I lifted my shotgun high and brought it down on the junkie’s head like a hammer.
I wanted to make some bold pronouncement, some tough speech, but I think I would be the only person who heard it. The junkie was crying on the carpet, holding his bleeding scalp, and Grever was so checked out of the situation he was practically at another space station.
I picked up the junkie’s pistol and walked over to Grever, who was in his kitchen eating—or pretending to be eating.
“Grever. When can you have the stuff?”
It took him a moment to come back to reality.
“Hmm? Oh, um, how about a couple days?”
“I can give you an extra thousand if you can get it in ten hours,” I said.
He thought about that hard.
“I can try.”
“Alright, I’ll be back then.” I realized I was talking to him holding the shotgun and pistol while a man moaned in the other room. I thought it was actually a good image to leave Grever with.
I put the shotgun away and walked outside still carrying the pistol. I don’t know why I took it, but at least it was some small payback.
I was thinking of where I had to be next when I heard someone a block away yell to me in a friendly voice.
“You starting trouble or finishing it, Hank?” It was Ioshiyn, coming up the sidewalk. He was an enforcer, not sure which boss he currently worked for. Nice guy.
I looked down at the pistol still in my hand.
“Hey Ioshiyn, you want to buy this?”
“Does it work?”
“Just shot me,” I said, showing my shoulder.
He stared at the hole and the scorch marks, impressed.
“Is that a Trestler?”
“I think it’s a copy. But looks like the same design. I figure it’s worth 200. I’ll sell it to you for fifty.”
“Fifty? You sure?” he asked. I handed it to him and he checked it out. I could see I had a sale. I pulled my tele out with a smile. He took some time but finally passed the credits to me.
“Enjoy it,” I said, leaving.
“Thanks. Hey, what do you think of things? Is there really a turf war coming?”
I shrugged and then absently caressed my sore shoulder.
Ioshiyn nodded darkly as if I had somehow spoken volumes.
CHAPTER 7
I had to go to the bathroom so I walked to a nearby restaurant to make use of the facilities. On my way I noticed two smoke trails high above the city. Had something broken in the station’s latticework? It wouldn’t be the first time. I just hoped I got a chance to relieve myself before being sucked into space.
At the restaurant I read the latest edition of The News. Rendrae was stoking the fires with headlines like “What Will You Need for the Coming Business Disputes.”
I went outside and looked up, but the smoke trails were gone.
Back in Deadsouth I attempted to patch together the rest of my drug load. I gave up trying to get the other half all in one go and just grabbed what I could from individuals.
The prices were higher taking it piecemeal and I had to deal with a plethora of trembling, bug-eyed dealers, but at least I was making progress.
I was literally carrying around a knapsack filled with about fifty pounds of narcotics when I got a tele from Garm.
“Hank, I need you to get here now!” she yelled.
“I’m working,” I said. The drug dealer I was currently negotiating with took a peek at my tele screen and about spontaneously combusted when he realized I was speaking to the Adjunct Overwatch in his apartment.
“This is absolutely serious, Hank. Hurry.” She cut off and I was left to ponder. Though generally a calm cookie, she could get overly excited. I figured the gang war had started someplace and I was going to have to get involved.
It was almost a straight shot north on the train to the administration buildings of City Hall. After a quick transfer I was walking into Garm’s unglamorous military headquarters.
City Hall was constructed back in Belvaille’s early days when the space station had a dignified purpose. The building had twisting spires and golden frescoes of valiant space pioneers. It was the only non-rectangular building in the whole city and really stood out.
I got buzzed past the various checkpoints and noticed all the soldiers were standing alert and looked worried. Must be a big fight somewhere. Probably full-scale conflict. I sighed.
Carrying my drugs, I was finally waved into Garm’s office.
“What took you so long?” she asked me angrily as she closed the door.
Garm had tried to make her office unattractive in case any officials visited, but there were still a few designer chairs and luxury items here and there. She just couldn’t help herself.
“What’s going on?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Watch this. It’s from a few hours ago.”