Landfall (The Reach, Book 2) (18 page)

“Well, for what it’s worth…
thank you.”  Roman seemed embarrassed by opening up in this way, but Knile was thankful for what he had said.  It meant a lot to him that Roman had, in some small way, found a way to forgive him.

Knile smiled.  “You’re welcome.”

He took another bite and glanced around the marketplace.  It was a lonely sight at this time of night.  There was an old man in a yellow station cap cleaning stains off the floor nearby with a mop, and a drunk who’d passed out on the other side of the thoroughfare, but otherwise there was no one else to be seen.

“I kinda expected more,” Roman said absently as he too stared across the marketplace.

“Huh?  More what?”

“The Reach, I mean.  I expected life to be better for these people than down in Link.”

Knile cast his eye again over the drab surroundings – the grey, rusted walls and scuffed walkways, the cramped confines and shadowy corners.

“Not here.  Not in Gaslight.  Sure, the people who live here are one step closer to the Wire than those in Link, but they still do it tough.”

Knile had to remind himself that the boy had never really seen the Reach before, apart from the lower levels that he had frequented while working on Grove convoys.  Roman had lived all of his life in Link.  After all of those years staring up at the place and dreaming what it would be like within, Knile could understand Roman’s feeling of being underwhelmed.  Gaslight itself was nothing special to look upon.

“Things aren’t so bad up in Lux,” Roman said.

“Sure, they eat better.  They have more shiny things to pla
y
with.”  Knile dabbed some grease from the corner of his mouth.  “How much of it did you actually see?”

“A little.  Honeybul took me straight to Rojas’ place, and after they did the deal I went inside.  That’s when the bastard jabbed me.  Knocked me out with some kind of drug.”

Knile stopped chewing for a moment and leaned forward, concerned.

“You haven’t spoken about it yet,” he said carefully.  “Did he do anything to you?  Did he–?”

“How should I know?  I was out to it.  When I came to, I was alone in the room and tied up like a hog.  By the time I’d loosened up the ropes I heard him coming back, so I pretended to be asleep.”

“And that’s when I got there?”

“Yeah, pretty much.  He asked me some weird questions.  Called me by some other name.”  Roman shrugged.  “Who knows?  The guy’s a basket case.”

“What do you think he wanted with you?”

“Don’t know.  I didn’t want to hang around to find out.  When his back was turned I slipped free and slammed him across the head, and that’s when you walked in.”

“Well, you got out.  That’s the main thing.”

Roman turned the stick over and began to eat from the other side.

“What about the other Candidates?” Roman said.  “You said you gave the old man a good scare.”

“Yeah, I did.  I’m going to keep tabs on our friend Honeybul.  If he doesn’t shut the program down and let the kids go, I’ve told him he’s going to take a leap from a very great height.”

Roman raised an eyebrow.  “You’d kill him?”

“I won’t need to.  He’s spineless.  He’ll do what he’s told.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Knile picked the last morsel from the chow stick and placed it down on the counter, then picked up a new one.

“I guess I should have asked you this before,” Knile said, changing the topic.  “Where do you want me to take you?”

Roman’s brow furrowed.  “I don’t get you.”

“Well,” Knile explained, “I assumed that if you had the choice of where to go from here, that you’d want to come off-world with me.  If you don’t, you should speak up now.  I’m not going to force you into anything.”

“You mean, would I rather just go back to Grove?”

“Yeah.”

“No, I don’t want that.”

“You don’t like it there?”

Roman sighed.  “Giroux had me working on his financials for a while.  I’m good with numbers.”

“Yeah, I know,” Knile grinned.  “Remember all those nights you complained when I made you do sums?  And how I told you they’d come in handy one day?”

“Oh, learned master,” Roman drawled.  He made a mocking bow.  “You are so wise.”

“Gratitude,” Knile huffed.

“Anyway, Skinny was Giroux’s regular financials guy, but he got sick and there was no one else around.”  Roman paused.  “I saw enough to know that things aren’t going well for Giroux.  Grove is a sinking ship.  There’s no long-
term future there.”

“So that’s why you joined the Candidate program?”

“Yeah.  I didn’t see a point in waiting around for the whole thing to come crashing down.  Better to get out of there before that happened.”  He picked something out of his teeth and tossed it away.  “I mean, don’t get me wrong.  It’s a nice place.  I just can’t see how it’s going to last.  And I’m sick of worrying about whether or not I’m going to have somewhere to live next week or next month.  Y’know?  I want some security.  Seems every place I ever lived in has fallen apart.”

“So you’re happy to come along for the ride with Talia and me?”

Roman shrugged.  “Sure.  I don’t see a better option right now.”  He seemed to think of something.  “How are you going to do that, by the way?  Get all three of us off-world.”

“I don’t know yet.”

“And how are you going to get Talia inside the Reach?”

“I haven’t figured that out either, but I’m sure there’ll be some way to do it.”

“You certain of that?  There’s a lot of security down there at the gate.”

“There’s always a way through.”

Roman gave him a sceptical look.  “You think?”

“The Enforcers aren’t really interested in keeping one
hundred percent of the illegals out.  That’s not really feasible, not with the resources they have.  As long as they hit ninety-five, ninety-six percent, they’re happy.  They’d have to make a lot of changes to catch that last five percent, and they’re
not going to do
that.  Too much hard work.”

Roman nodded.  “I remember that you used to come and go from the Reach all the time.”

“Exactly.  When I had all of my contacts, the people who could do things for me, I could slip in and out whenever I wanted.  I was one of those five percent they couldn’t be bothered catching.”

“In the end, I hardly saw you,” Roman said.  His voice was even, containing no bitterness, as if he were simply recalling a routine event.  “You’d spend weeks at a time up here.”

“Yeah.  I was busy learning everything I could about the Reach.”  He gave Roman a rueful look.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you–”

“Look,” Roman said, holding up his palm, “we’ve been over this.  It’s all right.  You don’t have to keep apologising because you had your own things to do.”

“Okay.  Sure.”

“You want beer?” the proprietor interjected.  “I have good Martian beer.”  He held up a bottle with ‘Red Dust Lager’ printed on the label.  “Imported.  Finest ingredients.”

“Tuckerbox only stocks the best, right?” Knile said wryly.  He gave Roman a wink.

“Tuckerbox best, yes,” the man said, oblivious to Knile’s mocking tone.

“I’ll pass.”

“Five creds,” the man persisted.  “Bargain.”

Knile ignored him and turned back to Roman, then jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Do you want another chow stick?”

“Shit, no.”

“Let’s get moving, then.”

Roman tossed the remains of his chow stick on the counter, then they both pushed off their stools and began to walk away.

“Four creds!” the proprietor called after them.  “And free chow stick!”

“Maybe next time,” Knile called back.  He clapped Roman on the shoulder.  “There.  Don’t you feel better now with a chow stick in your belly?”

“No.  I feel sick to my stomach.”

“Don’t worry.  You’ll get used to the fine cuisine of Gaslight in time.”  Knile glanced around as he planned out where to go next.  “Now let’s go find Talia.”

18

The man known as Mr. Silvestri sat across the table from Talia, watching her carefully as the other patrons in the crowded tavern laughed and drank and did whatever else tavern patrons do at two in the morning.  Talia wished she were just another among their ranks, someone who had come out for the night for some fun and who could simply lose her troubles at the bottom of a pint of ale.

Instead she was here trying to make a deal with a dangerous man she hardly knew.

Silvestri continued to sit there, arched back in his chair as he idly turned an antique silver coin over in his fingers.  He regarded her with a measuring look but said nothing.  He was a dark-skinned man dressed smartly in a burgundy satin vest, and around his neck he wore a heavy gold chain that matched a gold front tooth that Talia had glimpsed when he’d offered her a welcoming smile.  He was somewhat guarded, reserved, she thought, playing his cards close to his chest.  While he hadn’t been outwardly threatening, she couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved by his demeanour.

“I can’t do it,” Mr. Silvestri said finally, spreading his hands wide and pressing his lips together apologetically as he leaned forward.  “I’m sorry.”

Talia frowned, confused.  “Can’t do it?  What do you mean?”

“I can’t offer you my services, Ms. Anders.  It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Not appropriate?  What does that have to do with anything?”  She looked around the room again, wondering not for the first time if she was playing into Capper’s hands by appearing in such a public place.  “I have the cash.  You have the service.  I was told by an old fence of mine that you’re a serious player.”

“I
am
a serious player.”

“So do you want my creds or not?”

Mr. Silvestri leaned back again.  “It’s not as simple as that.”

“Why not?”

“It just isn’t.”

Talia exhaled, annoyed.  “Mr. Silvestri, I came here at great risk to myself.  I shouldn’t be seen in public, not right now.”

“This is where I conduct business.  I don’t meet elsewhere.”

“And now, after all this, you tell me you can’t help me?”  He sat very still and made no response.  “Look, I’m not rich, but I’ve scraped together some creds over the years.  I’m prepared to reward you very, very generously for your time–”

“It’s not about the cash.”

“Look, Mr. Silvestri, it’s real simple.  You protect me for twelve hours, and I give you a load of creds at the end of it.  No big deal.”

Silvestri shook his head.  “I play the odds, Ms. Anders.  And this man you speak of, this Capper… I don’t like the odds of going against him.”

“What are you afraid of?  He’s just a small-time hood–”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Silvestri said calmly, staring down at the silver dollar in his hand.  “I said I don’t like the odds.”

“I was told you would offer protection for the right price,” Talia said acidly, attempting to get under his skin.  “Seems that wasn’t strictly true.”

Silvestri frowned slightly as if mildly perturbed.  “You don’t know anything about Capper, do you?  I can tell.”

“No.  Never heard of him before a couple of days ago.”

“Let me fill you in.”  Silvestri leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice.  “This man, Capper, he’s not a powerbroker in Link.  Not yet.  But he’s something that might be even worse than that.  He’s unpredictable.  Irrational.  They say he walked into the Enforcer barracks here in Link last month asking to see the superintendent about some grievance.  An hour later he walked calmly out
of the building, thanking them all for their time, and when they checked the superintendent’s office they found that he’d been gagged and tortured before having his throat slit.”

Talia snorted.  “You believe that bullshit?  How’d he get the supe alone?”

“It’s not the only story I’ve heard about him.  There’s plenty more.”

“So you’re afraid of fairy tales.”

“I have reason to believe there’s truth in at least some of them.”

“Yeah.  Sure.”

“He only has a few men in his crew,” Mr. Silvestri went on, “but if he’s after you, I fear that he’ll send them at you in ways you won’t see coming.  That
I
won’t see coming.”  He shrugged.  “So whether or not there’s a nice reward waiting at the end of this is irrelevant to me.  If I don’t like the odds, I don’t join the game.”

“In that case, you’re no use to me,” Talia said flatly.

Mr. Silvestri inclined his head.  “So it would seem.”  He held up a finger as Talia made ready to leave and she stopped, glaring at him impatiently.  “How did you get on the bad side of these people, Ms. Anders?”

Talia made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat.  “That’s the stupid part.  They think I have something, but I don’t.  I’ve already told them as much, but…”