Koko the Mighty (25 page)

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Authors: Kieran Shea

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Koko the Mighty
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Grum gets up and does as Wire tells him. After the jackknife is cool enough to handle, he cuts enough pieces and it takes him close to ten minutes to tie up everyone’s wrists. Wire bird-dogs his movements the whole time and then double-checks his knots. After taking the jackknife from him, Wire pushes him down on his knees and pockets the blade. She then holsters her Sig and secures Grum’s hands with an extra section of leftover line.

“Okay,” Wire announces, “now that I’ve got you all formally arranged, tell me more about this compound you were talking about.”

Grum steals a glance at Trick, but Trick’s eyes are augering hot holes in the ground. “We don’t know who they be,” Grum says.

“Right. This is the Nor’Am prohibs. Nothing viable is supposed to be out here so I’ll tell you what: I’m counting your lies from here on out. You only get three chances, so don’t test me because three lies in a row and I’ll shoot your balls off and stuff them in Trick’s mouth.”

Grum protests, “But I’m not lyin’! We don’t know who they be.”

“All right, then,” Wire says. “So this compound, how far is it from here?”

Grum waggles his head. “Maybe a fifteen-minute that-a-way back through the woods.”

“Corporate?”

“Corp-o? No, not that we gooned. Not natty-like neither.”

“Guards?”

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean ‘sort of’? Is that another lie?”

“No! I mean, that’s why we tried to get in there in the first place. Trick and me, we gooned them a while ago, right-right? And we’d some of the younger ones ask for food. When them gave the children some, well, Trick thought they be weak.”

“So you mounted a raid.”

“Six of us, right-right.”

“What’s inside?”

“Stuff, people. I don’t know, it be so crazy. There’s, like, structures and animals. Trick here thought it be bestest to go in at night and try to rob them when them sleepin’. It got out of hand.”

“Out of hand how?”

“This wild woman and big blue dog came out of nowhere. We didn’t know they’d no dog, and that wild woman? A hot meany she be.”

Wire’s lips twitch. “Describe her.”

“Kind of small,” Grum replies.

Wire points a finger at Trick. “You mean small like this piece of shit?”

“Kind of, but I didn’t get a good look at her face.”

Trick grumbles, “That’s because you were too busy saving your own butt.”

Wire pulls her Sig from her holster and hauls back to crack Trick’s skull again, and Grum cries out.

“Dark hair!”

Wire whipsaws around. “What?”

“The woman,” Grum says, “she got dark hair. And short. Not as short as yours, but she be meaner than meany, truer-than-true. Took out three of us all by herself.”

“Three?” Wire says. “Counting you two that makes five. You said six before. Are you lying to me again?”

“No! The dog got the other one. Ate him all up.”

“Ate?”

“Yeah, but that woman? She be a full-on wolf herself.”

Wire’s good eye narrows.

Martstellar.

THE DEFENSES BEGIN

Several hours later and little after eight A.M., Sébastien, Dr. Corella, Gammy, and Koko climb a set of stairs to a parapet on the western wall of the Commonage.

The late-night raid has everyone in the compound on pins, and word of the mandatory assembly spreads quickly. Restless and worried, the entire Commonage’s population coalesces in the central courtyard. Up on the wall, Koko stands loose with her hands on hips and combs her eyes through the faces below. All seem present except, for some odd reason Flynn is nowhere to be seen.

Sébastien positions himself slightly behind Koko on her right, and Dr. Corella holds up his hands to quell the murmuring crowd.

“People, may I have your attention, please…”

Everyone quiets down.

“Thank you. We appreciate your taking time out of your daily obligations this morning to attend this emergency assembly regarding the events that transpired a few short hours ago,” Dr. Corella says. “We know you’re concerned, but we’re here to advise you that there is an immediate action plan to address the issue.”

Stepping back, the doctor looks at Koko before he joins Sébastien and Gammy sitting at his side. None of them have slept and Koko’s nerves are ragged, so she runs a hand through her hair a couple of times before she steps forward. Blearily, she tries to recall the best way to address large groups and then remembers something about avoiding direct eye contact. Like most, Koko doesn’t relish the prospect of public speaking as her only experience was when she pulled demonstration control at a port uprising in Maputo nine years before. A hostage standoff and nerve gas canisters had to be deployed, so no… her public speaking that time did not go well at all.

The pearly sun has risen higher over the eastern mountains, so shading her eyes Koko begins.

“Okay, let’s not waste any more time. As most of you already know, my name is Koko. Because of that storm the other night my friend and I ended up here and while this was by no means our intention, right now you and I are in the same boat. What you might not know about me is that up until a short time ago I was a full-time soldier. Now, I know what you’re thinking—her? Yeah, it’s true. I’m not denying it, but since then I’ve left that part of my life behind.”

Koko deliberately steals a glance back at Sébastien and then resumes addressing the crowd.

“From a resistance standpoint what I witnessed last night was pathetic. Those de-civs who attacked? Don’t kid yourselves. It’s likely they’ll try to give the compound a second go, so with Dr. Corella’s and Sébastien’s consent, I’m going to show you how to secure this place. A full briefing with secondary labor assignments will begin in this courtyard in ten minutes.” Koko adds a clarion note to close. “Thank you for your attention.”

Sébastien steps forward and waves a hand at the gathered crowd as a signal that the address is now over. The people disperse into smaller groups, and with her tail wagging Gammy rushes over to Koko’s side. Turning briefly to look out at the woods, Koko speaks quickly.

“I’m going to need help with subdividing Commonagers into construction teams for the cheval-de-frise barriers. It’s better if there’re two groups: manufacturing and placement.”

“Pelham is good with organizing,” Dr. Corella suggests.

“Good.”

“Just how long should this take?” Sébastien then asks.

With her knee Koko bumps Gammy’s hip. “Well, with Flynn getting fixed up I’ve already clocked most of your glaring vulnerabilities. After I give Pelham some instructions, and if things go well, we can work on more robust measures after that. Once the AA transport arrives though, you idiots are on your own.”

Sébastien and Dr. Corella exchange pensive looks.

“What?” Koko asks.

“Nothing,” Sébastien says.

Koko roasts the harshest of gazes at the both of them. “Look, right now I’m only looking out for my own best interests. You two might think you know all about me and Flynn, but I warned you earlier, Sébastien. Here on in, if you or the doc here even think about messing with me or that incoming transport, top down I’m clearing house.”

Dr. Corella steps forward. “Koko, I’m afraid, well—I think Sébastien and I are both a bit frazzled. The events of the past few days, it’s all been so taxing. But no… this is the right thing to do. We should get on these protections right away for all involved. We will oblige and accommodate your needs here on in.”

All three of them move for the stairs and Gammy gambols ahead. Dr. Corella pauses before descending.

“Sébastien?”

“Yes? What is it?”

“I’d like to give you an in-depth prognosis report on the wounded, if I might.”

“Now?”

Dr. Corella gestures with his head—yes. “I think we should. Oh, look. There’s Pelham.” He calls out, “Pelham? Could you come over here for a moment, please?”

The tall woman crosses over to the bottom of the stairs. Koko meets her and the two of them look up at Sébastien and Dr. Corella. Pelham shields her eyes.

“Yes?”

“Koko would like some assistance with organizing the labor groups, do you mind giving her a hand?”

Pelham looks at Koko. “Absolutely.”

Across the courtyard, Gammy roots in some bushes and then barks. When Koko turns and looks back up the stairs, Dr. Corella waves at her.

“We’ll be with you in a minute,” he says.

* * *

Whispers.

“Sébastien, it’s Flynn… the TAM cognitive reactions—they’re extraordinary. His are some of the most remarkable I’ve ever seen.”

Guardedly, Sébastien quickly steals a look at Koko and Pelham conferring at the bottom of the stairs. “But the incoming transport—”

“Remember your suggestion? Back in the alcove after their arrival?”

Sébastien’s eyes widen. “You mean with Koko? But I thought—”

“No,” Dr. Corella adds. “I was wrong. We’d be
fools
.”

“When?”

“I was thinking tomorrow at breakfast. We should let her finish the fortifications.”

Sébastien guides the doctor down the stairs.

BEANS AND SCHEMES

On her haunches in the camp just after sunrise, Wire shovels in spoon after spoon of beans from a tin cup. The beans are protein, but the taste is ghastly. Like half-hardened potato bugs simmered in swamp ass. Admittedly, Wire’s had worse.

“I’ll be straight with you,” she says between bites. “I’ve no interest in who you are or where the hell you think you’re going, because frankly? Your kind is nothing but a waste of oxygen to me. I mean, Sin Frontera? Good luck with that shit, suckers. Last I heard that place was nothing but a make-believe Neverland to winnow out the dumb. Seeing that you took on a walled compound without weapons, I guess I should expect as much.”

Trick mumbles. “Hungry…”

“What?”

“I said, we be hungry.”

“If you’re reduced to eating this slop, I should say so.” Wire drops the spoon into the tin cup and lobs the cup over her shoulder.

“So if you ain’t got no interest in us, you goin’ to let us go?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Why not?”

“Two words, Trick.
De
and
civ
.”

“Ain’t that hyphenated?”

Wire pats the Sig on her hip. “And just as easily ventilated.”

“Maybe you-me-you could help each other out.”

Wire gets up and crosses to where Trick kneels. The fuzzy wash of light feeding in from her damaged ocular is still giving Wire a humdinger of a headache.

“Oh, yeah? Help me out how?”

“Well,” Trick says, “that wild woman be the one you’re after, right-right? You got your needs, and we got ours. Workin’ together might be bestest.”

Wire laughs and presses a boot into Trick’s shoulder. Pushing him over in the dirt, she grinds the tip of her toe on his gashed temple like she’s squashing an insect.

“Work together, huh? How?”

Trick moves his head away from her milling boot. “All I be sayin’ is we got numbers. Plenty of us have seen our fair share of scrapes, and numbers can always give you an edge.”

Wire scorns, “Numbers—don’t make me puke. Alone I’ve waded in more blood and fought in more places than you can possibly imagine. If anything, you mangy degenerates are nothing but a bunch of liabilities to me.”

“That may be,” Trick counters, “but we still be hungry and willin’ to fight.”

Wire looks at the others in the camp. “Is that true? You all are that desperate you want to jeopardize your lives?”

At first not a soul presumes to look up from their sagging positions, but after half a minute the nods hesitantly begin. Soon one de-civ mirrors another and the answer looks unanimous, even with the children.

Wire sighs. Rank disgusting facial sores, and grotty to the letter, maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe she could use them. Set up a diversion. Rouse up some distractive havoc. Hmm, she needs to check out the compound first. She orders Grum and Trick and one of the children, a boy, to get up. When the boy starts to blubber and cry for his mother, Wire jerks him aside and tells him to quit his fussing or she’ll castrate him with Trick’s knife.

“Look at me, kid,” she says. “I might need an extra set of hands so you’re going to do what I say when I say it, understand?”

After the boy nods feebly, Wire cuts off the line binding his hands.

Now on their feet, Trick and Grum turn around and offer out their hands for Wire to cut their bindings as well, but Wire ignores them. She folds and slips the jackknife into her breast pocket and then pulls her Sig.

“I’m taking you two and this boy to scope out the compound. If what I see jibes with your story maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider Trick’s proposal.”

Trick pumps his legs. “Now you’re talkin’. Hey, you got a name?”

“Wire.”

“Wire?”

“Yeah, Wire. Now seeing that the rest of you mongrels are unreliable shit-stains, I fully expect one of you to try and save your own diseased skin once we head off. That’s fine, and I guess it’s your right. But if you do decide to run off, know this: I’ve no qualms about making this little boy’s last moments alive ones of unbelievable misery and pain.”

Using her Sig, Wire gives Trick and Grum hard shoves from behind.

“Let’s move out.”

* * *

It takes them a half hour to cut through the woods with Grum and the boy leading the way up front. Hanging in the rear, Wire prods Trick forward as he whispers.

“The bestest spot to keep low be just ahead, ’bout a hundred paces where the trees peter out. That be where we gooned the compound before.”

Even with her hampered vision, through the trees and in the distance Wire can make out the hulking white outline of the structure. Circular, the compound sits on a small rise beyond a large bramble-infested field and, as they draw closer, Wire blows a short whistle and gestures to Grum and the boy to hold up and stay low.

Kicking out both of his knees, Wire forces Trick down on the ground and studies the compound.

Trick looks up.

“What you goon?”

Wire thwacks the butt of her Sig on the top of his head.

“Shut up.”

Without her ocular working, she takes things in slowly. Wire spots the tunnel entrance the de-civs used for their infiltration hours earlier, and the broken tunnel gate looks like it has been addressed with a quick wrap of thick rope. Raising her sights, she then scans the upper edges of the walls. The structure appears to have no recessed weaponry, electrified concertina wire, or obvious defensive measures of any kind. Outward appearances can be misleading, but damn if Trick and Grum weren’t telling her the truth. Even if she doesn’t end up infiltrating the compound through the weakly fortified gate, the walls are a farce. She takes a guess at a vertical reading: four meters. Using a swift sprint, Wire could clear the wall easily with a parkour
saut de pr
é
cision
and follow-up
passement
.

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