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going on about it? We were all dead anyway. The guy was clinching a Ruzi, two
thousand rounds a minute, full magazine. We were cheese.
"That's not my business. Buy 'em, steal, 'em; I don't give a crap. I do my
job." He gestured with the Ruzi. "It's all meat to me. Like you."
"What if one of them was your kid?" Chuy continued, taking a step forward. I
winced, but the gun didn't go off. "Stuffed full of synthesized sugar and
chilled down like a microwave dinner?"
"Don't got any kids. Don't got a daily woman. Don't want neither." He wiped
liquefying insulating gel from his face. "Think I'd take a run like this if I
did?" Gel dripped off his forehead into one eye and he rubbed at it.
Before anybody could say anything, Chuy charged.
The Ruzi went off. In the confines of the induction container it sounded like
Chinese new year in Frisco. I saw that on a docuvit once. Kilbee screamed and
bolted. Christo, we all did. Just because Chuy chose to freak didn't mean the
rest of us had lost it. Slugs ricocheted all around us as we spilled out the
open back of the container.
Kilbee got one in the ass. He bawled like a kid. Huong had one part his short
black hair, leaving a nice red trail behind it. That's how the federales
caught them; by tracking the essence. We all went different ways, running like
wild men from the warehouse. Since I wasn't hit and didn't leave no trail, I
was the one who made it to the car and ripped out of there. I was sorry for
Huong and Kilbee, but hell, I didn't know how bad they'd been shot or how long
it would've taken 'em to make it to the parking lot.
I didn't go to my codo. Lita was sleeping at her place but I woke her
prontissimo, told her what had happened. At that time I didn't know that Huong
and Kilbee had been picked up, and I didn't care. At a time like that you don'
hang around waiting for the door to buzz. It might not be your amigos.
We had a pre-arranged place to rendez, down in the Isthmus. I left my madre
and brother and sister a terse note, told them I'd be in touch soon as I got a
chance.
Then I went after Lita.
She hesitated, but she came with me. See, I'd seen a lot
Ajlan Dean Foster that night and all of a sudden having a family and a real
esposa and some kids and settling down somewhere peaceable and quiet far, far
away from meatrunners and Ruzis sounded like a pretty sensible idea. After she
got through kissing me (ee-ha: salsa!) it didn't take her long to pack. She
didn't have no job to quit no more. I'd been taking care of her since our
first big success. As we were taking a robocab to the airport I looked up from
where I was all squeezed down on the floorboards an' asked her to marry me.
She didn't have time to think about it, which is maybe why she said yes. I
don' care why, just that she did.
I didn't relax until we landed in Gatun City and took the boat out to the
island. I waited there, calypsoing the dish all over the Clarke belt,
monitoring the news vits. It was all there two days later. Not big stuff. I
saw that they'd picked up Huong and Kilbee and the blood placed them at the
warehouse. Mi compadres, sweet little loco senwhores that they are, didn't
implicate me, though. They said it was all Chuy's idea, Chuy's plan, Chuy's
work. That left me virgin and in the clear.
'Cause Chuy was dead.
Six slugs. None through vital organs, he just bled to death before the
parameds arrived. When the old warehouse night watchman heard the Ruzi go off
he naturally called the feder-ales first. The meatrunner was dead, too, Chuy's
malachite-shafted little vibroblade stuck clean through his throat. I always
thought that was a fern's weapon. Guess I was wrong. Sorry, homber. There was
blood everywhere, which the news vit only hinted at.
Still, I wasn't going back. Too chancy. I had plenty of money. So did Kilbee
and Huong, though it didn't look like they'd be able to get at it for eight
years. That's what the legals hit 'em with. They blamed everything on Chuy,
and the legals couldn't prove otherwise, but they could sure stick 'em for
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skraggin' the container. Maybe Kilbee's rich folks could've got him out
sooner, but they washed their hands of him. Figures.
Only thing that didn't figure was Chuy rushing that guy. It was a lunatico,
stupid move, which is probably the only reason he was able to get in close
with his vibrato before he was cut down. I told Lita about it and she couldn't
figure out why he did it neither.
I found out a year later, when I went roundabout to tell his madre how sorry I
was. Took a long circuitous route to get an answer back to me, too, which is
how I intended it.
Chuy'd had a little sister. All black hair an' bright eyes. He doted on her,
lived for her. One day when he was seven and she was four she wafted. Just
vanished off the damn street, in the mid of the day. Nobody saw nothin'. They
never found her. No body, nothing. She just evaporated. Maybe she was abused [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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