13 Degrees of Separation (48 page)

“Made
it again,” someone in the back of the plane murmured. Nohar snorted. His seat
had been in the back originally, he'd been the last ticket to book. But the
humans had swapped, apparently they didn't like the idea of a predator behind
them. An angry, scared predator. He couldn't blame them, he thought, relaxing.
He cracked his good eye and reached for the switch buried in his right arm.

He'd
had Hank install the thing a while back. Sometimes it worked, other times... it
was getting tricky, the damn implants didn't want to come back online,
sometimes they balked. Hank had muttered something or other about too low a
starting voltage. He didn't believe that. Electronics weren't like ignitions
they didn't need a burst of power to boot. He may not remember a lot from school,
it had after all, been centuries ago, but he did remember that much.

Fortunately,
after he flipped the plastic tiger striped cover over his bicep up and hit the
switch, his right eye immediately flickered. He hated that, the sudden burst of
light, but had no choice. It added to his pain. He growled again, feeling his
left eye water a little as static filled part of his vision. It would take a
minute or two until the thing booted. Already he could see distinct shapes in
the snow.

His
right ear flopped uselessly and then raised. The ear was a little better, the
volume went up and down, adding to his discomfort, but he was used to that by
now. The inner ear thing though... his left hand gripped the arm rest again as
his stomach flopped. Damn thing, he thought, feeling it settle down as its
internal gyro-compass stabilized. He hated that, it did an inversion during
boot. Just another stupid thing to someday, somehow get fixed.

“We all
right?” the female asked. He could hear people babbling behind him.

“Just
peachy,” he growled, eyes open. He turned his head, feeling abused muscles
complain, but ignored them for the time being. His back felt like a stick had
been shoved up it. “Ground sweet ground. I'm getting too old for this,” he
grumbled.

“I was
going to ask if it was your first time but from the arm and eye...” the woman
said indicating his right side.

“Yes
I'm a sleeper from the Xeno War,  I caught a plasma mortar round. Corona of it
actually, otherwise I would have been dust,” Nohar said unbuckling his seat
belt. They'd had to improvise it for him, though not by much. Apparently there
were some fat humans who liked to fly on this flight a lot.

“Ah, I
see,” the woman said, touching up her hair and white ascot. “Almost there
folks,” she said peering through the port hole in the door. The aircraft
engines were winding down, the aircraft slowed and then stopped. They could
hear the whine of the engines as the fuel was cut off. The steady chop, chop,
chop started breaking up as the propellers slowed. There was a bump and a
clang, then a shave and a hair cut knock. The stewardess smiled slightly and
then turned the wheel and opened the door outward.

Sunlight
and warm wet air swam in past her. She made herself flat against the door
briefly and then used a chock to prop the door open. “Welcome to Ring City, I
hope you enjoyed your flight,” she said, sounding bored. “Please get your
things from the overhead, the plane will not be available if you misplaced or
lost anything. Your check-in luggage will be available in the terminal. Thank
you for flying Red eye express.”

She got
through her speech and then stepped to the side and made herself as small as
possible. Since Nohar was centimeters from the door he flicked his ears and
then nodded politely to her and pulled his bag out from under the seat, and the
second out from the overhead. He was the first one out the door, ignoring the
sighs of relief that he was gone.

The
metal stairs were quickly behind him as he trotted to the terminal. He had only
one piece of carryon luggage, his pistol case. It'd better be there too or he'd
be pissed, he thought. They seriously didn't want him pissed. He yanked the
door open with a little more force than required and then paused as his eyes
adjusted to the interior.

His
right eye was still acting up, but he had enough depth perception and of course
his left eye was working just fine. He turned, and oriented on the sign with
the arrow to baggage claim. He needed to get the gun and get out of here before
he started picking up flack.

...*...*...*...*...

 He
checked the gun safe, still locked. He nodded and tucked it under his arm and
headed for the exit. Now he needed a ride. Preferable a vehicle, but... he
looked at the rental agency. Bikes mostly. The few automobiles they had were
all rust buckets. Besides, their rates were terrible. He'd pass that on to his
client but knew the damn neolion would balk at paying the full cost.

He had
his gun in the safe not because of any concern for safety... okay maybe a
little on the plane, but because of the humans. Humans were scared of
Neofelines enough as it is, one packing heat would have them all scrambling to
get a damn busy body flat foot to chase him down. He didn't need that.

Besides,
theft was rampant on this planet, another reason to hate it. His gun safe had a
tracker which he could use. He'd had to use it twice to get his gun back from
would be thieves since he'd made landfall on this dirty mudball.

And the
other reason to keep the gun in the safe? Hazard. Hodges wasn't thrilled about
Neo's, and his pet Sheriff Rosco Coltrain was an even more pain in the ass. Get
on their bad side even further and you'd best get out of town or they'd make
sure you disappeared.

He
turned, noting the palm trees and snorted. Palm trees, jungle trees... he waved
flies away from his face. Yup, he was near the tropics. Ring City was a tourist
trap, it got most of its traffic from snow birds in the late fall and winter.
Now that it was mid spring they were probably shifting gears. He'd heard that
someone with more money than sense had started a cruise ship line from
Fisherman's Wharf to Ring City… another way to soak people out of their money.
Whatever, he thought, looking around for and then spotting the bus stop.
Lovely, he thought, making tracks for it.

Ring
City was a loose city, tourist trap. People here dressed in shorts, tank tops,
and other things. Flat foots and Detectives even wore shorts, it was just too
hot not to. The city was much like some of the other Major cities, still not
beyond the 20
^th
 century Earth mark. Wires were everywhere, phones
and electricity may have made it to the city, but they weren't set up very
well. In some parts of town not at all. Some had running water but no trash
pickup. Others had sewer but no running water. Of course the places where the
tourists stayed had all the comforts of home. And that was where Nohar headed
to. Well, as close to the center of the city as he could get.

...*...*...*...*...

Once he had his baggage he settled onto the next task. He
had a map of the city in his database, though it was a couple of years old, and
had no labels. He oriented on his location and then headed to where he wanted
to go, the center of the city. The center was most likely where the seat of
power was, and it would also give him a central location from which to access
any part of the city. He'd have a hell of a time orienting though, and didn't
like the idea of trying to make contacts here.

When he
got to the center of the city he turned, looking around. There weren't any
hotels, which surprised him. An ancient mission, the local library, police
headquarters, city hall... utilities, no hotel or motel. Businesses though, and
parking garages. Concrete galore which both amused and annoyed him.

He
turned, padding over to a local bus stop and then stared at a rather faded
map-board. Someone had scrawled graffiti on it, which annoyed him, but he got
the gist of it after he oriented on the 'you are here' star marker. Of course
the thing had sites and Major businesses, no hotels. Dead end.

He
thought about it. He'd been here before, but only briefly. He'd never actually
stayed in the city, the case had been open and shut in under a day. There had
been no need to check in. This case though... no he needed a hotel.

He
spotted a diner nearby and headed to it.

“We
don't serve your kind here kitty, best move along,” a cold blue eyed woman said
from behind the bar. She had a set on her to say that to him.

“I'm
just looking for information ma'am. I need a hotel or motel nearby,” he said.

She
frowned. After a long moment of trying to stare him down she turned and spat.
“Go up yonder, up second street, take a right on lime, 'nother right on lemon,
and you'll find the ole Luxan.”

“Thank
you ma'am,” he said nodding politely to her.

She
grunted and muttered something about neos and polite Neo's. He ignored it and
followed her directions.

...*...*...*...*...

The inn
she had directed him to was a rundown dingy thing, not much to look at, all
stone and brick, but home, he thought. He didn't need much, just a safe place
to bed down and store his gear. He'd stayed in worse dives he thought, entering
the building.

“Can
I... oh my!” a Neocat said from behind the desk. He snorted. She was a Siamese
mix, a domestic, short, under a 100 centimeters. A tiny little thing compared
to him. “Um, you are a big boy,” she murmured wickedly. He snorted again.

“Thanks,”
he murmured. “I'm looking for a room.”

“How
long are you planning to stay?” she asked, flipping through a ledger concealed
behind the counter. He shifted uncomfortably until she looked up expectantly.

“I
honestly don't know. Put me down for a week,” he finally admitted. “If it's
longer I'll let you know,” he said.

“Here
on business?” she asked. He nodded. “Got the credits?” she asked. “We're not
cheap, though we look it. Since we're at the center of things...” she shrugged
helplessly.

“I've
got it covered,” he said gruffly, pulling out credit coins from a pouch. He
handed a gold over to her, worth 100 credits.

“That's
enough for two days,” she said.

He
sighed and pulled out 2 more and then a silver 50 marker. “And you'll need a
deposit,” she said. He sighed and pulled out a fourth hundred marker. “Room
service is not covered. I wouldn't advice it anyway, nasty food here,” she
said.

“Glad
you have company loyalty,” he chuffed, laughing. He flicked his ears in
appreciation of her blunt honesty. The fingers of his good hand pushed the
credit coins to her.

“Just
saying it like it is,” she said, gathering the coins up. She plopped the ledger
down onto the counter. “Sign the ledger,” she said, holding out a pen. He took
the awkward thing and signed his name. She turned it and read it. “Nohar huh?”

“Yes'
ma'am,” he said with a nod.

“Nice
that' you've got manners, not everyone does around here. Well, I've put you in
a ground suite. It's in the West wing. Sorry, the East wing is under
renovation, she said with a helpless shrug.

“Okay,”
he said warily.

“It
gets hot in the afternoon. I wouldn't want to stay in one during the day. Sleep
after dark,” she said. “Which shouldn't be a problem for a cat like you, out
prowling.”

“Story
of my life,” he admitted. “Safe?”

“Oh
yes, ole Burney over there patrols every hour,” she said, pointing to a Neo
grizzly well past his prime. Nohar turned to look. The bear was sprawled in a
recliner with one hand paw on his considerable gut. He was out cold, mouth open
catching flies. His tongue was hanging out one side. “He's on break,” she
admitted.

“Right,”
Nohar drawled, turning back to the cat. “I meant a safe. A place to store my
valuables,” he said putting one of his bags and his gun safe up on the counter.

“Oh,
um, yes there is one in the room, a small one. It won't fit that. If you want,
we can store it in the hotel safe but it's an extra fee...”

He
sighed and handed the coin over to her. She smiled politely and reached for the
items. He grunted and allowed her to take the bag but kept the gun safe for
now.

“I'll
give this to you later,” Nohar replied. He had a chore to do, a ritual he
always preformed.

“Fine
then, room is that way,” the feline said, pointing to his right. He nodded. She
passed a room key over to him with a tag. The tag read room 81. "Great,
Long walk", he thought to himself as he went. At least the veranda caught
the early evening breeze, he thought, moving along.

...*...*...*...*... 

In the
room he settled his duffel onto the bed and then sat in the wooden chair with
the gun safe in his lap. He keyed the lock with his implant and then opened it.

It had
a vacuum seal which made a shushing sound as the seal was broken. He smiled at
the contents inside. “Matilda,” he said softly, stroking the huge pistol.

Carefully
he took it out and did a thorough cleaning, a ritual he'd done on all his tough
jobs. Matilda was a custom Neo revolver with 50 caliber rounds. She'd put
anything down, bear, cat, whatever, even a car's engine block. It was a custom
job, one of two he had, the other was stored in a locker in Gotham.