Three (24 page)

S
unlight streamed in through a crack in the shade, a pure white sliver that fell warm across Cass’s cheek. Her eyelids fluttered, drew open heavily. She felt herself waking, slowly, awareness leaking in like warm water pooling in from under a door. And as she woke, she was loath to move. The bed was more comfortable than any she could remember ever having slept in before, the sheets and blankets a secure cocoon of warmth and comfort that seemed to have been arranged and fitted to her exact frame. Wren was gone, but Cass felt so perfectly at peace that her usual desperate need to know where he was at all times failed to kick in. In the other room, no doubt. Safe. She could hear the low tones of Three’s voice through the door, a quiet rumble like distant thunder.

She rolled to her side and arched, stretching, scissoring her legs to different corners of the foot of the bed, feeling the sheets run smooth and cool across the bare skin of her legs. jCharles had given her a stack of quint the evening before, which her bloodstream had greedily accepted. Cass relaxed her stretch, accessed GST. It was nearly noon. She’d slept for fourteen hours.

She sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed. Took a deep breath. A smile crept to her lips. She felt good. Better than good. She felt
well.
She slid out of bed, dressed, and padded barefoot into the adjoining room.

“Mama!”

The conversation stopped when Wren called to her. He hopped off the couch and ran over. She stooped to intercept him, and swung him up to hug him tightly. jCharles was sitting in one of the plush chairs. Three, as usual, was standing. Mol was seated on the couch, next to the spot where Wren had been moments before. She had a book open on her lap. Apparently she’d been reading to him.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Cass said.

“Hope we didn’t wake you,” Mol answered. “I was trying to keep them quiet, but you know how boys are when you get ’em together.”

“Thanks, Miss Mol, but I probably should’ve been up about six hours ago.”

Mol shot Three a flat look. “Now you’ve got her doing it.” Her eyes were red, slightly puffy. Cass guessed she’d been crying recently. “At this rate, you’ll have Twitch calling me ‘Miss’ before you go.”

Three was unmoved, his stone mask intact. He looked Cass in the eye without expression. Grim. Cass couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired while she slept.

“So what’s the plan?”

Three’s look lingered for an uncomfortably long moment. Almost angry.

“Tryin’ to work that out now, actually,” jCharles answered. “We seem to have a timing issue.”

Cass moved on into the room, letting Wren slide down to his feet as she did so. To her surprise, he went right back to the couch and plopped down next to Mol, close. Right up next to her. She dropped an arm around him casual, like family. Cass, aware of the tension in the room but unable to identify the reason, situated herself on the arm of the couch, neither sitting nor standing.

“Anything I can help with?”

“No,” Three answered in his direct way. A look passed between him and jCharles. She recognized the look, the one that Three used to indicate there would be no further discussion on the matter. jCharles either didn’t read it the same way, or didn’t care.

“Actually–”

“I said no, Twitch.”

“Options and time, man. We’re short on both. Don’t say no to me again unless you’ve got a solution.”

“I’ll go,” Mol offered.

“Absolutely not,” Three said without looking at her. jCharles glanced over, warm, but shook his head.

“I’m not a cripple. I can still handle myself.”

Cass got the sense everyone was talking around her, and she didn’t like it.

“I know, Mol, but I didn’t come here to bring you into this
–
”

“If you’re in it,
we’re
in it,” jCharles said, cutting Three off. He leaned forward on the edge of his chair, voice intense. “That’s how it works.
Spatz
Three, do you have any idea how tired it gets, you playing this solo warrior gig all the time?”

“jCharles,” Cass injected. “What’s the problem?”

Three looked her way, but jCharles ignored him.

“Schedule. We’ve got to be in two places at once. And neither of them are pleasant.”

“And I can’t go to one?”

jCharles looked back to Three, eyebrows raised. Cass saw the muscle of Three’s jaw working. Finally, he turned to her.

“I’ve gotta go see the Bonefolder’s people. They won’t talk to me without Twitch there. But he’s got a chem drop lined up Downtown.”

“Caught a lucky break on the timing,” jCharles added, “but with the quantity they’re moving, they won’t wait around. And it might be a week before I can get a handle on that much again.”

Cass understood now. And it offended her that Three wouldn’t consider letting her take care of the drop. She stood up.

“Then of course I’m going,” she said. “It’s for me, it’s my thing. I’ll handle it.”

“Too dangerous, Cass,” Three answered. “Greenmen don’t patrol down there. You don’t know your way around. You’re a wo
–
”

He stopped himself, but not soon enough.

“What, a woman? Who do you think I am, Three? I’m not some useless skew, you know. You think a crew like RushRuin picked me up because they felt sorry for me?”

If she hadn’t been so worked up, she would’ve noticed the sudden look of surprise and concern that passed between jCharles and Mol.

“jCharles, just tell me where I need to be and when. I can handle it.” jCharles looked back at Three, but Cass wasn’t having it. “Don’t look at him, he doesn’t have a say.”

Three smoldered but didn’t reply. Cass took small satisfaction in knowing he didn’t really have any other choice.

“One sec, lemme sig you the spot.”

He bursted the location to her. She pulled up a satellite overlay, gipsed the path, scouted the area via the image projected directly on her corneas.

“That’s what we call ‘Downtown’.”

Rows of concrete blocks were arrayed around a large central structure that looked like an old aircraft hangar. None of the wild color that painted the rest of the city was apparent Downtown. Everything was still cast in its original concrete gray. Cass realized the blocks were isolation units, individual prisons for what once must’ve been Greenstone’s most violent and deadly citizens. From the looks of it, the neighborhood hadn’t changed much. More garbage, maybe.

“How much product are we talking?”

“Forty-five hundred in tabs.”

Cass couldn’t help but jolt at the number. Even the labs she’d frequented back in Fourover never dealt in more than a thousand when it came to quint. Too potent. Too much risk to have all in one place. She was almost afraid to ask, but knew she had to. “For how much?”

“Three thousand Hard. But the first half’s been paid.” Cass glanced to Three, but he’d turned away from her now. He was busying himself with his pack and harness. No doubt he’d paid for the chems. Probably enough to last him a year the way he traveled. She felt suddenly wrong for what she’d said to him. And how she’d said it.

“The people to meet check out fine,” said jCharles. “Not direct connections of mine, but they come with the right credits. It’s just, you know, walking in with that much cold and back out with that much q-dose.”

“I understand. What time?”

“An hour.”

“It gonna be a problem if it’s me and not you?”

“Nah, I’ll send word. Even Downtown they respect Bonefolder’s time. You show up with the money, they’ll do the deal. It’s these guys.” He transmitted two pictures, which she flashed up. They were practically kids. Gangly, bookish types. “The long-hair’s Tyke. His friend is Jantz. They’ll have security. Tyke’s the talker. Jantz is the nervous one.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

“Yeah, open that shirt up a bit, you might get a discount.”

“Twitch!” Mol snapped, and Cass jumped, having forgotten she was in the room.

jCharles shrugged with a sheepish smile.

“I’m just saying. They’re chemists, Mol.”

“Mol,” Cass said, a potential hitch having just occurred to her. “Do you think Wren could stay here? While I’m away?”

“Of course, Cass. Absolutely. If it’s OK with Wren here, I mean.” She squeezed him once, smiled down at him.

Wren looked uncertain.

“Will you be OK without me?” he asked. His sincerity brought unexpected tears to Cass’s eyes. Her baby. Her would-be protector.

“Yes, baby, I’ll be fine. You stay here with Miss Mol.”

“OK,” he answered. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“OK.”

She walked over and kissed him on the head, then turned back to jCharles.

“Gimme just a minute, then I’ll head on. I’d like to have some time to scout it out before I go in.”

“Probably a good plan.”

She glanced to Three who was still carefully ignoring the whole exchange. She couldn’t see his face, but she could picture it. Cass returned to the back room and made the bed. She didn’t know why, exactly. It just felt wrong to leave it a mess.

Afterwards, she went into the bathroom, ran cool water in the small basin, and washed her face. She pulled her hair back tight into a short ponytail. Looked at herself in the mirror. Her color was better. Her eyes steady.

“It’s just a buy,” she said to her reflection.

“It is and it isn’t,” said Three from the doorway. Cass jumped. Of course she hadn’t heard him come in.

“Don’t try to talk me out of it, Three.”

He shook his head, looked over the freshly-made bed.

“No, I–” he started, then stopped. Eyes narrowed. Gathered himself. “Look, I didn’t mean…” he trailed off. Made eye contact. Cass was surprised to find something behind his usually-unreadable dark eyes. Genuine concern. “You watch yourself. And if you see anything you don’t like, you walk away. We’ll figure something else out. You just walk away.”

She nodded, moved again by his suddenly obvious concern for her.

“We’ll be back before sundown,” he said.

“Alright.”

He nodded and withdrew. When Cass returned to the main room, he was nowhere to be found. Mol was reading to Wren again, and he sat enthralled. jCharles approached and put himself between Cass and the others.

“You shouldn’t need this,” he said in low tones, “but I’d feel better if you had it.” He slipped her one of his stubby jitterguns. “You know how to use it?”

Cass gripped the chunky weapon, tested its weight. It wasn’t as viscerally terrifying as Three’s pistol, but its design was still a clear indication of vicious intent. Its some two-dozen slender barrels were tightly stacked in a squared-off housing. A classic close-range weapon for personal protection. Cass nodded and tucked it into her coat pocket.

“Just a precaution,” he said. “More for me than you.”

“Thanks, jCharles.” She leaned around jCharles. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.”

Wren looked up, and quickly hopped down. Her wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his head in her hip. “Be safe, Mama.”

“I will, baby. Take care of Miss Mol while I’m gone.”

“I will.” He slipped back away from her, and returned to his place on the couch. Snuggled into Mol. Cass couldn’t remember him ever having taken to someone so quickly before. Mol smiled and nodded, and without another word Cass left the safety of the
Samurai McGann
and plunged into the stream of humanity that seemed to flow in every direction except for the one she wanted to go: towards the darkest corner of Greenstone.

T
hree stared up at the building that seemed to loom over them despite being only three stories tall. jCharles had gone in first to make sure everything got off on the right foot. As important as this meeting was, Three found it tough to focus on the task at hand. He wondered how Cass was handling the trek. Tried to convince himself she’d be fine. She was right, after all. She’d run with RushRuin. There was no doubt she could handle herself. She’d already proven how tough she was, fighting for her life and covering twenty or more miles a day without complaint. And she was back up and running on quint, which meant… well, it likely meant that even Three had no idea what she was capable of now. He was probably in more danger than she was, anyway.

Three surveyed the street and surrounding buildings for the fifth time since Twitch had gone in. This section of Greenstone was surprisingly quiet. Almost vacant. There were a few stragglers here and there, but they seemed out of place. No, actually, they seemed too
in
place. Too evenly spaced, too strategically positioned. Three watched a man in a long, rumpled coat pass by on the opposite side of the street, noted how careful the man was not to look Three’s way, how careful to keep the coat closed. Perimeter security. Three wondered how much hardware the guy was packing inside the coat. Long gun seemed unnecessary for a two-man meeting. Then again, in Greenstone it never hurt to be over-prepared. Three reached inside his coat and checked his pistol, gave a slight tug to loosen it in its holster. Just in case.

What was taking Twitch so long?

T
he nearer Cass drew toward the Downtown district, the thinner the crowds got. Knots of people walked together here and there, others clustered together in doorways, on steps. Some glanced at her as she followed the internal beacon that guided her towards her destination, but most ignored her presence completely. She kept her head up, her stride confident, shoulders back. Anyone who looked her way found her looking right back. Experience had taught her that the projection of strength was more important than actual possession of it. Still, it helped her confidence knowing at least she could boost again if she needed it.

Though the walls and alleys still bore the occasional spray of vivid symbols marking territory, the color had otherwise begun to drain from the surroundings. And with the loss of that wild façade, Greenstone was looking less and less like a vibrant city and taking on more and more of its original personality. The street hadn’t changed width, but the walls felt closer, taller, more dominating.

Further ahead, Cass could see the rounded dome of the hangar peeking above the concrete-gray horizon. She put her head down and focused on reaching her goal. Get in, do the deal, get out. She realized she was gripping the jittergun in a tight fist.

Breathe,
she told herself.