JO-JO RASTEROVICH

 

‘You what!?’ Jo-Jo’s fists balled in anger and fear lodged in his throat. If Rast had endangered Mira Fedor he would rip the mercenary apart.

Rast saw his expression and squared her shoulders. She stuck out her jaw. ‘They were a few hundred mesurs from the docking tube. They’ve probably gone off sightseeing. Never seen such a pair of gawkers.’

‘Msr Rasterovich. You’re required to return to the Convocation.’ It was the uuli. It stayed outside their tense huddle, twisting its torso nervously.

Jo-Jo swore in every way he could. He had to finish the Convocation discussion to keep trouble away from Berniere—but right now there were only two things he wanted to do, and he wanted to do them at the same time. Find Mira and hunt down Tekton. He cut his losses and turned to the uuli.

‘Show’s over, mate. A friend’s in trouble.’

The uuli’s skin flushed a rainbow of colours, which Jo-Jo expected meant that it was pissed off. ‘It is not appropriate to leave Convocation before dismissal—’

‘Tell Convocation that they’ve got more things to worry about than my interrupted story. This place is crawling with Extros and I don’t think it’s for the sightseeing. I’d say you’ve got problems. Jo-Jo turned his back on the uuli then and faced Rast. ‘You’d better go and find her, hadn’t you?’

For a moment Rast looked like she might argue but Jo-Jo let his expression become ugly. Rast might be an experienced fighter but he had reason. Reason was worth shitloads. So was a ‘nothing to lose’ attitude.

Rast read all that there and nodded. ‘I’ll take Catchut. And you?’

‘Where is Berniere?’

‘Heijunka section near The Hoes. Factory unit is in FF. Will be a medi-lab, I would reckon.’

Heijunka was where Tekton had been reported. Jo-Jo pictured the tourist map. ‘Bell One. I’ll find Berniere and get him out of there. I’ve got a bad feeling about these Extros. They’re everywhere.’

Rast nodded. ‘That’s why I was looking for you. I think we should pull out.’

‘Agreed. See you back at the ‘zoon. And Randall—it better be good news.’

The two exchanged looks and walked away.

 

* * *

 

The fast-trak to Bell One only increased Jo-Jo’s agitation. It was crowded with strange Extro-inhabited creatures, many of the floating gelatinous kind but others as well, including a group of small, almost humanesque-shaped bodies who had what looked like bones protruding through their skin. The rattling as the bones clattered against each other was the most reassuring of their attributes. They bore no facial characteristics on the segment of their body that should have been their head but Jo-Jo noticed a bulbous pod under each arm that was coated in several layers of translucent tissue and was ringed by fine spines. They kept their arms permanently lifted, as if airing their sides but Jo-Jo wondered if it was to allow them to see. They were utterly silent and utterly alien.

By the time he reached the exit conveyor for Bell One, Jo-Jo was drenched in sweat and strung out with worry about the various possibilities. What if Tekton had left the area? What if he was still there? What if he couldn’t find Latourn and Berniere? What if Mira Fedor was in trouble? What if Mira Fedor—

‘Rasterovich!’

Jo-Jo jumped at the sound of his name. Latourn was standing in the up-queue waiting to get on the fast-trak. He glanced around for Berniere but couldn’t see the scholar. He threw up his hands in a questioning gesture.

Latourn dug his hands into his pockets and narrowed his eyes in a mirror of Rast’s action. Jo-Jo took one stride to the dividing barrier and punched him in the solar plexus. Latourn howled and doubled over.

Jo-Jo hauled the bigger man over the barricade, barely feeling the weight. On either side of them ‘esques and aliens scattered to give them room but he shoved Latourn down the conveyor and out of the main stream of pedestrians until he had him backed up against a structural pylon. ‘What fucking game are you and your boss playing? You’re supposed to be with Berniere.’

Latourn pulled a sullen face.

It was then that Jo-Jo noticed the cuts on him: a fine network of them at the base of his throat and on his forearms where his shirtsleeves were pulled up. He grabbed

Latourn’s shirt at the waist and jerked it up to expose his stomach. The mercenary cringed and tried to wrest the material from Jo-Jo’s grasp.

Jo-Jo let it go in disgust. The cuts on Latourn’s stomach were deeper than those on his arms and were neatly connected with stitching like a child’s joining game, excepting where Jo-Jo had punched him. There they were torn and bleeding.

‘If you’ve been in The Hoes then where’s the idiot?’

Latourn fumbled to tuck his shirt in and Jo-Jo noted the glassy eyes. He was stoned as well.

Just as well. Or I— Jo-Jo’s thought stopped there.

Latourn had pulled a blood-sticky knife from his pocket. Be swung it in an unsteady arc. ‘Get out of my face, God-man,’ Latourn hissed. ‘Everyone deserves a little downtime.’

Jo-Jo didn’t flinch. ‘Your boss took a little downtime and now Mira Fedor is missing. What’s yours cost us?’

‘She’s gone?’ Latourn’s knife hand dropped to his side.

‘Maybe. Randall’s looking for her. This place is Extro soup, so we’re pulling out.’

Some of the glassiness left Latourn’s eyes. ‘Berniere went ahead of me to a factory in Heijunka. When I got there, I found a dead balol and a lab-rat that had shitted up its lab gear.’

Jo-Jo’s adrenalin spiked so hard that his temples hurt. ‘A dead balol? How long ago?’

‘Less than an hour, maybe. No police but the rat had called them so I pissed off. Took the scenic route back here, to stay low.’

‘Did the lab-rat say where Berniere had gone?’

‘It was jabbering stupid about a Shadow.’ Latourn shrugged. ‘Didn’t think Berniere had the balls to shoot a balol.’

‘He doesn’t. Sounds like he’s got company of some kind,’ said Jo-Jo flatly. Was it Tekton? The news feed fitted too closely for it to be anyone else. But why would Tekton shoot a balol? Smarts didn’t usually get their hands dirty on anything—Jo-Jo knew that from experience. He wanted to go and talk to the lab-rat but that was too risky from how Latourn had described things. Where would Berniere go if he’d got caught in some crossfire? He would run home—to the biozoon and the protection of the mercenaries.

Jo-Jo turned and began to walk away.

‘Hey!’ shouted Latourn. ‘Where are you going?’

Jo-Jo didn’t care to waste his breath on an answer.