Under Dark Sky Law (27 page)

Milo opened his mouth, closed it, then opened
it again. “Not necessarily, but it’s not a good sign,” he said, his
eyes darting between Xero, Radar, and Voodoo.

“New deal. Radar stays sober, the rest of us
get high,” she said to Voodoo.

“No deal. I say who gets high,” she said.

“What the fuck, that doesn’t make any sense.
Look, he’s allergic to a similar compound. That has nothing to do
with the safety of the drug by itself,” Xero said.

Radar put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s
fine, I’ll do it. I trust Milo to keep me alive if it comes to
that,” he said. “I’m pretty hard to kill.”

Xero walked forward until she was just a foot
from Voodoo. “Business cards on the table now. We’re not going to
be in any shape to negotiate later. Whatever money you worked out
with Xed is fine, but you know what we really want,” she said.

Voodoo stared hard into her eyes and sneered.
“Yeah. You want the Ketocillin. I trust Xed told you the deal with
that?” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Xero said.

“Shouldn’t come as any surprise, but your
business partner doesn’t seem to be very good at communicating. I
don’t like dealing with him either, but at least he’s a little more
palatable than you slime balls,” Voodoo said.

“We’re not very close. What are you talking
about?” Xero said.

“I don’t have the Ketocillin,” she said.

Milo shot forward and stopped just a few
inches from Voodoo’s face. “What do you mean?!” he said. Xero put a
hand on his chest and physically moved him back.

“Just like I said. That stuff’s nearly
impossible to get your hands on nowadays—I don't have any of the
real stuff, but I do have one of the reagents. You’re chemists, or
at least some of you are. You should be able to cook up something
pretty close to the real deal, right?” she said.

Point of fact, Trina and Argon were their
lead chemists and they were both out of commission. Xero and Milo
both had some skills in the lab, but Xero was more a part of the
neuropharmacology side of stuff, not the actual lab synthesis
parts, and Milo was more about the theoretical physiological
aspects of the design process. They’d all been doing their best to
ignore the fact that Argon was still missing or dead, as there was
nothing they could do about it for the time being.

Xero should have seen it coming, but Neptune
must have gone through the same thought process as Xero just had.
Thinking about Argon pushed her over the edge. All Xero saw was the
bob of Neptune’s spiky hair and a flash of pale flesh as she made a
quick leg sweep that left Voodoo crumpled in a pile of tangled
limbs on the ground. It was too late to stop the initial leg
strike, but Xero leaned over and caught Neptune’s arm as she tried
to sink her body into a ground and pound position. Neptune snarled
in frustration.

She was so focused on keeping Neptune in
check that she missed Milo sneaking around her left side. He
completed the move that Neptune had started, and before Xero could
process how to effectively restrain Neptune, Milo was landing solid
punches in Voodoo’s face. Her skull meat made dull thwacks against
his hard knuckles as her head thumped against the hollow floors.
Xero could feel the blows rumble up through her boots. Radar came
to her aid by pulling Milo up and off Voodoo. At least someone had
someone in the group had some restraint. She was simultaneously
annoyed and also grinning from ear to ear on the inside. Her
associates did exactly what she had wanted to do, and the thought
of just killing her right then and there crossed her mind again.
No. Voodoo still had something they wanted.

With the two attackers temporarily
restrained, Voodoo tried to leap to her feet, but failed due to her
fucked up leg, and she stumbled backwards until she toppled again,
her upper body was partially landing in the adjacent dining
room.

Xero swiveled, snagging Neptune and Milo by
the collars with quick grabs like they were naughty children. Using
her significant strength, extra height, and excellent feel for
leverage, she tossed both of them onto the loveseat that had
previously been occupied by her and Radar. Dropping to one knee she
got very close to both of their faces.

“We’re probably two seconds from literally
going up in flames. Sit down. Shut up. And don’t move,” she said
almost too quietly to hear, but with enough force that they both
tried to pull back out of range. Looking up at Radar she added, her
voice flat and serious. “Don’t let them move. You know what to do
if either of them tries. I don’t care if you have to shock them
unconscious.”

In that moment she could see all of Radar’s
mercenary experience reflected in his face, in his sure, relaxed
body movements. He was the perfect partner for a crisis. He would
take care of business, regardless of the cost. They shared a moment
of complete understanding and she broke it off with a nod.

With Neptune and Milo occupied for the
moment, she stalked into the dining room where a groggy Voodoo was
fishing in her dress for something. Her face was already swelling,
one of her eyes puffing up and turning black like a mushrooming
thunderhead. Lines of blood ran down from her left nostril and the
left corner of her lip.

“You just couldn’t leave it well enough
alone, could you? You had to fuck with us,” Xero said and kept
walking until she was straddling Voodoo’s prostrate body. Leaning
down, she snatched Voodoo’s wrists to keep her from reaching
whatever signaling device was hidden within the folds of her now
dirty white dress.

Voodoo said nothing, but her jaw was set in
stubborn clench, her nostrils flaring with each puff of air forced
through her nose. For the tenth time that day she was glad for her
unusual height—Voodoo wasn’t a small woman, and Xero used her extra
size to haul her another foot across the room and plant her ass in
one of the flimsy dining room chairs. The chair creaked and rocked
under Voodoo’s weight and her head accidentally flopped against the
adjoining table. A lacy white table cloth was draped over the dark,
solid wood of the dining room table and drops of blood pooled on
its slightly waxed surface before sinking into the fabric. That was
one reason why Xero never wore white.

Voodoo was still reeling from the multiple
blows, which gave Xero the chance to take control of the situation.
She was able to hold both of the woman’s small wrists together just
by curling one of her large fists around the delicate mocha-colored
skin. With her other free hand she dug through the white dress
until she found the communicator and tossed it across the room.
After frisking her for more weapons or transmission devices, she
released her wrists and waited for her to shake off the
vertigo.

“Now. Let’s all just calm down now, shall
we,” Xero said and continued when Voodoo remained silent. “Good.
I’m glad we can finally talk like adults. So here’s the deal. You
don’t actually have what we want, but as you may have guessed we’re
desperate enough to take a subpar substitution. As much as you may
think we’re monsters, someone we care about is dying, and we need
that medication very badly. Honestly, money is great, but we’re not
in short supply of it just this minute. The only thing I really
want from you is the Ketocillin reagent and information about where
I can get the other component. I assume you know where the other
reagents are if you were able to obtain at least part of it, is
that true?”

Very slowly, Voodoo gave a single nod, her
eyeballs still swirling in her head. She had to give it to Milo. It
hadn’t looked like he’d hit Voodoo very hard, but he had done the
job for sure. Of course the woman had already sustained some fairly
major blood loss earlier in the day, so she had to give Voodoo some
credit for trying to hold her shit together.

“Excellent. That’s just what I want to hear.
So I’ll make you a deal, which I think you will find to be more
than fair. I won’t kill you right now—your arrogance has made sure
that you don’t have backup coming to look for you automatically
after hearing this kind of struggle, or adequate weapons to defend
yourself. Arrogance I can certainly understand, but you’ve fucked
yourself more than once today. Might do you well to think about
that, yeah?” she said.

She saw Voodoo getting ready to spit in her
face, and she covered her mouth with a piece of her own white
dress.

Xero laughed. “And you call me crass? You
going to behave or do I need to gag you while we finish our little
conversation?” she said.

Voodoo averted her gaze but after a few
seconds of Xero staring at her she shook her head.

“Good. Now. We’ve already established that I
won’t gut you, as much fun as that would be. My associates in the
other room would certainly enjoy it, I’m sure. However, I think we
can still come to an understanding. I’m willing to give you a full
load of our product for free. Or almost for free, that is. I know
my associate Xed asked for a rather large sum of money for the
shipment, and to be honest the price he asked you for is fair, but
I don’t give a shit. All I want right now is that reagent. You give
me that reagent, you can have the whole cargo load, and you can
spend as much time as you want testing the batch for purity and
safety in any way you like, but my crew is not acting as a guinea
pig just to satisfy your sick curiosity, or whatever twisted kick
you’re on. If you find that the batch isn’t up to your standards or
expectations or whatever it is, I’ll compensate you for the price
of the Ketocillin itself or whatever comparable repayment you want.
Or, you can come to Tucson and try to take out your debt in blood.
Frankly, at this point I don’t care. That’s my final offer. You
game?” she said.

Voodoo’s eyes were staring a the floor, her
pupils dilated and unmoving. Without moving her gaze she said.
“Okay. Deal. The other part of the reagent, ” she said, her voice
flat as she paused to swallow some of the blood running from her
nose into her throat. “The other reagent is in San Antonio. Talk to
Alamo—you’ll have to deal with him to get your hands on any of
it.”

Alamo. The name was obviously recognizable
due to the landmark’s namesake, but she thought the moniker was
also vaguely familiar. San Antonio was another dome that they
didn’t travel to often. Like New Orleans, it had once been a flat
and was renovated again during a period of economic improvement.
It’s proximity to certain border towns associated with Calavera had
kept her away because dealing in controversial territories stirred
up unnecessary trouble with the cartels. It was possible that
someone there might also know something about Calavera.

“Great. Lovely doing business with you. Could
I offer you some coffee or something? Not to be an asshole or
anything, but you look like shit,” she said.

CHAPTER 26

Even though it was of little importance, Xero
was sad that they hadn’t been allowed to tour more of New Orleans
while they were there. Judging how great things had gone with
Voodoo, it would be the last time they’d have the opportunity to
tour that dome for quite some time. She was tempted to give Milo
and Neptune a real ass reaming for fucking with the deal, but in
the end they had gotten what they wanted, and they hadn’t had to
risk their lives or Radar’s by getting high in the middle of a
freaking dome. Dealing with Xed would be the next problem, but if
he was really that pissed about missing out on the cash, Xero
didn’t have a problem shelling out the extra dough. Even though
Xero never missed an opportunity to score some cash, it wasn’t
something they were short on, and she wouldn’t mind giving him
anything he wanted just to keep him from causing a fuss.

They had originally planned to say in New
Orleans for at least another day or two, but since things had gone
sour rather quickly, they were forced to hit the road far sooner
than they had intended. Xero was worried about communication,
considering the fact that there were several true dead zones
between them and San Antonio, and they couldn’t exactly just knock
on the dome and hope someone would let them inside. They needed
Xed’s help, and he had probably already learned that they had
screwed him over. If worst came to worse Xero would either sneak in
over the back channels, or she would use what limited government
connections she had forged over years. Her recent partnership with
Calavera and her subsequent disappearance would at least make the
likelihood of being stalked by cartel goons far less likely. That
is unless the cartels thought Xero was responsible for her
disappearance. She had some limited protection as the only known
maker of pure Alphamine, but that wasn’t necessarily enough. One
could never be too careful where the cartels were concerned. They
tended to stab first and ask questions later.

They were traveling in two of their older
supply vans that looked more credible as a touring vehicle. Xero
had wanted to take the abandoned crawler that she had inherited as
a result of the snafu in the desert. According to the Phoenix dome,
due to the current crisis and the fact that it had been
significantly altered from its factory settings due to the
catastrophic accident, they didn’t even want it back. Xero thought
it was yet another example of the dome governments’ conspicuous
consumption and waste, but she wasn’t one to argue with free toys.
Xed had still said that it would be too suspicious, and that she
needed to keep a clear line between her government runs, her black
market dealings, and their semi-legal band tour. Shit was getting
way too complicated, but it was what they had to deal with for the
moment.

The supply vans were definitely questionable
in terms of structural integrity, but they had made the trip out
there, and she had to have faith that they would make the trip back
to Tucson without another major incident. She did feel slightly
more secure knowing that between Radar and Neptune they should be
able to repair just about anything. At least most of the roads were
still intact—after the tidal waves, the government had gone through
a good deal of trouble helping to restore the freeways that had
been washed out. Of course, now all of those were largely abandoned
and in disrepair, but it made it possible to travel in something
that wasn’t an armored crawler. Still, it was a risk—even if mother
nature didn’t decide to attack, they were at risk of rogue skeleton
assaults or ambushes from other miscellaneous marauders.