The Nine Page 7

  “Well, maybe you met one today.”

  “Maybe I did. Which only makes me trust him less.”

  “Have you ever heard of this Praesidium place?”

  “Never in my life.” Stuber’s brow furrowed. “Doesn’t mean he’s making it up. Frankly, I thought we’d step out of the Glass Flats and be in the East Ruins. I didn’t realize there would be cliffs, and mountains, and insect-men, and weird, socially-awkward gunslingers.”

  “Do you think Praesidium is the East Ruins?”

  “Well, he described it as a lovely place. Which doesn’t seem to fit with ‘machines of terror and wrath’ ripping the life from our bodies. But who knows. Maybe he’s into that stuff.” Stuber scratched at his beard. “I’ll tell you one thing: he lied about the East Ruins.”

  “You think so?”

  “Definitely. He was covering something up.”

  Perry glanced over his shoulder again, fearing that Whimsby might be overhearing them—perhaps standing right behind them and smiling in that sanguine way of his. But Whimsby was doing something to the fire, and seem consumed in his task. He didn’t look up when Perry eyed him.

  “If he’s lying about the East Ruins, he might be working for the paladins,” Perry pointed out. “But if that’s the case, why aren’t we dead yet?”

  “Good question. I don’t know the answer. What do you want to do?”

  Perry grimaced. “Not sure I should be making decisions at this point.”

  Stuber sighed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t go all humble martyr on me now. You made a shit decision. Learn from it and move on. Don’t let it paralyze you from making decisions in the future. Any decision is better than no decision. Now. What do you want to do?”

  Perry took a deep breath and stared out into the darkness. The possibilities rolled around in his head, like marbles that he’d just been struck into motion. If Whimsby was working with the paladins, then if they refused to go with him, he’d pull out his guns and force them.

  But if Whimsby was simply offering hospitality, then it’d be foolish of them not to accept. He was clearly knowledgeable. At the very least, they could rest, maybe get some more supplies, and continue on their way with a better sense of what lay ahead.

  Perhaps it was cynical of Perry, but he couldn’t accept that Whimsby was doing all of this out of altruism. He had ulterior motives. Perhaps they were malicious. Perhaps not.

  “Alright,” Perry said. “I say we bide our time for now.” He turned to face the fire and the bedrolls waiting for them. “But…you know…sleep with one eye open, and your weapon within reach.” He smirked. “Not that you’d ever do otherwise.”

  “Never in my life.”

  ***

  As it turned out, Perry didn’t sleep with one eye open. He just slept.

  He’d intended to keep himself wary—to rest, but with his senses on a hair trigger. He’d long ago learned how to do that. Three years on a scavenging outfit with a guy that wanted to slit your throat taught you awful quick.

  But then he got into the bedroll and discovered that it was heated. And it was soft. Like lying on air. And the adjustment that Whimsby had made to the fire had caused the flames to hiss out the sides instead of the top, projecting the heat all around it. And he had a full belly for once. And…

  And then he woke up.

  It was dawn.

  He came upright with a jerk, his hand going to the longstaff at his side, fully expecting to discover his three companions tied up, and Whimsby standing over him with both revolvers drawn.

  Everyone else was already awake.

  Sagum gabbed with Whimsby over a small power reactor. The skinny guy was an absolute idiot for technology, and Perry didn’t think he’d seen his eyes so alight with obvious pleasure since he’d met him. And Whimsby seemed all too happy to talk about his contraptions.

  Stuber was nowhere to be found, which caused a note of alarm to ring through Perry’s chest, but everything must’ve been okay, because Teran stood, leaning against the side of the buggy, drinking something that steamed, and watching Perry with amusement wrinkling the corners of her eyes.

  “Good thing we weren’t being drawn and quartered,” she said. “You would’ve slept through our screaming.”

  Perry hurtled to his feet, trying to convince Teran that he hadn’t been sleeping that soundly. Obviously, Teran was not convinced. The blinking of his foggy eyes and the disorientation on his face probably gave him away.

  She took a sip from her drink and then looked over her shoulder to confirm Whimsby was occupied. She crossed to Perry. “Stuber told me what you guys talked about last night.” She spoke in low tones, her eyes scanning elsewhere. “Glad you actually talked it out with someone this time.”

  Perry sighed. “Gods in the skies, Teran. Did you come on this trip just to bust my balls, or was it so you could cuddle up with Sagum every night?”

  He immediately regretted it. He’d intended it to come out playful, but he was still half-asleep and his tone was grouchy.

  Teran drew her head back. “Whoa. Apparently you want to have an argument with me.”

  Perry shook his head. “That came out wrong. I don’t want to argue with you.”

  “Good. ‘Cause I don’t want to argue with you either.” She leaned towards him. “But just so we’re on the same page, Perry, I’m not here for you, or Sagum, or anyone but my people back home. If any of them are still alive. If you’re my only chance to bring down the paladins and make sure that nothing ever happens to my people again, that they can live free lives? Then I’ll do whatever it takes. Including putting up with your crabby morning attitude.”

  He raised the white flag by showing his palms. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Also.” The corner of her mouth twisted up. Not quite a smile, though the mechanics were there. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Who I sleep with is my business.”

  She raised her eyebrows, as though to see what reaction he might have to this. He frowned at her and opened his mouth, but then she turned and started towards the small satchel that she carried, sitting next to her bedroll.

  “Wait,” Perry said. “So you have?”

  “Not your business,” she shot over her shoulder.

  Perry huffed. Kicked a rock. “She hasn’t,” he murmured to himself. And he knew it was true—had to be true, because they’d been around each other pretty much nonstop for the last two weeks. When the hell would they have had a chance?

  And why are you even thinking about this? Perry demanded of himself. Don’t you have better things to worry about?

  He did. But somehow it still buzzed in the back of his mind.

  Stuber emerged from a stand of pines downslope from them. His cheeks and nose were red from the chill wind, though the sunlight gave a promise that perhaps the day would be warmer.

  They were all poorly dressed for cold weather. Perry hoped it was only their altitude and once they got off this mountain, the temperature would be back in the realm of what Perry’s body was used to: Hot and dry.

  “Where’ve you been?” Perry asked when he was close enough.

  Stuber hiked a thumb behind him, cradling his rifle with his other arm. “Went to get the lay of the land. And to take a shit.”

  “Yeah? What’s it look like?” Perry shook his head, knowing he needed to clarify before he gave Stuber a chance to answer that one. “The lay of the land, that is.”

  “Rocky. Hilly. Lots of pines.” Stuber gestured out in the direction that the buggy faced. “Mostly downhill from here. Hopefully that’s where we’re going.”

  Perry stood there for a few beats, his lips pursed.

  “What?” Stuber asked.

  Perry nodded once, making his decision. He’d known it was the decision he was going to make. But he’d given himself time to wrestle with it. Maybe to see if a better idea came to him. But one hadn’t, and like Stuber had said, any decision is better than no decision.

  “I’m go
nna do something,” he said to Stuber.

  Stuber eyed him suspiciously. “Does it involve you being a lone hero or are we allowed to help this time?”

  Perry’s ears burned. “No lone hero shit this time. I need you to back me up.”

  There was a slight twinkling in Stuber’s eyes. He hefted his rifle. “Does it involve guns?”

  “Yes it does.”

  “Fantastic. Proceed.”

  Perry turned and walked around the buggy to where Whimsby knelt by the portable reactor. He flowed into his longstaff with a smooth mental motion. As Whimsby glanced up at him, Perry leveled the faintly-buzzing longstaff at his face. “Don’t fucking move.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IMPROVISING

  Whimsby stared. But he didn’t move.

  “You reach for those revolvers and I’ll explode your head right off your shoulders,” Perry said, keeping his voice calm and level. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Stuber moving around to cover Whimsby from a different angle.

  Sagum stood there, slack-jawed, completely taken off-balance. “What are you doing, Perry?”

  “Indeed,” Whimsby said, eyes coursing between Perry and Stuber, but otherwise not moving. “An excellent question. What is it that you are doing, goodsir?”

  “Raise your hands and interlock your fingers on top of your head,” Perry instructed.

  “I can move rather quickly,” Whimsby said, his stone still genial. Hell, the bastard had a smirk on his lips. “I could draw my weapon and take Sagum there hostage before you could react, I think. And do you really have the accuracy with that longstaff to take me out without killing your friend too?”

  Perry opened his mouth to answer in the affirmative—which would have been a flat-out lie—but before he could speak, Stuber stepped forward, sighting through his rifle’s optic. “It doesn’t matter if he can or not. I can. And I will. And besides, it’s Smegma. Even if I kill you both, it’s really not a big loss.”

  Sagum made a small, hurt sound, like he’d been pricked with a pin.

  Whimsby cleared his throat. “This is typically not how you treat the person who saved your life.”

  “It is a little ungrateful,” Perry admitted. “But I’m not getting in that buggy and blindly letting you drive us wherever you want. Sorry that it had to come to this. There weren’t a whole lot of options, unfortunately. Sagum, do me a favor and remove Whimsby’s revolvers.”

  Teran appeared around the back of the buggy, a few paces behind Sagum. Her eyes worked over the scene, picking it apart and trying to figure out what had happened, and why weapons were being pointed.

  To her credit, it didn’t take her long. As Sagum still processed Perry’s command, she moved up and gave him a nudge. “Do what Perry said.”

  Sagum moved into action, still dazed like he’d taken a right hook to the jaw.

  Teran moved to the rear of the buggy and pulled something out of the bed. She seemed to realize that Perry didn’t dare take his eyes off Whimsby for a second, especially with Sagum inching closer to him like he was a rabid raccoon-bear that might pounce at any second. Teran spoke loudly and clearly. “Perry, I have a couple cargo straps here. Do you want him tied up?”

  Perry was locked into a stare down with Whimsby, who still smirked at him. Perry smirked back, though he didn’t feel it. That knowing little smile made it seem like Whimsby might have a few tricks up his sleeve. “That would be perfect, Teran.”

  Stuber had moved around so that his angle of fire wouldn’t hit Perry if he passed a bullet through Whimsby’s head.

  Sagum leaned in with ginger fingers and plucked first the right, then the left revolver out of Whimsby’s holsters.

  “You still have yet to explain what it is you’re doing,” Whimsby said. “I would very much like to know.”

  “I’ll explain in a moment,” Perry said, dismissively. He knew what Whimsby was doing. Whimsby was trying to keep his mind pre-occupied with conversation, because a pre-occupied mind won’t pull the trigger as fast.

  Not that the longstaff had a trigger. It moved at the speed of thought.

  But, accuracy required a lot of focus. More focus than Perry apparently had. He prayed Whimsby wouldn’t force him to take the shot—he wasn’t sure he could do it without Sagum losing a limb in the process.

  But then Sagum had the revolvers and retreated a few steps.

  “Okay, Teran. Tie his wrists behind his back. Good and tight.”

  Teran moved in.

  Whimsby stayed unnaturally still. His crouched position must have been difficult to maintain, but he didn’t sway or tremble. The guy must have muscles of steel. Perry was glad that he was compliant. So far.

  Teran took hold of first one wrist, and then the other, placing them at Whimsby’s lower back and wrapping them tightly with the straps. When she was finished, she looked up at Perry. “You want me to search him too?”

  Perry nodded and she went through his pockets and patted him down, coming up with nothing but the key fob to the buggy and his belt of bullets.

  When she was finished with that, she stepped back.

  Whimsby sniffed. “Can I move now? Or am I doomed to remain in this position for eternity?”

  “Just sit,” Perry said, not liking the idea of him standing. He’d been pretty fast on his feet yesterday. He didn’t want to give the man a chance to run, because he wasn’t sure he could shoot him in the back. He wasn’t going on any rides with Whimsby, but Perry didn’t like the idea of just killing the man in cold blood.

  Whimsby let out a longsuffering sigh, giving Perry a look of mild disappointment. He sat back onto the ground, folding his legs underneath him. “There. You have me at your mercy. Pray tell, why we have found ourselves at this juncture? Was it the cuisine?”

  Stuber moved up so that he had more of a sure shot, but was still out of reach.

  Perry ignored Whimsby’s question for now. “Okay. Teran. Sagum.” He tore his eyes off their captive and met the gaze of the other two. Sagum still looked thunderstruck. But Teran, now that the immediate threat had been dealt with, looked curious as to whether or not this was another one of Perry’s hairbrained schemes.

  “You wanna tell us what we’re doing here?” she said in a low voice.

  “First off, sorry for not telling you guys. Again. I didn’t want to plan it out verbally and risk having him overhear.”

  “A wise choice,” Whimsby put in.

  Stuber cleared his throat. “I’m going to have to ask you to shut up. But I’m doing it nicely. So shut up. Please.”

  Teran squinted at Perry. “Alright. Well, here we are. What’s next?”

  “You heard what I told him, and that’s my reasons—we don’t know what this place is that he wants to take us to, and we’re not going until we know. Sagum, can you see if there isn’t something in the buggy? A computer, or a map, or something?”

  “Permission to speak,” Whimsby said.

  Perry looked at him. Nodded.

  “Firstly, please do not damage my buggy during your search. Secondly, I would like to confirm my understanding of what you’ve just said. If I answer your questions, will you allow me to take you to Praesidium?”

  “Gods, no,” Perry said. “You’re not taking us anywhere. And as for what we do, that’ll entirely depend on the information we get.” He turned back to Sagum and nodded towards the buggy.

  Sagum hefted the two revolvers. “What do you want me to do with these?”

  “Give them to Teran.”

  He passed them off, and Teran nearly dropped them as she took them. “Gods in the skies. Perry. These things are heavy.”

  “Smegma,” Stuber called out.

  Sagum stopped as he approached the driver’s door of the buggy.

  “I wouldn’t have missed,” Stuber said. “But if I had, and you died, it would have made me sad. Carry on.”

  Sagum frowned. “Thanks?” He turned back to the buggy.

  Perry turned his attention back to their capti
ve. Whimsby tilted his head back to look up at Perry from under his hat brim.

  “Ah. Is it time for talking now?”

  Perry squatted down so that Whimsby wouldn’t get a crick in his neck looking at him. He leaned on his longstaff. “Yeah. It’s time for talking.”

  “My breath is bated.”

  “The East Ruins.”

  That queer little pause again. And then, “I am not permitted to speak about that.”

  Perry glanced up at Stuber with a triumphant look in his eyes. Then back to Whimsby. “Last night you said you’d never heard of it. Now you’re saying that you have heard of it, but you’re just not going to tell us about it.”

  A slight nod. “I am not permitted to speak about that.”

  Perry quirked an eyebrow. “And what if I have that angry legionnaire shoot your kneecap off?”

  “That would be detrimental to the rapport we are building.”

  Alright, let’s save that one for a minute…

  “Who forbid you from speaking about it? Who do you work for?”

  “A gentleman by the name of Warden Abbas.”

  “Warden? Like a prison? Is Praesidium a prison?”

  Whimsby shook his head. “No. Warden, more in the sense of a man in charge of keeping things. Not people. Per se.”

  Perry shifted his weight, growing irritated. “What does he keep, then?”

  “I am not permitted to speak about that.”

  “What are you permitted to speak about, Whimsby?”

  “I am permitted to speak about a great many things,” Whimsby replied. “It would take too long to name them all. You just happen to be asking a lot of questions about the few things I cannot.”

  “I’m getting really close to having Stuber blow your kneecap off.”

  “Please don’t.” He wasn’t begging. Simply asking politely.

  “Okay.” Perry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed through it. “Why are you not permitted to speak about the East Ruins?”