I fired the first grenade. Its velocity took it through the bunks to the rock wall and the fragmentation grenade exploded. Wreckage rained down on Cat and I as the force of the explosion blew the wolf cyborg across the street and into the opposite wall. It bounced off the rock and landed in the street ahead of us.
It tried to get up. I was angry now. Why had they done this? Why were they forcing us to kill friends? This was exactly what I had never wanted to do. These were good people — I mean they were all borderline psychos, but they were good people. Actually there was nothing borderline about them. I fired a second grenade. The flechettes tore into it, most of the needles sparking off now severely compromised armour. It tumbled back into the sand. It was still moving. I fired the third grenade from the hip. The cross hairs on my smartlink told me where it was going to hit. The thirty-millimetre, high-explosive, armour-piercing grenade went through its chest cavity and exploded. I was too close. The force of the explosion knocked me on my arse, battered my teeth together and a bit of Vucari shrapnel tore the side of my head open and almost took my ear off.
Cat came to stand by where I was sitting on a Belt zombie’s corpse. She was looking all around.
‘You getting up?’ she asked.
Cat and I stepped back into the brothel. Mudge was leaning on the bar. He had the M-19 in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. It looked like something had hit him hard enough in the side of the head to stove in part of his subcutaneous armour and he had a ragged tear in his chest.
‘ Na zdorovye,’ he said bitterly.
He took a long swig from the bottle, winced and then spat out a tooth. I glanced over at the Vucari I’d killed. I remembered her name now. It was Andrea. When we’d taken them to get drunk after they’d saved our arses she’d swapped oral sex jokes with Bibs. These people had gone toe to toe with Them when nearly out of ammunition to save us and this was the thanks they got. Why the fuck had they done this?
I’d almost forgotten Pagan. I glanced up at the thinscreen. The wolf-demon was still. It seemed suspended from a tree of thorns that had grown through its flesh. I caught a momentary glimpse of Pagan’s icon on the screen, which looked ragged and half torn apart. I briefly wondered why they had to make the virtual damage look so gory in their fake world. Pagan’s icon disappeared. Tendrils covered in black fire swamped the place where he’d been. The white glow that I’d come to connect with God seemed to recede and disappear.
‘Jesus, that hurts. When’d I get shot?’ Pagan asked. Pain filled his voice. Real Pagan didn’t look much better than virtual Pagan. He was lying on the ground. Railgun fire had destroyed his chair. He was lucky it hadn’t torn him apart. There was blood all down his chin and beard from where it had drooled out his mouth and nose. Blood was also running out of his ears. I knew that you had to take a serious amount of biofeedback for that to happen. Then he had the bullet wounds on top of that.
‘Has Demiurge taken the station?’ I asked. My voice sounded dead even to me. As if I didn’t care. I glanced over at Morag. She was still unconscious.
Pagan shook his head. ‘Not yet, but it will,’ he said and then started speaking rapidly in Japanese to the Yakuza. The surgical clones looked to their boss. He hesitated as long as face dictated and then nodded. The gunmen went running from the brothel.
‘You speak Japanese?’ Pagan ignored my stupid question. Later he would tell me that he’d worked extensively with the Japanese Special Forces Group on Barney’s. ‘Where’s it getting all its processing power and memory from?’
Pagan turned to look up at me. He look tired and in pain.
‘Good question. They came on a long-range strike craft. There’s only so much Demiurge that could fit into the systems of a craft like that. God here in the camp should have easily outbid it in terms of power. As soon as it kicked in all the docked ships switched off their net links to the station. All the in-system ships will be carrying God. If they add their memory and processing power then we should be able to beat Demiurge.’
‘“Should”?’ He shrugged. ‘Won’t most of them have left as soon as they realised something was wrong?’
‘Several tried. One of the first things Demiurge went for was the camp’s external weaponry. Two tramp freighters and a factory ship were blown apart.’
I tried, I really tried, but this news did nothing except make me feel increasingly numb.
‘Those ships’ captains have got a lot to lose if they switch on their comms and Demiurge wins.’
‘That’s why Itaki’s people -’ he nodded towards the Yakuza boss, who was standing in the middle of the carnage trying to make sense of it ‘- will be doing the persuading, at gunpoint if necessary.’
‘Is there anything we can do?’ I asked.
He started to shake his head but winced at the pain.
‘No. I can’t fight that thing and neither can Morag.’ Then there was a look of momentary panic. ‘Where’s Morag?’ I pointed at where she was lying on the ground among the metal kindling that had once been a makeshift barricade.
‘She all right?’ he asked.
Not really, but I nodded.
Cat joined us. She had succeeded in removing the railgun harness Andrea had been wearing. The railgun had folded up snug along her back when Andrea had fought like an animal. Cat had linked to it, run diagnostics and was now putting the harness on.
‘What now?’ Cat asked.
‘Back to the ship,’ I said.
‘I know where your brother is,’ Pagan told Cat.
Bollocks. Cat turned to look at me. I sighed and glanced down at Pagan.
‘It’s what we came here for,’ he said.
Mudge joined us, catching the gist of the conversation. ‘Look at all the free stuff we got,’ he said, grinning.
‘Be a shame to come all this way and not get him,’ Pagan said.
‘With their weapons we’re hunting them,’ Cat said.
Pain cut my bitter laugh short.
‘Dream on. These guys lived for fighting Them hand-to-hand. One at a time nearly killed us, and we only got away with it because they seem to have gone fucking mad.’
‘Four down though,’ Cat said.
‘Five,’ Pagan corrected her. ‘There was no way their hacker walked away from that.’
‘He could already be dead,’ I pointed out. Meaning Merle.
‘Scared?’ Mudge asked. He was goading me.
‘Mudge, will you just fuck off,’ I snapped. ‘The adrenalin combat junkie act is wearing a bit fucking thin.’
Mudge looked pissed off and for once didn’t say anything. Still it was a Chinese parliament and I’d been outvoted.
‘Okay, we go and get him,’ I agreed. ‘Mudge, stay here and look after Morag.’
‘What? I piss you off so you go off and play with your soldier mates-’
‘Yes-’ I started.
‘And I get saddled babysitting your ex?’
‘Mudge! Wind your fucking neck in!’ I shouted, finally losing my temper. I don’t think it was Mudge I was angry with. Well not just Mudge. ‘Stay here, look after Morag, and if anything happens to her don’t be around when I get back!’
We stared at each other for a while. The hookers and the Yakuza had turned to see what the commotion was about. Mudge somehow thought better of saying anything and stalked over to where Morag was lying on the ground. I think I’d managed to alienate everyone now.
‘I hope this guy’s worth it,’ I muttered to Cat.
‘He’d best be better than James Bond,’ Pagan said.
‘Who?’ Cat asked. I’d no idea what he was talking about either.
This was bullshit. I did not want to be doing this and we had better things to do, like making sure Morag was okay, if I was honest. Moving deep into the bowels of an asteroid mining camp looking for incredibly dangerous Russian special forces operators was not high on my list of priorities. I respected Cat wanting to help her brother, I really did, and if he was one of ours then it would be right to come and get him. We didn’t know this guy, however, so this wasn’t our problem. Besides, if BPIC took back control of the station we could be right back where we were to begin with. Except the next guy might not want to gloat and be so sloppy with his computer security.