Dying… .
Not dying yet… .
The Envoy conditioning, worrying at something not over, not resolved.
The Ground is for Dead People. I saw Schneider’s illuminum tattoo like a beacon floating behind my eyes. His face, twisted unrecognisable with the pain of his injuries.
Dead people?
‘Kovacs?’ It was Deprez, standing in the hatch behind me. ‘Hand wants us all back on the platform. We’re taking food. You coming?’
‘I’ll catch you up.’
He nodded and dropped back to the floor outside. I heard voices and tried to blank them out.
Dying?
The Ground is
Motes of light circling like a datacoil display
The gate…
The gate, seen through the viewports of the Nagini’s cockpit…
The cockpit…
I shook my head irritably. Envoy intuition is an unreliable system at the best of times, and sinking fast from the weight of radiation poisoning isn’t a great state to be in when you try to deploy it.
Not dying yet.
I gave up on trying to see the pattern and let the vagueness wash over me, seeing where it would take me.
The violet light of the corpse locker, beckoning.
The discarded sleeves within.
Semetaire.
By the time I got back to the platform, dinner was nearly over. Beneath the mummified hovering of the two Martians, the rest of the company were sitting around the stripped-down buoy on inflatable loungers, picking without much enthusiasm at the remains of tab-pull field ration pans. I couldn’t really blame them – the way I was feeling, just the smell of the stuff made my throat close up. I choked a little on it, then hastily raised my hands as the sound brought a ripple of weapon-grabbing from the diners.
‘Hey, it’s me.’
Grumbling and guns discarded again. I made my way into the circle, looking for a seat. It was a lounger each, give or take. Jiang Jianping and Schneider had both seated themselves on the floor, Jiang cross-legged in a clear deck space, Schneider sprawled in front of Tanya Wardani’s lounger with a proprietorial air that made my mouth twitch. I waved an offered pan away and seated myself on the edge of Vongsavath’s lounger, wishing I felt a bit more up to this.
‘What kept you?’ asked Deprez.
‘Been thinking.’
Schneider laughed. ‘Man, that shit’s bad for you. Don’t do it. Here.’ He rolled a can of amphetamine cola across the deck towards me. I stopped it with one boot. ‘Remember what you told me back in the hospital? Don’t fucking think, soldier – didn’t you read your terms of enlistment?’
It raised a couple of half-hearted smiles. I nodded.
‘When’s he get here, Jan?’
‘Huh?’
‘I said,’ I kicked the can back at him. His hand jumped out and snagged it, very fast. ‘When’s he get here?’
What conversation there was dropped out of the air like Konrad Harlan’s one and only attempted gunship raid on Millsport. Particle-blasted down by the rattle of the can and the sudden silence that found it in Schneider’s closed fist.
His right fist. His empty left was a little too slow, whipping out for a weapon fractions of a second after I had the Kalashnikov levelled on him. He saw, and froze up.
‘Don’t,’ I told him.
At my side, I felt Vongsavath, still moving for the stunner in her pocket. I laid my free hand on her arm and shook my head slightly. Put some Envoy persuasion into my voice.
‘No need, Ameli.’
Her arm dropped back to her lap. Peripheral scan told me everyone else was sitting this one out so far. Even Wardani. I eased slightly.
‘When does he get here, Jan?’
‘Kovacs, I don’t know what the fuck—’
‘Yeah, you do. When’s he get here? Or don’t you want both hands any more?’
‘Who?’
‘Carrera. When’s he fucking get here, Jan. Last chance.’
‘I don’t—’ Schneider’s voice shrilled to an abrupt scream as the interface gun blew a hole through his hand and turned the can he was still holding into shredded metal. Blood and amphetamine cola splashed the air, curiously alike in colour. Flecks of it spotted Tanya Wardani’s face and she flinched violently.
It’s not a popularity contest.
‘What’s the matter, Jan?’ I asked gently. ‘That sleeve Carrera gave you not so hot on endorphin response?’
Wardani was on her feet, face unwiped. ‘Kovacs, he’s—’
‘Don’t tell me it’s the same sleeve, Tanya. You fucked him, now and two years ago. You know.’
She shook her head numbly. ‘The tattoo…’ she whispered.
‘The tattoo is new. Shiny new, even for illuminum. He got it redone, along with some basic cosmetic surgery as part of the package. Isn’t that right, Jan?’
The only thing that came out of Schneider was an agonised groaning. He held his shattered hand at arm’s length, staring at it in disbelief. Blood dripped on the deck.
All I felt was tired.
‘I figure you sold out to Carrera rather than go into virtual interrogation,’ I said, still scanning peripherally for reactions among the crowd. ‘Don’t blame you really. And if they offered you a fresh combat sleeve, full rad/chem resist specs and custom trimmed, well there aren’t many deals like that kicking about Sanction IV these days. And no telling how much dirty bombing both sides are going to do from now on in. Yeah, I’d have taken a deal like that.’
‘Do you have any evidence of this?’ asked Hand.
‘Apart from the fact he’s the only one of us still not going grey, you mean? Look at him, Hand. He’s held up better than the Maori sleeves, and they’re built for this shit.’
‘I would not call that proof,’ said Deprez thoughtfully. ‘Though it is odd.’
‘He’s fucking lying,’ gritted Schneider through his teeth. ‘If anyone’s running double for Carrera, it’s Kovacs. For Samedi’s sake, he’s a Wedge lieutenant.’
‘Don’t push your luck, Jan.’
Schneider glared back at me, keening his pain. Across the platform, I thought I heard the songspires pick it up.
‘Get me a fucking mediwrap,’ he pleaded. ‘Someone.’
Sun reached for her pack. I shook my head.
‘No. First he tells us how long we’ve got before Carrera comes through the gate. We need to be ready.’
Deprez shrugged. ‘Knowing this, are we not already ready?’
‘Not for the Wedge.’
Wardani crossed wordlessly to where Sun stood and snatched the medipack from its fibregrip holster on the other woman’s chest. ‘Give me that. If you uniformed fucks won’t do it, I will.’
She knelt at Schneider’s side and opened the pack, spilling the entire contents across the floor as she searched for the wraps.
‘The green tabbed envelopes,’ said Sun helplessly. ‘There.’
‘Thank you,’ gritted. She spared me a single glance. ‘What are you going to do now, Kovacs? Cripple me too?’
‘He would have sold us all out, Tanya. He has already.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I know he somehow managed to survive two weeks aboard a restricted access hospital without any legitimate documentation. I know he managed to get into the officers’ wards without a pass.’