Chapter Six - Queen Takes Pawn
Na: George Orbad
Alias: King, The King of the Kings
Wanted for the minor cris of: Racketeering, Assault, Smuggling of Contraband, Homicide.
Wanted for the major cris of: Corporate Defamation, Pirating of Private Data, Corporate Espionage.
Suspect is presud ard and dangerous.
Reward: 1,750,000Cr
--King of Kings bounty posting, 2057
***
The Underground Kings had their hideout in the sa ring of buildings as we were in. The factory they occupied was an old cotton-candy machine factory, of all things. So of the signs on the outside were still bright and cheerful under the layer of gri that covered everything.
Of course, they’d covered it all with graffiti, mostly crude images of n with crowns on, sotis just crowns, sotis giant dicks with crowns on them. Very imaginative stuff. So of the best bathroom-stall type art I’d ever seen.
Raccoon, our guide, paused on one of the catwalks about a hundred tres away from the factory. “That’s it,” she said. “The King’s King stays there sotis.”
“Sotis?” Gomorrah asked.
“He doesn’t live here,” Raccoon said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “No one that makes a bunch of credits stays underground.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “Other than robbing little girls, do these idiots do anything special?”
Raccoon shrugged. “They make drugs to sell to the people above. It’s called syrup. You can sll it when they make it. It’s nice.”
“Syrup?” I asked. I’d heard of that. It was a sort of goopy liquid, golden and clear, and apparently really sweet. It was actually a bit of a classier street drug, the sort middle-class guys would buy for a party or sothing. “I didn’t think they’d make that shit here.”
“They have to make everything sowhere,” Gomorrah said. “I imagine real estate down here isn’t too pricey.”
I shrugged. Didn’t matter to . I didn’t co down here to rid the world of so party drugs. “Maybe the stink down here is the special ingredient,” I muttered.
Raccoon giggled. “So, that’s it. You guys are going to go ask them for stuff?”
“Just going to ask them about Gomorrah’s girlfriend.”
“Franny isn’t my girlfriend,” Gomorrah said, voice flatter than usual.
“Not with that attitude,” I replied. “Rac, do you know who we should ask to see?”
“If they even let you in,” the girl said. “Ask for one of the Bishops. They’re, like, the important ones, I think.”
I pat the girl atop the head, because that’s what I’d do with a kitten, then pointed to the front of the factory. “Let’s get this over with; they might not know what we want.”
Raccoon followed Gomorrah and I as we approached the factory, but she let off once we were closer to the doors and the two guys standing next to them, who might have been guards, maybe.
They had guns and were wearing so ratty clothes which had crowns stitched into them like so sort of uniform. The full-faced masks they had looked like they’d been pulled from a bargain bin, not that I’d cast stones from my glass orphanage.
“Heya,” I said as I walked over. My cyberwarfare augs were still on, and they highlighted the doors and the electronic locks keeping them closed. I toggled the option to unlock them, because I was curious, and was only mildly surprised when they didn’t fall apart.
“Hey, hey, stop right there!” one of the guards said. He brandished his gun around, so sawed-off shotgun thing held together with happy thoughts and duct tape. His finger was on the trigger already.
I stopped, both hands rising up to shoulder-level. “Stopping,” I said. I was pretty sure the gun couldn’t hurt , but then, I was on a catwalk bridge leading over to the factory entrance, and there was a hundred tre fall next to . One side didn’t even have any railings. It wouldn’t take much for the whole thing to collapse.
I’d probably be fine if it did, but it would be inconvenient and a waste of ti.
“What you here for?” the guard asked.
“I’ve got questions. We heard so of your, uh, ‘Kings’ might have so answers.” I was sure to make it obvious that there were so quotes around their title. “Think you two can help us out?”
The two guards looked at each other, considering things.
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Myalis, being the gem that she was, tapped into their comms with the ease of an experienced porch pirate stealing soone’s insulin package from their doorstep.
Pawn G: Tell Bish?
Pawn J: Y
Pawn G: I call. Keep gun > thm
Their nas were Pawn? I was never too keen on joining any gang, but joining one where your title was literally ‘pawn’ had to be so sort of Darwinian test for any potential recruit. “Just let us go see Bishop,” I said. “Also, are you guys really going with a chess the?”
“Chess is a ga for intellectuals,” Pawn J said.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m wondering why you guys are using it as a the.”
“Cat,” Gomorrah said aloud. “Don’t antagonize the idiots.”
Pawn G puffed up in anger and waved his gun around so more, but neither of us could be bothered to care, so with a frustrated grunt, he turned back and started sending more texts. I glanced at them as Myalis intercepted the lot, but for the most part he was just asking soone with any level of authority what to do.
“Yeah, you can co in,” he said at last.
“Thanks,” I replied.
We were t just inside by a big guy in a ratty suit, a tube tucked under his jacket where it ran down from his breathing mask. He had a little rook pin on his shoulder. We were climbing up the ranks, it seed. “You two, follow ,” he said.
I glanced at Gomorrah, but she didn’t seem to have anything to say about how polite our hosts were being.
We didn’t go very deep into the factory. The entrance was a grimy place, with a locker room filled with hazmat suits and masks to one side, and what looked like an office on the other side. We were led past those and into a lounge where a wide window overlooked the hole leading to the ground below, with the occasional flash of light as a car hovered through the maze of catwalks.
Two people were waiting for us.
Well, two people and a few guards that faded into the background.
One was wearing a black suit, the other a white one. Actual nice suits too, the sort I’d expect to see in an ad for so insurance agency or sothing. The small rebreather masks they wore didn’t quite fit, but safety first and all that.
“Greetings, dear samurai,” the guy in the white said. “It’s not every day that we receive such distinguished guests, so please pardon our lack of preparedness.”
“Uh, yo,” I said. “It’s fine. Are you the people in charge here?”
“No, no,” the black-suited one said. “We are rely the King of the King’s right- and left-hand n. I’m Bishop Black, and that’s Bishop White.”
They were both pastier than anything, but I chose not to insult our new info-broker buddies. “Alright, cool. We’re not actually here for anything related to the Kings. We’re looking for soone.” I sent them the image of Franny again. “And maybe we’re looking for so information about this gang called the Sewer Dragons.”
“I’m certain we can assist,” Bishop Black said. I saw him blinking as he took in the image I sent him. “I think we know about this girl.”
“What do you know?” Gomorrah said.
“Oh, this and that. I’d need to pull things up. It might take a little while. We don’t store things digitally, for obvious reasons,” he said. “It’s ti-consuming and expensive, but worth it.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Got a price?”
“Everything does!” White Bishop joined in. “We will make sure to provide you with a discount, of course, on account of the good work you samurai put in to improve our lives.”
I snorted, and was about to ask him sothing else when Myalis interrupted.
Catherine. I thought you might wish to know this. The girl, Raccoon, is currently being physically assaulted just outside the factory.
It took a second to register that, then I was out of the room and walking back out. Gomorrah kept up with , and so did the two Bishops and so of their guards.
I arrived outside to see Pawn G kicking at a familiar bundle of cloth on the ground.
For just a mont I saw red. Then reason caught up with and I realized I had a perfect solution. I tugged out my Trench Maker and shot the Pawn in the back. Then I shot the other, who was laughing, for good asure.
“What are you doing?” Bishop White yelled.
I slamd my gun back into its holster and stomped over to Raccoon. “Gomorrah, can you keep an eye on them for a minute?” I asked. I had more important things to take care of.
***
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