The Renegades (The Superiors) (35 page)

So
Superiors had evolved, like infinitely more dynamic humans, with sharper
reflexes, senses, coordination, strength, intelligence and cunning. That was
the natural order of things, to improve upon a species until a new, more
efficient one emerged from the old model. Superiors used all the energy in
their food, stored extra for shortages in the muscles instead of wasting the
energy and growing fat as humans did. Superiors didn’t produce waste—they used
or stored all the energy they ingested, unless they ingested a foreign
substance. Anything beyond a human’s life-giving sap. That was the downfall. If
they evolved from humans, they should have evolved in a way that didn’t leave
them so dependent upon humans—and so easily distracted by them.

Chapter 47

A
light snow drifted down as Byron walked to his car the night he made up his
mind to kill Draven. If asked, he would not have admitted his intentions, might
not have admitted them outright to himself, but he knew. In the deep, seething
recesses of his mind, vengeance festered. If someone asked, however, he would
have denied it. He would have given a different reason for his quest. He would
have said something about principles, about duty, responsibility, and honor, or
perhaps about friendship and betrayal and consequences. He would have
rationalized.

The
pure and simple reason, however, was revenge. His friend, the person he’d
nurtured and mentored, had transformed into a lying, thieving, murderous “sex
pervert,” as Meyer Kidd called it. A fair description. Anyone who enjoyed torturing
animals, especially in that most sickening way, qualified as a pervert of the
worst nature. If Byron could find a punishment more severe than death, he’d
deliver it to those capable of such filth.

Not
only had Draven lied and hidden his sickness, he’d stolen Byron’s own sapien to
perpetrate those outrages against. It wasn’t enough to deceive Byron and laugh
behind his back—he had to rub it in his face, defile Byron’s very property. He
had forever tainted Byron’s favorite sap. Once Byron recovered his property, he
would never again be able to drink from her without thinking of that foul, warm
hole. About Draven violating it.

Byron
shuddered and tried to turn his mind away from his consuming, relentless fury. Instead,
he focused on his plan of action. He had packed everything he needed for the
trip. As of yet, he didn’t know what hole Draven had scuttled off into. Well,
that wasn’t entirely true. He knew one hole. But he wouldn’t think of that, not
now. Now he had a plan. After all, he could track down a criminal easily
enough. He’d done it hundreds of times.

He
had rerouted some of his frustration with Meyer to this problem, this more immediate
concern. If he didn’t catch Draven soon, Draven would kill the sap—if he hadn’t
already. Byron had gotten tired of waiting around for the right forms to go
through the right channels, while every day his enemy defiled his livestock. If
the trackers couldn’t do their job, he’d do it for them. Catching a criminal
for such a trivial crime was beneath him, but he didn’t mind this time. This
was personal.

He’d
called Lapin and Lathan a dozen times, a hundred. Neither answered. He could
hardly expect more from a couple of lousy Thirds. Of course they’d screwed up
their simple assignment, to find and retrieved Draven and the sap. Somehow
Lathan’s pod had simply vanished from existence, which set Byron’s mind
churning. Lapin’s pod still moved through the mountains, though he never
answered. The government refused Byron’s request to send new trackers, since
Lapin’s pod remained viable, though the two had remained incommunicado for
months.
Months.

For
months, Draven had been bloodbagging Byron’s sap, performing all manner of grotesque
violations, things unimaginable to Byron’s conventional mind. Finally, the
night before, Byron had reached the limit of his patience.

Somehow,
Draven had outsmarted the trackers—but they were only Thirds like him. For all
Byron knew, they’d joined him, forming a gang of bloodbaggers, all of them
taking turns indulging in their perversions. Maybe Draven had drawn them in,
gained their confidences, as he had Byron, and convinced them to join him.

Byron
let himself into the Enforcement Office by the back entrance. He said hello to
a few stragglers who hadn’t left for the night. Then he went into his office
and switched on his computer, placing his other hand on the scan pad while it
started up. After confirming his identity, the computer buzzed to life. Byron
unfolded its wings and seated himself in his swivel chair, sliding the screen’s
transparent blue panels around him until they encircled him like a softly
glowing tube. Electronic illumination pulsed over him, calming him. He had
access, full government access, at his fingertips. He moved his fingers across
the screens, opening files and records on each panel, surrounding himself with
information that only the elite few, Enforcers, could access.

Though
what he planned wasn’t exactly legal, neither was it a severe offense.

Byron
had never broken the Law before, though. He was the Law. In breaking the Law,
he broke everything he believed in so firmly, everything he’d worked so hard to
preserve and protect and instill in his people. Even as he did it, as he
accessed those files and turned on codes that Thirds never dreamed existed, he
knew he had crossed a line.

If
discovered, he’d only incur a few fines for violating the supposed privacy of a
Third. But Byron knew this act carried a far heavier weight than the punishment
the government said the crime warranted. Never before had he dared even
contemplate such a gross abuse of his privileges as Enforcer. It was a sacred
duty, one he took on reverently, pushing aside personal views to serve the
government as it indicated, loyal to the last, trusting that each law had a
purpose. His purpose was to enforce those laws.

But
he feared he had finally come undone. Something in that kid, that damned kid,
had broken through all his reserves. That smug arrogance, that wide-eyed
innocent act, that silent glee at the misfortune of others. On his way to kill
Draven, he’d like to stop off and stick a few wooden knives in Meyer’s chest.
He’d do it with a smile on his face, too.

Of
course he couldn’t do that. Meyer had money. Meyer wasn’t some lowly Third
Order criminal. He had a business, money, importance. Second Order status. If
he disappeared, people would ask questions, investigations would begin that
could end with no one but Byron. Everyone in the office knew Byron despised
Meyer.

Now,
sitting in his empty office, he glanced around before touching Lapin’s code, as
if the man himself might step out of the darkened hallway and accuse Byron of
violating his rights. As if Lapin would know, even standing right beside Byron,
what all the codes and words on the screen meant. Even as Byron broke the Law, his
absolute devotion to it remained intact. He knew without a doubt that every
crime met its punishment in the end. Time was always on the side of the Law.
Unlike men, the Law lived forever. So did criminal cases. Eventually, every
criminal was caught, tried, punished, and sometimes, released.

Byron
hesitated before skimming Lathan’s record. More fines. But he had to know for
sure. Pulling up Lathan’s contact information, he paused, checked behind him
once more, and dove in, his fingers dancing across the screen so quickly they blurred
in front of his eyes, pulling and sliding information across the panels. He’d
seldom done tracer activations, but once he’d done Lapin’s, the memory rose to
the surface of his mind.

Code
Invalid
, his computer said. The trackers had vanished into the mountains
and ceased, as if they’d never lived at all, swallowed up by the shifting
drifts of snow, not simply murdered but snuffed from existence. Just like all
the missing persons in his case. He’d sent trackers after Draven, and they’d
been sucked into the vortex that all those in his case had, never to be heard
from again. And so he knew with absolute certainty now. Meyer Kidd was behind
all of it. He had murdered the trackers, just as he had all the missing
persons. Only this time, he’d chosen his target carefully, preventing them from
retrieving Byron’s sap.

This
time, he had fucked with the wrong man.

Grinding
his teeth with fury, Byron traced Lapin’s codes. Again, the man had blinked out
of existence, like a candle snuffed out between a wetted thumb and forefinger,
not so much as a wisp of smoke to mark his departure. Of the two trackers sent
to retrieve his property, only a pod remained, rootless, anchorless, floating
through the mountains. A gleeful rage rose in Byron’s chest. He had been right.
They were dead, not out there searching and not responding to a Seconds
commands. No one had believed a word Byron had said since coming to Princeton,
and now, finally, he had his vindication. He was right.

A
cold heaviness settled in his gut with his next realization. He could not boast
of his triumph, couldn’t even mention it. He had not gone through the proper
channels before invading a Third’s privacy. As if they had some right to
privacy.

Byron
growled in frustration. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, repressing
the urge to roar out his frustration, to tear the computer from the desk, rip
it apart panel by blue panel, shatter the screens over his knee, smash the
walls of the office, rip the building down one frozen piece at a time. After a few
minutes, Byron opened his eyes, let out his breath, and began the last file.

If
Draven had died, the bitch had, too. If Draven lived, Byron would find him. Wherever
Draven had gone, he’d have kept the sap alive to indulge his perversions. Now Draven
needed punishment, and as an Enforcer, Byron had every right to arrest him and
bring him to justice. Whether the sapien lived didn’t even matter. Whether Draven
had her in his possession was irrelevant. He had warned Draven, and the
jhant
chaatu
hadn’t listened. And now he would pay. No one crossed Byron and got
away with it. No one.

Chapter 48

Meyer
arrived exactly five minutes before the scheduled rendezvous time, punctual as
always. Molly, knowing the importance he placed on such things, was already waiting.
As he parked his snowmobile, he could see her standing next to the lake,
already in her skates. Once, he would have risked having this conversation over
his pod, but now he wouldn’t even dare have it in his apartment. He didn’t
think anyone had planted a bug, but powerful men never could be too
careful—especially powerful men who were top at irritating members of Law
Enforcement.

He
smiled as he slid down the slope to the lake, which he’d had swept and smoothed
the night before, specially for Molly’s visit. “Hello, hello, love,” he crowed
as he approached to embrace the girl who stood a bit taller than he did. Though
she wasn’t his favorite among his girls, she was the oldest, and therefore the
most useful. “How was your ride up?” he asked.

“Cold,”
she said, hugging herself. She had seldom come to Princeton with him, but since
she’d become his helicopter pilot, he’d required it, allowing her to leave only
for small errands. With Byron crawling down his back, he had to take extra
precautions, like keeping his pilot on hand for quick getaways.

“Let’s
get moving before we freeze to the ice,” he said. He handed Molly his skates,
and she knelt to remove his shoes one at a time and lace him into his skates.
When she’d finished, she stood and brushed the snow from her knees with her
self-warming gloves. “So, what did you find?” Meyer asked as he began to glide
across the ice.

“I
found the man you were looking for,” she said.

“Yes,
yes, very good,” he said. “What about him? Where is he? What’s he doing?”

“He’s
living in an endlot, with the sap,” she said. She didn’t skate as well as he,
but she could stay upright. “He’s somewhat scary,” she added after a moment.

“Is
that so? He didn’t look all that frightening in the pictures.”

“Well,
he sort of was.” She concentrated on adjusting a finger of her glove. “He’s
pretty nice looking, though.”

Meyer
laughed. “Is that so?”

“Kind
of,” she said. “But mostly just scary.”

“Good
work, Molly,” he said. “Very nicely done. Did you get an eye in the fence?”

“I
set it up before he saw me.”

“He
saw you?”

“Yes,
he saw me watching him.”

“What
were you doing watching him?”

“You
told me to watch him,” Molly said. “I put the eye in the fence, and then I was
watching him bathing in the snow, and he saw me.”

“You
were watching him bathe? I didn’t think you were interested in men that way.”

Molly
looked highly uncomfortable, which Meyer found delightful. Though he preferred
all his girls to evolve while still in childhood, as he had, he wouldn’t cast
Molly out if she was interested in sex. She was too useful. “I don’t,” she
said. “I’m not.”

“Very
well,” he said. “So you watched him bathe, and he saw you. And then what did he
do?”

“He
chased me away.”

Meyer
laughed again. “Is this all on the eye? I’d right like to see a naked man
chasing you through the snow.”

“He
put on his pants first,” she said, somewhat defensively, he thought.

“That’s
too bad,” Meyer said. “I was halfway hoping he ravished you on vid. That would
have been quite an entertaining watch.”

“He
didn’t,” she said. “He just caught me, and I kicked him in the face and got
away. I could savor the sap, so I know she’s there, but he was super weak. He
must have gotten hurt and not made up for it by eating extra. I got away
without hardly trying.” She glanced at Meyer as if anticipating some reward.
Maybe she did deserve one.

“Well
done, love,” he said. “You have done all I asked and more. You can go home
tomorrow if you like. What would you like for payment?”

“Maybe
I could…” She faltered and began fiddling with her glove again.

“What?
Spit it out, now. I haven’t got all night. I’m very busy and important.”

“Yes,
of course,” she said. “Well, I’ve been thinking, maybe I’d like to live
somewhere else and try it out?”

“You
want to move here? Or Moines?”

“No,
I mean…I’ve loved living with all of you, but maybe I could try living alone.
Like other Thirds.”

“Ah,
of course,” he said. “You are old enough to pass, I imagine, with a few
alterations. I’ll look into it. I have a few houses I could loan you, in either
Texas or Moines.”

“Oh,
you don’t have to.”

“Nonsense,”
he said. “I take care of my girls. Besides, asking to leave us isn’t a payment.
I wouldn’t be giving you anything.” He thought as they circled the lake. “I
have a place in Moines I think you’d like. Very cute little house in a nice
neighborhood, one of my employees up there just moved out. I may need your
services again, but for now, you can take your things and make yourself quite
at home there. I’ll set you up on my system and you can make it your official
residence when we get back to Princeton.”

“Are
you ready now?” she asked. “I’m a little cold.”

“Stay
a while,” he said. “Let’s skate. This is delightful, isn’t it?” They moved in
concentric circles, working their way towards the center of the frozen lake.

“What
are you going to do to him?” she asked after a time.

“Why,
nothing, for now,” he said.

“You
didn’t have me place the eye so you could catch him doing something and then
have him arrested, or killed, or anything like that, did you?”

He
laughed. “Well, I see he’s made quite the impression on you. That’s a lot of
concern you have for a sex pervert and a criminal.”

“I’m
not concerned,” she said. “I just wondered.”

“I’m
sure,” Meyer said. “Rest assured, though, I haven’t any evil designs on the
bloke. If I meant to invalidate him, I would have given you a quite different
task. I only wanted to see what he was doing. That’s why I gave you an eye, not
a stake.”

“Okay,”
she said in a tiny voice.

“And
next time, don’t let him see you, you daft cow,” he said. “He’s a criminal, probably
bristling with stakes. If you hadn’t caught him with his pants down, he’d have
had one in his hand no doubt, and he could have killed you.”

“Sorry.”

“I
meant for you to watch him through the eye. Not stand outside watching him, you
rotten brain. If he’d caught you, he’d have squeezed my name from you, no
doubt. Then my fun and games would be over.” Meyer wasn’t terribly concerned
about Draven learning his name. He didn’t think the outlaw would do anything
about it, or that a Third would have the power to harm him. But he didn’t like
to think of anyone else being able to squeeze Molly for information, if she
made such a careless mistake again.

“I’m
sorry, it will never happen again.”

“Better
not.” He smiled and shook his head. Yes, he would be able to use Molly quite
well. Maybe he’d keep her within easy reach for a while, for the next time he
needed her. If the eye she’d placed in the fence did its job, though, he
wouldn’t need her to see what Draven was up to with Byron’s sap. He’d have it
all on live-stream anytime he wanted to watch.