Robert Charrette - Find your own truth

"Neg. Don't want to tangle with the Herbstgeists." Hart had been afraid that the meres would have that reaction when they learned of the target. "I thought these guys were pros."

"They are, but even pros don't like getting killed. They're having second thoughts about the cost of the ticket."

The rigger was worried, or else she wouldn't have bestirred herself to climb to Hart's observation point. "What about you, Willie?"

Willie shrugged. "I know why we're doing it. They don't."

"You didn't answer my question." Willie rubbed her palms across the datajacks on either temple. The induction pads on her hands rasped slightly as they slid over the chromium steel ports. "I could wish I was rigging a full panzer instead of a stripped-down whizzer. But I ain't gonna back out." "I'm glad you're still in, Willie. Don't know a rigger I'd rather trust to get us up there."

Willie deliberately looked away. Hart could see her jaw working. After a while, the rigger reached a hand into her belt-slung sack and fished out a can of Kanschlager. "Want a beer?" "No, thanks."

"Didn't think so, but thought I should offer." She popped the top and upended it over her head. Not a drop missed her upturned mouth. The can drained, she replaced it in her sack and burped. "Watch out for Georgie. He did a run with a Herbstgeist squad in forty-eight." "Thanks. I will."

Hart gave Willie the opportunity to say more, but the rigger seemed to have said all she was willing to say. Maybe she didn't have more than a suspicion. Maybe she knew about Georgie, because she had been involved in that same run and had her own secrets to hide. The first seemed more likely. Willie wasn't the type to get involved with the Herbstgeists, even though many of their soldiers were of her metatype. They stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, Willie growing increasingly restive.

At last she said, "Whizzer needs a check if we're gonna ride tonight."

"Want some help?" Hart asked, already knowing the answer.

"Neg."

Hart watched Willie crunch back down the path. When the rigger passed from sight, Hart turned and looked back across the valley to the castle. Just what she needed, more complications. She hoped Sam was right, and they had time before Spider's agents made the scene.

Sam smiled as he sang.

The dancers circled the shamans gathered at the center. Each dancer gripped the hand of the person to either side, fingers interlocked. They rocked forward when they stamped, and swayed back when they brought their trailing feet forward. Their hands swung in arcs as they moved through the steps.

The dance gathered speed.

Neko Noguchi was a loner, and he liked it that way. At least when it came to doing biz. Partners either got in the way or weren't where you needed them when you needed them. In his experience, it was far better to rely on yourself. That way, you always knew where you stood. Being new to the trade, Neko might not have much of a rep; but it was a good one. And it was a solo rep.

So why had the American elf and his partners sent this woman to work with him?,

Striper was her street name a more reliable tag than the one on her travel documents and she moved with the grace and economical motion of a great hunting cat. She had followed the contact protocols scrupulously, which suggested that she was a pro. Her stride, artfully concealed weaponry, and alertness said the same. From her swagger Neko might have thought her a razorguy, but he could detect no sign of cybernetic enhancements. The synopsis he had bought from Cog said only that she was top-notch talent. Lacking chrome, she would have to rely on magic for her edge, and that was pushing reliability.

Even if she was a legitimate agent of the American elf, Neko didn't see why she was necessary on this run. If the work was done properly, there would be no need for muscle. He thought his performance record in the investigations he had undertaken for the elf was satisfactory. What had prompted this display of low confidence now?

"Caution." Striper smiled slyly at him as she ran her right index finger up and down along the left side of her nose. Though the room was dimly lit, her eyes were hidden behind chrome shades whose earpieces were brindled tortoiseshell. He wished he could see the expression in them. "You looked concerned about why I'm here. I'm just muscle for this run, in case."

Abandoning his pose of complete casualness, Neko removed his feet from the low table between their chairs. He had not thought that his face or body language would betray his concern. Perhaps they hadn't. She might have enhancements, more subtle than most, that let her gauge people more easily. While useful in many circumstances, such capabilities would not be of prime value on this run. "I can handle myself."

She laughed shortly; the sound was almost a cough. "It's the warlord's boys the principal is worried about."

"I can handle them, too."

"Like to see that."

He was beginning to find her arrogance annoying. "I do not care for you to."

She shrugged. "Tough. I took a contract, and I'm not defaulting on it for your ego." "He doesn't trust me, then." She took a flat, dark metal case from a pouch on her belt. Flipping it open, she selected a thin brown cigarillo and lit it from the hot spot on the case. She toked, held the smoke in for a moment, then blew it out in a thick stream before saying, "Never said so." "Words aren't always necessary. Your presence is that statement."

Taking another toke, she blew smoke at the ceiling. "If you say so." ' 'What if I left you behind?'' "You can run. I'll run faster." She seemed to have complete confidence that he could not escape her. Her assuredness was sobering; Hong Kong was his hunting ground, not hers. Until he knew what resources she could call on, he would have to be cautious. "Then I^n condemned to your help." She nodded.

"I hope, at least, that you're well informed about the mission."

"Tell me again. They might have forgotten something,"

"I'll keep it short," he said sharply. He knew she was testing him, and he didn't like it. But it was all part of the biz. He put on a good face. "Across the strait in Kungshu, there's a man. Han is the name he goes by. Han is a wealthy man, a powerful man. The shadows speak of him as one of the new warlords. This is a fair evaluation in many ways because, like most warlords, he dreams of uniting China again, with himself as her leader, of course. The comparison breaks down, because this man might actually succeed. Recently Han has taken on a new advisor, a mysterious mage who works under the name Nightfall. Nightfall claims to have been privy to some of the secrets of the old Shui regime, and to prove it she has informed Han that his holdings include a missile complex armed with nuclear weapons." She interrupted him. "Gonna use it?" Neko snorted. "Does one use a cannon to hunt field mice?"

"I don't," Striper said flatly. "And neither does he. On the advice of his most favored advisor, he holds the weapons in reserve. The obvious conclusion is that he awaits a time when the weapons may be employed, either actually or as a threat, to improve his position. Han is a canny fellow. He will wait until it is to his best advantage."

"He can't wait forever." She stubbed out her cigarillo. "Word gets out, the corps will scratch him."

"I would not care to wager the world on their altruism, which is why we have been hired to neutralize the weapons. You have brought the device the elf said would do the job?"

She nodded and patted the satchel that lay on the table between them. "Got a route in?"

Of course he did, but a second body would complicate matters. If he was going to have to work with her, he'd need a better understanding of her capabilities and how she thought. It was time for him to shift the initiative a little, and there was an obvious test to hand. "Step over to the telecom, and I'll call up the data I have gathered on the site. Perhaps you can find a weakness that has escaped me."