Udo started to jerk up out of his seat. The guard behind him pulled back his weapon and slammed the stock of it into the back of the Freeholder’s head. Udo’s head twisted around under the impact and he slid over to one side, one hand pressing down against the seat.
Severn stood back and nodded in his direction. ‘What’s your friend’s name?’
‘Udo Mansell. And he isn’t a friend. The other one’s Lucas. I reckon he’s harmless.’
Severn stared down at Udo, who was slowly pushing himself back upright, his eyes focused somewhere far beyond Dakota’s hovering presence. ‘Udo, I want you to stay here for now. Me and…’
He looked at Dakota.
‘Mala,’ she replied.
‘Me and Mala are going to have a little talk. Next time you try something, Grigori here will use the end of his gun that shoots bullets.’
Dakota slid out of the alcove, following Severn as he made his way through a door at the far end of the main bar and into an anteroom beyond. She could hear the sound of mogs yelping and of people yelling beyond another door ahead of them, all mixed up with the loud throb of angry, discordant music. This was where the mog pits lay-and where Severn did his real business.
The instant the door had closed behind them, Severn turned and slammed her against a wall.
‘Whatever the fuck this is all about, Dakota, start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.’
‘Nice to see you, Chris. How long’s it been?’
‘Not nearly long enough, judging by that little scene. What in the name of all the stars in the sky made you think you could pick my establishment to start a flicking war in?’
‘I didn’t have a choice. The one called Udo-’
‘I know who he is, Dakota!’ Severn bellowed. The rage seemed to go out of him a little then, and he took a step back, rubbing his face with his hands. When he next spoke, he sounded calmer.
‘If people think they can’t come here and be safe, then every machine-head within a couple of hundred light years has a serious fucking problem. You know that, don’t you? I’ve gone to a lot of time and effort to make sure this is one of the few safe places all of us can go-’
‘I’m in trouble,’ Dakota told him baldly.
‘Aren’t we all.’ Severn nodded. ‘Want to tell me how?’
‘You really don’t want to know’
Severn shook his head. ‘Just as much of a fuck-up as you ever were, then.’
‘Look, I got hired by a bunch of Freeholders. They want me to pilot their ship-that frigate that just docked a few hours ago. They told me it’s a standard system evaluation, but I don’t believe them. They won’t tell me where we’re going, and I know they’re hiding something.’
‘Freeholders?’ Severn stared at her disbelievingly. ‘Freeholders hired a machine-head?’
‘The one who’s been here before, I mean Udo, if it came out he likes mogs, he’s a dead man back on Redstone. I needed to get some leverage on him to find out what they’re really up to.’
‘And so you thought it’d be a really good idea to bring him here, because then he’d crumble and confess everything. So tell me, how’s that little plan working out?’
‘Not so well, because neither of them will talk,’ Dakota admitted. ‘I drink my only real option is to disappear.’
Severn looked at her with pity. ‘You’ve sunk a long way, Dak.’
‘I know.’ She grimaced. ‘You don’t need to tell me.’
‘But you’re still not telling me something.’ He stepped closer to her, almost trapping her against the wall. She put one hand on his chest as if in warning, the blood thrumming in her veins.
He continued: ‘The last I heard you were running illegal shipments in the home system. Now you’re here, trying to ditch the Freehold. Were you there on Bourdain’s Rock when it blew up?’
‘I…’ Dakota felt the blood rise to her face and knew she’d given herself away.
‘Shit.’ Severn stepped back and stared at her like he’d never seen her before. ‘Jesus, Dak, I heard they were out looking for a machine-head. They’re going to kill you, you know that?’
‘I had nothing to do with what happened to Bourdain’s Rock, I swear,’ she said, her voice trembling, ‘but I don’t think Bourdain’s the type that goes for rational argument. The Freehold needed a pilot and for some reason they were desperate enough to use a machine-head. But now I know I’m walking into something bad all over again. I’ve been trying to ignore my instincts, and my instincts tell me they’re up to a lot more than they’re admitting.’
Severn nodded, then glanced off to one side. She could tell from his expression he was receiving a communication.
He raised one hand, palm facing towards her. ‘Wait here,’ he instructed. ‘I need to speak to someone. I’ll be right back, OK?’
‘OK,’ she said miserably.
Severn pushed through the far door leading to the mog pits.
A minute passed, and then another. Then waiting any longer became impossible for Dakota. Her life was at stake here.
She went through the same door to look for Severn. The space beyond was not unlike the bar where they had left Udo and Corso, except that a raised catwalk sliced the room almost in half, and there were more barred cages set into recesses high up on the walls to either side.
Below these were more seating alcoves, full of customers. There were far more mogs evident in this part of the building, and she was mildly shocked to see some being led on leashes along the catwalk by bead zombies. She hadn’t ever thought Severn was the type to use zombies, and wondered just how much he’d changed since the last time she’d encountered him. The sight of those headless monstrosities made her queasy in the pit of her stomach.
The mogs on parade had been trained to walk on their hind legs. Most displayed only a hint of human intelligence in their wide dark eyes set above compact, abbreviated snouts. Harsh spotlights glistened on their polished claws and on the metal studs of their leather collars. Some looked considerably more human than any other mogs Dakota had seen before-which made it all seem so much worse.
Severn’s clientele remained mostly out of plain sight, their faces veiled in shadows within the alcoves they occupied. On the far side of the catwalk various doors led to secure rooms where those same clients could enjoy a few purchased hours with a gene-job-or alternatively go and place a bet in the mog fighting pits beyond.
Then Dakota saw just exactly who Severn was talking to.
Moss.
Dakota stepped back into the shadows, neither of them having yet seen her. They seemed to be arguing, and from the look on Severn’s face she guessed Moss was being threatening in some way.