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fell.
McCade wiped his slippery hands on his pants and picked up his meal pak.
"Spigot, if you'd be so kind as to notify the guards of Animal's much deserved
demise, I'd like to eat my dinner. I don't suppose there's much room service
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outside."
The crowd laughed, some stopping to slap him on the back, others shaking his
hand, already ingratiating themselves with the new boss. Then they drifted
away, talking excitedly among themselves. Who'd have thought someone could
walk in and take Animal like that? What kind of taxes will he levy? Who is
this guy anyway?
Meanwhile McCade pretended to eat his meal. But as soon as the crowd was gone,
he stood and sauntered over toward the rocks surrounding the open latrine.
Having made sure no one else was there, he promptly threw up. It was partly
nervous reaction, and partly revulsion at what he'd done. He'd killed many
times, but never so coldly, so calculatedly. The whole thing had gone exactly
as planned.
First he'd pumped Spigot about Animal, then he'd verified the little man's
observations with others, and finally he'd slipped away to buy the knife.
Naturally Animal had lots of enemies, it showed in their eyes whenever his
name was mentioned, and McCade had spotted one honing a handmade knife. He's
spent half his cigars to get it. After that it was simply a matter of time.
Animal wasn't all that bright and, being a creature of habit, used the same
insults time after time to pick his fights, following up with his predictable
charge. In a way the poor bastard had killed himself. McCade straightened up,
wiped his mouth, and left the latrine. By the time he emerged he had a grin
plastered on his face, and was pretending to zip his pants.
"I did like you told me, and they're waiting for you, Sam," Spigot said,
nodding toward the lift tube.
"Thanks, Spigot," McCade replied. "You've been a big help. See you in... how
many hours does it take this crudball to rotate anyway?"
"About twenty."
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"OK, see you in twenty hours then." With that McCade walked over, and
presented himself to Whitey.
Taking no chances, the albino had armed himself with an ugly-looking riot gun,
and his nasty smile made it clear he'd love an excuse to use it.
"So, meat, it didn't take you long to get your ass in trouble, did it? Well,
get in, Torb wants to see you."
McCade noticed that in spite of Whitey's tough talk, both he and the hulking
neanderthal he'd brought with him kept their distance. Apparently anyone who
could take out Animal deserved a certain amount of respect. McCade grinned as
he stepped into the tube.
"You know, Whitey, it doesn't seem possible, but I'd. swear you're even uglier
now than you were six hours ago. What is it... some sort of makeup?"
The neanderthal took a moment to process this, and then broke into deep
grunting laughter. Whitey scowled at him and said, "Shut up, stupid. That goes
for you too, meat. You're in enough trouble as it is."
McCade smiled, and they finished the ride in silence. When the door hissed
open, Whitey motioned
McCade out first. Together they marched across the center of the dome toward a
door on the far side.
Now it was dark outside and therefore cooler inside. When they reached the
door Whitey gave a nod of approval, so McCade palmed it, and stepped through
when it slid open.
He found himself in a surprisingly nice office. Though not fancy, it was clean
and well furnished. Torb dominated the room. He was seated behind a large
metal desk, his huge boots propped up on its bare surface. From what McCade
could see he was surprisingly calm. Or at least that's the way it seemed,
though with all that scar tissue it was hard to tell. Torb's ruby eye remained
motionless, reflecting light, while his good eye looked McCade up and down. A
full minute passed before he spoke.
"So, Animal's dead. Well, you certainly didn't waste any time." He paused
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reflectively, like a judge considering the merits of a difficult case. "On the
one hand that really pisses me off, cause we're always short of meat, but on
the other hand I kinda like it, cause that's the way I'd do it myself. My
guess is you outsmarted him, which sure as hell didn't take much, and now [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]