Shadowrun 43 - Fallen Angels Page 11

  The room beyond probably took up a good part of the back half of the building's second floor. It contained a small bed along with a couple of folding cots, an old table and some chairs. The wallpaper was probably older than Tir Tairngire itself, and the floor was hardwood that had seen better days. Blinds covered the two windows looking out into the alley behind the building, closed to block out most of the daylight. Midnight took in the room with a sweeping glance before turning back to the woman.

  "Good," she said, handing her a credstick. The woman bowed again slightly, palming the payment, and withdrew. Midnight ushered Kellan and Orion inside and closed the door behind them.

  "You know her?" Kellan asked and Midnight nodded.

  "Well enough. The owners will provide the space and won't ask any questions, as long as we're discreet."

  Kellan dropped her bag on one of the cots as Midnight moved a chair against the side wall of the room, with a view of the door and windows.

  "Now," she said, "have a seat, and I'll tell you what we're doing." Orion grabbed the other chair, and Kellan sat down on the edge of the cot. Midnight crossed one leg over the other and clasped her hands in her lap, reminding Kellan of a teacher about to begin a lesson.

  "Telestrian Industries is the largest corporation in Tir Tairngire," she began. "They have interests in bio-lech, computers, entertainment, data processing—you name it. They've got an arcology habitat here in Portland, and, of course, they've got close ties with the Tir Council of Princes.

  "Until recently, James Telestrian III ran the company. It's privately held by his family, which is one of the most influential families in the Tir. Recently, James announced his intention to seek an appointment to the Council of Princes, and needed to turn control of the company over to someone else due to the requirements of Tir law. He picked his younger sister, Marie-Louise, for the job."

  "And somebody is pretty hacked off about it," Kellan interjected.

  "Got it in one," Midnight said with a sly smile. "James' son Timothy is an MBA graduate with ambition and sufficient talent, from what I've heard, and he's none too happy about being passed over for an opportunity to run the family business. He's looking for an opportunity to leverage control of Telestrian Industries away from his aunt, which is where we come in.

  "Our job is to get inside the Telestrian Habitat and acquire a certain top-secret file, which our employer can use as leverage against his aunt, particularly if his father wants to avoid an embarrassing family squabble while he's trying to win the favor of the Council of Princes. Timothy Telestrian is willing to pay handsomely for the information, and, in addition, he can provide us credentials to get us inside the habitat and some of the codes we'll need to retrieve the data."

  "Some?" Orion asked.

  "Obviously, he can't give us anything that would implicate him, but what he can give us will make the job a lot easier."

  Kellan nodded. "When do we go?"

  "Well, time is of the essence," Midnight said. "Once James Telestrian is on the Council of Princes, Timothy loses most of his bargaining power, since his father's position will be established. I need to set up a meeting with a contact to get the information Timothy said he'd provide. Then we can review it, figure out our plan of attack, and get the job done. We'll be here for a few days at most. Then we're out, with enough cred to take it easy for a while."

  Kellan couldn't help but smile at the prospect of the easy life for a little while. "Let's do it."

  11

  You know, Lothan," the ork said, staring straight ahead, "this isn't exactly the smartest thing you've ever done." You know, Lothan," the ork said, staring straight ahead, "this isn't exactly the smartest thing you've ever done."

  "Yes, G-Dogg," he replied with a sigh, "I do believe you mentioned that, oh, half a dozen or so times already."

  "I'm just sayin'," G-Dogg continued, his hands leaving the steering wheel for a moment to make a pacifying gesture. "It could be a lot of trouble for nothing."

  "Perhaps," Lothan said, nodding his head slowly, "perhaps, but some things need to be done."

  G-Dogg looked at the troll, and Lothan shook his head. "Don't read anything into this," he warned. "It is what it is."

  He turned back to the road. "Well, if you're going to do this, then I'm coming with you."

  It was Lothan's turn to look at G-Dogg, and the ork gave him a sidelong glance before returning his gaze to the road, shaggy dreadlocks bobbing.

  "Hey, she's my friend, too," he muttered.

  "I'll be glad for the company, then," Lothan said, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth.

  G-Dogg drove them down Pike Street in Lothan's van. Traffic was fairly heavy, so things were stop-and-go as they headed downhill toward the waterfront. Lothan maintained an air of calm detachment, though he fought the urge to strike the car ahead of them with a fireball and blast it from the road. He didn't want to be late. Cursed traffic.

  "Remember—" he began.

  "Yeah, yeah," G-Dogg interrupted, "I know, street parking if at all possible. You've mentioned that a few times. If you know some magic for that, now would be a good time, cuz street parking's not lookin' too likely at the moment."

  He's probably right, Lothan thought glumly. He didn't care for the idea of putting the van in a garage, since it limited their options if a quick departure was called for. Not that he was planning on one, but it paid to be prepared.

  "Let me see what I can do about that," he said. If nothing else, it would take his mind off the traffic.

  Lothan settled back in his seat, despite the somewhat cramped space. Though the Awakened world had included orks and trolls for decades, car manufacturers were only beginning to catch on to the idea that the bucket seat wasn't made with three-meter-tall metahumans in mind.

  Lothan calmed his mind. One hand cupped near his solar plexus, he lifted the other over it, palm down, as if holding a small ball near his stomach. He breathed out, feeling the flow of mana, magical energy, in the ether around him. With the smallest effort of will, he took a portion of that energy and drew it in as easily as drawing a deep breath, channeling it into the space between his hands. He focused on his intent, and molded and shaped the energy in accordance with it. The air shimmered between his cupped hands, and it was to G-Dogg's credit that he gave what Lothan was doing no more than a cursory glance.

  The troll mage breathed out one more time, quickly, almost explosively, and the shimmer between his palms took shape, becoming a ghostly outline of a bird, visible only as a distortion in the air. Lothan spread his hands in a gesture of release, and the shape flew, passing through the windshield in front of him and zipping away.

  "That going to get us a parking spot?" G-Dogg asked, as if he saw wizards conjuring spirits all the time.

  "If there's one to be had," Lothan said.

  "Wizard."

  There was a spot, and Lothan's watcher spirit guided them to it just in time to pull in as the other car exited. G-Dogg neatly maneuvered the van into the space, then killed the engine and hopped out to slot his credstick into the parking meter. It would deduct the cost of the space minute by minute from his account until they left.

  The Hotel Nikko was at the corner of Pike Street and Third Avenue, west of the looming bulk of the Renraku Arcology and beyond the long shadow it cast over the downtown area in the late afternoon hours. The parking space they had found was only a few blocks down Pike Street, and although Lothan wasn't happy about walking uphill toward the hotel, he preferred knowing the trip back would be downhill. G-Dogg walked a step or two behind him, the ork's powerful legs keeping up easily with Lothan's longer stride. People on the sidewalk quickly gave way to the massive troll in the flowing coat and the dark-skinned ork following close behind him.

  Lothan didn't pause to admire the traditional Japanese-style decor of the hotel's lobby, or to appreciate the aromas wafting from the attached restaurant as its staff prepared for dinner. He went directly to the bank of elevators, punching the button for the
ninth floor with one blunt finger. With a sidelong glance, he made sure the watcher he had summoned still hovered close by his left shoulder. He hadn't called the spirit merely for parking, after all. It would serve as a watchdog for any signs of mystical trouble, allowing Lothan to focus on more mundane concerns.

  Once the elevator doors closed, G-Dogg shrugged, adjusting the harness he wore under his vest, twisting his neck in a stretch. Lothan likewise rested one hand close Jlo the pistol worn underneath his overcoat. It was a familiar and reassuring weight, though it was really the least of the weapons at his disposal. When the doors opened, G-Dogg went out first, quickly scanning the hall before motioning for Lothan to follow. Counting off the room numbers, Lothan stopped at 937 and rapped firmly on the door three times. There was only a brief pause before it opened.

  The figure standing about a meter back from the door held a sleek pistol in a gleaming metallic, skeletal hand. It matched the white face paint emphasizing his sunken cheeks, narrow chin and long jaw, which made his head look like a skull underneath the dark glasses and the wide-brimmed hat. No emotion showed on that face, as still, steady and mechanical as the hand holding the gun.

  "Lothan," the dark-clad gunman said quietly.

  "Deacon," the mage replied in a cool tone, ducking his head to step into the room. G-Dogg followed. The Street Deacon stepped aside to allow them to enter the hotel suite, but as Lothan passed, he held out his free hand, also made of metal.

  Lothan sighed and reached slowly under his coat to produce his own weapon, handing it over to the Deacon butt first. He took the gun and set it on the nearby vanity before holding out his hand for G-Dogg's weapons. After the ork handed over his gun and his backup, the Deacon waved them on into the room, following just behind them.

  On the far side of the suite's main room, windows looked out over the street below and toward the shadowy hulk of the arcology. The man sitting in one of the chairs by the window set his drink aside and stood to face them as they entered.

  "Lothan," he said, "I'm glad you could make it."

  "Akimura-san, this is not a meeting I would miss."

  "I believe you're already acquainted with the Street Deacon."

  Lothan nodded. "We've met," he said vaguely.

  "Then I'm sure you've had the opportunity to appreciate his skill—as well as why I need someone like him on hand, given recent events."

  "Of course."

  Akimura smiled. "I'm glad we understand each other. Please, have a seat, I think we have a great deal to discuss."

  "He's dead. There's nothing you can do."

  The voice was soft, warm, even sympathetic, but also utterly without mercy, saying what Kellan feared, what she did not want to accept. She cradled Orion's limp, bloody body in her arms, rocking him gently as if he were only asleep, as if she could brush the hair away from his face and awaken him with a kiss.

  "Let him go, Kellan," the voice said.

  "No."

  "You have no choice. You have to let him go."

  She squeezed her eyes shut against the brightly shining light, pressing her face down against Orion's hair. It still smelled of him, mixed with the ever-present scent of blood.

  "Come to me, Kellan." The voice was insistant. "I will make everything better for you. You will see. Come to me. I can help."

  "No," Kellan whispered, "no." She wanted to scream, to shout it, but she couldn't seem to make her voice function properly. She couldn't move. It was like there was a great weight around her neck, dragging her down.

  "It will all be over very soon now, Kellan, very soon. Don't be afraid."

  "Kellan . . . Kellan."

  "Orion!"

  Kellan bolted awake to find Orion practically face-to-face with her. He grabbed her arms to steady her as she got her bearings. Then she threw herself against his chest and hugged him just to make sure he was real, tears welling up at the memory of holding his unmoving body.

  "Hey, it's okay," he said soothingly. "It's okay." Kellan suddenly felt awkward, and pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "Another dream?" Orion asked.

  Kellan nodded mutely.

  "You want to talk about it?" She shook her head.

  "It's okay," she began, but Orion cut her off with a wave of his hand.

  "No, it's not. Kellan, there's obviously something going on, something that's bothering you. I'll admit I don't know drek about what dreams mean, but I do know that having nightmares all the time means something is wrong."

  She didn't argue the point, and that seemed to deflate Orion's anger. "Look," he said gently, "it might help to talk to someone about it."

  "I don't know what they mean," Kellan said, hugging her arms to her chest, hunched on the edge of the cot. "They're just these images . . ."

  "Images of what?"

  "Death," she said, glancing up to meet Orion's eyes. "Images of death, betrayal, and I don't know what to do about it, and I feel so . . . helpless." She shook her head slowly.

  "Kel, they're just dreams."

  "No," she said. "No, I don't think they are. I think they're more than that, but I just don't know what."

  "Magic?" Orion asked, and Kellan nodded. "Have you asked Lothan about it? Or maybe Liada?"

  Kellan shook her head again. "When I first started having them, I didn't want to talk to anybody about them because I didn't know what to say. Now I wish I had."

  "Don't you think it could just be, you know, the stress of the run and everything else that's going on?"

  "Maybe," but she didn't sound convinced. Looking around the room, she asked, "Midnight's not back?"

  "She should be soon."

  "Okay." Kellan sat up and took a deep breath. "There anything to eat?"

  "Midnight said she'd bring something back with her."

  Kellan nodded again, then stood and stretched, working the kinks out from sleeping badly on the hard cot.

  "Did you get any sleep?" she asked.

  "Enough. If you want to try to go back to sleep . .."

  "No, that's okay. I'm up now."

  Kellan went to her bag and pulled out her cyber-deck. Setting it on her lap, she switched it on in "tortoise" mode, allowing her to access the grid without jacking directly into the Matrix, which wasn't necessary for the simple stuff she had in mind. She checked to see if she had any new e-mail or messages, but there was nothing—not that she'd been expecting anything, but it was something to do while they waited for Midnight to return.

  "Kellan," Orion began behind her, "about the other night . . ."

  "I told you," she said, without looking at him. "It's frosty, no problem."

  "Well, I think I've got a problem," Orion said, and Kellan paused, fingers poised over the keyboard. "I think . . ." He paused, sighing.

  "What?" She half turned to see Orion standing where she'd left him, eyes downcast. She'd never seen her friend look so uncomfortable. Even when he'd been called to account by the leader of the Ancients, he'd retained his usual proud bearing and defiant attitude.

  "I don't want you think what happened, our being together, was just a casual thing," Orion said. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and Kellan felt her pulse race. "It wasn't to me, anyway, and I don't think it was to you, either."

  "Tam—"

  "No, let me finish. I like you, Kel. I like you more than I ever thought I would like anyone ever again in my life. I . . . have feelings for you, and I understand if you don't feel the same way, but if I didn't tell you, I would always wonder. . . ."

  Kellan got to her feet, setting the cyberdeck aside, and went to him. She rested her hands lightly on his chest, feeling the taut muscles under his shirt.

  "I ... I do feel the same way," she said hesitantly. "I just didn't ... I didn't want it to be . . ."

  "Unprofessional?" Orion suggested, and Kellan flushed and ducked her head, resting it for a moment against his chest.

  "Yeah. Dumb, huh?"

  Orion smiled and shook his head. "No, not really. We're both still feelin
g our way through life in the shadows, and reputation is important."

  "I just didn't know what to say . . . what to do."

  "Well, there's this for starters. . . ." Orion said softly, tipping her face up to his and leaning toward her.

  Kellan felt the warm press of his lips, and melted against him as Orion's arms surrounded her and pulled her closer. Neither of them noticed the door to the room quietly open, or the dark-clad figure standing there.

  Lothan took the seat Akimura offered him, pleased the fixer didn't subscribe to Japanese custom and have them all sitting on the floor. The padded hotel chair was comfortable, and even large enough to accommodate his size.

  Toshiro Akimura was of somewhat less than average height, yet carried a commanding presence. He was clearly used to receiving a certain measure of respect from the people around him. If he was at all nervous about meeting with Lothan and G-Dogg, he didn't show it. He was dressed fairly casually in a dark sport coat and slacks with a cream-colored V-neck shirt, though Lothan recognized the design as one of Vashon Islands' lines of secure clothing for executives. The coat was lined with ballistic cloth, and an enhancement to the weave of the shirt provided an additional layer of protection.

  Akimura's dark hair was cut conservatively short, revealing the gleam of the datajack at his right temple, and his dark eyes were like shuttered windows, impossible to read. Lothan suppressed the automatic urge to scan the fixer astrally; it would hardly be polite, and, more importantly, if Akimura had arranged for magical protection, it might be taken as a threat.

  "I'm glad you contacted me to set up this meeting," Akimura began.

  "And why is that?"

  "Because I need to get in touch with Kellan Colt, and I understand you know her quite well."

  "Well enough."

  "Then you can pass on a message for me. She's in danger."

  "Indeed?" Lothan raised one eyebrow. "I was under the impression she was in danger from you."