Hunter's Run Part 24

"What I told you, hijo, hijo, " the supervisor said. "End of the line." " the supervisor said. "End of the line."

A wall screen popped once and then hummed to life. The h.e.l.lish little interrogation room came into being, canted at a disturbing angle. He could see the back of the constable's head and the place where the man was just starting to bald. Across from him, Elena was looking annoyed and fidgeting with a cigarette. Ramon coughed.

"Hey! Hey, wait. No f.u.c.king way. No way! I just broke it off with her. She's f.u.c.king loca loca! You can't believe a thing she says!"

The governor shot a glance at the supervisor. The Enye's wetoyster eyes seemed to flicker as it considered Ramon. The woman pretended she hadn't heard him.

"Senor Espejo," the supervisor said. "Extradition hearing needs the governor, a representative of the foreign power, a representative of the police, and the accused. That's you. Doesn't say a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing about the accused getting to talk. With all due respect for your rights as a citizen, this is your chance to shut the f.u.c.k up before I gag you. Okay?"

On the screen, the constable and Elena were going through the motions-stating her name and address, whether she knew Ramon Espejo.

"But she's a liar!" Ramon said, embarra.s.sed to hear the whine in his voice.

"I known that a.s.s-wipe for seven years," Elena said from the screen. "Whenever he comes to town, he stays with me. Eats my food, leaves his c.r.a.p on my floor. I even washed his pinche pinche clothes, you believe that? I got a good job, and I'm spending my time off-s.h.i.+ft making sure that slack-a.s.s clothes, you believe that? I got a good job, and I'm spending my time off-s.h.i.+ft making sure that slack-a.s.s cabron cabron has clean socks!" has clean socks!"

"So you would call your relations.h.i.+p with Senor Espejo an intimate one?"

Elena glanced at the constable, then down at the floor, shrugging.

"I guess," she said. "I mean. Yeah. We were intimate."

"In your time with Senor Espejo-seven years, you said? You washed his laundry often?"

"Sure," Elena said.

"She never-" Ramon began. The supervisor shook his head once-left, right, stop-with a sense of threat that made Ramon go quiet.

"And in that time," the constable said, "did you ever come across this garment?"

With a flourish, he produced the robe. Ramon looked over at the 291 291 Enye. Its gaze was on the screen, its tongue moving restlessly, darting in and out of its mouth, the fringe of chartreuse cilia that lined its body squirming like worms.

I've got to tell them, Ramon thought. Ramon thought. For f.u.c.k's sake, I got to tell For f.u.c.k's sake, I got to tell them now before they give me to that thing. them now before they give me to that thing. Secondhand visions danced through his mind-the Silver Enye on their path of slaughter. What methods would they devise to wring information from a human? All he had to do was talk, say a few words, and condemn Maneck's people to death. How f.u.c.king hard could that be? Secondhand visions danced through his mind-the Silver Enye on their path of slaughter. What methods would they devise to wring information from a human? All he had to do was talk, say a few words, and condemn Maneck's people to death. How f.u.c.king hard could that be?

"That rag? All the time," Elena said. "Leaves it on the floor of the f.u.c.king bathroom whenever he takes a shower. And you know why?

Because he thinks I'm his G.o.dd.a.m.n maid! Pendejo. Pendejo. I'll tell you what, I'm way better off without him. Kicking his a.s.s out was the best thing I ever did!" I'll tell you what, I'm way better off without him. Kicking his a.s.s out was the best thing I ever did!"

Ramon's panic had deafened him, so it took a moment before the meaning of her words came to him. He turned to the screen, his jaw slack. In the interrogation room, silence stretched. The constable's mouth moved as if he were speaking, but no words escaped. Elena scratched herself indelicately. Ramon's head spun. It was bulls.h.i.+t.

Elena couldn't couldn't have seen this robe, not even after he'd come back from the hospital. She was lying, and lying in just the right way to save his sorry a.s.s. He couldn't understand it. have seen this robe, not even after he'd come back from the hospital. She was lying, and lying in just the right way to save his sorry a.s.s. He couldn't understand it.

"Are you sure sure of that?" the constable asked. His voice sounded a little strangled. "Please take a very close look at this. You're sure you've seen this particular piece of clothing?" of that?" the constable asked. His voice sounded a little strangled. "Please take a very close look at this. You're sure you've seen this particular piece of clothing?"

"Yeah," Elena said.

"But in your deposition, you said that Senor Espejo doesn't own a robe."

"That's not a robe," Elena said. "Robe is like, down-to-your-ankles long. That would only go to just under his knee. It's more like a smock."

"And this smock . . ." the constable said, then trailed off. Ramonalmost felt sorry for the little s.h.i.+t. What was there left for him to say?

"He's had it since I met him," Elena said. "I kept telling him to throw the f.u.c.king shabby thing out, but did he ever listen to me?

Never. Never once, about anything. Pinche Pinche motherf.u.c.ker." motherf.u.c.ker."

"Ah," the constable said. And then, hopelessly, "You're sure?"

"Do I look look stupid?" Elena asked, frowning. stupid?" Elena asked, frowning.

A sense of unreality washed over him. Someone had gotten to her.

Someone had gotten to Elena between the time she gave her deposition and now, and coached her on how to pull Ramon's sorry b.a.l.l.s out of the fire. He wondered how much it had cost. Knowing Elena, probably a fair amount. He didn't let himself laugh, but the relief was like taking a drink of the best whiskey he'd ever had. Better, maybe.

Standing beside the governor, the straight-haired woman looked over at him, her face empty of any expression.

The problem with aliens, Ramon realized, was that they could never truly understand all the subtle ways that humans could com-municate with humans. A hundred years of talking, and Ramon would never have been able to explain to anyone else how exactly the woman raising her chin a few millimeters meant "you're welcome"

and "thank you" and "we're even" all at the same time. Ramon imagined the European's soul, trapped somewhere in h.e.l.l, keening his anger as Ramon escaped.

On screen, the constable limped through a few more pointless questions and then closed the interrogation. The governor tapped at his datapad once, and the wall-screen image faded. Ramon rubbed his hand against his thigh, trying to hide his elation by feigning impatience and rage.

"So you still want to gag me, pendejo pendejo?" Ramon asked. "I don't mean to be, you know, unreasonable or anything. But now that you f.u.c.kers have locked me up, kicked the s.h.i.+t out of me, and tried to hand me over to that great glob of snot over there, can someone 293 293 unlock these f.u.c.king shackles so I can go talk to a lawyer about how much I can sue you for?"

"His account is consistent," the Enye piped. "He is of no interest."

Never in his life had Ramon been so thoroughly pleased to be of no interest. The governor, his a.s.sistant, and the Enye all left while Ramon was being processed out. The supervisor went through the forms and procedures with a bored efficiency; only his continued presence indicated that he wanted to be sure nothing else about all this went wrong. Within an hour, Ramon stepped onto the street, worse for wear but grinning all the same. He paused to spit on the ground at the base of the station-house stairs, then strode out into the city, making it almost half a block before he realized that he had nowhere to go.

He had been on his way to find Lianna and create some kind of new life for himself. He was maybe two hours' walk from there now, still with the wristband identification they used when he was in cus-tody, bruised and beaten from his time with Johnny Joe, and not feeling up to a long walk anyway. He kept moving until he found a public square-a sad little plot of dirt in the shadow of an administrative complex. He sat on a bench; just for a few minutes, though.

He didn't want the police to ha.s.sle him, and he figured he looked like a b.u.m.

A b.u.m. Without a place of his own. Without a job. He had nothing, only a half-baked plan to rebuild himself and a secret he couldn't tell anyone. High above, the Enye s.h.i.+ps flickered, their forms dimmed by the haze of smoke that squatted over the city. The sun would set soon, and the few stars that could struggle against the city lights would come out. Ramon shoved his hands in his pockets.

Lianna seemed like a dream now. An idea he'd had when he was drunk only to find it nonsense when sobriety returned. He tried to imagine what he would say to her, how he would explain that thebeaten-up, penniless prospector without a van or even a place to sleep was someone who had worth. Never mind that he'd just gotten out of the station-house jail and probably smelled like it. Never mind that he'd just become the new Johnny Joe, first on the list of usual suspects to be rounded up the next time the governor needed someone to take the fall for some inconveniently unsolvable crime. He knew what Lianna would see when she looked at him.

She'd see Ramon Espejo.

It was still twilight when he reached the butcher's shop. It had been closed for hours, metal bars hugging the door and windows.

He took the side stairs up. There were lights on in Elena's apartment.

He stood in the gloom at the top of the stairs for a long time. There were cats in the alley-another species imported from Earth. Lizards skittered up the wall and took wing. The scent of old blood rotting in the alley mixed with the wood smoke and van exhaust; the odor of Diegotown was acrid and familiar. The tension in his shoulders and gut was also familiar. Up in the night sky, Big Girl was peeking out from behind the high clouds. The boom and blare of distant music.

He knocked.

When she opened the door, he could see the question in her eyes.

There were any number of reasons he might have come. To say thank you. To get some of the s.h.i.+t he'd forgotten and leave again. To stay.

Each one had a different greeting to match it, and she wasn't sure which to use. He wasn't either.

"Hey," he said.

"You look like s.h.i.+t," she said. "The cops do that?"

"Get their f.u.c.king hands dirty? No, they had a guy do it for them."

Elena crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She hadn't stood aside- afraid, he guessed, that he wouldn't accept the invitation.

"You give as good as you got?" she asked.

"He's dead," Ramon said. "I didn't kill him, so I'm not in trouble 295 295 or any s.h.i.+t like that. But he was there because of me, and they killed him. I figure that means I won."

"Tough cabron, cabron, " Elena said, half mocking, but only half. "Dangerous to cross." " Elena said, half mocking, but only half. "Dangerous to cross."

An orbital shuttle throbbed up into the night. Ramon smiled; it hurt a little, around his eye. Elena looked down, smiled shyly at his knees, and stepped back. He went inside, closing the door behind him. She'd made rice gumbo. It was the kind of dish she could tell herself she made so she could eat the leftovers through the week.

Or it could be meant to feed two. Ramon sat at the table and let her serve him a bowl.

"You were good," he said. "With the cops, I mean. That thing about how it's a smock?"

"You liked that?" Elena asked. "That was my idea."

"It was good," Ramon said. "Only thing was, with the camera like that, I couldn't see his face."

Elena grinned, made a bowl for herself and sat down. The atmosphere surrounding them seemed as fragile as blown gla.s.s. Ramon cleared his throat, but didn't have any words to follow up with, so he took a mouthful of gumbo. It wasn't very good.

"That rich lady," Elena said. "The one who came and talked to me? She was the one at the El Rey?"

"Yeah," Ramon said. "That was her."

"She seemed okay."

"I don't know. I never talked to her."

Elena's eyes narrowed, her lips thinned. Ramon felt the distrust emanating from her like heat. He shook his head.

"No s.h.i.+t," he said. "She never said a f.u.c.king word to me. I only ever heard her name because one of the cops said it."

"You got in a knife fight with a guy over some woman you never even talked to?" Elena's voice was incredulous but not angry.

"Well. He He didn't know it was a knife fight," Ramon said. didn't know it was a knife fight," Ramon said.

"You're f.u.c.king crazy," she said.

Ramon laughed. Elena laughed with him. The fragile moment pa.s.sed; the fight they'd had was just another fight now. One of a thousand before and a thousand still to come, too insignificant to remember. He reached out and took her hand.

"I'm glad you came back," she said.

"I fit here," he said. "I thought for a while I was someone else, but this is where I am, you know? To be Ramon and not Ramon is aubre aubre."

"What's that mean?"

"d.a.m.ned if I know," Ramon said through a grin. "It's just something a friend of mine used to say."

Chapter 29.

It was a crisp clear day in Octember. The van's lift tubes whined, and one of the rear pair lost power sometimes. If Ramon didn't keep an eye on it, he'd wind up flying in a long, slow circle, the terreno cimarron terreno cimarron below him going on until his fuel cells ran down. It was especially a pain in the a.s.s because the winter night fell early this far north, and he would have liked to put the van on autopilot and get a little sleep. below him going on until his fuel cells ran down. It was especially a pain in the a.s.s because the winter night fell early this far north, and he would have liked to put the van on autopilot and get a little sleep.

Instead, he stayed humped over the bulls.h.i.+t instrument panel running diagnostics and telling himself that his days of fifth-rate rented vans were going to end. Just four or five good trips in a row. And after this trip, four or five good runs should be easy.

The Enye had remained parked above So Paulo for two months, shuttles rising into the sky and dropping back down, sometimes as often as a dozen times a day. As the weeks went by, Ramon had found it harder and harder to stay in the city. Once his latest set of woundshad more or less healed, the impulse to get out of the city and into the wild returned. His patience with the people around him grew shorter and shorter. And to make things worse, he didn't dare get drunk.

The police were making it quite clear that they had their eyes on Ramon. He couldn't go to the store without seeing someone in a uniform lurking nearby. On the few occasions he did go into a bar, a constable always seemed to materialize a few minutes later. Twice, he got pulled in for questioning over some petty crime he'd had nothing to do with. Both times he'd had alibis that even the police couldn't deny. But it was clear enough. They wanted him out, and he wanted to oblige them. He would have, if he had any money.

Instead, he stayed at home and drank a little of Elena's whiskey.

When he got a little buzzed, he'd get on her link and snoop through the records and boards for answers to idle questions. It was how he learned that Martin Casaus had died three years before in a wreck, that Lianna was married and had a kid. It was where he discovered that the European's name had been Dorian Andres, and that the trade agreements he'd been working to broker-agreements that wouldn't be signed in this generation or the next-were being sent back to Europa in hopes that the process wouldn't have to be postponed for another hundred or thousand years, followed up by the children of children whose parents hadn't yet been born. s.p.a.ce was too large for these things to mean as much as the politicians wanted them to.

And it was where he discovered that the Silver Enye were moving on. The eaters-of-the-young had finished trading, and they were heading out to the next colony. Searching for their prey, though no woman or man on the planet knew that besides himself. The afternoon they were scheduled to go, there was another big carnival downtown in their honor, but instead of attending, Ramon got a couple beers, crawled up onto the roof of Elena's apartment by himself, and watched the s.h.i.+ps go. When the last light of their drives 299 299 had faded from the deep blue sky, Ramon flipped them off. f.u.c.king pendejos pendejos!

Elena kicked him out about the time of the first snow, but even that was strange. The way it used to be, he would have done something, she would have got p.i.s.sed, and they'd have ended throwing punches and plates. Instead, one morning Elena looked at him, shook her head, and told him it was time for him to go before he did something stupid. It had been like that ever since she'd saved his a.s.s with the police. They still fought, they still yelled, but when it was something important, it was just a statement. The beans are cold. That The beans are cold. That s.h.i.+rt's not clean. It's time for you to go before you do something stupid. s.h.i.+rt's not clean. It's time for you to go before you do something stupid.

The plan Ramon had been working on was as close to ready as it was ever going to be, and the call of the open sky was getting louder in his heart every day. She was right. He needed to get out for a while.

And then, when the city and the people and the lingering threat of the Enye were out of his system, he would need to come back.

Griego had been a harda.s.s about the whole thing, pressing Ramon about why he didn't have better insurance on his last van. Pointing out that Ramon was asking him to trust equipment to a crazy f.u.c.k who'd gone out last time with a perfectly good machine and come back naked and three-quarters dead with nothing to show for it. The negotiation had gone on over cans of Griego's beer until they were both drunk off their a.s.ses and singing old songs. In the morning, they both remembered they'd made an agreement, but the contract they'd drawn up was half gibberish. It had their signatures on it, though, so Griego had agreed to loan Ramon a van on the understanding that the rental fee would be half of any income that resulted from the run plus depreciation on the van. He was f.u.c.king Ramon over, but Ramon didn't care. He wasn't making s.h.i.+t off this run anyway. This was just the first part of the plan. Getting rich came later.

The moons were both out, Big Girl high in the sky while Little Girl was just starting to peek over the horizon. Their cool blue lightallowed glimpses of the terrain below. The Oceano Tetrico was black as coffee in the darkness, but Ramon knew that the daylight, when it came, would reveal water a deep, lush green. Winter was growing time in the ocean, just the reverse of the land. Something to do with oxygenation levels, but what it meant to him was an endless plain of tiny green waves, the bite of winter air, and the scent of salt and turning tides. He conjured it all now, constructing the world in his mind. His belly had lost that sick feeling since he'd left Diegotown.

His mind felt calmer, slower, less like a dog caged in a kennel. It was moments like this that made the difference. The van chimed, and he turned his attention back to the next of the near-infinite small manual corrections flying the thing required.

In a real van and not this half-dead lump of tin, he would have gone on to the Sierra Hueso in a single jump, but he knew that if he left the panel and tried to bed down, his distrust of the van would keep him awake anyway. Near midnight, he overflew Fiddler's Jump, aimed the van east to the unlogged forests, and circled until he found a little clearing to set down in. The snow was deep enough that it would have been hard work to get the door open, had he intended to go out. But inside the small box, its heating system online and keeping the air warm, it felt like being wrapped in a good wool blanket on a cold night. He curled up on his cot and fell asleep wondering what the difference was between blackmail and extortion.

The plan, once it had finally coalesced, was a simple one. Maneck and its people had been squatting hidden on this planet since long before the colony had begun. They'd chosen the place to hide their hive. They might even have other hives scattered around the planet. He would offer them the trade-share the information they had about the planet's mineral resources, and once he was making enough money to keep it from seeming weird, he'd put stop claims on the land they inhabited, make sure those sites weren't developed, that no other prospectors blundered upon them. In order for that to 301 301 work, he'd have to be making a lot of stop claims. So he'd have to be making a lot of money. In fact, he'd have to be one of the richest men in the colony, so it was pretty important for Maneck and the others to make sure Ramon got a lot of very rich claims.

The trick, of course, was that he had to tell all this to the aliens so that they'd understand what the deal was, and what the consequences to them would be if they just killed him on the spot rather than listen. He'd recorded it all-times, coordinates, descriptions of the aliens and their relations.h.i.+p to the Enye-then encrypted the file and given it to Mikel Ibrahim to keep in whatever drawer held Ramon's old gravity knife. The man had proven himself capable of keeping a secret. Maybe, when Ramon got rich, he'd hire him as an overseer or something. Regardless, the agreement was that Ramon would come get the data when he was done with this run. If spring came without him, Mikel would hand it over to the cops. Ramon knew intellectually that trusting the aliens' fate to Griego's fifth-rate van was a s.h.i.+tty thing to do; if the lift tubes failed or the power cell blew, the aliens would suffer the same fate as if they'd killed him.

But Ramon hadn't seen any other way to go about it. Plus, if it came down that way, he'd be dead himself and wouldn't care.

It was a risk, of course. Maybe a big one. There was no knowing what these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds would think or do. Stranger than a norteamericano, norteamericano, or even the j.a.panese. If he couldn't make them understand about the insurance policy he'd left behind, they'd probably kill him. or even the j.a.panese. If he couldn't make them understand about the insurance policy he'd left behind, they'd probably kill him.