“Thanks,” I said.
Warcry shook his head as we left the dumbfounded kid behind. “Those credits really burn a hole in your HUD, huh?”
I shrugged. “What was I going to use them for? I live in a tent in a jungle—I don’t have a lot of expenses.”
“You want to live in a tent in a jungle forever, ya moron? They let you use credits to buy property where you’re from, didn’t they? Or say you want to buy your way outta the Big Five someday and go straight? You can’t do that throwing away your money like it ain’t worth the digital space it takes up.”
“You can buy your way out of a gang?”
“That ain’t the point, grav. The point is you’re not thinking about the future.”
“I’m thinking about advancing to Ten,” I argued.
“That’s short-term, ain’t it.” He tapped the side of his head. “A fighter who thinks short-term ends up on the street just healthy enough to stay alive and just disabled enough to wish he’d die already. You gotta be thinking about where you’re gonna be in a decade or two.”
He was making a good point, but we both sort of lost the thread of the conversation as a beautiful six-armed woman walked past, holding the hands of the little girl and her rat-spider-dog thing we’d just saved from getting run over.
A set of glowing red crosshairs stood out over her face.
The bottom dropped out of my stomach as I stood there staring at this beautiful woman the Emperor wanted me to murder in front of her kid.
“Oi, grav.” Warcry’s elbow caught me on the messed-up side. I winced and squeezed my arm to the spot. “Put your eyes back in your head.”
He smiled and nodded at the woman as she passed us. She blushed and pulled her headscarf over the bottom half of her face. The little girl either didn’t realize we were the same guys who’d saved her rat thing or didn’t care. She ignored us as her mom dragged her past.
“She’s Sentenced to Death,” I whispered to Warcry.
He was still watching her go. “What’re you on about now?”
“The lady whose butt you’re staring at,” I said. “Emperor Takeshi marked her for death.”
That got his attention.
“What for?”
“It doesn’t come with an explanation,” I said, “just a target.”
“Are you sure?”
“Relax. I’m not doing it.”
Warcry looked like somebody was ripping his guts out and strangling him with them. Finally, he shook his head.
“’Course you’re not,” he said. “Not without a bloomin’ explanation.”
“Not with one, either.” I wouldn’t kill someone’s mom. There would probably be serious consequences for refusing, but I was ready to deal with whatever they were. This was the line, and I wasn’t crossing it.
Dance Hall Recon
BY THE TIME VALTHORPE, Smoky, and Unu had finished up with their in-town business, the sun was already setting, and only the wiry academic thought it would be a good idea to trek back through the jungle in the dark.
“We’ll lose a whole other day!” He threw his hands up.
Smoky slapped a big hand down on Valthorpe’s bony shoulder. “Accept it and find yourself a room, pal. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
Finding a room wasn’t a big deal. There were hotels and saloons with rooms all over the place—you just had to pay the rental fee, plus the saloon gal’s fee, even if you wanted her to leave you alone for the night.
All of that just seemed to annoy Valthorpe more.
“I’m going to find somewhere quiet a man can think!” he snapped, storming out of the lobby.
That set the hooligans off like it was the funniest thing that had ever happened.
“He’ll just have to pay when he gets back,” Smoky said.
“Ah, Val’s just buying time,” Unu said, squeezing his saloon gal to his side. She brushed a few flakes off her shoulder, but otherwise pretended not to care. “He wants us to be in bed when he gets back so we won’t know he bought the Companion package instead of the Do Not Disturb package. Makes him feel superior.”
I paid off the saloon gal assigned to my room, which set Smoky and Unu off again.
“Look at the Death brat blush!” Smoky howled, stabbing a huge banana finger at me.
I slapped his hand out of my face.
“Change his mind, girly,” Unu hooted.
Luckily, with the Do Not Disturb credits in her account, she wasn’t interested in hanging around listening to their crap. She headed off into the bar to pick up somebody else.
Warcry glared down at the black snooze screen of his HUD, then told the saloon gal waiting on him, “Get us a table and some drinks, lovey. A pitcher of dark and whatever you’re having.”
I nodded goodnight to him and headed upstairs, the hooligans yelling insults at my back.
The room was small—about the size of my tent—but thankfully clean, and the open second-story window let in a decent breeze. I messaged Kest, but she didn’t get back to me right away. Sometimes she got a couple hours sleep before her shop-guarding shift, so I didn’t worry about it.
There wasn’t any running water to the room, just a bucket on a washstand. I washed up with that to get ready for bed. I was drying my face when my Winchester buzzed with a message.
My excitement turned to dust when I saw it was from Sanya-ketsu, not Kest.
The Emperor wants to know why your condemned target is still alive.
I’m not killing a girl, I told her.
You don’t know what she’s done.
It doesn’t matter.
Sanya sent back, She won’t feel the same compunction if her Shogun tells her to kill you.
Good, I replied.
It was almost ten minutes before Sanya got back to me after that. I spent the time pacing while Sushi stalked a centipede around the boots I’d left sitting by the washstand.
When it popped up, Sanya’s message stopped me in my tracks.
She’s working with the Jianjiao. Some old friends you might recognize.
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