“Then if Drake’s the only target, you’ll help?” Sally snorted and shook her head negatively. “Listen good, my fledgling magic man. I’ll help you find your path. I’ll get you settled in our little half-world.” She smiled invitingly. “I’ll even help you forget this mess, if you think you can handle the stress.”
Sam frowned. “That’s not the kind of help I want.”
“It’s what you need,” she said, at once serious and teasing.
“I want you to help me get Drake.” Sam insisted.
“Verner, you’re on the streets now. A body has to be practical. You want to run the shadows with us, I’ll give you a chance. You’ve shown some possibilities. Interesting possibilities. But if you run with me, you’ve got to keep the most important principle in mind. Nothing for nothing. Your proposal offers no profit.”
“Sally’s right, Suitboy. Ain’t no nuyen in dis. You wasting our time.” The Ork stood abruptly and his chair clattered as it toppled. He started for the door. “Got more profitable ways ta spend my time.”
“Kham,” Sam called. The Ork ignored him, opened the door, and walked out into the darkness of the hall.
“He’s free to make his own choices,” Sally said softly, her words almost drowned out by the sound of Kham’s steps descending the rickety stair. “Make your own choices, Vernor. I can show you a wiz time tonight.”
Sam felt Dodger stiffen at his side and glanced over to see the Elf watching Ghost. The Indian’s face was calm and still. Whatever was going on, he’d talk to Dodger about it later. Sam wanted Sally’s help, because the magic that he didn’t know how to handle was second nature to her. Her skills might be just the edge he needed to get Drake. If he went with her tonight, perhaps he could convince her. He tried to keep his voice casual. “Sounds interesting.”
Sally beamed. “Wiz. Corner of Harrison and Melrose at nine. Be armed and ready to party.” She bounced from her chair in a swirl of fringed leather and danced out the door Kham had left open. “Scan you later, magic man.”
Sam was left with Dodger and Ghost. He already knew me Elf was committed, and Ghost had said earlier that he was in. Sam wasn’t sure that the three of them would be enough.”
“Ghost, do you think I can persuade her to help?”
“She has her own mind, paleface.”
The room felt cold, chilled by an undertone in Ghost’s voice. The Indian seemed disturbed, but something in his face told Sam not to ask questions. He decided to stick to business, hoping that the chill would thaw in the heat of discussing the problems they faced. It had worked with Hanae. “Dodger, have you found out anything more about Drake?”
“Verily, he is a true mystery man. I have uncovered enough to know that he is no more a real person than any Mr. Johnson who offers one a corporate handout. His true name and nature remain shrouded, but I have learned that he uses the first name of Jarlath.”
“What kind of name is that?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know,” Dodger admitted.
Ghost walked to the boarded-up window. Intrusive beams from the flashing neon snaked like warpaint over his features. “And you are sure that Hart and the serpent work for him?”
“They said so.”
“I heard they were involved in stopping a run against United Oil’s dockyard.”
Sam was pleased. “Then maybe that’s a place to start. If those two were there, maybe it means that Drake works for United Oil.”
42
The sodium vapor lamps on the buildings cast a harsh flat light. Trapped in their glare, various big and small objects sent their shadows stretching deep into the surrounding night. Light and dark made two separate worlds.
Sam crouched in the darkness, staring with trepidation at the pools of light. Once he had lived in the other world where light represented safety. How many times had he shaken his head dolefully at the predations of the terrorists and criminals who disrupted safe, corporate life. Now he was a part of the other world, the land of shadows that survived on corporate leavings or what could be taken from the corporations’ arrogant waste. Once he had been secure in his armor of scientific rationality, believing that if magic were not a sham, some obscure physical or biological principle could explain it away. Now others were telling him that be was a magician, just as did his own weird experiences. The notion still frightened him, but seemed to beckon and fascinate as well.
The allure and alarm of magic were akin to what he felt toward Sally. Last night she had shown him uses of magic he could never have imagined, and his heart raced at the sudden memory. Sally was unlike any woman he had ever known. She was as beautiful, vibrant, and exciting as she was terrifying.
What had he gotten into?
The United Oil dockyard, a part of his mind reminded him sardonically. Here, in the shadow of one of the many squat mushroom shapes that made up the tank farm. Now, waiting for Ghost Who Walks inside to return from his reconnaissance. Everything was quiet and had been ever since they’d crossed the perimeter fence. Sam didn’t know whether to be relieved at fully passing the outer security or worried that United Oil’s security teams lay in wait for them, laughing at the foolish confidence of the intruders.
Dodger had been certain he had nullified the perimeter security. It was easy, he said when he gave them the go-ahead over a telecom on the street outside. He sounded so confident, which was all well and good for him. He was not going inside physically with Sam and Ghost.
Once inside the job got tougher. United Oil’s site security strategy did not emphasize an impenetrable perimeter. Instead, it concentrated security assets in the buildings themselves. Each structure had its own level of countermeasures, the extent and complexity varying according to the value of the contents of the structure and the ease with which an intruder might affect or remove those contents. Dodger was expecting difficulties in slipping past the Intrusion Countermeasures of the target building. They were counting on him to take control of the alarms, but they wouldn’t know if he had succeeded until the moment they tried to enter the building. They had been unable to agree on a form of signal that would not alert United Oil security. Once inside the building, they could communicate relatively safely through the site’s computer system. But by then, Ghost and Sam would have set off any still functional alarms as they crossed the building’s security barrier.
Sam knew that Dodger was good at this sort of thing, but he couldn’t relax. He wiped his sweaty palms against the rough fabric of his dark coveralls.
The target building stood on the other side of the vehicle park, its face no different from the other warehouses in the row. With its weathered brick, dirty glass, and rusted window screening, the only distinguishing features were the faded numerals of its building number. No sign proclaimed it as the security field office.
They expected its physical security measures to be light, but the plans they got from Cog showed an alarm at every entrance but one. That door could be opened freely at any time of day or night without sounding an alarm. The door was the connector between a fenced enclosure running the length of the building’s southern side and a series of pens inside the building’s walls. Those pens were the nests for he company’s cockatrices, terrifying paranimals that could calcify flesh with a touch.