Sudden panic rippled through me. This was no fucking coincidence, I thought-the man had been hired, sent after me. I shut my eyes. I didn’t know if it was Moje or the Electric Church or who, but someone had gone out and spent top dollar for the best there was to cut me down. At least I knew when they spoke of me back in Pickering’s, I’d be the guy cut down by the legend. I’d be legend. Whoever had found him and hired him, I’d at least have that.

And I thought longingly of the Monks and their nuclear batteries. I thought of Brother West, going mad, but alive, always alive, forever. I was suddenly and inexplicably sure that I was about to die.

I eyed his gun, trying to figure a way past it, an angle. I didn’t see one. Heart pounding, I nodded. “Okay.” I wasn’t going to beg him. I wasn’t going to embarrass myself. I wanted Canny Orel to go away thinking I was the hardest ass he’d ever encountered.

“Good show, Mr. Cates.” He racked a shell into the chamber. “Now tell me: Where in fuck is that little slimy bastard Ty Kieth?”

XXI

THE MOST LIKELY OUTCOME OF THIS LITTLE ADVENTURE

“I’ve heard of you, you know.”

We walked through London, Gatz in the lead with his sunglasses on despite the rain. South to the crumbling bridge with cracks wide enough to require a few heart-rattling jumps, past the sprawling monument to broken glass and twisted steel railings of what had been Waterloo Station-whatever the fuck that was-and finally into the maze of twisty little streets, all the same. I’d thought I’d cleaned up pretty well, but both Gatz and I were unkempt, unshaven, and unsavory-looking compared to our new friends. Marilyn Harper walked with us, Pushed to follow Gatz and keep her mouth shut. Then me, starting to feel a little under the weather, still unarmed, and with some asshole named Jerry Materiel holding twenty of my yen, gone.

And then, shining like a new penny, Canny Orel, the most famous Gunner in history. Or at least of the last twenty years, which was pretty much the same thing.

He looked famous. He looked rich, fat, and sleek, although he still moved with astonishing speed. His skin was dry and papery, with a pink cast. His hair was white, but expensively cut. His hands were so quick he didn’t bother to hold the gun on me as we walked, and I still didn’t dare fuck with him. There was a lush, sick scent of success hanging around Canny Orel.

“You have?” I said.

“Indeed, mate. Heard a few tidbits. Always sounded to me like you were more lucky than talented. Looks like you stepped in it this time, eh?”

His voice was deep and melodious. It sounded like he was subtly singing everything.

“So, just out of professional courtesy, why are you after my Techie?” I asked.

“Out of professional courtesy, mind your own fucking business,” he said flatly, as if he said it five times a day.

As usual, the city felt deserted. Gatz was smart enough to meander a little, buy some time. I didn’t know what I was going to do, since I was convinced I couldn’t deal with Orel-not without a gun, certainly, and even if I’d been packing something more than my sharp wit I wasn’t sure I’d be able to tackle him.

“Your fucking Techie, Mr. Cates, robbed me blind. I’ve been seeking him out for months,” Orel finally growled. “That little piglet can disappear. Say, I could give you a taste of the recovered yen, maybe, for leading me to him. A finder’s fee, we could call it.”

Honor among thieves, I thought. Orel felt bad about making me give up my own man for execution, and he was trying to smooth my feathers. It made me think maybe I had some small currency with the old man.

“He gave me the impression he was hiding from the SSF.” I kept walking.

Orel snorted derisively. “We’re all hiding from the System Pigs, Cates. Mr. Kieth is hiding from me especially.”

I cleared my throat and tried to keep my voice steady, deciding to take a calculated risk. “I don’t think he’s got any money, Orel.”

There were a few steps in silence, rain pattering softly against my face. Then: “Well, he’s your man, Cates. Perhaps you have some money-”

A thrill went through me as a plan began to coalesce.

“-or maybe I’ll just gut the thieving bastard and sleep better at night. Who’s the twist?”

I looked at Marilyn Harper’s back, my thrill of hope fading a bit. “Vid reporter. Recognized me from someplace.”

“Fucking dilettante,” he spat. “They own fucking everything, but they’re bored. Don’t hire someone who needs a fucking job, just play at it until you move on to something else.” I felt him staring at my back for a few steps. “Awful quiet and cooperative, thanks to your friend there,” he said quietly. “But she’ll have to go.”

I frowned. “We can handle her.” I had no affection for rich girls playing reporter while my friends swam through shit every day trying to feed themselves either, but there was something savage about just shooting someone who got in your way. Something primitive.

“Really? How?”

I kept my eyes on the back of Gatz’s head. “We made her see things our way. Didn’t we, Marilyn?”

After a moment, she nodded stiffly. “Yes.”

“She’s going to film my exploits,” I said brightly. “I’m going to be famous.”

Orel grunted behind me. “It doesn’t look like your man can keep her under his thumb for long, the way he’s sweating. Let’s cut the crap and get to your base, so I can resume negotiations with dear old Ty as soon as possible.”

Gatz started to glance back, and my heart skipped a beat, but Orel gave me a shove.

“Eyes forward, Mr. Gatz. I’d hate to have to kill you, but I wouldn’t lose sleep over it either.”

Orel knew more about us than I liked. At the factory, I tried my last play to save Ty as much grief as possible. The place looked sewed up and deserted as we approached. Feeling the familiar buzz of adrenaline and terror, my back to the man I was pretty sure would be my executioner, I pounded on the front door and shouted. “Kieth! Hey, Kieth, let me in!”

Orel was in motion before I could knock a second time, slamming my head into the door hard enough to knock me on my ass for a few seconds and slipping silently into the building. I spent a few moments profitably staring up into the light rain, until Gatz’s sallow face filled my vision.

“Well, you sure handled that like a superhero, Avery,” Gatz said in a strained monotone, most of his attention bent on keeping Harper under control. A light film of sweat covered his waxy skin.

“Fuck you,” I moaned, sitting up and rubbing my head. “It’s Canny Orel. The man was murdering people when I was nursing. He was an assassin for Saoirse, just before Unification. Trained by the Irish government before it Unified. So cut me a break.”

“If that’s Canny Orel,” Gatz said, helping me to my feet, “I’ll eat your shoes.” The front door of the factory suddenly popped open, and Kieth was pushed roughly out. Orel grinned right behind him.

“Come on in, Cates. I am not without honor. Let’s discuss terms.”

I glared at Kieth, who stared at me with wide, terrified eyes. “Fleeing the SSF, my fucking ass. I should let him kill you for not warning me about this.”

Kieth didn’t say anything. Behind him, Orel held a shining, silver-plated gun in each hand. “Don’t worry, Mr. Cates,” he said. “Kill him I shall. But as I said, we can discuss compensation. Step inside, please.”

I felt feverish. Gatz and I sat with Marilyn Harper on the floor. Milton and Tanner-who had allowed Canny Orel to walk in unopposed-sat near Kieth’s equipment, which hummed and beeped randomly, unsupervised. The Droids, after swarming around in a tizzy of excitement giving Kieth endless reports of intruders in the building, had finally been silenced by the Techie. Orel studied the Monk with obvious perplexity, holding Kieth by the scruff of his neck.