Robert Bennett - The Company Man

“We came here looking for the promised land,” Colomb continued. “We didn’t find it. This place chewed us up and spat us back out. We’re not looking to Mr. Tazz for a general, Mr. Hayes. Not for someone to tell us who to hurt. Least, I don’t look at him like that. We just wanted someone to show us the way out of here. That ain’t so much, is it? And if he’s not going to help us, then who? You?” he said, nodding at Hayes.

Hayes said nothing. They continued through the tunnels and soon they heard the rattling of pipes and cars and trolleys. He figured they were perhaps thirty feet below the skin of the street. Maybe more.

“You’re closer to Mr. Tazz than others are, aren’t you?” Hayes asked.

“I guess.”

“And you perform a lot of his duties?”

Colomb shrugged.

“That’s how it works, isn’t it?” asked Hayes. “People do one small thing for this man they’ve never met. Ship a package. Open a door. And they don’t know who tells them to do it or why or what it’s going to do. They just blindly follow orders. And they all come from the top. Or nearabout.”

“You shut your mouth,” said Colomb.

Hayes smiled and closed his eyes and listened to the whine of anxiety that welled up inside the man. Suddenly Hayes smelled cool, smoky air and cold wind, and heard the clank and scream of an airship cradle about him. He did not open his eyes but still he saw the airship descending through the starry sky, its burnished belly black and glowing from the lights below. A massive thing that was almost alive.

Smooth and careful, said the man’s thought. Tomorrow night. Everyone does the transfer right or they don’t do it at all and then everything is lost. Everything, all of it.

Hayes opened his eyes. He and Colomb and Samantha were still trudging down the tunnel. Up ahead he saw ladder rungs and street light filtering through an opening.

“Here,” said Colomb. “Here’s where you go. Don’t ask me what street this is, I don’t know.”

“Fine,” said Hayes. “Should I go first or should you, Sam?”

Samantha sighed and began climbing up the rungs. Colomb studiously averted his eyes and stared at the floor. When she was up Hayes followed and Colomb stayed behind. Samantha bade him goodbye but he did not answer. Simply stood with the dimming lantern down in the underground, looking up at them. Then either he moved away or the light died. They could not tell.

Samantha and Hayes walked back through the streets. By their reckoning they were northeast of the Shanties. As they walked Samantha noticed Hayes was shivering. She was not sure if it was fear or if he was ill.

“Thank you for coming,” he said quietly.

Samantha did not answer.

“I was just worried. I knew I’d make it out of the meeting alive, but… but these past few weeks, I don’t know what’s going to happen. If I’m going to get up the next day or not. Something’s wrong with me. I’m… seeing and hearing things. This was important and someone else needed to hear it.”

“God,” said Samantha. “Just be quiet. Be quiet for once.”

“All right.”

They continued walking. Their legs were streaked with mud and their footsteps squelched as they walked.

“He knew Skiller,” said Samantha.

“Yes.”

“And he knew what you can do.”

“Yes,” said Hayes. “That’s something. Do you know how many people know about that that are still alive?”

“No.”

“To be honest, I don’t either. You could count them on one hand, I’d imagine. I think I got something useful out of Colomb, though. I picked it up very fast, I’m not sure why.”

“What was it?”

“He’s smuggling something out of the city tomorrow night,” Hayes said. “What, I don’t know. Where, I don’t know. I just know it’s by air, and it’s tomorrow.”

“Does it have anything to do with that machine?”

“No. I don’t think so.” He laughed bitterly and shook his head. “Did you see that thing on its corner? That lamp-thing?”

“I saw you staring at it.”

“Yes. Brightly showed me one a while back. Communication thingy. At the time he claimed that they weren’t due out for at least a year. And when they did come out, it would revolutionize the world. But when we saw Tazz’s device, there it was. They must have had working versions for years. If there was a revolution, I didn’t fucking notice. That thing doesn’t need miles of cable if it’s got a Sibling bleeping away on it. They must have every damn machine down there linked up the same way. I always knew they’d been keeping things from me, but I never knew how much.” He shook his head. “Sookie was right,” he said softly. “They don’t ever release anything unless they’ve already been using it.”

They turned down an alley to cut over to the canal road. They could see the lights of a tanker’s top deck crowning just above the buildings ahead as it slogged through the waters. It looked like a dreary little carnival spinning through the night sky, its strings of lights fluttering with the breeze.

“He seemed very composed,” said Samantha. “Mr. Tazz, I mean. He’s quite the orator.”

“An orator, maybe,” said Hayes. “But he wasn’t composed. I think he was absolutely terrified.”

“You could sense that?” she asked. “From that far away?”

“No. I just knew. I don’t have to have a gift to know when men are frightened.”

She thought for a second. “His cell actually was one-forty-five, though, Mr. Hayes. I remember.”

“Do you? Good for you.”

“But you said it was one-fifty-five.”

“Yes. I was just fucking him around. But I got what I wanted from him, didn’t I?”

“What do you think of it?”

“I think it troubles me very deeply.”

Samantha was about to ask why, but suddenly Hayes stopped where he stood. Then he turned around. “What?” she asked.

He shushed her and held up a hand, then turned to peer down the alley behind them.

“What?” she asked again.

He shook his head and took a step forward, still looking into the darkness.

Nothing moved. The alley was still except for the drip of water from an overhead fire escape. Then there was a whistling sound and something flew through the air, massive and heavy, and struck Hayes on the side of the head with a sharp crack. He fell to the ground, arms limp and crumpled underneath him.

Samantha shrieked and ran to him and turned him over. A river of blood began pouring from Hayes’s scalp, marking one eye, and he blinked drunkenly. “What was that?” he asked.

She looked on the ground beside him. A thick wrench lay on the cement, its handle dull red from where it had crushed the skin on his head. Then she heard feet pounding on the ground and out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. She turned just in time to see the big guard from before running up the alley toward them, and she tried to stand and run but he seized her arm and whirled her around and tossed her into a wall as though she were no more than a rag doll. The back of her head met brick and her whole body seemed to fall away from her. She slumped down to the cement, fingers uselessly searching for something to keep her upright.

She watched as the big man grunted and picked up Hayes and punched him three times in the face, all solid blows. Hayes tried to lift his hands to protect himself but the man threw him to the ground and savagely kicked him.

“Fucking pansy,” growled the guard. He stooped to pick Hayes up again, but somehow Hayes moved lightning-fast and his flick knife was suddenly buried in the side of the man’s arm up to the hilt. It happened so fast Samantha barely registered it, and she found herself wondering if the little ivory handle was just a bizarre ornament on the man’s coat. The guard roared in pain and slapped Hayes down and landed a solid kick on the side of his head. Hayes lay still, a curtain of his blond hair hiding his face from view, though it was now rosy with blood where it was close to his face.