Chapter Three

"Uncle, what you doing, yeah? Seems like no kind of plan!"

"If I tell," Kor said, stepping up behind Qivan, "it'll ruin the surprise. Tisbel, they still out there?"

"Yeah." She sounded glum from within her digital host. "Practically turned my hallway into a block party. There's more of them now, too."

"Couldn't have told me that, before?"

"I accept no responsibility for anyone's safety within the hallway outside my door, or on this floor of the block. That's the Blues' job, not mine." 

"Well, they're doing fuck all, aren't they? And Qivan's friends are ruining your business."

"Hey, uncle, they's no friends of Driver's." Tisbel, for her part, didn't say anything. They'd concluded their business for the time being, and Kor knew she was only helping because of his promise of more down the line.

"Tisbel, want you to open the door when I give the word."

Kor adjusted his weapon's new shoulder harness, grimaced as he tugged at the mansu leather and tried to keep it from digging into his broad chest. He pulled together the new coat's front, tried to picture what it looked like. The soldier was already beginning to sweat beneath the new layers of reinforced clothing, and had begun to wonder at whether its added protection was worthwhile.

"You look fine," Tisbel said, sounding as if she was a partner frustrated by their spouse's extended stay in a boutique.

"If you had mirrors, this wouldn't be a problem."

She made an exasperated sound. "Look, are you going to get out of my shop soon, or not? I have a defrag and some subroutines I want to run."

"Told you I was almost ready." He clapped a hand down on the much taller Qivan's shoulder. "Alright, kid, just gonna let you know ahead of time that you might die on this. Not gonna say you absolutely will, but just know it was for something bigger than yourself. Just letting you know it's for a reason, alright?"

Qivan's voice rose an octave, but didn't climb in volume. "What?" He tried to turn, but Kor kept him firmly in place as he drew the big, pistol-sized shotgun. "Uncle? You's fucking with me, yeah? What you saying? You's going to just go out there and, I dunno, action vid it up! Yeah?"

Kor checked the fire rate selection, smiled grimly at Laren Qivan's back. "Not exactly, no. I'm going to use you as a shield. Don't want the Blues pissed at me, now do I?"

Qivan's reaction was exactly the one Kor had been looking for, and now the old soldier could feel the kid vibrating in calm terror through every inch of his body. It was almost soothing, like when Kor would lay in his bunk and place his hand along the metallic interior hull of the transport ship, feel the roar of the engines as they corrected the vessel's orbital attitude. It was a feeling of knowing inside your bone and tissue that a plan was coming together.

"Tisbel," said Kor, "open the door. Let's see how many bullets Driver can stop."

The shop owner must have been stunned into silence, because it took her a couple seconds to respond. "Wait, are you serious? Don't you even want to know who these people are? Who you're dealing with?"

"What's to know? They want Driver, here." He tightened his grip on the kid's shoulder. "Figure I can use him as a distraction to get out and away."

Laren Qivan didn't say anything, just continued to tremble and vibrate with silent fear. Yes, his response was perfect. 

"Now, I said to open the door, Tisbel." Kor's voice had an edge to it that wasn't there before. "Or did you forget that you don't guarantee anyone's safety?"

Tisbel sighed. The Menelaun wasn't sure how she was able to put that much feeling of resignation into that one nonverbal sound, but it was there. But, at the end of the day, he knew she was a business woman. Like everyone else on this forsaken planet, she'd act in her own self interest. Like everyone else on this forsaken planet, Tisbel would turn a blind eye.

He almost felt bad for the merchant, and for the kid he was about to force it into the hall ahead of him. Almost. There was a job to do, so he forced the emotion down and decided he would worry about it later. "Thanks for the business," said Kor as he shoved Qivan toward the door, and the waiting gang members outside. "Be seeing you soon."

Tisbel sighed again, and he knew she was suddenly worried she'd made a deal with the devil. But, devil or no, she still answered Kor's demand. Because that's the thing about the devil. You can try to break your contract with him, but he always has a way to enforce the stipulations.

The door slid open with a hiss. Driver locked his knees and went stiff as a board. Out in the hall, conversations stopped, boots began shuffling and running to meet them.

"Alright," Kor called as he placed the shotgun's barrel against the back of Laren Qivan's head. "I have Driver and I know you want him, too. So help me, I'll let the great crunch take him before you. Whatever you need him for can wait till I'm done."

Three gangbangers, or whatever passed for ones on Varis, were just beyond the door. Framed perfectly, as if an old 2D, the look of surprise on their faces matched Kor's expectation.

Kor didn't snarl, or smile, or change his facial expression from the blank slate he'd carved into his granite features. "Move," he said, pushing the kid forward.

Driver moved like an appalloo trying to take its rein, pulling at Kor's constraining hand on his shoulder. As he did, he attempted to bend himself and put distance between the back of his head and Kor's compact shotgun's composite barrel. Contorting himself as he half-ran, was half shoved out into the hall, Driver raised his trembling hands up and opened them for all to see.

Kor kept the shotgun barrel planted to the back of Driver's cranium. Holding back his grimace, he followed the terrified kid, pulled him to a halt just outside Tisbel's shop as he looked around.

A dozen gangers. At least. 

"I have high explosive rounds loaded. Let us pass or what's left of Driver will be sprayed across the inside of this hallway."

"What, man? You serious?" Kor recognized the leader from earlier as he pushes his way to the front of the crowd, his voice rising above the chorus. "The 'zerks, man! You won't do it!" He looked to the rest of his soldiers. "He won't do it!"

Kor didn't hesitate. "New here. No clue who these 'zerks are." He shifted the shotgun. "Cover your ears, kid."

The kid immediately slapped hands over his ears, and the leader's eyes went wide.

Kor pointed the shotgun over Driver's shoulder, at where wall met ceiling. He'd loaded only one HE. The rest were flechette.

The explosion was deafening in the hallway's tight confines and thugs scrambled for cover from the wall shrapnel.

Kor calculated his chances of killing them with the next few shots. High. Had to be careful, then.  He spun Qivan left and began to advance, fired low into the crowd.

Aerodynamic razors sprayed from the barrel, ripped through knees and calves and feet. Gangers screamed and bled, fell before Kor and Laren Qivan like scythed sheaths of wheat.

#

Continue with Part Eight

Previous Entries:

Kor Part One

Kor Part Two

Kor Part Three

Kor Part Four

Kor Part Five

Kor Part Six

#

That's it for this week! Like I said in the last post, I'll be updating these on a weekly basis, posted on Friday until I'm finished with the novel. If you enjoyed it, leave a comment.

I've been kicking around the idea of posting errata and more in depth worldbuilding information here, but I'm torn. I try to keep that information like an iceberg, where the reader only sees 10% of what's going on, while 90% hides beneath the surface. Besides, it ends up entering spoilery territory if I start to spoon feed you guys information on the side, rather than letting it all stay as background information you can infer from the text.