War in Heaven (50 page)

‘The catapult is just above us. This was the scene of some of the worst fighting in the last ten years,’ Tailgunner said once the drones had passed.

The enormous mass-driver catapult was used to throw heat-shielded ore cargoes into orbit for collection by tugs before being loaded into freighters for export.

I felt a stab of anger as I walked past a holographic projection of Cronin. I could see his enormous bodyguard Martin Kring just behind him. Kring looked more metal and plastic than man. The headline on the news piece was F
REE
E
ARTH
G
OVERNMENT WARNS OF POSSIBLE FIFTH COLUMN TERRORIST CELLS
. I wondered if they meant us specifically. I wondered how many more operators had made it to the ground and were still free.

A patrol went by in a six-wheeled light combat vehicle. They were more alert than the guards in the cable car station as they scanned the crowd. I felt their eyes on us but they showed no sign of suspicion or recognition as we moved away from the main thoroughfare and deeper into the warren of alleyways.

‘This is the Rookery,’ Tailgunner said. ‘I grew up here.’

I was worried that despite his disguise he’d be recognised, but he kept his head down and avoided eye contact. Cat, Merle, Morag and I got stared at a lot. We were obvious outsiders. The deeper we went into the Rookery, however, the less surveillance lenses and remotes we saw.

When I had to run the gauntlet of a line of begging vets who’d had their implants removed, I almost felt at home. Everything was so cramped. Sometimes it felt like I was walking through people’s homes. We got more hard stares from men and women carrying weapons and wearing gang colours. They were mostly older vets. Younger gang members would be serving in the military. I guessed something about the way we carried ourselves made them leave us alone.

‘Do you know anything about this Puppet Show?’ I asked Merle.

We’d reached the external wall of the stalactite and were working our way up on narrow paths cut out of the stone.

‘I’ve had a few dealings with them. They’re different. Seem to be reasonably trustworthy in a scary, don’t-fuck-with-us kind of way,’ he said.

I was trying to hide that I was gasping for breath. Merle could have been out for a stroll despite having spent the last six months in a hole.

Tailgunner disappeared into a gap in the rock just above us. Morag followed and then I reached it. I had to crawl through into a small cave. The cave mouth looked out over the cavern, giving us a view of the cable car run we’d come in on. We were above the lighting rigs now and I could see clusters of smaller stalactites, many of them with windows and entrances. Below us on the lighting rigs I could see tents and houses made of packing crates and other scavenged materials. Connecting them all was a web of strong-looking metal cable.

Tailgunner was kneeling down and pulling a modified climbing harness out of the bag he’d been carrying. Attached to the harness were two pieces of rope ending in a metal sleeve that contained runners. We got out the harnesses we were carrying and Tailgunner showed us how to clip the sleeve onto the web of cable. The runners gripped above and below the cable, as did the brake pads when you wanted to slow down.

‘When you get to a junction, you clip on the cable head you have free and unclip the one you were using. Clear?’ Tailgunner asked.

Oh yeah. Sounded simple, if you weren’t three and a half fucking miles up. Still, maybe I’d be lucky and land on one of the lighting rigs. That way I could die by electrocution.

It looked like Tailgunner had fallen out of the cave but he’d just kicked backwards and slid down the cable. Morag followed. She was grinning. It looked like she was going too fast to me. It felt too fast when I kicked off after her. I was using the brake a lot until I burned myself on the sleeve and noticed smoke rising from it. My legs felt too light as they dangled over the drop. My body felt too heavy. The high gravity made me think the ground wanted me back in a bad way.

I was too busy with my fear to notice the junction and I hit it hard. My heart jumped around in my chest cavity as I swung up past ninety degrees and got to look at the ground from an interesting new angle. I almost tangled myself up in the cables. I managed to control my swinging. It didn’t look very dignified.

‘Move!’ It was Cat coming up fast behind me. I managed to clip the second sleeve over the next line and unclip the first head and move off just before she collided with me. The second stretch of cable was uphill. I had engaged the motor in the sleeve and the rollers were pulling me up the cable, but it was slow. This gave me time to contemplate dangling on a jury-rigged web of cable from a home-made climbing machine miles above rocky death on a high-G planet.

If anything this area looked more badly damaged, as if it had been more fiercely fought over, and the people who lived out here in the smaller stalactite dwellings and on the lighting rigs looked harder, more dangerous. There were more gang colours on view, more weapons. Tailgunner told me later that they were collectively known as the Sky Gangs or the Light Tribes. Most of Them could climb across any surfaces and when They’d come swarming across the cavern ceiling, the gangs here had put up a hell of a fight but had been forced back into the main stalactite time and time again.

We slid into an opening on one of the stalactites. The outside was painted. I think it was supposed to look like a theatre, like the kind you see in old vizzes, only it was inverted. We were met in the rock opening by gun barrels. One day I’d find a place where people didn’t want to point guns at me.

The opening was the entrance to a dome-like cave with various worn, low sofa-like pieces of furniture in it and a stall selling sweets, snacks, alcohol and recreational pharmaceuticals. It was decorated with murals that replicated posters from an earlier age promoting some kind of live entertainment. I think they were from a time before vizzes. If you wanted to go and see actors you used to have to go to a big building where the actors actually were and watch them with hundreds of other people, as ridiculous as that sounds.

The men and women pointing guns at us looked serious, capable and like they’d seen action. Initially I thought they were Maori with only one or two white guys. Tailgunner told me later that a lot of them were descendants of colonists originally from other islands in the South Pacific back on Earth.

I was less sure of the look, though. They seemed to be wearing their best clothes, like you see glamorous types wearing on the tabloid viz stations, if those best clothes had been made from a patchwork of rags. Presumably the rags were the only material they had to make their finery out of. All of them had long thick dreadlocks. I was sure I saw the silver of metal, as if some of the dreadlocks were made of steel camouflaged by the rest of the hair. Occasionally something would move under it.

I didn’t put my hands up but I did keep them away from where my pistols were concealed beneath the borrowed combat jacket. Many vets wore their combat jackets after they left the service. They were warm, rugged and some, like this one, were armoured. The others were doing likewise. Again it was useful not to have Mudge with us. On the other hand he could have spent some money at the drug concession. I’d have to get him something.

‘Don’t point those guns at me. I want to see Puppet Show,’ Tailgunner said, a little brusquely I thought for someone on the edge of a three-and-a-half-mile drop with guns pointed at him. One of the raggedy types seemed to agree with me. He took a step forward and pushed a shotgun barrel into the skin on Tailgunner’s face.

‘I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, but you’re leaving now,’ the guy said. His voice was low, even and full of honest menace.

‘I know you,’ Tailgunner said. That was all he said. I turned to look at him. I had been hoping for a bit more.

‘Everyone fucking knows me, so what?’

‘It’s Tailgunner, you wanker.’

Again I felt that Tailgunner was pushing them a little harder than they needed pushing in our current position. I saw Morag turn to look at him. I was aware of Cat and Merle shifting slightly. I saw glances exchanged among the raggedy types. They definitely knew the name and it was a significant one.

‘You don’t look anything like him,’ the guy with the shotgun said. He was standing too close. He’d gone for the intimidation of physical contact with the gun and not the safety of distance. Tailgunner demonstrated this to him by ripping the shotgun out of his grip.

‘I’m fucking wanted.’ Tailgunner was all street snarl now. Show no weakness. ‘I’d be pretty fucking stupid to wander around without a disguise, yeah?’

Then he handed the shotgun back as if he couldn’t give a fuck. This was a different Tailgunner. This was his public face. He unclipped himself from the cable and started securing the rig about himself.

‘If you’re—’ the guy with the shotgun started.

Tailgunner fixed him with a glare. ‘It’s a call the Puppet Show makes, not you,’ he told him and then went back to what he’d been doing.

The raggedy types exchanged looks, mouthed questions and shrugged. It was clear they weren’t used to being dealt with like this. It was also clear that the big hacker’s name meant something here.

‘We’ll need your guns,’ another raggedy type said. Tailgunner finished packing away his cable gear and looked at her.

‘Go on then,’ he said.

I tensed. I hated giving up my guns, especially in the colonies, but there was no rush to disarm us. I noticed that one of them had left the group and disappeared through some thick red curtains into another part of the stalactite. Moments later he came back with one of the largest men I’d ever seen. He had the same dark but sallow complexion that many of the people of Lalande 2 had. He had the dreadlocks and a facial tattoo but it was much simpler than Tailgunner’s or the others’ in the
whanau
. He was pretty much the first fat person I’d seen since we’d got here, but judging by the patchwork of scars that covered his face he’d worked hard to get this fat. It was a muscular and solid kind of fat. His ragged finery strained to contain his build. I wondered how he could move his bulk in the high G.

‘Soloso,’ Tailgunner said, nodding a greeting. This time I heard caution and respect in Tailgunner’s voice.

‘He says he’s Tailgunner but he doesn’t look like him,’ the guy with the shotgun said.

‘Well, well, well hard Max Ruru,’ the big guy rumbled. At first I’d thought it was a heavy ground tank starting up.

‘We’ve come to see the Puppet Show,’ Tailgunner said.

Soloso was looking us over. I don’t think he liked what he was seeing.

‘Come to complicate our lives, more like it. Hear you’ve sold out, gone over to the other side. That true?’

Tailgunner met the other man’s look. ‘I think you’re the only person who’d get away with asking that question. Once.’

Soloso gave Tailgunner’s answer some thought. Then he smiled.

‘You get asked for your guns?’ he surprised me by finally asking. Tailgunner just nodded. Soloso turned to his own people. He looked angry. ‘Do you think we’re frightened of these people?’ The raggedy types shifted uncomfortably under the glare of his black plastic lenses. Then he turned back to us. He took his time shifting his bulk. ‘The Puppet Show will start soon. Please don’t make me waste my time by talking about the consequences of fucking around.’ Then he nodded his massive head towards the red curtains.

The rest of us unclipped ourselves from the cables and headed towards them. As Tailgunner passed Soloso, the big man stopped him with a massive hand on the hacker’s chest.

‘You went toe to toe with every hard man in the Rookery; I even heard that you got in a couple of fights with some SAS guys, but I always got the feeling you were avoiding me,’ he rumbled.

Tailgunner looked up at the bigger man.

‘I was never sure I could take you. Now get your fucking hands off me.’

At first I thought it was a tectonic event, then I realised the rumbling was Soloso laughing, but he took his hands off Tailgunner and we headed through the curtains.

The other side was different. A large room hewn out of the rock, it sloped down with irregularly spaced lines of chairs, all of which faced a stage. Suspended platforms hung from the ceiling supporting a complicated lighting rig and automated weaponry that was tracking us. Thick, red and extensively patched curtains blocked our view of most of the stage.

I felt rather than saw Soloso come through the curtains behind us.

‘I don’t like this,’ Morag whispered, leaning in close to me. ‘This place is run by a network. Unless it was completely isolated then Demiurge has got to be in here.’

She left unsaid that an isolated system before the coming of Demiurge would have been of little business use. The thing is, we were committed. We had to rely on Tailgunner’s judgement. Even now gunships and flight-capable exo-armour could be on the way to get us. The Puppet Show could collect what I guessed would be a not-insubstantial bounty.

Then the curtains opened and the spots came on. There were five of them. They were on Morag, Cat, Merle, Tailgunner and me. Would have been quite effective if we hadn’t had flash compensation. We could see fine. The stage was backlit in green. Crackly, poor-sound-quality music, which I think was supposed to be sinister and atmospheric, started playing, and the puppets dropped from the rafters over the stage like three hanged women.