“You three sit at ground zero of one of the most remarkable ventures in the modern history of Azteca. We will defy conventions and set rules that others will follow. Yes, there will be deaths. It can’t be helped. But business does not grow without fits and starts. Of course, we’ll have time to discuss the plan in much greater detail. All Ilan and I need tonight is your binding commitment.”

  If one wishes to silence a crowd, ask them to promise absolute fealty to leaders who might get them killed. Most will come around, but everyone needs a moment. They wait for the first idiot to open his chops.

  “You already know I believe in you,” Ship said. “But this is more than we talked about. It’s so much to ask, Raul.”

  “It is. In return, I want to demonstrate my commitment to you.”

  I motioned to Moon, who had done a marvelous job of not saying shit the entire meal. He reached for a long, narrow case on the table behind him. He handed it to Ship.

  “Open, my friend. See a promise fulfilled.”

  He flipped the latch. Ship gasped at the midnight black arm sealed inside a pressurized, translucent cylinder.

  “Is this …?”

  “I can install it tomorrow. The synthetic neural transition circuits will require a day or two to integrate with your body. Within a week, the arm will feel like it’s been there since birth.”

  The kid’s eyes watered. His teeth chattered. Time for a good sob.

  “Tomorrow?” Lumen was incredulous. What a shock. “Installing an arm requires a surgical unit. You can’t possibly have …”

  “On Bart. Yes. We have many special devices on Bart. Customized over the years. Perhaps you’d also enjoy a tour.”

  “I don’t believe it. I …”

  “What we can do for Ship, we can do for Vash. I told you his health was on my agenda. We can run tests on his legs and injured hand to determine whether they can be saved. If not, we’ll construct synthetic replacements. He’ll be good to go in two days.”

  “So, on top of all your other skills, you’re also surgeons.”

  I enjoyed her snark and grinned along with Moon. This was neither the time nor place to explain the wonders of syneth.

  “After a fashion, Lumen. Bottom line: We can repair Vash. He can remain in town and contribute to the defense, or return to his family. All we’ll ask of you is a binding commitment.”

  Ship spoke for her.

  “Lumen, they’re not what you think. They’re better. Trust them.”

  “How do you know about …?”

  “Silence, please.”

  I reached into my jacket and retrieved a vial. I set it down between me and Elian.

  “When you told me of your condition, it rang a few bells. I researched myostemic plastosis. As it turns out, a cure has existed for quite some time. It’s very expensive and, curiously, has not been disseminated to the public. Yet I was able to acquire four doses.”

  “A c-cure?”

  “Indeed. Ripthenol. One dose a day for four days. Within a week, it will restore the neuro-imbalance that causes your condition. The effect is permanent.”

  Elian cupped his hands over his mouth, staring at the vial.

  “But … I researched it for years. Why didn’t I read about it?”

  Time for another healthy mistruth.

  “It was created by the Chancellors as a mind-conditioning tool. Very toxic. It was banned, even after a modified version proved successful in solving many neurological issues. As I said before, Elian, I’m well-traveled. I have many contacts. This vial will assure you of achieving the dream of your lifetime. As with Ship and Lumen, all I’ll need is your binding commitment. You’ll take your first dose tomorrow.”

  I always enjoyed making a grown man cry.

  “Yes, please.” He reached for the vial, but I was faster.

  “You’ll be our lieutenant, scale production of Motif, and lead recruitment of our defense forces?”

  “I’m yours, Raul. And you, Ilan. Say the word. I’m yours.”

  “Very good. Ship?”

  “You have to ask? I’m with you all the way.”

  “Perfect. Lumen?”

  This woman squelched any evidence of tears.

  “I sensed you were a grifter the first time you sauntered in here. Every ounce of me still says you are.”

  “But?”

  “My son needs help. You won’t allow him to leave if I refuse to go along with this insanity.”

  “Correct. I’ll see to it he receives the best treatment if you commit to being our equal partner.”

  “Otherwise?”

  I shrugged. “Well, he did intend to murder us.”

  “You made many promises tonight, Raul. If you fail to uphold even one, I’ll find a way to kill you. By my hand, or someone else.”

  “Until then, I have your binding commitment?”

  She mumbled, “Yes.”

  “Glorious.” I held up my wine glass and offered a toast. “To fun, profit, and promises kept.”

  The gentlemen clinked glasses. Lumen did not.

  I set aside other findings about her life to expedite the evening, but I wasn’t through with Lumen. There was still the matter of Ship’s “accident” and Vash’s father. We’d have to explore both someday.

  No need to pile on every piece of leverage at once.

  “What do you think, Ilan? We good?”

  He said his only words of the dinner party.

  “Yeah, Raul. We good.”

  23

  F OLKS WHO LIVE IN BUNKERS tend to lack social skills, a fact made all too clear when I organized a town-wide street festival to celebrate the new regime. Oh, sure, these outcasts, exiles, and neurotic misfits often popped into the cantina for a quiet drink and a meal. But a full-fledged festival? Where people showed off their wares, ate good food, and talked to each other like they gave a shit? Now, that was a beast of another shade!

  Fortunately, I had money on my side. In addition to a finely tuned propaganda campaign for the event which I called “Asses out of Holes,” I made an offer they couldn’t resist. In my new capacity as financial administrator, I analyzed Lumen’s scheduled tribute to the Horax, divided it equally by all contractors, and promised to deposit a lovely five hundred and ninety UCVs into every account.

  If they participated in the street festival.

  Naturally, I sweetened the pot with the promise of financial bonuses for the best displays plus awards in all sorts of subcategories, including food, hydrogarden projects, arts and crafts, and biotech implants. I found volunteers to string glow lights along the central avenue, set up tables and chairs, and register each Desperidan upon arrival.

  Ship and Elian talked up the town defense force and promised tours of Bart to everyone who joined our little militia. They set up a booth outside my Ladybug sedan with tablets to register volunteers. Elian conducted the tours; he loved yakking about the vehicle’s technical features. (Side note: When he realized Bart did in fact have its own worm drive, I swore Elian to secrecy. The town didn’t need to know we could jump away from Azteca at the first sign of trouble.)

  Lumen handled refreshments in the usual way – from behind the cantina bar. I told her to run the business per usual. Send every dime of profit to the Children of Orpheus if she pleased; I didn’t give a damn. But I had last word on the town’s primary account. Neither manifest for the next resupply tumbler – the legal or illegal version – went final without my OK.

  One might wonder why a criminal genius and mass murderer for hire would burden himself with ledgers. Tell the truth, I was the furthest thing from an accountant, but until such time as I trusted my new partner – potentially never – I had to make damn sure the numbers added up to my satisfaction.

  By one count, the festival proved a smashing success. Specifically, all but nineteen attended. I’d have to deal with those few corrigibles at some point and determine whether they met the new Desperido standard.

  However, high attendance did not equate to high engagement. Imagine attending a dance where seven out of ten folks were wallflowers. They’d stand off to the side drinking a beverage and wonder when the hell their torture would end.

  Yeah, it was like that. My own fault, I reckon. After all, these people did live in holes in the ground. By choice.

  So tonight proved a valuable first step toward my ultimate goal: Uniting these people into a reasonably cohesive community. If they didn’t invest in each other, the town might be headed for a shitload of trouble in the coming storms.

  The setting couldn’t have been more lovely when central avenue started to teem with life. The last vestige of sunset cast a wide orange blanket across the flat western terrain. If I was a poet, my creative juices might have flowed.

  I schmoozed while Moon walked the northern perimeter, quietly smoking a cigar and waiting for a special transport we expected within the hour. The townsfolk rarely asked about my partner; he didn’t give off a good-humored vibe. Even a few hours that day with care workers failed to sand his rough edges.

  Eh. Town ambassador did not suit him well.

  I pushed through the crowd and made my way to Bart, where the interest was tame. Elian led a pair of new recruits on a tour while Ship sat alone at the signup table.

  “What’s the tally, my friend?”

  The kid beamed. “Thirty-two, boss. I think we’re running ahead of the game.”’

  “Not bad at all. We thought fifty was pie in the sky.”

  “If we can keep people out here another few hours, I’m sure we’ll snag eighteen more.”

  “How are the demographics trending?”

  He twisted into a sheepish smile.

  “Remind me again about demographics.”

  “Men, women, old, young.”

  “Shit. I forgot. Two-thirds men. Most are in their thirties or forties. One in his twenties. Desperido don’t have a young population.”

  “No, it does not. Any graybeards? Out of shape? Low and slow?”

  Ship tucked his arms behind his head and broke into a giggle.

  “They all got four limbs, and their bellies ain’t hanging over.”

  “That’s a start. Speaking of, how’s the arm?”

  He held the pose.

  “A miracle. It’s been four days, and there are times I don’t even have to think about making it work. I got so accustomed to using my right for practically everything that the left feels like a bonus.”

  “Doing your lifts on schedule?”

  “Yes, sir. Every hour.”

  “Excellent. Those muscles need time to build. You won’t be whole until the left is on par with the right.”

  “How long you reckon it’ll take?”

  “Eh. Might be weeks, even months. But you have a unique opportunity. We’ll start weapons training tomorrow. I want you to draw and fire a pistol with both hands at equal efficiency.”

  Ship pumped his fists.

  “Yes! I can’t wait.”

  “Our support system should be arriving any minute.”

  “I hope they don’t think too poorly of us newbies.”

  “Yeah, no. I wouldn’t worry about those guys. They know the score. And if they don’t, Vash will set them straight.”

  Or so I hoped. Needless to say, my relations with the man I shot were uneven at best. We saved his leg, but he wouldn’t be running on it for another week or two. The bigger concern was his left hand. So far, he resisted our efforts to replace it despite Ship’s remarkable transformation.

  Vash resisted many things, except his mother. She convinced him to toe the line. How long he’d play along was an open question. I sometimes wondered if he was waiting for a moment when my back was turned. All he needed was one clean shot.

  Or so he assumed.

  I drank whiskey from a flask while I entertained Ship. I heard Elian chatting up the recruits inside Bart, hurling the technojargon at rapid fire.

  “Tell me, kid. Are you and Elian bonding?”

  “Yes, boss. We’re becoming good friends. We don’t have much in common, but he’s like a big brother. He don’t treat me like a boy.”

  “Damn well hope not. Like Ilan and I told you both last night, you’ll have to kill people. Our profession is cold and hard. We don’t make compromises. We make our enemies dead.”

  That wiped the grin off his face, but Ship responded with the stern jowls of a young man who saw a new life for himself.

  “Whatever you need, boss. Give the order.”

  “That’s the attitude, my friend.”

  “Elian feels the same way.”

  “Good. He took his last dose today. Yes?”

  “He did, boss. He can’t wait until the brain scan next week.”

  “Perfect.” I glanced over my shoulder. “I see a pair of fine young men looking this direction. I’ll clear out. Call them over, Ship. Sell them on the defense force.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  My lieutenants belonged to me heart and soul. They’d follow my ass into fire, but would our new recruits? Were they simply enthralled by the notion of walking around with a pistol in their holster? Was the rest of the town content with more credits in their bank account?

  Folks called me many things in my long and colorful existence, but nobody accused me of being a dumbass (outside of Theo, and he didn’t count). Creating a criminal culture with a shared commitment to sacrifice involved an uphill struggle.

  Culture. Long form for cult.

  Yeah, no. I’d seen enough of that shit. People either followed my plan or they walked into the desert to die.

  Moon’s voice echoed in my ear bead.

  “They’re almost here, partner.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  I saw the headlights as I approached the northern edge of town. Moon stood next to Vash, who leaned on his cane.

  “This should be interesting,” I said. “Talk to me, Vash. These fellas good at what they do?”

  He grumbled, much like his mother.

  “They’ll do the job.”

  “Lumen called in the A-team, or so she claimed. High bar to jump, my friend.”

  “I’m not your friend, Raul. Expect no better from them.”

  “Understood. I don’t wish to make friends. They’re soldiers. I expect them to follow orders and help train the militia. Oh, and I trust you’ll make it clear Ilan and I are not to be tested.”

  Even in the dim light, I felt his eyes piercing me like foot-long daggers. Apparently, my efforts to save his life after he attempted to kill me did not make an impression. What in hell was the world coming to?

  “Answer one question, Raul.”

  “Go.”

  “My team. Where are their bodies?”

  “Gone.”

  “Where did you bury them?”

  “We didn’t. But there’s nothing left to find.”

  He replied through clenched feet.

  “Two had families.”

  “Apologies, Vash. Occupational hazard.” As the tumbler entered town and its headlines bore down on us, I added, “Since you and this incoming group are now allies, I’d like to think other families won’t suffer a similar loss.”

  The six-wheel tumbler, a hardy vehicle designed for rough terrains and police activities, rolled to a stop and kicked up dust.

  “They’re all yours,” I told Vash.

  Before he moved forward, Vash leaned into me.

  “Just so we’re clear, Raul. Break our deal, and we’ll slaughter these people. You won’t have the element of surprise next time.”

  “Gotcha,” I said with a smile.

  Several dozen townsfolk moved toward the vehicle. I whispered to Moon:

  “Let’s keep those folks from making the wrong impression. Establish a safe zone.”

  “On it, partner.”

  Moon ordered the gawkers to halt.

  “Close enough, people.”

  Moon raised a pistol over his head in case anyone didn’t understand. No one challenged his authority.

  Eight men and women in civilian clothes leaped from the tumbler bearing backpacks and shoulder-slung rifles. Vash shook every hand and knew them by name.

  I’ll be damned. The assassin corps for the Children of Orpheus was a tight-knit group. I’d have to keep a close eye on this lot.

  Vash led them to me. They gathered around, faces captured by the headlights. Five men, three women. I reckoned from age twenty to fifty. Athletic builds, confident stance, tight haircuts, no facial hair.

  Except for the neck tattoo, they could’ve passed for military.

  I had much more to learn about this cult.

  “Welcome to the strangest town in the world,” I told them. “My name is Raul Torreta, and along with my partner, Ilan Natchez, and your associates Lumen and her son Vash, we’re about to create a better future. Not just for this town, but for the Children of Orpheus. Your primary job is to lead the defense against enemies who will arrive at our doorstep in approximately one week.

  “Hear me on this point: You’re now part of the community. That means you need to learn about the folks you’re here to protect, and they’ll welcome you in return. As you see, we have a festival ongoing, timed specifically to your arrival.” Coincidence, actually, but it sounded nice. “If you’d like to circulate or visit the cantina for some evening intoxicants, please do so.

  “We’ve arranged for your housing in town. Vash can show you the accommodations. I also understand the tumbler provides sleeping quarters. I’ll leave the decision up to you. We’ll lay out a detailed plan of operations in the morning. Questions?”

  Not. One. Peep.

  Perfect.

  “Very good. Vash, they’re all yours. Ilan and I will be roaming the festival if you have any concerns.”

  I didn’t blame these assholes for their silence. They might as well have landed on another planet. Their culture shock was bound to increase when they got a good dose of the locals.

  We left Vash to his own devices, but he knew the rules (enforced by his mother): No mention of what happened to his team. He was injured during a mission in another region.

  “I don’t trust him,” Moon said as we walked to the eastern edge of town, separating us from the crowds. “He’s dangerous.”

  “Of course, my friend. He’s like us. I’d rather have him close. Better to keep an eye on his activities.”