The Neo-Spartans: Altered World (30 page)

              “Shut up. What do you think?” she said. She modeled her sluttier self, midriff exposed, hair down, collar up, the two top buttons loosened.

              He appraised her. “Amazing what chicks can do just like that.”

              “Women, Nico,” she said, explaining. “What women can do.”

              Nico and Quinn climbed aboard their bikes and sped off into the night.

              From the darkness a short distance away, Tyra had been watching and hearing all of it. “Yeah,” she said to herself, “what women can do.” She wheeled the late Jared’s bike from behind some trees, climbed aboard it, and coasted away in the opposite direction.

* * *

             
Julius relaxed on a divan, drink in hand, as he watched the floorshow unfold before him.

              “
Uh-huh, and then what?” asked Julius.
               “So she shows up to lure the kid–”

              “The Neo-Spartan.”

              “Yep, the Neo-Spartan, she shows up to lure him—that was my job—alone. The guys are waiting around the corner per Nico’s orders. She and the kid do this play acting—he clocks her hard, blood all over, she almost passes out.”

              “And then?”

              “He takes a hike, Nico and guys step in but it’s too late. He’s gone,” Tyra wrapped up the story and waited to see what effect it had on Julius.

              "This is a mighty farfetched story. You’re saying one of my key lieutenants is going behind my back. Screwing me over. You do know what happens to people who try to play me, right?”

“Who doesn’t? Listen, boss, I do like this package,” Tyra showcased her tight clad body, “and I do hope to squeeze the maximum enjoyment out of it, so I wouldn’t jeopardize this by waltzing in here and feeding you some bull. If you don’t get a phone call in the next ten minutes telling you how it all went awry, feel free snap me like a–”

              Tyra didn’t get a chance to finish; her pitch was interrupted by a phone jingle. Julius shot a look, picked up the phone.

              “Go for Julius.” He listened and whatever he heard made him slide both legs to the floor and sit up.

“They had him but he what?”

Tyra bit her cheeks, resisting the grin that wanted to break across her face. Julius was unpredictable, so there was no use goading him.

“
He slugged her and ran away!?” He was on his feet now, 280 pounds of rage staring hard at Tyra.

* * *

              Especially in his weakened state, it was all Gabriel could do to maintain a straight face witnessing the crisis that he and Davies had created. The infirmary hallway at the Citadel looked and sounded more like the maternity ward at a downtown hospital. Sick, moaning Neo-Spartan boys sent up an ear-piercing wail as Grisner marched along. “All of them are sick? All of them? How does this happen!?” demanded Grisner.

              Mallory burst through a door as if on fire.

              “I came as soon as I heard you were here,” he said, barely able to stand still. As he neared, Grisner saw the sea of pimples and boils that inhabited the doctor’s face.

              “What in hell happened to you? No wonder they’re sick. You’ve contaminated them!”

              “I didn’t contaminate them, I know what I’m doing,” insisted Mallory. “They came down with something. It happens. It’s science!”

              “Nonsense,” Grisner snorted. “These aren’t shrinking violets, these are Neo-Spartans. These are the toughest lot around. They don’t just come down with something.” Grisner paced and fumed. “How long does this set you back?”

              Mallory made calculations, his head spinning. “Two or three days to get over whatever is attacking them. Another week for them to stabilize,” he stammered.

              “You’re going to be set back ten days? Tell me,” he said, getting in Mallory’s poxied face, “do you think your patient has that kind of luxury?”

              “Proceeding now would be pointless,” Mallory said, strutting and fretting.

              “You better hope he lasts or he won’t be the only one exploring the wonders six feet under.”

              Gabriel’s aching head grew even larger, but as a white-clad assistant rushed into the corridor he suddenly felt the world getting smaller. He recognized the can of Demon Juice in the assistant’s hand as he presented it to Mallory and saw it snatched away by Grisner.

              “It was under a mattress in one of the subject’s cells,” said the assistant.

              “Demon Juice. Do you have any idea what’s in this?” he said to Mallory.

              “I use it all the time, the late nights, the experiments, the stress…” replied Mallory.

              “Well sure, you’re Eugenic. Your system is already completely shot, doesn’t matter what you put in it. But these guys, they’re like race horses. The slightest corrosive element in their fuel supply and they’re sick and useless, no matter how strong they are. The question is… where’d the Demon Juice come from? You’re not feeding it to them.”

              “We want this to succeed,” said Mallory indignantly.

              “Seems to me there’s somebody here that doesn’t it want to succeed. Assemble them. Bring them out in front of me.” Grisner’s phone buzzed at him and he quickly read the incoming call screen. “Julius… this better be good.” He listened a moment. “Right now?” said Grisner as he looked around at all the useless moaning patients. “You’re already on thin ice; you want to take this risk?” Grisner listened again. “Is that right? … I’ll be there soon.” He turned to Mallory. “Get them well,” he said, and marched out of the room.

              Gabriel realized he’d been holding his breath in fear. He exhaled deeply. They were off the hook for the moment. They’d bought some time, and with time, hope.

              Grisner skidded his Social Defense Force vehicle to a stop at Julius’s brownstone. He leapt out, pushed past Julius’s bodyguards and scrambled his way down into Julius’s harem-like inner sanctum. Soft jazz played.

              “Green lizard?” asked Julius, referring to a drink he sipped. “One-fifty-one rum mixed with Green
Chartreuse
. Good for what ails you.”

              “What’s the bad news?” asked Grisner.

              “Say hello to Chief Grisner, sweet cheeks,” Julius said to someone across the darkened room. Grisner turned and found Tyra moving toward him.

              “This is Tyra,” said Julius. “Last night a doctor on my payroll called me to say there was a Neo-Spartan boy making an unscheduled midnight visit. I dispatched a team and Tyra was one of the members.”

              “You dispatched a team without my escort?” snorted Grisner.

              “It was the middle of the night. The kid was grabbing the medicine and vamoosing. Who’s gonna wait for an escort?”

              “So what happened?” asked Grisner, turning to Tyra.

              “This would have been the last one, right?” said Tyra, looking to Julius for confirmation. “Well, it went south,” Tyra grinned.

              “What does she mean it went south?” Grisner growled.

              “Nico messed up the grab intentionally. ’cause of this girl who joined the Vaqueros recently.”

              “Indeed, what was that name again?” Julius asked Tyra with a crooked smile.

              “Quinn. Quinn McKenna.”

              “What would she be doing down here?” Grisner hoarsely asked Tyra.

              “All I know is she was fightin’ for the Vaqueros. You saw her. The one in the mask.”

              Grisner’s already ruddy complexion went redder than the blood he planned to spill over this news. He wheeled on Tyra who backed away. “You. What’s your game?” he asked.

              Tyra laughed mirthlessly. “Simple. Power. The Vaqueros. I want to be their boss.”

              Grisner shot a look at Julius who shrugged. “Fine by me, long as they keep winning.”

              Grisner shifted his eyes back to Tyra, but he didn’t actually see her. What he did see was a way to rectify the inconvenience this situation had caused him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

              Nico and Quinn had wordlessly taken refuge in Nico’s upper floor digs. Nico paced and glanced out the window several times, and the final time, he cursed quietly at what he saw. Quinn joined him but he edged her aside.

              “What is it?” she asked, worried.

              Below, a cohort of uniformed Social Defense Forces, neuro-blasters drawn, poured into the area down on the floor. The Vaqueros rose as one to meet them. Nico turned to Quinn.

              “Hide,” he said. “You can’t be here. Maybe I can lie well enough to get rid of them, but if they think we’re harboring a Neo-Spartan it could get really ugly.”

              “But if it’s me they’re after–”

              “Let’s not make it that easy for them, huh?” Nico said and headed down.

              Grisner was just breaking the threshold as Nico hit the last step.

              “Well, well, if it isn’t the lanista deluxe, the gladiator’s best friend,” said Grisner.

              Nico plastered on a grin. “You’re Julius’s
amigo
, right? Come back looking for a fight, did you? Well, you came to the right place, but I guess you know that.”

              Julius himself entered with Tyra in tow.

              “
Bienvenido
, old chum,” said Nico, laying it on thick.

              “You’re not going to
bienvenido
your way out of this guacamole, Nico. He knows everything,” Julius said, shaking his head.

              “He might know what poor out of it Tyra has to say, but come on, let’s get real,” said Nico.

Grisner wheeled on Nico. “Where is she?” he bellowed.

              “You want girls, go down the street. We’re fighters here,” said Nico.

              “She always upstairs in Nico’s quarters,” squawked Tyra.

              “Tell that to shut up,” Grisner grunted at Julius.

              Julius shoved Tyra aside. “Maybe you want to remember who you’re talking to, old friend,” Julius said calmly.

              “You’re right. Why am I getting my hands dirty when I’ve got you?”

              Julius stalked up to him. “What did you say to me?”

              “You’re not at home with your family here, Julius. These flotsam and jetsam, they’re mine. Now here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to find out from this silver-tongued piece of crap where the girl is.”

              “Or…?”

              Grisner got in Julius’s face and whispered, “Or there’s a certain list without your name on it. I’m your link to the end of the decade, buddy-boy. You listen and you do.”

              Quinn watched from the safety of her eyrie, and even though she couldn’t hear it all, she could tell things were tense. She eased out the door, and down the stairs to get closer. She noticed that it had begun to rain. Just a drizzle, but the clap of thunder and a jolt of lightning promised something large. The drizzle just made the dusty Vaqueros muddy looking and even more uncomfortable.

              Julius moved to Nico. “Tell the man what he wants to know. Where’s the girl?”

              “Like I said, you want girls–”

              “Enough. The girl with the mask,” said Julius.

              “Try some persuasion,” shouted Grisner.

              Apology lodged in his eye, the huge Julius fired a thundering right into Nico’s gut. “Tell him,” he said. The Vaqueros tensed in response but backed off quickly as the neural-laser Social Defense Forces swept their devices across the crowd.

              Grisner observed the Vaqueros’ move and realized the extent of their loyalty to their nominal leader. He stepped forward and addressed them. “You clowns, you Vaqueros, you’d even think about stepping up and helping this thing… this creature that betrayed you? Don’t you know who he’s protecting? How he’s endangered you?”

              He was greeted with stunned silence. “Let me walk you through this. Recently a girl has entered your midst. She and Nico have persuaded you everything is going to change. Take it from me, it’s not. He’s betrayed you and now he’s using your silence to protect him and this new girl. This Neo-Spartan.”