Read New Enemies Page 34


  Chapter 33

  The opened jar rested on the table between Slant, Heart, and Wasp in his office. Two days had passed since Slant and Heart left that warehouse, and neither could yet believe what they had found. Even relaying it to Wasp hadn’t made it more real.

  Wasp leant back, looked up at the ceiling, as he absorbed the story and the evidence. Then he laughed. “This is brilliant! Brilliant! Well done to both of you. Seriously, incredibly, well done Slant and Heart. It was awkward to sneak that thing out, but it was so worth it. Brilliant!”

  “What are you going to do about this?” Heart asked, pointing to the jar. Wasp had apparently sent more Custodians, dressed as Farmers, to replace this jar. That Wasp had such influence was incredible, but Slant supposed the nature of this… find meant that people would be willing to take such risks.

  Sol knows he and Heart nearly fought the Merchants to take it from the warehouse themselves...

  “We need to take this to the Contegons, or the Acolytes. Anyone,” Slant said. “People need to know about such... Heresy.”

  “Do they?” Wasp asked.

  Slant and Heart looked at each other, a little confused.

  Wasp stood. “If we take this jar to the Stations, they will not believe us. I guarantee it. In fact, I would bet they’d indict the Custodians as Heretics for producing evidence like this against the Farmers, and for the manner in which we got it. We would all burn for suggesting this without complete proof.”

  “No, surely they wouldn't,” Slant said, unable to believe that. “There must be people you can talk to, people who would believe that you wouldn't do something like that. Lun, you got this jar out!”

  Wasp sucked on his lips, then shook his head. “People are willing to give small favours in secret, but asking them to publicly speak up for us about… that… would be a different matter altogether.”

  “Fuck,” Heart said. “We found something even worse than the Seed network, but we can't reveal it.” He punched the table, which made the jar shake. “Fuck!”

  “Wait, but you said this is brilliant,” Slant said to Wasp. “So this wasn't useless, was it?”

  “This one has a good ear,” Wasp said to Heart. “You're right. We will pursue the investigation, get enough evidence to prove the validity of this find. We are still just unproven criminals to them, but people will soon be willing to believe the Stationed can be involved in… horrors like this. Then, we will have the legitimacy to present it without suspicion.”

  Slant didn't believe that was Wasp's only reason: the man's tone was too controlled, and his fist was shaking as he spoke. There was something more to his reticence.

  “Still, this is worth celebrating. I will arrange a little gathering. The drinks will be on my Circle. You both deserve it after the dangers you have put yourselves through, and I think the others will enjoy it too.”

  “Thank you, sire,” Slant said, “though I’d prefer to visit my family. It has been weeks.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate!”

  Wasp dismissed them then, his gaze falling onto the jar and its evil contents.

  Heart held out his hand to Slant when they were outside Wasp’s office. “It was good to work with you,” he said. “You weren't as bad as most rookies.”

  Slant smiled and shook his hand. Then his smile fell. “You don't think we'll work together on Write's connection to the Seed network?”

  “Maybe I will,” Heart grunted, lowering his hand, “but I think you'll be moved onto this... Heresy. Wasp seems to have taken a shine to you.”

  “Then it has been a pleasure working with you.” Slant laughed then. “Well, at least as much of a pleasure as grubbing around and spending weeks watching a Zone can be.”

  Heart nodded to him and walked away. Slant was left alone, Custodians practising around him. With nothing else to do, he joined the combat practice to keep his skills sharp.

  After training, a meal shared at a large table, and a nap, Wasp gathered the Custodians at the warehouse together. There were maybe twenty people outside Wasp's office. Heart, he saw, was not amongst them.

  “Good evening to you all,” Wasp said. “Tonight, something great has happened. Tonight, we are going to celebrate. Tonight, we are, on my Circle, going to the Nine Nines!”

  Hissed excitement and joy passed through the clutch of men. The Nine Nines was a raucous bar, a mix of alcohol and prostitution about which many things were whispered. Slant supposed that was a good place to unwind, if you were into that kind of thing.

  “I don’t think I need to lead you to the Nine Nines, do I? Especially not you, External!”

  The Custodians laughed, deep and throaty. Looking at them, he realised he was the youngest by a decade: the Custodians were mostly former Shields - deserters, cowards, and the resting - or former Gangers. They were gnarled, brutal men who easily fit with criminals. Perhaps because they were criminals.

  One said, “No, sire, you do not.”

  “External’s practically got his own seat there.”

  “Yeah, right underneath the dancers' table!”

  Another round of laughter echoed between the quiet streets.

  “We shall head to the Nine Nines. Together. Yes, tonight, I think, we will walk together.”

  The Custodians, led by Wasp despite him saying he didn't need take them, then fell into private conversations about previous assignments, women they’d conquered, or drinking sessions which ended with trips to a Doctor. Boastful stuff that couldn’t have interested Slant less.

  A brief conversation between Wasp and the oldest Custodian present, a withered wretch who didn’t look like he would survive a fight, caught Slant's attention on the way. The bald, button-nosed man sidled up to Wasp and said, “Have the Fathers been informed of whatever inspired this?”

  Wasp looked down at him, showing the old Custodian his scarred side. “Not yet.”

  “Do you wish for me to do so? I know they’d like to hear.”

  “The Fathers will hear from me when I’m ready to talk,” Wasp snapped. “Don’t try to remind me of obligations I would not forget.”

  The old Custodian held his hands up, and stepped back, struck by the force of Wasp’s response. Chastised, he mingled amongst the crowd, and kept his head down for the rest of the journey.

  Slant had heard of the Nine Nines mostly from Gangers looking for a flashy way to blow their money. He'd thought it odd that such a bawdy tavern was on the outskirts of Blade’s Birth, the Artificers’ territory… until he learned that two sisters, one a Merchant and the other an Artificer who specialised in sexual protection, owned the place. Then it clicked: where better to sell those products than a brothel? They were lucky to have an established reputation to protect them, purveyors of protection when the Maters exist....

  The bar was huge, a combined shop and small factory. Its bulk might have been imposing if not for the loud music and laughter it emptied into the streets. A sign swung over the front door, nine number nines in a three-by-three square. Two towers of flesh wearing Merchant clothing stood at the door, guarding the establishment from undesireables.

  Wasp walked up to the men and flashed a grin. “The 'Custodian party.'”

  The taller of the two Merchants frowned, his overhanging brow creasing like a mountain crumbles under an earthquake, and then nodded. “Wasp, yes. Welcome.”

  The other Merchant opened the door. The music and laughter doubled in volume. Brilliant light poured out, like the entrance led into Sol himself. Wasp grinned and gestured for everyone to enter. He waited until the last man before following them in.

  By the time Slant entered, the Custodians had already filtered around the broad tavern: some were at the bar, making demands of Servants who poured great jugs of ale and ciders; others were at gaming tables where Skulls and Nineteen were being played for large piles of Circles; and a final set were near the cooing, barely-dressed men and women that walked amongst them or danced on tables.

  “
It’s quite a place, isn’t it?” Wasp asked.

  “It’s… something, sire.”

  Wasp clapped him on the shoulder, and went to some stairs that led into what was presumably the brothel. He ascended a few steps and then clapped his hands, the sound piercing the revelry and drinking. The Custodians, Servants, whores, and regular patrons all turned.

  He grinned at their attention. “Everyone, tonight’s celebration is on me. I will cover your drinks, your ‘entertainment,’ and twenty circles at the gambling table each. Have a good time, unwind, and celebrate everything you have done. Everything you all have done!”

  Another cheer. The whores and dancers whooped with joy. Mugs were bashed on tables, and feet stamped, echoing through even this large bar. Slant noticed Heart at the bar then, his scarred face resting on a thin male whore’s hairless chest.

  “I’d like to thank Heart and Slant. Now, I can see Slant because I just left him, but where’s Heart?”

  “Where do you think?” one Custodian called back.

  The group all laughed as Heart pushed the whore away and stood. “I’m here, sire,” he said.

  “Of course you are,” Wasp replied. An odd look passed across his face. “Your piece of flesh better treat you right, or I’ll be unhappy.”

  “I sure will, sire!” the whore, who wore the make up of a woman, shouted back.

  “Anyway, tonight is a celebration! We celebrate because of Heart and Slant. I hope our entertainment remember that in particular.” He paused, looked to the whores who all whooped again. Some left their Custodians behind and walked across to Slant. “Have fun, wreck yourselves. But not too badly: we have more work to do in the morning!”

  The Custodians stood, roared, their drinks in the air. Slant grinned at his fellows, whilst trying to ignore the attention the whores were giving him.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Drink!”

  The Custodians applauded, chanted Wasp’s name. He grinned, a cat with an endless supply of cream, and stepped down. The nearest men shook his hand or acquiesced. The rest returned to their entertainment.

  “So, you’re the big man?” one whore asked, a tall, tanned man with muscle-definition that would make a Contegon weep. He put a hand on Slant’s shoulder and smiled.

  “It seems like it,” a stick-thin female whore said as she stepped beside him, put a hand on his chest. “I’m willing to bet he’s a big man elsewhere as well.”

  Two more stepped in, a buxom woman and a wafer-thin man. They smiled, genuine smiles that reached their eyes, and all waited for him to make a decision.

  “Look, your attention is flattering and all, but…”

  “But nothing!” Heart said, walking over with his company under his arm. The painted man giggled, enjoying being carried so. “You earned it. Go upstairs and fuck one of these pretty things like there’s no tomorrow.”

  “That sounds good,” the well-built whore said with a wink.

  “Heart, this is nice and all, but I don’t know that I can–”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Slant blushed, looked away from the gnarled man.

  “Oh. Oh, Sol! Really?” Heart said with a laugh.

  “A first timer!” the buxom woman said, stepping forward. “I love those.”

  “No, really, I don’t –”

  “Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go find a room. No pressure.”

  She started to drag him away, but Slant pulled back. His chest, as well as another part of him, felt like they were going to explode. He shook his head slowly and pointed toward the thinner man, who was much more to his tastes.

  “Perfect,” the young, thin man said. His dark, plump lips broke into a smile, showing excellent white teeth and a hunger that excited Slant. “My name’s Cap. I’ll show you the ropes, hero boy.”

  The buxom whore pouted. “Damn. Can I at least watch?”

  “Would you mind?” Cap asked Slant.

  “I… I guess not.”

  “Good! My name is Seed. I’m just as addictive as the drug,” she said with a wink. Then she grabbed Cap and Slant’s hands, dragged them up the stairs.

  “Wait, Seed, where are you going?” someone shouted. Slant didn’t see whom because he was lost in a swirl of hormones, and the slim, perfect lines of Cap’s body.

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll be back in a bit, lover. I just want to watch the fun.”

  “No, I want you down here now,” the voice shouted back.

  “Well, no one gets what they want all the time,” Seed sang as she ran up the stairs.

  Slant was led upstairs to one of the larger bedrooms. Cap gently pushed him over to the bed and lay him down, those umber lips moist, his lithe body hanging over Slant.

  “Just relax, hero boy. Let me get us started.”

  Seed sat at the corner of the bedroom and leant forward, her eyes filled with the same hunger both Cap and Slant felt. For the first time in years, Slant considered a woman in a sexual manner, and found her almost as arousing as Cap.

  Cap helped Slant out of his top, kissing along his scarred body. “You’re a bit of a fighter, aren’t you?”

  “I… Yes, I used to be a vigilante.”

  “A vigilante? How brave,” Cap replied, looking deep into his eyes. “I love a brave man.”

  He kissed down Slant’s body, and was about to get to a part of him that truly wanted attention when the bedroom door burst open. Three Custodians entered, led by a bearded man with fury in his eyes.

  “You get out of here now!” Seed shouted, standing. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I said I wanted you now,” the bearded man said. “And I’m going to have you.” He grabbed Seed, hard. The woman screamed.

  “Hey, you stop that!” Cap shouted. He stood, as though to fight, but one of the Custodians leapt forward and gut-punched him, knocking him to the ground.

  Slant’s desire had changed into a thirst before they’d hurt anyone. Now, he threw himself at the nearest Custodian, shooting a fist into his stomach. When the man – an obese mess who must have gotten by in fights by using his bulk – doubled over, Slant dropped his elbow hard on the back of the man’s neck.

  The other Custodian stepped across him. A sharp pain filled Slant’s world. He looked down: a knife was buried in his side. Blood poured from the wound. He fell to his knees and tried to stem his bleeding as the room became lighter, the sounds of the fight became distant. Until he saw only light.