CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I always had to fight the guys who looked like they just killed their parents. - Richard Pryor
Winston eyed his captor through tiny slits in his eyelids. A Shadow that walked like a man. If he ever wanted Makr in his face, this was the moment.
What did he want? And what was that smell? The man—he assumed it was a man; too broad shouldered for a woman, but, then again, the cloak didn't exactly reveal form. You'd think, even if you live in the Shadows, you could at least clean your rags so they wouldn't stink so much, he thought.
"I see you're awake. Head hurt?"
The voice was surprisingly gentle. Winston hadn't expected an angel of death to be especially soft-spoken.
"You ought to know. You did this to me." He shrank down in his portion of the bench seat, trying to be as far away from the dark, smelly figure as possible.
"Sorry. I didn't have time to make your acquaintance."
"Are you serious? You don't want to kill me?"
"Don't get cocky. No I don't want to kill you. Not yet. Needed your vehicle. Wasn't sure I'd be able to fly it without the Cyber controls. Might've needed you at some point."
"Other than that you don't have any use for me?"
"No. Should I?"
Winston saw opportunity beckoning.
"Maybe we can help each other."
"Maybe. I doubt you have anything else I want."
He had him there. What did he have to offer this untidy gentleman? Clothes? Clean clothes? A sanitizing shower? Probably didn't care about those things. He reeked and loved it! What did he have that stinky didn't?
"I can get you close to Makr." Why did he say that? "Real close," he added.
He assumed all rebels wanted to get close to Makr and destroy Him.
"Oh? Why would you do that? Why should I believe you can do it in the first place?"
The man turned his head, pulled his hood back, revealing a darkly serious, but clean, handsome face.
"You promise you won't hurt me?" Winston thought he could grovel quite well if need be.
Whatever it took, would be his motto. Survive this. No loss, no gain. So what? Makr would take him back. He was sure of it. He needs me he lied to himself.
"Don't disappoint me," the Shadow threatened.
"No," he promised. "I work...I...I..." Oh, what the hell—he'll know if I'm lying anyway. "I'm a cyberlink for Makr."
"So?"
"So."
"So you tell Makr how to find us...how to kill us?" The dark stranger had lost his pleasant tone.
"No...no...no, not me! I mean, I don't tell Him things like that."
"Of course not."
He casually held his laser ax under Winston's chin. It hummed in its ready status.
"No! You don't understand, I work directly for Makr. I am a State Prosecutor."
"For this I shouldn't kill you?" He moved the laser ax as if trying to angle on the Winston's neck for a simple beheading.
"I haven't told Makr anything about you...or your kind."
"My kind? What exactly is my kind?" His voice was tense, but even.
"You're one of the Shadow People. Am I right?"
"Do I have to answer that?" he asked mockingly.
"No, no, of course not. You don't have to answer anything at all."
The Shadow was still.
"I'm not here to give Makr information."
"No? But that's what you do."
"Well, yes, but I'm not going to do that now."
The Shadow man smiled, but Winston couldn't see it. "I know that," the Shadow said.
He reached inside his cloak, pulled out what looks like a metal button, and placed it on the back of Winston's neck, where the neck and brain stem met.
Winston reeled back at the touch, "If I do anything wrong, you can kill me."
"I don't need your permission."
"What'd you put on my neck?"
"You'll find out," he said, tapping the 'button.' Winston protested loudly, "Ow! What was that?"
"A scrambler."
"What?"
"Don't you Insiders know anything? Don't answer that. The button is my insurance; you cause trouble, I give you more pain. Simple."
That wasn't the real purpose, the Shadow knew. The button neutralized Winston's chip for a while, and it would help to keep the idiot quiet.
"No trouble, no pain. Got it? No trouble, no pain."
"I got it, I got it."
As the hovercar darted around the city, Winston was feeling squashed in his own one-seat vehicle.
"This hovercar flew before Makr evolved to sanction cybermatches."
"I know. That's why it was so easy to disable the link."
"Do you know that some of its parts were actually made by human workers instead of the automatons they called robots back then?"
"Is there a reason I should care that this is a classic hovercar? I need transportation. That's all. You can have it back when I'm done—if it's still in one piece."
"What? Okay," Winston finally said after taking a deep breath. Careful, now. Careful. "What can I do for you? There's got to be something."
The man wiggled the laser ax a little.
"Besides give you my head on a plate, I mean."
"Go on."
He brought the laser ax down and put it back in his lap out of Winston's reach.
"Factories. You want to know about the factories, right?"
Silence. He knew he'd guessed right. The Shadow people would probably think it was a trap, but surely they realize that Makr would have deduced that possibility a long ago.
"You'll show me where the latest series Cyber factories are located?"
Winston nodded.
"Refitting Cyber factories? Cyber weaponry?"
"Yes, yes!"
Winston was beside himself. For a second he toyed with the idea that this information might be most valuable to Makr. Victory went to the most powerful, but then again, with Death sitting beside him...
"I hope you aren't thinking this is good information to pass on to Makr."
Winston pretended to be a little offended and hoped Death wouldn't see through the charade.
"I wouldn't! No!"
"Because if I thought you were really thinking: 'I can grab this weapon, turn it on him and...' I think you get the picture."
"Trust me." Winston squeaked.
Up went the laser ax, shoved hard into Winston's Adam's apple, choking him.
"Don't you ever say that to a Shadow, you got that!" Agitated, but still in control, he dropped the laser weapon back in his lap.
Why are you so worried, Winston? You're alive so far. You wanted out, he reminded himself. You wanted out from under Makr. Now's your chance. If it works, you'll be out. You just don't have control right now. You have to trust someone other than Makr and yourself for a change. Of course, if it doesn't work, no worries...Yeah, right.
Winston feigned a near perfect calm. His own acting convinced him that he was truly as confident and strong as he pretended to be. His mind had become increasingly alert to opportunities to wrestle control from his captor. Anyone could be brave, he thought, when he'd already faced Death once this morning. Even Winston.
"I can show you some factories that will interest you, but I'd have to go to my office first."
"Right!" the Shadow retorted caustically. "Where is it?"
"That is a problem."
"If you're playing..."
Winston sensed the Shadow's increasing anger and frustration. He knew only one way to respond and that was to ingratiate himself with his captor.
"Never! I would never do that, I promise," he said emphatically. "I'm not saying it's your fault, but when you killed the communicator you killed the link to the city grid. I can't find my way home."
"I don't need it. I know where I'm going. Do you?"
Winston was silent.
"Well, you know what they say? One man's treasure, another man's junk."
"I think you have it back
wards."
The Shadow raised his laser ax as if to do more damage.
"Whatever you say, whatever you say. Okay. Can we just calm down here?"
The Shadow pointed the laser ax between Winston's eyes. "No, you calm down."
Winston swallowed hard. "Okay, I'll calm down," he said evenly, but he couldn't help himself; he lost his cool completely. "Stop aiming that thing at me!" he screamed. He closed his eyes and said with forced calm, "Kill me if that's what you have to do. If you keep making me crazy, I'll never be able to figure a way to help."
He opened one eye and saw the Shadow focusing on flying instead of trying to kill him.
"Most of us don't know anything map-wise anyway," offered Winston. "We've always relied on Makr to guide us."
Sad but true. His captor exhaled heavily.
"But, if you're willing to take a chance, I can get us to the main factory in the city, the one where the Bios are reconditioned. Unless you are only interested in destroying cyberts—rather than saving Bios who live differently than you do?"
Silence from the Shadow again was torturing Winston.
Then the Shadow turned to him and stuck out a hand. No weapon in it. Winston didn't understand the gesture at first. The Death’s shadow in human form grabbed his right hand and clasped it in his.
"Welcome, Brother. Welcome."
Winston felt his blood pressure and heart rate soar as the stranger squeezed and shook his hand. In spite of his fear of Shadows in the dark, he knew he might just make it out of this alive.