Robert Charrette - Never trust an elf

From the back of the group, Rabo asked, "Hey, Greerson, what was with those critters anyway? Why'd they attack like that?''

"How the hell should I know? What do I look like? A parabiologist?''

Neko took the opportunity and suggested, "Maybe you've got an explanation, Johnson-saw."

The elf shrugged. "Magical operations sometimes rouse the local wildlife into an unreasoning rage."

Rabo nodded as if he understood. "And that's why you wanted all the firepower."

"It seemed a reasonable precaution," the elf agreed.

"An expensive one," Greerson said. "Cost-effective, Johnson?"

The elf's look of disdain shifted to one of distaste. "That is not your concern. Our association is terminated." He turned toward his vehicle.

"So you're just buzzing," said the raven-haired cy-berboy.

"And leaving us here?" concluded his buddy.

The elf replied over his shoulder. "Your companions' vehicle is large enough to get all of you back to Seattle in reasonable comfort, especially now that you've got one less ork."

Neko sensed the reaction in the orks, saw their tenseness. He spoke before any of them could. "A cold-blooded evaluation, Johnson-saw."

"Practical, Mr. Neko. As anyone who works the shadows must be." For no apparent reason other than that Neko had been the last to speak, Mr. Johnson tossed him a datadisk. "If you are prompt in returning to Seattle, you will be able to reenter with your vehicle through the disrepaired section of the wall in the Ta-coma district. You may expect the Council border guards to be distracted at four-fifteen this morning, thus leaving several of the old roads open. I can't be sure how long that condition will endure, but you should have at least a thirty-minute window.''

Neko handed the disk to Rabo. "We are supposed to trust your word on this, Johnsonian? "

"As you think prudent," Johnson replied, his back to the group and not deigning to turn toward them.

"Wouldn't do his bosses' operation any good if we were picked up." Greerson's comment was directed at the other runners but clearly meant as a warning to Johnson. The elf continued toward his vehicle, then climbed into it. The other elves must have already boarded, for they were nowhere in sight. The engine started with a barely perceptible sound, then even that was silenced as the stealth spell was reactivated. The vehicle pulled away, leaving the runners with little choice but to leave as well.

For a few moments, however, no one moved. The cyberboys stepped away from the group, each plugging one end of a double-ended datacord into a jack on his temple, linking for a private conference. Most of the orks looked at one another, then at Kham. Their leader ignored them, wandering about, gathering up pieces of the late John Parker's equipment. There was not enough of John Parker to pick up.

Greerson looked at the sky. "Just about time to get to Tacoma if we leave now."

"We leave when Kham's ready," Rabo told him. There was an awkward few minutes in the clearing until Kham finally gave the order to get under way. The back of the Rover was cramped, but the elf was right; there was room for all of them since there was one less ork than had set out. The orks were subdued and showed none of their usual rowdiness, which Neko realized he missed. Shadowrunning wasn't supposed to be glum. It was supposed to be the adventure of a lifetime, a testing of one's skills, with survival the prize. If that was the measure, then they had done well, for most of the team had survived.

Greerson also seemed to find the silence unsatisfactory. He mumbled a bit to himself after failing to get the attention of the raven-haired cyberboy, then addressed the group in general. "This run was easy enough. We made meat out of a few animals and that was it. Didn't have to face any real opposition. I'd say we were really overgunned out here."

"John Parker died." Kham voice was hollow. The dwarf shrugged. "Everybody dies sooner or later."

"Per a stinking elf rock."

"Rock's not what was important," Greerson said.

"Those elves are playing games with themselves. Somebody somewhere is going to be upset that our twosome has got that rock."

"How do you know that?" asked Neko. The dwarf eyed him, evaluating his curiosity. "You don't know, you don't need to know. Just as well. Sometimes it's better not to know what you get involved in."

Kham growled deep in his throat. "And what ya die fer?"

"You're really hung up on that, aren't you, tusker?" "Leave him alone, halfer," Sheila snapped. "You prefer I pick on you?" "Yeah." Her grin exposed her upper tusks as well as the lower.

Greerson folded his arms and cocked his head back to survey the roof of the Rover. "Well, too bad. I ain't the least bit interested in you, sow." Sheila lunged at him.

Kham caught her by the arm, holding her back from reaching the dwarf. Neko saw that the dwarf had been expecting her attack-naked steel jutted from his forearms, shining blades that would have gutted Sheila as she closed. In the close quarters of the vehicle, Sheila's size would have been a disadvantage against the compact dwarf. Greerson was also heavily augmented. Though Sheila was an ork, she was virgin of the cybernetics that would have given the dwarf further advantage in a fight.

Sheila let Kham quiet her down, and the Rover proceeded on its bumpy way. After a while the dwarf started up again. "Maybe the elves was expecting more trouble. Must have been; they hired me, after all. Rest of you are probably just as glad no real opposition showed up. That way you didn't have to face real problems. Especially you orks. You guys were pathetic out there in the woods. Don't you ever see trees in Orktown?"

Sheila growled and Kham elbowed her.

"Hey, tusker, let the girl talk. She needs to express herself."

"Didn't you get enough killing?" The Weeze asked Greerson.

"The dracoforms? You got to be kidding. They're just animals. Where's the sport in that?"

"You kill for sport?" Neko asked him.

"Me? Hell, no. I'm in it for the money. That's why this was a good run. Easy money."

"Easy money?" Kham said incredulously. "Not fer John Parker. Never again fer John Parker."

The hall was as riotous as ever and Kham almost felt relaxed. The running and shouting kids made a lot of noise, and the noise filled a void in him. John Parker had been the first of his runners, and somehow his death was different from those that had occurred on other runs. Not that any of the losses were trivial. A ringleader had to take care of his crew, had to, or he wasn't going to hold on to a crew worth anything. The first law of the streets was that you took care of your own. He'd learned that in the gangs.

Gorb and Juan had died on one of his runs, but he hadn't taken it as hard as this time. He had done his duty by them and taken in their widows and kids. They all lived in the hall now, a part of the tumult that made the place home. Now Kham would also have to look after Guido and the rest of John Parker's brood, at least until they could make their own way on the street.

Lissa emerged from the kitchen and chased the kids outside, telling them to take advantage of the dry weather. With winter coming, there wouldn't be many more nice days. She smiled at Kham, a sign of her improved attitude since he had turned over the cred-stick from the elves' run. Less to worry about, he supposed.

They were set for awhile, although he, too, had been worried about getting paid for the run. That worry nagged at him even after Rabo pumped the access codes for the certified cred memos on Johnson's disk.

Elves were known for paying with fairy gold, phantom credit that wasn't there when you tried to spend it. Not until Kham got word from his fixer that the transfer had gone through was he satisfied that the creds were good. Well, as good as any Matrix money could be- what with all those cowboy deckers playing games out there.