When the Dust Fell, page 2
“I’m trying to do the right thing here, Lonny.”
“You and the right thing? Now, this is hilarious. Advice for an old friend: leave while the only holes on your head are the ones nature has given you.”
“Lonny, please. I need this.”
“I’m sorry, Kino,” he said in a tone that, to Kino, didn’t sound particularly regretful. “I cannot help you.”
“That’s your last word?”
The speaker was silent except for the soft, telltale hiss of a line still open. A sign that maybe the conversation wasn’t quite over.
“Okay, Lonny. I’ll take it to King George. Deeper pockets there anyway.”
He turned and headed back toward the long, stone stairs.
“You are wagering that we would let you off this island,” the speaker crackled.
Kino faced the doors, but remained where he was, closer to the stairs down than the doors in. He heard the gears of the camera refocusing the lens to its now more distant subject.
“If I walk down these stairs right now, we’re both betting, aren’t we? And I can get on and off this rock anytime I want.”
The hiss continued.
“Perhaps I should understand the quid pro quo,” Lonny finally answered. “It might help in my decision process.”
Kino looked around him before answering. He didn’t see any of the lookouts or security guns that might make a run for it impossible. “You let me in, old friend, and I’ll forget that you almost didn’t.”
“Asshole.”
Asshole was good. It wasn’t “fuck off” or even “goodbye.” “Asshole” was merely a statement of fact. So, even though the intercom had clicked off completely, its hiss gone abruptly silent, Kino pictured Lonny making his way from the monitor station to the doors, the three US silver dollars the doorkeeper always kept in his pocket jangling all the way. Sure enough, a minute later he heard the heavy bolt from the top lock shoot back into its metal cradle. Then the middle lock and, a beat later, the bottom. The door opened a few inches, enough for him to see the shapes of Lonny’s eyes and his bright, white smile emerge from the dark skin around them and the much darker gloom of the entranceway.
“He hasn’t shot anyone today, yet,” Lonny said with mock cheer as he swung the door open wide. “Please, come in.”
Kino stepped into the large, stone-clad entrance. It wasn’t much warmer than the outside temperature, and other than the soft light coming in from the rotunda, it was dark as hell.
“Running low on bulbs?” Kino asked as he surveyed the hall.
“Lights are for guests.”
Lonny slammed the door shut and shot the bolts back home one by one. When he was done, he turned to Kino. “Arms out.”
Kino spread his arms and the doorkeeper gave him a quick patting. He took the phone out of Kino’s jacket pocket, looked it over disinterestedly, and slid it back in place.
“You know the rules, Kino. Straight back, no detours. I am well aware of your sticky hands.”
“Fingers, Lonny. Sticky fingers.”
Lonny smiled slowly and hit Kino hard in the gut. It was a perfectly timed sucker punch and Kino doubled over, surprised by the blow and embarrassed to be surprised. Especially by Lonny, who’d see any screw up by Kino as a win.
“Jesus, Lonny!” he coughed.
“Old friend, why must you always prove my point?” Lonny gently grabbed Kino by the shoulders and got him standing straight again. “Enjoy the game. And please do not vomit on his carpets. They’re new.”
Kino slowly made his way through the large, unfurnished hall toward the rotunda and beyond it, to the mayor’s office. Before, the room was home to dozens of desks and their occupants doing city business. Now it was a heavily guarded buffer zone that shielded the mayor’s office from the street entrance. The city work attended to in this hall had died three years ago with the city itself. Now Kino was walking through the makeshift Court of Manhattan Kingdom, government seat to a semi-feudal city-state, one of hundreds that formed after the Correction set the clock of civilization back half a millennium.
He counted how many guns he could see as he walked. Eight, ten, twelve. He counted the number of computers. Zero. When he was a boy, he dreamed of flying cars. He got the Middle Ages instead.
For New York City, they had arrived via the Midtown Tunnel, in a caravan of Streets and Sanitation trucks stolen from the outer boroughs and jury-rigged with black-market RPGs. The two hundred trucks and the army they carried had required just three days to take city hall. It was crazy. So was the man in charge.
Tom Nader, lacking any real moral compass beyond one that pointed to his own desire for power, had been far more willing to kill in his quest for control than the depleted and exhausted NYPD had been in its mission to keep it. Nader was a man who knew an opportunity when he saw one. And, as far as Kino could tell, the mayor had never missed one since.
Actually, in the days right before Nader’s army swept into town, it didn’t take a shark’s nose to smell blood in the water. Everyone picked it up. Too much had already happened. The discovery of the ship, the Twenty-One-Hour War, and the cheap shots from Russia. Three big ones that left a radioactive hole in the middle of North America that couldn’t be crossed in either direction. It didn’t take long before the U in US stood for Unraveled. Russia’s nuclear scumbaggery was almost the least of the problems. The Correction had been the white-hot match to the soft, dry wood that undergirded the global order. Modern life and everything that had held it together went up too fast to even run for the buckets.
It was only a matter of time before a Tom Nader would come along.
After the smoke had cleared and the bodies were picked up, a kind of resignation had set in. If the National Guard had been too leaderless to help, if the Congress and the Cabinet had all locked themselves behind the doors of their summer homes, if even the military had left its post and torched its own vast armory to keep its contents from joining the coming chaos, then someone had to establish order. Sure, Tom Nader was a sociopath, but he made sure the power was on in most places, made sure the water ran, and made sure enough people could eat.
His only price? Total control. “Deal,” said the desperate residents of Manhattan. For most of human history it had been kings, emperors, and queens. He was simply one more. Hours after the last of the police had given up, the tunnels and bridges in and out of the city were transformed into armed border crossings. Nothing and nobody went in or out without knowing the right people, blowing the right people, or paying the right people. Manhattan had become an island in every sense of the word. Still, given all that had happened, it wasn’t the worst that could’ve occurred. If a person tried hard enough, he could still find booze.
Kino touched his pocket again, making sure the phone hadn’t fallen out when Lonny’s welcome punch bent him in half. The door to the mayor’s office couldn’t be missed. It was at the end of the main hall, surrounded by four men and four machine guns.
“Gents,” Kino said casually as he approached.
“Kino,” said the biggest. “Long time.”
“Maybe not long enough,” he replied straight faced.
They laughed, and Kino pushed through the doors.
The mayor’s office was much as he remembered: palatial, with a soaring barrel-vaulted ceiling and a tall dentil-notched mahogany crown between it and the paneled walls. Ornate carpets covered the parquet floors. Nader’s staff was scattered about the room. Two guards were standing along the back wall behind the desk facing the door. On the big leather sofa were two women who looked to be around Kino’s age, mid-thirties, both Asian, both beautiful. In a large chair next to the desk slouched a long-legged man with gray hair and a tired face. Kino didn’t recognize any of them.
Nader himself was perched on the leading edge of the seven-foot-long desk, his signature mirror-finished Smith & Wesson 686 in his left hand. He wore what would have been a six-thousand-dollar suit Before. A blue chalk-stripe, two-button. His dark brown shoes were polished. He was trim and well groomed, slightly tanned, and looking not a day older since Kino had last seen him. Was he fifty? Sixty? Kino had never known. It had never mattered.
The most important things to know about Nader were that his patience was nonexistent, his temper misleadingly controlled, and his shot never missed. It always hit its target precisely between the eyes, exactly centered. Dead center, Nader called it. Also, Nader was smart. Perhaps the smartest person Kino had ever known. Smarter, he knew, than any of the other kings. The plus that was also a minus. But the matter of The List outweighed all cons, which was why Kino had risked standing on the mayor’s new carpets, waiting for Nader to start the game.
The mayor looked at Kino, his two-toned stare expressionless. It was a long look. When he finally spoke, he didn’t move a muscle.
“Ten seconds.”
“Thanks for seeing me, Tom.”
“A foolish waste of two seconds.”
Kino took a breath and chose to ignore the finger flick to the nuts of his courage.
It’s just Shove One, Kino told himself. Nothing more than a tactic. He squared his stance and plowed forward.
“I can get us some really big guns.”
“Stop.” Nader’s voice was calm, soft, without urgency, as if he knew none was needed. “Let’s be clear, Kino. There’s no ‘us’ in whatever you’re about to say. Not anymore.”
“Okay, sure, Tom. You, then. I can help you get your hands on some guns…guns I know you need.”
Nader released the cylinder of the revolver and spun it. Kino could see that all six chambers were full.
Shove Two.
The mayor clicked the cylinder back in place. He casually polished the gun with the end of his tie. “Three seconds left, Kino. And I’ve got all the guns I need. More guns than any kingdom east of the zone.”
“These are special,” Kino said.
“That’s funny. The bullets in my gun are special too. Thirty-eight Special,” Nader toyed. “Maybe I should show you.”
“Alien special.”
Nader arched an eyebrow and laughed. “Kino, you’ve developed a sense of humor. I’m impressed. I admire personal growth. After all, conquering our own limitations is always the toughest challenge of life, isn’t it? Good for you. But your ten seconds are over.”
He pointed the barrel of the gun at Kino’s face and squinted down the sights.
“I’m surprised at you, Kino. You of all people know how insanely dangerous it is to waste my time. There hasn’t been an alien sighting in years, and never one on this continent.”
“Let me show you something,” Kino said, his voice even, in check. He looked past the gun to Nader. “I have proof.”
Nader kept the gun aloft. “Proceed. Quickly.”
“A vid. You’ll see. The alien, she takes out at least eight bangers. All big boys. And she does it fast. Three shots. There’s nothing left to bury, only dust.”
“She?”
“Young. Blonde and…” Kino stopped himself from offering any more details.
Nader must have guessed what was next in Kino’s litany because that very particular sort of smile, the one reserved for the appreciation of a beautiful woman, started on his face. “I’ll grant you eight bonus seconds,” Nader said, as he adjusted his grip on the pistol.
“I’m going to take my phone out,” Kino said carefully. “No one shoot me, please.”
He took the phone from his pocket. It was the beat-up Apple 5SE he stole from the French girl after her grip on the device had been greatly diminished by the travel of a titanium carbonite blade across her throat. Before meeting Kino, she had high hopes of selling the video stored on the phone for enough diamonds to survive life in New York. She’d come to find her boyfriend who had left Paris for Gotham right before the world fell apart. “Because he was such a talented actor,” she’d said.
Or maybe she didn’t. It was ancient history now and too boring a story for Kino to have remembered much of it. The girl’s nervous oversharing had made his head pound. Half the reason he’d cut her throat was just to shut her up.
In a way, he’d done her a favor. He’d been quick about it. Merciful. She was too beautiful to live long. And her hair…like mythic goddess curls. A girl like her would have found herself in all kinds of unholy trouble in New York. A girl who had been stupid in all the worst ways. Stupid to have held onto anything from Before. Like dreams of a boyfriend. Or hope. Stupid to have done what she must have done to get out of Paris and to Manhattan. And stupid to have believed Kino would pay what she had wanted for the vid.
There were some people in the After a person like Kino had to pay if he wanted certain things. The French girl had not been among that inglorious community of fellow grifters, hustlers, and worse. She had been unconnected in any way Kino needed to fear, and she had been unarmed. She had all but tattooed “kill me” on her forehead. He only did what someone else would have done, but at least his knife was sharp. Still, and much to his surprise, he had felt badly when instead of diamonds from his pocket, he had produced a knife. The look on her face was so pathetic he couldn’t stop himself from letting a twinge of empathy push its way through the dead thing in his chest that used to be his heart.
The twinge, however, had been just that. A twinge.
He hit play and handed the phone to Tom Nader. The mayor watched the video twice in silent and intense study. Clearly Kino’s bonus seconds had been extended without notification.
“Where did you get this?” the mayor asked, hitting the little white triangle on the freeze frame once again.
“A friend of the shooter.”
“Not a very good friend. But what can an alien expect, yes?”
“Desperate times,” Kino answered evenly.
The mayor lifted his eyes from the screen to partially meet Kino’s, the green eye surveying some other interest. “Indeed, they are. What about the blonde? Your Killer Alien?”
“I know where she’s going. Told the friend a story about fetching a sister and bringing her back to the ship.”
“A sister? That doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
“An obvious cover. But whatever, I’m happy to act as the welcome committee.”
“Nice of you to offer, Kino, but the game’s not over.”
The mayor brought the gun up again. For the first time, Kino noticed the green eye snap into obedience. It sent a tiny shiver of fear up his spine.
“What else do you know about this alien with the amazing gun?” the mayor asked. “Her friend must have told you more before you killed her. You did kill her, yes?”
“Only her name. Sarah. And yes, the friend is dead.”
“Sarah? You’re sure of it?”
Kino wondered if there was a bit of genuine surprise in the mayor’s voice, or if Kino was simply being toyed with again, just another round in the game. Kino shrugged. “Yeah, that’s what she said. Sarah.”
The mayor seemed to be chewing on this—the issue of the girl’s name. “Okay, Kino,” he said at last. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to earn your way home. To redeem yourself. But it’ll be your last chance. Disappoint me again and we, along with your pitiful life, are through for good. Do you want this chance, Kino? Because I’m happy to just take your stolen phone and leave you on the List. It’s not much of a life, but it beats the alternative.”
“I won’t let you down, Tom.”
“You mean this time,” Nader said with a crooked smile. A beat later he knocked the top of the desk with the knuckles of his right hand, perhaps signaling an end to the game, or at least a decision. “Fine, a chance it is,” he declared to the room at large. “One more thing,” his tone was casual now. “The blonde, bring her back. Alive.”
Kino didn’t like this “one more thing” at all. It would take him time to weigh all the possibilities but there was no doubt in his mind that bringing the alien back, especially alive, would mean all kinds of trouble. All kinds of unnecessary risk. Who knew what an alien was truly capable of?
“It’s cleaner if we keep this about the weapons, Tom, don’t you think?” He looked over at the two women in the room, then back to Nader. “Besides, you have plenty of friends.”
Nader smiled fully. “See, this is what worries me about you,” he said, still peering down the polished barrel at Kino, the green eye deadly serious. He let his smile fall. “You’ve got good ideas, and one of the brassiest sets of danglers I’ve ever had working for me. I’ll give you those. But sometimes, Kino, you can get risk and opportunity all mixed up. That little mistake up in Murry Hill comes to mind.”
“That was a fast-moving situation.” Kino’s throat had gone dry. If he could live three moments of his life over again, the mess in Murry Hill would be one of them.
“Everything’s a fast-moving situation, Kino. I can’t be everywhere. I need my team to keep up, and to know when the fruit is there for the picking.” He lowered his gun, turned the phone toward Kino, and hit play. “Now watch carefully.” Nader let the video play for a few seconds. At the 00:14 mark he paused it. “It was just a flash, Kino. When she swings around to get the last of those boys. Most people would have missed it, but something like this is the kind of thing I need you to see.”
Kino leaned in to get a closer look. “Your alien annihilator there?” Nader said breezily. “She’s wearing a cross.”
Kino nodded as if he understood the significance of the cross. Later, he’d run down the different possibilities in his mind. Sometimes he needed time to think things through, to consider the angles. For now, it was enough that he had a deal with Nader.
The trick would be keeping it.
SEVEN WEEKS EARLIER
