if you’re completely knocked out. An induced coma gives us time to find this Bharat character and compel him to reset your torture nanos. Politely.”
“When we find Bharat,” Pollen warned, eyes narrow and fists clenched, “we will see how polite we are.”
“A coma,” Jan breathed. All of a sudden, he felt a lot better about not dying. “You, Kinsley, are a genius.”
“I know.” She took a long drag from her glowing joint, then blew a trail of smoke as long as Pollen’s rifle. “Now, as to the matter of actually finding Bharat—”
“We will need a bounty hunter,” Jan interrupted, mind spinning up once more. “And since we now have Emiko’s numerous bank accounts to draw upon, we should hire the best.” He glanced at Kinsley. “Get on the Network and get me Kaliden Toth.”
Kinsley breathed out a trail of colorful smoke. “Toth’s dead.”
Jan took a moment to process. “What?”
“He died on some Supremacy black op three years ago, right before the armistice,” Kinsley said. “Took off with Shiva, Big Phil, and the Kid. All four of them were KIA.”
“Damn,” Jan whispered. Kaliden Toth had been a stone-cold badass, so whoever managed to kill him and three of his best bounty hunters must have been five kinds of brutal. “No one knows who took them down?”
“Nope,” Kinsley said. “The Supremacy did send the bodies back, though, which was thoughtful of them.”
Jan tapped his chin. “If we can’t have subtle, we can still get the best.” Assuming the best didn’t blow anything up immediately. “Contact Freyja.”
“On vacation,” Kinsley said.
Jan processed once more. “What?”
“Did I stutter?” Kinsley sounded like she was genuinely asking.
“But ... vacation?” Jan shook his head and glanced at Pollen for help. “Freyja doesn’t take vacations.”
“Well, she did,” Kinsley said. “Been off the Network at least two weeks.”
“When’s she getting back?”
Kinsley took another long drag of her glowing joint. She didn’t answer. So who did that leave?
“Jimmy Flaregun?” Jan asked.
“Commercial shuttle crash, one year ago,” Pollen chimed in. “Sixty-four casualties, including Jimmy.”
Kinsley waved her free hand in the air, drawing lazy circles. “That’s why I never fly commercial.”
“What about Klamenski?” Jan asked.
“Choked on a steak bone,” Kinsley said.
“The Crimson Falcon?”
“Out of the game,” Pollen said. “She races hoverbikes now. Married Randy Mercury, champion of the Star’s Landing Circuit. They have two adorable little kids.”
Jan looked between Pollen and Kinsley.
