The Renegades (The Superiors) (5 page)

Chapter 13

Meyer
was lying in bed watching a vid about an evil villain who pulled Superiors’
laniary teeth as they slept when Byron contacted him. Meyer switched over to
take the call. Though he’d been enjoying himself well enough, talking to the
Enforcer always proved entertaining. The vid was pure rubbish, anyhow. Really,
who wouldn’t wake up if their teeth were yanked out by the roots?

“Hello
there, Enforcer,” Meyer said. Byron’s face lit up the wall, supersized. Meyer
used the controller to shrink it. He didn’t much like seeing anyone’s face
wall-sized, and Byron wasn’t the most attractive specimen. “What a lovely
surprise,” Meyer said, sitting up in bed. “Tell me, how is your investigation?
Have you heard from my dear Herman?” Meyer hid his desire to laugh behind a
friendly smile.

“I’m
sure your guess is as good as mine,” Byron said.

“And
how have you been? You don’t look as cheerful as last time we visited.”

“Cheerful?
I’m quite cheerful, thank you. The case is coming along well, I’m adjusting to
mountain life.”

“Ah,
that mountain air. You’ve got to love it, don’t you? I’ll be up in a month, you
know. I can hardly wait. Will you come by and visit with me again?”

Byron
grimaced. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Nor
would I,” Meyer said. This was such fun.

“How’s
your business? Making more pretty windmills?”

“I’ve
got a few ideas bubbling in the old brain-pot, as my mum used to say. Thanks
for asking. Actually, we’re working on something that could be the next big
thing in turbines. But it’s still in the conceptual stage. And you? How’s your
family?”

“Good,
thanks. Yours?”

“Well,
I don’t have family. I think you know that.”

“Ah,
right. I forget that a child can live without parents nowadays.”

Unable
to hold back his delight any longer, Meyer let out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a
splendid world. How are your saps getting along in the colder climate?”

“Quite
well,” Byron said in a clipped manner. He looked markedly stiff. “Yours? You
let any more run away lately? That happens quite often with you, I’m sure.”

“No,
just the three. And one came back, of course. But you know what I always say—a
happy sap is a good sap. You should test out my theory and see if it works for
you.”

“Thanks
for the advice. I think I can handle my saps just fine.”

“Ah,
but your record is blemished.”

Byron’s
eyebrows drew together. “What does that mean?”

“Oh,
nothing. You had just mentioned last winter that you’d never had a sap escape.
But that wasn’t true, was it?”

This
time Byron just stared into the screen and didn’t speak for a good minute. “I
haven’t.”

“Well,
you did get her back, so you could deny that she escaped. But technically—”

“How
do you know about that?” Byron leaned forward, his eyebrows drawn into a fierce
frown.

Meyer
adopted his most innocent, childlike face and shrugged. “Oh, you know. Word
gets around. It has been such a long time ago.”

“Yes,
except that no one knows about that except Enforcers.”

“Well,
I’m sure you’re right. Rumors, I’d guess.” Meyer shrugged again.

“What
rumors?” Byron’s voice had turned thunderous.

Meyer
opened his eyes very wide. “No disrespect, sir, but Enforcers are people like
anyone else. And people talk. I must have heard it in passing.”

Byron
glared. “Or perhaps from your ‘dear’ Herman. It seems your method of
disciplining saps is still much less effective than mine.”

“Oh,
yes. I agree with that. But I’d take the expense of losing a few when the rest
are so happy with me. Tell me, Enforcer, are your saps happy?”

“I
don’t give a damn about their happiness,” Byron exploded. After a moment, he
regained control. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll be keeping eyes on you. And when
I’m not, you can be sure someone else is.”

“I
wouldn’t expect any less from the best,” Meyer said, smiling sweetly. “I really
must let you go. So sorry we couldn’t chat longer. I’m right in the middle of
something.”

He
shut off the talk feature on his screen and lay back on the bed to delight in
his victory. He sighed and closed his eyes. That had been the most fun yet. He
knew the Enforcer didn’t like him. Most people didn’t. One thing you could say
for sure about Superiors—they had egos the size of small countries. No one
wanted to admit he’d been outsmarted by someone who had been a child at
evolution, despite the fact that they were now only forty years apart. The
inflexibility of others’ thinking accounted in large for his success.

Overcome
by glee, Meyer leapt to his feet and began jumping. He’d really gotten the
better of the Enforcer that time. Oh, Byron had been furious. The more outraged
he became, the more Meyer wanted to laugh. Just thinking about it made him
laugh, so he laughed and laughed and jumped and flipped on his huge bed that
covered three meters of one wall. He hadn’t had so much fun in years.
Outsmarting an Enforcer—that was priceless fun, and he got it for free. He’d
always excelled at economic calculations.

Chapter 14

Goddamn
punk kid. Where the hell did he get off talking to an Enforcer like that? Byron
ought to have him arrested for contempt of the Law. What a little brat. And how
had he gained information on Cali’s escape?

Enforcers
talk my ass
, Byron thought, pacing around his apartment. He’d find
something on the kid if it killed him. If the boy had nothing to hide, he
wouldn’t act so damn smug.

Unless
he just wanted to mess with Byron’s head…

But
why would anyone want to mess with his head for nothing? Meyer would have a
reason. All the little coincidences had to add up to something. The two missing
saps that had belonged to Kidd, the mention of one of them by a recaptured
escapee, Kidd knowing about Cali. He knew, alright. He’d probably been there,
sniffing around that creepy old movie theater, watching from above. For all
Byron knew, Kidd had drained all the dead saps. It did make a kind of sense,
now that Byron thought about it.

Draven
and Angel had been incapacitated. He’d paralyzed them with his Deactivator.
Neither could have moved to take the steel spike from his skull. A third party
had to have helped. Why hadn’t he thought of it earlier? Of course it had been
Meyer. Meyer had removed the spikes, and Angel and Draven had escaped with him.
He’d aided in the escape of two criminals. Finally, Byron had some hard
evidence. Only he didn’t really have hard evidence. He just knew. Who else
would do a thing like that?

What
were they organizing for? Some sort of government overthrow? That could mean
war. Byron shuddered. No one wanted another war. No one sane. The last one had
lasted a century. Who knew how long the next one would last.

Byron
knew he needed to get out and do something, stop obsessing about work. Being a
naturally outgoing person who made friends easily, normally he would have gone
to a restaurant to have a drink and play some games. But here in the mountains,
people were different. They weren’t so open to outsiders, and Byron hadn’t met
a single person he’d call a friend. He genuinely despised the mountains. Not
one good thing had happened to him since he’d arrived.

He
put on a jacket and headed for the door, thinking he’d go down to a bar
somewhere. But at the last minute, he decided to eat at home to save a little
money. Upon entering the sapien apartment, he found the male sitting on the bed
cleaning its fingernails very delicately. No wonder the souldamned things
hadn’t made babies. The male looked more female than the female.

“Where’s
your mate?” he asked. He grabbed the male, bit its arm and handed it a cup.

“In
the garden.”

Byron
stepped around the end of the bedroll and slid the door back. The female stood
at the edge of the garden looking out through the bars. It turned with a start
when Byron opened the door. It looked…something. Scared.

The
wind whipped its hair in its face, and it put her hand to its neck.

“What
are you doing out here?” Byron demanded.

“Oh.
Nothing. I was just…enjoying the night.”

Not
much of a night for enjoyment. The air was cold and had the sting of winter in
it, and the wind didn’t help any. When it gusted again, the female had to take
a step back with the force of it.

“What’s
wrong with your neck?” Byron asked.

Its
hand hadn’t fallen from where it had raised it when he came out. “Nothing. You
scared me, and I turned too fast and got a cramp.”

“Get
in here so I can eat. And stop loitering out here. I can’t have my saps
freezing to death because they don’t have the sense to know when it’s cold. Get
away from those bars, too. There’s nothing out there you need to see. You get
any more ideas about running away, next time I’ll cut your whole damn leg off.”

The
sapien came inside slowly, head bowed. Finally learning a little respect. About
time, too. Byron bit its arm three times. He wasn’t in the mood to wait around
for a meal. The female smelled sappy even before he bit it.

“I
gather you’re on your cycle,” he said with distaste. “It’s time I got you bred
again. I’ll bring in a breeder from another farm next week. If you can’t give
me a baby after three tries, I’ll have to find a female replacement for
Shelton. I’m not ready to sell you yet, even though I ought to. I can rent a
male easily enough. I’ll just have to get the new female bred.”

Byron
wanted some saplings to sell, and he was tired of waiting. Renting a breeder
cost a lot, but it cost less than owning one. Though the male wasn’t the
defective part of Byron’s pair, he’d have to go. Too bad his sap wasn’t as appealing
as the female’s. The male was obedient and well trained. That souldamned female
caused nothing but trouble, always asking for more chain or more seeds or more
jars. Never stopped asking for things, except when it ran away. And its value
would drop significantly if it couldn’t reproduce. He’d lose money if he sold it
now, and he hated to lose money on any investment.

Byron
drank his meal and went to the door between the room and the garden to make
sure it had closed tightly. “Stay out of the garden,” he said. “Nothing grows
out there this time of year.”

He
left the sapien apartment, disgusted with the stench of them that clung to him
for a few minutes after his visits to their apartment. Soon enough he was
outside, and the streaking wind sucked the rank odor from him. He debated
walking but decided against it. Too windy and too cold. He’d just drive over
and play a game at the bar, maybe drink a glass of wine or two, and then he’d
come home and go to bed. Nobody ever needed him down at the office, and he
didn’t want to work tonight, anyway. He was stuck in a dead town working on a
dead case. As much as he despised Meyer Kidd, at least the brat’s visit might
bring a little life to the job.

When
he’d nearly reached the bar, his dash screen lit up with Marisol’s lovely face.
“Hey, baby,” she cooed when he switched her on.

“Hello,
my lovely wife,” he said.

“How’s
the case going?” she asked. “Is my big tough husband giving them hell?”

Sometimes
he wondered if she called just to irritate him. If he’d made progress on the
case, she would have known about it. And yet she insisted on asking about it as
soon as he answered, almost as if she wanted to goad him.

“Of
course,” he said, his voice even. “What are you getting into tonight?”

“Oh,
you know,” she said with a wave of her hand. “This and that.”

“Going
to a club, then?”

She
laughed. “You know me too well.”

“I
have been married to you for over two hundred years.”

“Ugh,
don’t say it like that,” she said. “You make it sound like I’m ancient.”

“You
don’t look it,” Byron said. “You’re as beautiful as the day we met.” He didn’t
have to lie to her, either. Hers was a beauty of the timeless variety that
lasted through all the fads and changing ideals, undeniable even when she
didn’t fit the decade’s popular mold. And though she had both the means and
connections to schedule the world’s premier sculptors, she never surgically
altered her appearance.

“Why,
thank you,” she said, beaming as if he hadn’t paid her that same compliment
thousands of times. “I like to look my best.”

“For
all those men you’re going to dance with.”

“Don’t
be silly,” she said with another dismissive wave. “It’s just dancing. You can’t
expect me to sit at home and rot for the next ten years.”

“I
don’t,” he said, trying to smile through wooden lips. “Go have fun.”

“You
could come home and visit.” Her lips made a pretty pout. “I haven’t touched you
in so long I’m beginning to forget what you feel like.”

“I
wish you’d what all men feel like,” Byron said. “I hate to think about all
those men groping you on the dance floor.”

“You’re
so silly,” she said, though she looked delighted. “I only dance with a few
people, and they’re usually all Enforcers.”

At
least she was in good hands, though he didn’t like to think of her in any hands
but his own. He trusted the Enforcers from his office back home, though. They
would never betray him. Unlike the ones in Princeton, they all respected him.

“Did
you call to ask my permission?” he asked with a small smile. He parked outside
the bar but made no move to get out.

She
laughed. “No, I just wanted to see your face. I miss you. The kids are growing
so much you won’t recognize them.”

Byron
just shook his head at her never-ending charade that they were still human.

“Oh,
you’re no fun,” she said, pouting again. “Why won’t you play along? You’re such
a grump sometimes. I don’t know why I even call.”

Byron
sighed. “I’m sorry. You know this case is wearing on me.”

“I
know, baby,” she said, smiling now. “I bet I know something that would cheer
you up…”

“Not
unless you have some new evidence.”

“I
have evidence of how much I miss you,” she said. “Want me to get out my
joystick?”

He
shook his head. He didn’t like sex gadgets nearly as much as she did. “I’ll try
to visit soon. I only want the real you, not some electronic version.”

“Oh,
okay,” she said with a sigh. “Where are you, anyway? It looks like you’re in
the car. Are you out?”

“Just
to get a drink,” he said. “I’m tired of my apartment.”

“Oh,
I wish I was with you,” she said, her voice nearing a whine. “Or you were with
me.” She never seemed to get jealous as he did. But then, he never gave her a
reason to.

When
they’d said their goodbyes, he went inside the bar, though he had no appetite
for strangers. All he wanted was the comfort of Marisol, his kids, his home.
Upon entering, he drew the attention of a table of women near the bar. He
hadn’t changed after work, though he had no designs in wearing his uniform
tonight. He sometimes took pleasure in all the pandering and bowing and sirring
he got from Thirds, but tonight, he only wanted a quiet place to sit and some
decent conversation.

One
of the women who had noticed him slid in beside him at the corner table as soon
as he sat down. “Want some company, sir?” she asked, turning towards him and
resting her elbow on the table. Mounds of cleavage spilled from the exceedingly
low neckline of her shirt.

“I’m
married,” Byron said.

“Married?”
she asked, blinking at him as if he’d proclaimed himself a sap. “But sir…”

“Happily,”
Byron said. “So no.” He despised Third women, most of whom tried so hard to be
sexy that they came across like caricatures of whores. No one knew how to be
sexy like Marisol anymore, while maintaining some class. When the disappointed
woman had heaved her comical body out of the seat beside him, Byron switched on
the tabletop screen and began to search for an active chess partner.