Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats (22 page)

The theory stirred Rojas from his stupor. He
scoured the scene left behind, the sunbaked hills leading up to the
wildly ablaze industrial site. Again it was the silos that
corralled his attention. They were now just jagged, flaming
chimneys. The blasts had been centred there. Rojas was raising his
camera that way when there came another blinding flash. The
shockwave flung him violently onto his back. Above him, the dead
paraglider was swallowed by flame
as
the
entire sky turned to fire.

21 Approach

A lion’s roar briefly carried over the
rhythmic calls of the cicadas. It was in the distance without being
too far. Kaptu Z wondered if lions were like guard dogs. He
wondered if his presence had been detected.

There was rustling down in the tall grass he
was moving through. Fearing a snake, he put on his night glasses to
scan the area. After a fruitless moment, however, he decided he had
better just accept he was not the only creature this grass was
hiding.

He had spent a sweaty twenty minutes working
on the wiring of the perimetre fence and now he was done. He could
cut his way through it without triggering the sensor alarms. He had
enjoyed doing it, the electrics of Africa being at least one thing
he could claim a familiarity with. As he withdrew the laser-cutters
from his backpack he gave Blast a probing pat. She was lying
patiently on her belly beside him; although relaxed, her ears were
constantly pricked to her surroundings. Kaptu felt an affection for
her, though it worried him how badly he needed her alive. An entire
criminal empire might stand or fall on it. Kaptu put the thought
out of mind and cut open the fence with clean, even strokes. Blast
sprung eagerly to her feet, unburdened by the stakes at play. She
intently watched Kaptu crawl through the fence and came running
with his command. Kaptu marked the time at 4:15 am. Still an hour
before dawn. He led Blast deeper into La Pack’s private zoo.

Even with his night vision goggles on, the
animals in captivity were little more than silhouettes in their
cages. Some were pacing but most were still. As long as they
remained in their cages, Kaptu did not much mind. He held his rifle
at the ready and began to crisscross the zoo grounds. He kept one
eye on Blast all the while: a simple bark and a rising of her tail
would be enough to connect Mas to this locale, to empower Kaptu to
start making arrests. He wondered if it had ever sounded a good
idea. But as he started towards the domed central building, he
noted the communication tower soaring high from the roof, the
intercepted communications with Mas must have been transmitted
through that. And it made sense. A remote outpost with few police
and almost no honest ones. The perfect place for the likes of Mas.
And perhaps not so good for those cops who did happen to be
honest.

Kaptu was nearing the giraffe cage when there
was a vicious sting on his arm. Not wanting to scent his skin with
insect repellent, this was not the first, but the pain was like
nothing else. He reflexively grabbed the spot and realised he had
been struck by a small dart. The toxin was fast acting, his head
instantly becoming heavy and dizzy. He crashed onto his back,
looking up at the giraffes. They slept standing up. With a feeling
of dread, he
now
understood
he had been
doing
that too.

*

‘It was a bad way to die,’ said McRaven.
‘Ripped apart by pieces of hot metal. The reports coming in are
still only preliminary but that seems to be a fair assessment of
what’s happened. He winced with his own words, gazing out at the
New York skyline as an outlet for bitter thoughts. ‘Fifty Peace
Corps soldiers dead this year, there have already been enough
reports.’

‘Yes, it’s a shame,’ said Renaissance, bitter
about having to make this detour back to New York. Still, if Hurt
World operations were getting Peace Corp soldiers killed then
bridges needed to be mended. McRaven’s office was on the thirtieth
floor of the United Nation’s New York Headquarters and as
impressive as the view was, Renaissance found herself suddenly
longing to put her feet on real earth. In planes, in penthouse
suites, or in the important floors of tall buildings, it seemed
this was not a job for ground level. Renaissance sipped her
Artic-water lemon ice tea and muttered, ‘There is much still to be
done before the final report on this is written.’

‘That much is clear, though how we have got
to this point is peculiar enough. You’re saying we cannot break
codes, only the locations of where messages of a particular code
are sent?’

‘That’s right.’

‘That’s not much.’

‘I agree but there are patterns to be found.
It is especially effective when the target operates in isolated and
unusual locations. That means a lot of people on the run from the
law.’

‘Including your friend, Mas?’

‘What transpired in Las Gabos indicates we
are on the right track.’

‘The problem is going in blind can be very
dangerous.’

‘Yes, and it scares me that there were things
criminals were so desperate to conceal they were willing to use
explosives on such a scale.’

McRaven leaned back against the window and
folded his arms. He looked around the scenes on the operations
wall:
marked with red dots on a world map that
tattooed the entire w
all were all troubles the Peace Corps
was embroiled in. Although
every
dot
was the same size, the scale of the
troubles varied significantly. McRaven made a point of
exactly
knowing
to
what
extent
and
he
did
not
like
that
in
this
case
he
still
had
no
idea
. ‘So
you have triangulated possible locations for Mas?
’

‘Yes.’

‘The European Space Union base in Belgium, a
wildlife park in the Congo and a recently obliterated industrial
site in Las
Gabos
?’

‘That’s right. Pardos
and
I
have just paid a
visit to the Belgium base. Unfortunately, the
Space
Commissioner was not being very cooperative.
It seems someone of Mas’s disposition would be a very welcome
addition to their
passenger
list.’

‘Good luck forcing
Geth
Barzius
to
do something against her wishes. She occupies one
of the most powerful positions in Europe.’

Renaissance pulled a face.

‘The Las Gabos angle may reveal one or two
helpful clues if we take the time to sift through the debris,’
continued McRaven, ‘though with the pieces as small as they are and
half of them in the sea, it may be a jigsaw too complicated for one
lifetime.’

‘
That is not a meaningful
measure,’ said Renaissance. ‘Lifetimes are getting shorter and
shorter. Anyway,
the Congo segment is still
active
.
Kaptu
Z
and the signature dog Blast are currently there
investigating.’

‘Have you received any progress reports?’

‘Only from their contact, a Congolese park
ranger named Clorvine. She says they’re on site. But they are yet
to report back.’

‘Let’s hope it goes well. As you say,
lifetimes seem to be getting shorter.’

22 Welcome home dinner

Natalie couldn’t believe the room she had
been given. It was enormous and breathtakingly decorated. The
queen-sized bed was succulent pink with gold posts and an ivory
bed-head. The room furnishings, including a dressing table and
drawers were also silver and gold. Upon the auburn walls there was
a mirror framed in diamond-studded silver and there were colourful
impressionist paintings of both male and female nudes. Everything
about the room spoke of a hotel of the highest class, everything
except the views from the gold framed windows. That was pure hell.
An enormous brightly lit chamber teeming with thousands of the
deadliest snakes in the world: the Cobra X. Natalie had been
assured the glass was impenetrable, but she had barely slept, the
nightmarish images of snakes crawling through cracks a constant
torment.

Natalie checked herself again in the dressing
table mirror. Cosmetics to hide the tiredness. The dresses left for
her in the wardrobe were spectacular. She had chosen a white silk
strapless polymer blue jacket. Even as a dancer, she had never
looked so glamorous. Her accessories consisted of a pearl necklace
and gold string earrings. They looked good and yet she hesitated,
for there was a whole alabaster box of jewels to choose from and
she really was getting lost in the moment, to the point where she
had almost forgotten the grim purpose that had brought her
there.

A knock on the door shattered that feeling in
an instant. This was not a ball she was dressing for, it was dinner
with the Meltman. It was time to go.

Natalie self-consciously ran her fingers
through her hair as she went to the door. She needed to look good
in order to dissuade the Meltman of any suspicions. It repulsed her
to contemplate his sordid desires but his inability to resist them
was her only chance. As she opened the door, she felt a shot of
dread run the course of her body. She had forgotten the extent of
his raw physical power. She was face to face with the Meltman
again.

‘Did I surprise you?’ the Meltman said with a
snicker. His sharp green eyes poured over her and he licked his
colourless lips moistened with lubricant. He was seemingly taking
the evening’s event seriously too, his wavy black hair more
attended to than usual and he was wearing a handsome tuxedo. It
made him look a good ten years younger. Not that she had ever known
how old he actually was. To make a personal enquiry of the Meltman
was without fail a death sentence. Her mother, Shally Nirajo,
probably knew it, but she had always been too busy teaching her not
to ask questions to ever worry about the answers. She could only
assume he was about fifty.

‘A little,’ she said, trying to breathe.
‘This place is what has really shaken me up. I’ve never been
somewhere so beautiful.’

The Meltman was pleased. ‘Not even in
Europe?’

‘No, never. This is a place for royalty.’

‘That is why I made it mine,’ replied Meltman
in all seriousness. ‘It was a new luxury hotel in the Egyptian
district. A sheik with money to spend was behind it. It was to be
the finest hotel in Asylum City. It still is. But now it is me who
chooses the guests. And it is me who chooses the view. I trust you
enjoy seeing so many thousands of deadly pets slithering outside
your room just a stone’s throw away.’

Natalie shivered as she realised her
foolishness in thinking anyone could get the better of this man.
Kaptu Z had clearly manipulated her with brave words and promises.
She wondered if he would even bother coming. He could just as
easily come to his own conclusions regarding the scheme’s futility
and opt to stay home. Still, it was too late for Natalie to do
anything now except let the plan play out, to fulfil her part. That
way at least if there were any torturous reprisals, the Meltman
would have Kaptu to focus on. The thought helped Natalie find her
customary carefree tone of voice.

‘You stole the hotel?’

‘I do not steal, I claim things as mine.’ He
extended out his arms. ‘And I claimed this, like a giant sinkhole;
I opened up from underneath and swallowed it whole.’

Natalie chuckled. ‘That’s impossible.’

‘Clearly it isn’t. But it would be a pity if
dinner had to get cold while I explained myself. Your mother
thought someone should just be sent to collect you. On your first
night back in Asylum City that idea did not sit well with me.’

‘I’m glad,’ said Natalie, sensing her chance.
‘Actually, it is a stroke of luck as I have got you a gift and I
would have been too embarrassed to give it to you in public.’

The Meltman paused, his dead-still eyes
slowly breathing Natalie in. ‘It’s I who am in luck. Do not keep me
in suspense then.’

Natalie smiled teasingly and went back into
her room. The gift-wrapped box was on the table in the living area:
light blue rice paper bound with red tassel. Natalie took it in
both hands to the Meltman.

‘Wow, look at that,’ said the Meltman in a
quiet voice. ‘Should I open it later? I fear dinner will be getting
cold.’

‘Then it will be me dying of suspense.’

The Meltman smiled charmingly. ‘Very well.’
His soft, manicured fingers worked open the wrapping and packaging
to a bottle of Le Tudou male perfume.

‘It would be wrong to tell you how much,’
said Natalie, ‘but it is France’s most expensive male scent.’

‘It is touching, but I do not generally wear
scent. Down in the catacombs of Asylum City anything that does not
smell like a sewer is conspicuous.’

‘Things change. My return is proof of that.’
Natalie gently took the bottle out of his fingers. ‘Let me apply a
little to your wrist. It is not enough to smell the perfume out of
the bottle, for it is how the scent complements the skin that
really counts.’ She unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and rolled it back
to bare his wrist. She could feel him thrill to the touch. She gave
him a double squirt.

‘That was more than a sample,’ he said.

She drew closer and sniffed the scent. ‘Just
the right amount to smell so good.’ She stroked his arm and handed
back the bottle. ‘I think it was the smells of Asylum City that
pushed me away last time.’

‘Then I better learn my lesson.’ The Meltman
worked the fragrance into his skin. ‘Now, shall we have dinner?
Your mother is not the most patient type.’