Drifter's Run Read online

  Then, as the passageway began to close in, the cartoon baccas began to nip each other trying to gain an advantage. It was immediately clear that numbers one and four were getting the best of it, but just when their supremacy seemed assured, the tunnel ballooned out, then narrowed into a tiny corridor.

  The crowd cheered as the electronic baccas tore into each other, biting off chunks of neon-colored flesh in their eagerness to pursue the maddening scent, each determined to be first through the hole.

  Looking down, Lando saw that Melissa was undisturbed. Like him she was watching the computerized animation and the cartoonlike images held no reality for her.

  Half the crowd cheered and the other half groaned as number three wriggled through the passageway first. Numbers one, four, and two were close on its heels.

  Cy yelled, "Here they come!"

  Lando looked up and saw the cyborg was right. The crowd was coming toward them with two robo-cams leading the way. He grabbed Melissa's shoulder just as the mob surged around them.

  "Look!" Melissa said and pointed toward the floor.

  Lando looked just in time to see four furry little animals enter the transparent maze. An extremely small robo-cam followed along behind them.

  Each bacca wore a harness with a number on it. They had small weasellike faces, no external ears, and three eyes. One eye was located up front toward the center of the bacca's head, with the other two on either side, providing lateral vision.

  Lando noticed that their front legs were shorter, ended in prehensile paws, and weren't used for running. Would a few million years of additional evolution turn their front legs into arms and their paws into hands? There was no way to tell.

  Number three was bleeding profusely from a deep bite. Melissa bit a knuckle and reached for Lando's hand.

  Now Lando found that he could see individual differences between the animals.

  Number one darted here and there, exploring each and every possible route, eliminating them one by one.

  Two was different, more tentative somehow, sniffing here and there but refusing to make a commitment.

  Three split its time between licking its wound and exploring, while four sat back and took it all in. Was it thinking? Or just so confused it didn't know what to do?

  The question was answered a few seconds later when number four took off down a tube, took two turns to the right, and cleared the maze.

  A few seconds later numbers one, two, and three confirmed what Lando was beginning to suspect, that baccas are smarter than they look, and followed four's lead. As usual the small robo-cam tagged along behind them.

  As the animals headed toward the underwater swim, most of the crowd followed, pulling Cy along. A few moments later Lando and Melissa had the surface of the maze all to themselves.

  "Well," Lando said, "what do you think?"

  "I think it's mean," Melissa answered without hesitation. "I felt sorry for number three. Will he be okay?"

  "I'm sure he will," Lando answered reassuringly. "How 'bout some ice cream while we wait?"

  "Yes please!" Melissa said, jumping up and down with excitement. Seconds later she had him by the hand and was towing him toward the nearest refreshment counter.

  Looking back over his shoulder, Lando saw Cy hovering over the thickest part of the crowd and decided the cyborg would have little trouble finding them. Life in a silver sphere might have its problems but it had some advantages too.

  It was a full fifteen minutes later before the baccas had found the way over, through, and around all the obstacles, and made the final dash for the finish line. Number two was first, with four second, three third, and one last. The winners roared with approval, while the losers threw their tickets toward the floor in disgust and ordered some more solace from one of the many vendors.

  Cy appeared out of nowhere, shouting, "I won! I won!" before speeding off toward a nearby pay-out window. Landc and Melissa traded amused grins as they ambled along behind. They were about fifty feet from the window when all hell broke loose.

  Someone shouted, "Grab that cyborg!" and the crowd swirled as a dozen people tried to obey.

  Lando looked up just in time to see a man throw his cape over Cy and attempt to bundle him up. Two men and a woman stepped in to assist while Melissa ran straight at them shouting, "Let him go! He hasn't done anything to you! Let him go!"

  Lando swore a blue streak as he followed, cursing Cy, cursing himself, and cursing his rotten luck. The four strangers had Cy almost under control by the time he arrived, but a flying body block and a bite or two from Melissa turned the tide.

  Breaking out from under the cape, Cy squirted himself upward, and yelled, "Follow me!" So saying he headed for the nearest exit.

  Breaking free of the hands that reached out to grab him, Lando grabbed Melissa's arm and followed the fleeing cyborg. He didn't get far. The stunner hit him right square between the shoulder blades.

  Lando dropped like a rock. He could see and hear but that was all. All of his muscles were locked into spasm. People yelled, robo-cams swarmed around him like flies on a corpse, and rough hands picked him up off the floor. Since Lando was facedown he saw nothing but floor.

  Lando heard a man say, "Yeah, the gambler's guild wants the borg for unpaid debts, and this guy tried to help him escape. The girl says her father's a Captain somebody or other. Book 'em and let the judge sort it out."

  Lando gave a silent groan. Surely things couldn't get any worse than this?

  But had Lando seen the bounty hunter with the green eyes and the flaming red hair he would've known the answer. Things could get worse. Much, much worse.

  11

  Like most jails this one was less than pleasant. Though the structure itself was reasonably modern, the inmates were the same scum who filled prisons everywhere, and something less than pleasant.

  Lando had been in four fights during the last twelve hours. Two involved protecting Cy from other prisoners, one centered around keeping his boots, and the last centered around his portion of slop the guards referred to as "dinner."

  Lando won all four, but with a constant flow of prisoners in and out of the holding pen, he'd soon be forced to prove himself again.

  The pen was roughly seventy-five feet long and about fifteen feet wide. At the moment a hundred twenty-three men shared this relatively small space and it was an extremely tight fit.

  Some lounged on the metal benches that lined two of the four walls, a few lay unconscious on the floor, and the rest stood around talking. Their conversation centered around sex and money mostly, with overtones of "What're you in for?" And "When you gettin' out?"

  For the most part they were all the same, drunks, addicts, petty thieves, and pimps. Rumor had it there was another nicer jail for important criminals like homicidal maniacs.

  The front of the holding cell featured floor-to-ceiling bars. Cy wanted to cut them using the torch concealed inside his metal torso, but Lando forbid him to do so, pointing out that they were in enough trouble without engineering a mass escape.

  So the two of them were snuggled into a much contested corner waiting for something to happen. Something that was way overdue. By now Cap should have sobered up, come dirtside, and bailed them out.

  And how about Melissa? Shortly after the arrest the police had taken her somewhere else. Somewhere nicer than where he was Lando hoped. But where was that? Had Sorenson come for Melissa and left the rest of his crew behind? Given the mess they were in Cap might consider such an action completely justified. There was no way to know.

  There was a stir toward the front of the cell. "Pik Lando! Pik Lando, front and center!" The voice belonged to a guard.

  Lando looked at Cy. The cyborg activated his antigrav unit and squirted himself toward the ceiling. He'd be out of reach up there, and as luck would have it, the bullies who'd bothered him earlier were out on bail.

  Seeing Lando's concern Cy did his best to sound unconcerned. "Don't worry, Pik, I'm good for a few hours yet, I'll see yo
u later."

  Lando nodded. He had very little choice. Maybe they'd call Cy's name next. A fight started over the rights to his corner as Lando made his way toward the front of the cell.

  The guard was small as guards go, with a small man's chip on his shoulder, and a slug gun to back it up. He had a blue plastic bag in his left hand. There was some sort of official seal stamped on the front of it.

  "Are you Pik Lando?"

  Lando nodded.

  "Stand in the red circle."

  Lando stood in the red circle and waited for the door to slide open.

  "Step outside."

  Lando did as he was told and heard the door slide closed behind him.

  "Follow the red line. One step off it and I'll blow your brains our through your smile."

  Lando followed the solid red line. It led down the corridor, through a heavily secured blast-proof door, and into a brightly lit interrogation chamber.

  The room was white except for some suspicious-looking stains on the walls and floor. There were a couple of sturdy-looking wooden chairs and a table with a plastic top. A woman with bright red hair, green eyes, and a nice figure perched on one corner.

  Lando took her for a cop at first, then realized his mistake and felt something heavy hit his stomach. A bounty hunter! It was written all over her. The casual stance, the cross-draw holster, the amused expression as he figured it out. What the hell was going on?

  The guard smiled. The bounty hunter was only slightly taller than he and nice to look at. "Is this the one?"

  "That's him," Della Dee agreed, "one Pik Lando, wanted for murder and interplanetary flight to avoid prosecution. Bounty number WMH 56843-F. Here's my license."

  Dee stood up to hand the guard a ragged piece of plastic.

  The guard gave the license a cursory glance and handed it back. "Did you plead him guilty and pay his fine?"

  "Signed, sealed, and delivered. Here's the receipt."

  The guard waved it away. "You headin' off-planet? I know a place that sells a great steak… real stuff… Terran stock."

  Dee produced a thousand-megawatt smile and a well-worn pair of handcuffs. "Sounds wonderful! I haven't had a good steak in a zillion rotations. Gotta take a rain check though… my ship lifts at 0200 hours."

  The guard was obviously disappointed. "Darn, that's too bad. Need any help with those cuffs?"

  "Don't think so," Dee replied, pulling Lando's arms behind his back and closing the cuffs with a practiced hand. "You just show us the door and we'll be on our way."

  "You got it," the guard replied. He handed her the blue bag. "Don't forget this. It's his personal effects. Money, a handgun, and some sort of wrist-mounted missile launcher."

  "What?" Dee asked as she accepted the bag. "No energy cannon?"

  The guard laughed and Dee smiled in return. In spite of her flip comment however, Dee remembered Dista, and Lando lying on the floor with the cyborg towering over him. Maybe he had good reasons for toting an arsenal. An arsenal he could've used inside the pavilion but hadn't.

  The guard opened the door and Dee nodded at Lando. He stepped through the door and into the hall. He was careful to stay relaxed, to give her the impression that he'd given up. His chance would come, but not here and not now.

  The guard said good-bye, and bit by bit they made their way through a succession of security checkpoints and into the cool night air.

  Each lamppost cast a pool of greenish-blue light, and the pools marched off into the distance, until they were little more than dots.

  A steady stream of cops and robbers came and went around them as Dee directed Lando to a parked ground car. She opened the back door and gestured for him to get inside. He didn't move.

  Dee pulled her slug gun and held it to Lando's head. "Get in the car or I'll blow your head off and send your retinas in for identification."

  Lando forced himself to ignore the gun. "I believe you, but before we get in that car, I want to know who you are and where we're going."

  Dee nodded, but the gun stayed where it was. "Fair enough. My name's Della Dee. You're wanted on Ithro so that's where we're going."

  "I suppose the fact that I'm innocent doesn't matter."

  "That's what they all say. Anything else?"

  Lando raised an eyebrow. "Can you be bought?"

  "Sure. Your bounty's two hundred and fifty thousand. Spot me that, plus another ten, and we'll have a drink."

  Lando thought about it. Even with the gold he couldn't raise that much. He smiled. "Sorry, I'm two hundred short. Can we have the drink anyway?"

  "Nope. Get in the car."

  Lando obeyed and heard Dee lock the door behind him. The ground car was an upscale luxury job with a roomy interior.

  Dee got in on the driver's side, dropped the blue bag onto the seat beside her, and started the engine.

  "Nice car."

  "Glad you like it," Dee replied cheerfully. "Only the best for you."

  "Rental job, huh?"

  "Yup."

  "Kind of expensive isn't it?"

  "I can afford it thanks to you," Dee replied as she pulled into traffic. "Besides, in my kind of business it pays to drive something heavy and fast."

  "Yeah," Lando replied. "I suppose it does."

  Both were silent for a while as Dee wove in and out of light traffic. They had just passed through the business district and entered Blast Town when Dee broke the silence.

  "Do the people behind us belong to you?"

  With some difficulty Lando managed to swivel around and look out the back window. There was a large hover truck right behind them. Dee changed lanes and the truck followed.

  "I don't think so," Lando replied. "My people would follow in a taxi or something like that."

  "I was afraid of that," Dee said grimly. "How 'bout that chrome-plated cyborg you waxed on Dista? Is there any chance he's after you?"

  Lando thought about Jord Willer. "Yeah, he's a distinct possibility, although I can't see how he'd find me here."

  "You've got to be kidding," Dee replied as she hit the gas and screeched around a corner. "The pavilion thing was all over the evening news. You were bound to make bail. They waited for you to come out."

  Lando fell sideways. "Wait a minute, how come you know about Jord Willer?"

  "Is that his name?" Dee asked, racing up an alley. "I was there when you shot him in the knees. Nice piece of work but stupid. Why so fancy? Why not grease him and be done with it?"

  "Because I don't like killing people," Lando replied, bracing himself with his feet as white light filled the inside of the car and the truck rammed them from behind. "They're getting kind of close, aren't they?"

  "Typical backseat driver," Dee replied evenly. "Uh-oh."

  Lando looked up just in time to see another set of headlights coming straight at them. There was no place to go. Dee stood on the brakes and pulled her gun at the same time. "Keep your head down, Lando. It's worth a lot of money."

  Dee opened her door and rolled out onto the pavement. A gun went off and the windshield shattered. There were two loud explosions as Dee returned fire followed by the stutter of an automatic weapon. Bullets stitched a line of holes along the car's roof line.

  Meanwhile Lando struggled to move his handcuffed hands from back to front. The hardest part was passing them under his rear end. After that it was relatively easy, passing them along his thighs, and out from under his feet.

  Dee fired three rounds from just outside the door. A man screamed. The car rocked as something made a deep booming sound and heavy projectiles hit the engine compartment. There was a popping sound and flames licked out from under the hood.

  Lando dived over the seat and scrabbled for the blue bag. Finding it he swore when it refused to open. The cuffs made it even harder. Damn! Damn! Damn!

  Then it was open and his fingers were closing around familiar grips. The mini-launcher would have been nice but there was no time to fool around with it. Opening the driver's side door he rolled out onto h
ard duracrete.

  Dee was there, crouched by the rear tire, firing over the trunk. Someone opened up with a blaster. Dee ducked as the energy weapon cooked the paint off the car's roof and trunk. Seeing Lando she brought her pistol up, then let it drop.

  "What the hell are you doing here? Thought I told you to keep your head down."

  "I'd like to keep it period," Lando answered, offering the bounty hunter his manacled wrists. "How many and where?"

  "About nine to begin with," Dee replied. She produced an electronic key and touched it to the cuffs. "I make it six now, two up front, and four behind."

  The cuffs clattered as they hit the ground.

  Lando nodded and rubbed his wrists. "Let's break out through the weak side."

  Dee ejected a half-empty magazine and slapped a fresh one into the butt of her gun. "Sounds good to me. By the way…"

  "Yeah?"

  "When this is over I still plan to take you in."

  Dee was up and running before Lando could reply. A gun flashed up ahead. Dee fired and heard a scream.

  Something whipped by Lando's head followed by a sharp cracking sound. He turned, saw someone silhouetted against a distant streetlight, and fired. The figure jerked and fell.

  There was a deep booming sound from Lando's left. He turned just in time to see Dee fall and Jord Willer step out of the shadows. Light rippled over the surface of the cyborg's chromed body. Willer held an automatic shotgun cradled in his arms. He was in the process of bringing it up when a cone of light pinned him to the ground.

  The voice came from somewhere above. "You there! This is the police! Drop your weapons! I repeat, this is the…"

  Someone fired and the spotlight snapped out. Lando rushed forward but the cyborg faded into the night. He turned to Dee. She lay in a crumpled heap. There was blood all over the place. Lando felt for her pulse. It was surprisingly strong. Her body armor had absorbed most of the blast.

  Lando scooped her up and started to run. Behind him the spotlight came on again as a police floater drifted groundward. Lando had no plan at first, just an overwhelming need to be somewhere else, away from the police and Willer's thugs.