Silent Order: Axiom Hand Page 9

  Tolox blinked. “Already?”

  Revel looked at March, pushed some hair behind her ear, and then back at Tolox. “I…ah, well, the helicopter didn’t have any identifying marks. But I was able to zoom in and get the serial numbers off some of the parts, and I cross-referenced the history of those parts in the registration database. Those parts were sold to Renarchist Aviation, which assembled the helicopter, and I got into Renarchist Aviation’s sales and tax records. That helicopter was sold to a company that did fishing tours along the ocean, but they went bankrupt ten years ago. All their assets were bought up by a company called Brew Holdings, and the helicopter has been registered to them ever since.”

  “Ah,” said Tolox with satisfaction. “That is exactly what we needed. Thank you, Juliette.”

  Revel nodded, stepped towards the door, and then hesitated. “Uh…is there anything else you need from me, Ms. Tolox?” She glanced at March as she said it. “I…I sent that cylinder to the drug lab, and we should hear back from them soon…”

  “No, that’s all,” said Tolox. She smiled, which made her look less harsh. “Thank you again, Juliette. You’ll find your usual payment in your account, and if I need you again, I’ll let you know.”

  Juliette smiled back, looked at March once more, and then disappeared through the office door.

  Tolox let out a sardonic laugh.

  “What?” said March.

  Tolox raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to sleep with her? I don’t think it would take much work.”

  “We just met,” said March. “And I’m on a mission. That would be an unnecessary complication.”

  “Men always say that,” said Tolox, leaning back in her chair with a cynical smile, “but they never quite seem to mean it.” She gestured at the door. “You figured out why she reacted like that yet?”

  “Enlighten me,” said March. He didn’t like this conversation. It was a distraction from the mission.

  “I’m a little too old for…libidinous urgings, let’s say,” said Tolox, “but I used to be young. A young woman like Juliette, she’s grown up on Rustaril. All she’s ever known are weak men like the Administrators or the Citizens in their electric carts. But then she meets an outworlder in good physical condition who is so obviously…masculine…well, it puts regressive thoughts into her head.”

  “For God’s sake,” said March, though he recognized her point. Quite a few of the female Citizens had been staring at him in Deveraux’s Video Parlor. If the Securitate bothered with a more thorough investigation, he hoped they wouldn’t remember it. “You sound just like Dredger.”

  “Dredger’s a pig,” said Tolox without rancor. “A good operative, true, but if I had any female relatives, I wouldn’t want him within a thousand light years of them.”

  “I am less interested in Ms. Revel’s romantic inclinations,” said March, “and more interested in the significance of Brew Holdings.”

  Tolox blinked in surprise and then nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m afraid I’m devolving into a meddlesome old woman. Anyway, Brew Holdings. As you probably guess, it’s a shell company devoted to money laundering. The owner of the company is Bernard Casimir, and he is another major figure in Rykov City’s organized crime.”

  “What’s his racket?” said March.

  “Liquor smuggling,” said Tolox. “The law mandates that all liquor sold on Rustaril be brewed or otherwise prepared on Rustaril.” Her thin smile returned. “But given the generally poor standards for manufacturing anything here, the liquor produced here is…questionable.”

  “Too weak?” said March.

  “Or it will make you go blind,” said Tolox. “So corrupt Administrators with money and people who manage to hide enough of their money from the Treasury want off-world liquor. Casimir controls all the liquor smuggling in Rykov City and all the other major cities on this continent. He has a club he calls the Renarchist’s Pride, and it serves the best liquor on Rustaril. For an extravagant price, of course. And he and Deveraux are mortal enemies.”

  “I thought that Deveraux was involved in fixing video game tournaments,” said March. “Why would Casimir want to kill him?”

  “Casimir was charging him too much for liquor, or so Deveraux thought,” said Tolox. “Deveraux tried to start his own liquor smuggling channel, and Casimir shut him down hard. Deveraux lost a lot of money, and they’ve been trying to screw each other ever since. Their organizations would probably fight each other in the streets if the Securitate wouldn’t fall on them like a ton of bricks for it.”

  March thought that over. “Then it might not have anything to do with Lorre and the Machinists. Casimir might have hired that Iron Eye to take out his rival.”

  “Yep,” said Tolox. “But you thought the Iron Eye took a shot at Lorre. Sure about that?”

  March considered it for a while.

  “I am,” he said at last. “It was either Lorre or Deveraux.”

  “All right,” said Tolox. “We’ll keep looking into Deveraux’s business, but we’ll also pay a visit to Bernard Casimir.” She smirked. “He knows all my business isn’t above the board, and he owes me a few favors. I’ll need you to come with me.”

  “A bodyguard?” said March.

  “Exactly,” said Tolox. “Can’t repay someone favors if they’re dead. It…”

  A knock came at the door. Tolox switched to the camera feed and saw Juliette Revel again.

  “What is it?” said Tolox.

  “Ms. Tolox?” came Revel’s voice. “The report from the drug lab on that canister came back.”

  “Come on in, then,” said Tolox.

  The door unlocked again, and Revel came back inside. She looked at March, smiled, and handed Tolox a sheet of paper. “Here it is. Whatever was left in that canister, it wasn’t Sugar.”

  “Thank you, Juliette,” said Tolox. “Good work. You’d better head out now. I don’t want you to be missed at work.”

  Revel hesitated, glanced at March again, thanked Tolox, and disappeared through the door again.

  Tolox laughed. “That girl has it for you bad, Captain March. If she’d had time, she'd have gone home and put on makeup and a dress before she came back in here.”

  March sighed. “Can we focus on the business at hand?” It had been a long time since he had been with a woman, but he did not want to bed one of Tolox’s operatives.

  “Very well,” said Tolox. She scanned the printout. “That orange stuff in the canister…it looks like it had traces of Sugar in it, but it was mostly inertial storage fluid.”

  “The kind of stuff,” said March, “used to store inactive nanobots.”

  “Yeah,” said Tolox. “Like if you wanted someone to ingest nanobots that would activate once they entered the victim’s bloodstream.”

  “Then that’s how Reimer became a drone,” said March. “He consumed tainted Sugar. He must have gotten it from Lorre or one of Lorre’s people at the Video Parlor.”

  “The Republic controls Sugar production and distribution,” said Tolox. “I don’t see how Lorre could have managed it.”

  “This is Rustaril,” said March. “Someone was probably bribed.”

  Tolox nodded. “Let’s talk to Casimir first. I’ll make some calls and set up a visit with him.” She got to her feet, and March followed her into the warehouse.

  Dredger sat at the main desk, watching the displays monitoring Tolox Vending’s machinery. One of the displays had switched to an active session of Renarchist Hero, and Dredger held a controller, scowling as he hit the buttons.

  “I thought I told you not to play that crap on our network,” said Tolox, though she sounded amused.

  Dredger made an unhappy sound. “Just as well.” He tossed the controller onto the desk as GAME OVER flashed across the display. “The developers totally nerfed rocket launchers with the last update. Assholes.”

  “Right,” said Tolox. “Get ready. We’re going to pay Bernard Casimir a visit.”

  Chapter 5: Machine Gaze

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nbsp; As it happened, it took Tolox three days to arrange a meeting with Casimir.

  March spent those three days working with Dredger, and they alternated between vending machine repair and surveilling Deveraux’s Video Parlor.

  Setting up the surveillance proved easy. Deveraux’s bribes caused the Securitate to close their investigation with a conclusion of murder by persons unknown, and the government lost interest in the attack at the Video Parlor. Untroubled by official observation, March installed cameras in the buildings overlooking the Video Parlor. The abandoned factory complex where March had chased the sniper provided an excellent platform for recording the back entrance of the Video Parlor, while the surrounding apartment towers offered views of the Video Parlor’s front entrance. The towers had enough abandoned apartments that March had no trouble positioning the cameras.

  They soon traced Lorre’s movements. Every day, Lorre took a car from a fortified warehouse compound near the airport, a compound owned by one of Deveraux’s companies. Whenever he did, two cars filled with Deveraux’s enforcers accompanied him. March wanted to break into the warehouse and have a look around while Lorre was away, but that proved impossible. A twelve-foot concrete wall topped with a roll of razor wire encircled the warehouse. The gate in the wall was guarded night and day, and security cameras dotted both the wall and the building itself. March also saw security drones patrolling the warehouse’s yard, though they were armed with kinetic weapons instead of the plasma cannon he had faced in the sniper’s drone.

  In time, March knew, he could find a way into the warehouse. That said, he would not take the risk, not until he knew there was something to be gained. Perhaps there was a way to manipulate the authorities into cracking down on whatever Lorre planned. There were many Machinist sympathizers within Rustaril’s government, but there were also anti-Machinist factions that had a healthy fear of the Final Consciousness.

  At night, March stayed in Tolox’s warehouse, in the dormitory she used to house temporary workers on the rare occasions she needed to hire them. It wasn’t terribly comfortable, but March had known much worse, and the steel beams in the ceiling were strong enough to allow him to do pullups.

  In the late afternoon of the third day, March and Dredger returned to the warehouse to find Tolox waiting for them.

  “We’ve got an appointment with Bernard Casimir,” said Tolox.

  Dredger grunted. “Took the greedy bastard long enough.”

  “He wanted a bigger bribe?” said March.

  Tolox shook her head. “No. He wanted promises. Casimir is spooked. Hell, I’d even say he’s scared. Don’t know what’s frightened him so badly, but he’s spending money like water to get more security around him, and he’s put out feelers to hire mercenaries.”

  “Maybe his war with Deveraux’s scared him,” said Dredger. “Now that Deveraux has got Machinist friends and all.”

  “Or maybe,” said March, “whatever Lorre’s up to has got him worried.”

  “That’s my guess,” said Tolox. “He slapped down Deveraux once before, and Deveraux’s operation alone isn’t enough to frighten him. But Deveraux’s new friend Lorre? That might do it.”

  “Makes sense,” said March. “Especially if Casimir hired that Iron Eye to kill Lorre.”

  “That’s one of the things I want to find out,” said Tolox. “Casimir’s skittish, but I think I might be able to talk him around into helping us. He’s got a big operation and a lot of friends in high places. Many senior Administrators like his liquor. If we work together, we have a better chance of shutting down Lorre.” She looked at March and raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve got scruples about working with criminals.”

  March shrugged. “Depends on the criminals. Kezredite slavers? No. A liquor smuggler? I’ve dealt with worse people. And the Machinists are the enemy. Not Casimir and his thugs.”

  “Glad you’re on board,” said Tolox. “I had your suit sent up to your room.”

  March blinked. “Suit?”

  “Well, you didn’t pack any formal wear, did you?”

  March shook his head.

  Tolox smiled. “The Renarchist’s Pride is a classy place. Be sure to take a shower, too. You smell like vending machine oil.”

  March returned to his room and got dressed. It was a nice suit, he had to admit, far nicer than he expected. Black shoes, black trousers, a crisp white shirt, a dark blue tie, and a double-breasted black coat cut long in the Rustari style. March appreciated that the loose Rustari style left ample room for a shoulder holster beneath the coat, though he expected that Casimir’s men would refuse to allow any weapons in the presence of their chief. He pulled a black glove over his cybernetic hand, a common affectation for people with cybernetic limbs, and descended to the warehouse. Dredger awaited him, looking uncomfortable in a similar suit with a red tie.

  “Ha, you clean up well,” said Dredger. “Ms. Revel sees you dressed like that, she’ll be out of her clothes before you can say hello.”

  “For God’s sake,” said March, taking a plastic pistol and tucking it into his shoulder holster along with a pair of spare magazines.

  Dredger grinned. “Well, you can have Ms. Revel. She doesn’t like me, which is baffling, because I’m so likable.”

  The door to the office opened, and Tolox stepped out. She dressed as she usually did, but she had traded her gray suit for a white one. The color suited her well or at least made her face less harsh. She had even donned earrings and a bracelet.

  “Boss,” said Dredger with a grin. “Ready for a night out on the town?”

  Tolox snorted. “Don’t be snide. Dredger, you drive.”

  An unmarked four-door sedan sat at one end of the warehouse. Dredger got into the driver’s seat, and March took the passenger’s side. Tolox seated herself in the back as Dredger started the engine. One of the warehouse doors slid open, and Dredger drove out of the complex and into the street. There wasn’t much traffic near the spaceport at this time of night, mostly heavy trucks hauling unloaded goods from the cargo shuttles.

  “My appointment with Casimir is at 22:00,” said Tolox. “Of course, he’ll keep me waiting. It’s the usual kind of game when dealing with someone like him. You two will need to watch my back.”

  March nodded. “Won’t Dredger and I stand out?”

  Dredger laughed. “Not at the Renarchist’s Pride.”

  March saw Tolox’s thin smile in the rearview mirror. “The people who go to the Pride tend to have enemies, and outworld mercenaries make the best bodyguards. If Casimir really did hire someone to shoot Lorre, he didn’t hire a Rustari, did he?”

  Dredger drove from the towering apartment blocks and towards the government buildings and public spaces at the heart of Rykov City. The government buildings, March noted sourly, were in much better repair than the rest of the city. The seat of government had been built in the classic Rustari style, which was meant to convey strength and order and stability, but which instead looked like an ugly squat block of concrete and glass. There were also huge squares gathered around statues of heroes of the Renarchists. In centuries past, March knew, the Republic had gathered huge rallies of Citizens to protest the Kingdom of Calaskar or whatever served as the government’s bogeyman of the week. They hadn’t done that for a few decades. March supposed the sight of tens of thousands of Sugar-addicted Citizens in their electric carts would not intimidate anyone.

  A mixture of disgust and unease went over him as he looked at the brilliantly lit government buildings. They looked impressive, but behind them, the society of Rustaril was crumbling. March tried to imagine how it would end, and no good outcomes came to his mind.

  Dredger stopped in front of a tall building with the look of an office tower. All the top floors were dark. Light glowed from the glass doors on the ground floor, and four men in dark suits with the look of bouncers stood before the door, eyes hidden behind mirrored shades. It was well past dark, which meant that the shades were disguised night vision equipment, perhaps with ima
ge enhancement capabilities. March assumed this meant they had arrived at the Renarchist’s Pride.

  A man in a valet’s red uniform hurried forward, and Dredger rolled down the window.

  “Welcome,” said the valet. “Ms. Tolox’s party?”

  “That’s us,” said Dredger.

  The valet nodded. “I’ll park your vehicle for you. You and your party can go right inside, Ms. Tolox. Mr. Casimir is expecting you.”

  “Thanks,” said Dredger. He climbed out of the car, and March and Tolox followed suit. The valet got in and drove off. “If he dents that car I’m going to be pissed.”

  “Why? It’s not yours,” said Tolox, smoothing her white coat.

  “Will they take our guns?” said March.

  Tolox shook her head, the light from the doors to the Renarchist’s Pride glinting in her jagged hair. “No. Firearms are allowed, but not plasma weapons, particle beams, lasers, or explosives. Casimir can shut down any trouble as quick as he wants. You’ll see why. Don’t start any trouble.”

  She led the way to the doors, March at her left and Dredger at her right. The bouncers politely stopped her, waved hand scanners over the three of them, and gestured for them to pass. One of the bouncers opened the door, and March followed Tolox into the Renarchist’s Pride.

  March wasn’t sure what to expect. A seedy, obviously criminal place like a spaceport bar? A brothel with pretensions? A strip club? March had encountered taverns and bars of every sort during his work as an Iron Hand and an Alpha Operative.

  He did not, however, expect to find that the Renarchist’s Pride looked so…classy.

  Subdued lighting glinted off the polished red marble of the floor and the gleaming black basalt of the walls. Tables of dark wood stood in orderly rows, and Administrators and wealthy outworlders sat at the tables, eating and drinking. Quiet music played over the speakers, something with a piano and a stringed instrument. A long bar covered the entirety of one wall, and behind the bar, March saw an astonishing array of imported and expensive liquor. The bartenders and waitresses were all female and attractive, and while their short skirts and jackets fit well and their high heels showed their legs to good effect, their costumes were hardly scandalous. Truth be told, after the grotesquely exaggerated Companions or the Sugar-addicted Citizens, March found it difficult not to stare at them.