yet.
Robards was rearranging her clothing, hiding the slight welts, in order to make her presentable enough to bring to the baron.
“I can wake her up, but there will be a dangerous mix in her system,” Katz said. “If she takes anything else in the next twelve hours, it could chill her.”
“I’ll watch over her,” Robards said, his voice emotionless.
“And of course, there will probably be some slurring of her words—that is, of course, if she can speak coherently at all.”
“I’ll tell them she’s been drinking.”
“That’s probably best. She’ll seem drunk, might even feel like it, too.”
“Rad-blasted outland scum,” Robards said. “One of them took a liking to this bitch. Asked the baron if she could join them.”
“And the baron agreed?”
“The outlanders wanted to leave, and I instructed the baron to keep them here for a couple or few days, till my rider comes back from Indyville. And so when the old-timer asked to see her, the baron had no choice but to agree.”
“You could always say she’s turned in for the night.”
Robards shook his head. “Tried something like that, but this outlander was persistent. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Probably come here to see her if she doesn’t join them over there.”
Katz produced a large plunge-type syringe from his bag. “This will bring her around,” he said, then sighed. “But she’s your problem after that.”
Robards put a hand on his blaster and said, “Just do it!”
Katz gave Eleander the jab.
At first nothing happened, and then her eyelids fluttered open. “Where, what…” She put a hand on her forehead. “Headache.”
“Thanks,” Robards said.
“Don’t thank me,” Katz replied. “You’re on your own. I want nothing to do with this.”
Robards snickered. “You’re already involved.”
Katz shook his head. “You mention my name, and the baron will get the full story. About the others, too…” He closed his bag and left the room before Robards had a chance to respond.
At the sound of Katz’s departure, Eleander’s eyes opened wider. When she realized Robards was standing over her, she instinctively tried to move away from him, crawling backward like a spider.
“Relax,” Robards said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She looked skeptical.
“The baron wants to see you. Apparently, one of the bastard outlanders has taken a shine to you.”
A sleepy smile broke over Eleander’s face.
“Tidy up,” Robards said, pulling back the blanket. “I don’t want to keep the baron, or the outlanders, waiting.”
Chapter Seven
Baron Schini was a strong, powerful woman who had risen to power in Indyville by virtue of her cunning and keen sense of picking the right person for a job. Her sec force was strong and well trained, and led by a meticulous sec chief named Viviani who left nothing to chance and no detail overlooked.
But the baron was also a wealth of knowledge and information. Her memory was like a strongbox, and anything that she might have trouble remembering was filed in a collection of journal notes. The notes were part of a vast library housed in the center of the ville. Untouched by the nukeblast that devastated much of Indyville, the library had been the first thing the baron had sought control of when she was newly assigned to the previous baron’s sec force. Schini found that by controlling knowledge she also had power, and by acquiring more knowledge, she would acquire even more power. And so the library grew and grew, adding valuable books on subjects as diverse as basket weaving and blaster design. There were books on how to have better sex, and how to fight without blasters, knives or swords—even books on how to chill people with poisons…if you happened to have the right poisons.
The baron had a dozen librarians reading through the texts in the library, each one with a special area of expertise, such as geography, geology, chemistry, biology and history. Every so often, one of the librarians would be called upon to solve a problem pertaining to their area of expertise and, over the years, Indyville had become a very powerful barony, selling knowledge to those who needed it.
Like Sec chief Robards…
“So,” Baron Schini said. “The sec man at the gate says you brought me a quarter pound of bang in exchange for some information.”
“That’s right, Baron.”
“Well, what does Robards want to know?”
The sec man sent by Robards cleared his throat. “Baron DeMann is playing host to a group of outlanders—”
“I thought he hated the scum?”
“He does, but he’s holding them for a reason.”
Baron Schini nodded slowly.
“One of the outlanders, their leader in fact, goes by the name of Ryan. He’s rather distinctive looking with a large scar on the right side of his face and a black patch covering his left eye.”
“Plenty of outlanders have scars like that.”
“Yes, but this one is unique. His band of six includes an albino teenager, an old man, a black woman, another woman, fair skinned with flaming red hair, and a thin man who wears wire-rimmed spectacles and a fedora.”
“A motley crew to be sure, but why the fuck should I care?”
“Sec chief Robards thinks this Ryan may be the same outlander who chilled Baron DeMann’s brother a few years ago in a gaudy house in Spearpoint.”
Baron Schini suddenly appeared more interested in Baron DeMann’s outlanders. If their leader was the one who chilled the baron’s brother, then he’s also the one who chilled her son in the very same gaudy house firefight. “What makes Robards suspect this outlander is the one?”
“Well, he remembered hearing something about a one-eyed outlander working for a man they called Trader, and he knew it was one of the Trader’s men who chilled the baron’s brother while the Trader was at Spearpoint working on a deal with Levi Shabazz.”
“Why not just ask the outlander if he’s the one? Or just chill them all and be done with it?”
“These outlanders are dangerous, and he didn’t want to let them know he suspected who they were until he was sure they were the ones.”
“And so he sent you here to me.”
“Correct.”
“And
