Read Online How Dark the World Becomes by Frank Chadwick - Free Book Online
Authors: Frank Chadwick
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details. Arrie was right about that—didn’t give a mouse fart about leather-head politics, no matter how violent it got. It wasn’t just a species thing—they really do own everything, and much as I like Arrie, in a cautious, eyes-open kind of way, they’re the problem for us down here in the Quarter. So when bosses start killing each other, smart slaves just look the other way.
“I heard a little about the shooting,” I said, “but educate me.”
“Okay. Sure. Leather-head with serious buckage—I’m talking stinking rich, like in the top ten of the e-Varokiim —named Sarro e-Traak, him and his driver got shot dead in his limo. Secure parking facility, all closed up. Very weird. Couple other leather-head bystanders killed at the scene. First reports were they were provosts, but not so. Just rubberneckers—wrong place, wrong time. Rumors like that . . . big guy gets shot, everybody starts grabbin’ for their ass and getting the information fucked up, you know?”
I nodded.
“So big hunt going on, ’cause his little kids were with him. No sign of them yet, but they’re dead, too. At first Munies thought the Human bodyguard—guy named Bony Jones—was on the inside, maybe lined the whole thing up, ’cause he was missing from the scene, but they found him dead the next day.”
“Maybe he was on the take and his partners did him,” I offered, but Bernie shook his head.
“Don’t think so. Don’t think so. Ballistics on the slugs in him matched those in e-Traak, and Bony’s blood was at the scene, so it looks like he ‘died of wounds sustained,’ as they say. Haven’t found the bodies of the kids yet, but give it a day or two. I figure the killers took the kids’ bodies and hid them, ’cause long as there’s a chance they’re still alive, the Munies will make finding the kids the top priority, and every Munie looking for the kids is one less looking for the silencers. But the kids are dead.”
“Any reason to think the bodyguard was on the inside, other than going missing?”
“Just that he’s Human.” He looked at me as if that was supposed to be significant, and when I shrugged, he shook his head.
“You don’t know about the e-Traak fortune? Sasha, Sasha . . . you gotta pay more attention. E-Traak family money was behind AZ Tissopharm—the big chemical outfit that brought all us Human workers here forty years ago and then pulled the plug on the operation, left us scratching dirt with the chickens. I don’t even know what the guy was doing on-planet—usually I hear he stays a dozen or so light-years away. It’s not exactly healthy for him here.”
No, apparently not.
I’d heard the name e-Traak before, but I didn’t get the association until Bernie filled in the blank. Over a hundred thousand Human workers had been brought here to open the big pharmaceutical operation based on the native Peezgtaan mold spores that were supposed to revolutionize Varoki medicine. The company went bust, but everyone here had return-passage bonds to Earth as part of their contracts. Then it turned out the bonding company was bust, too. In both cases, e-Traak family money had been behind the companies, and in both cases they’d gotten their money out before the collapse.
And if that sounds as if it should be illegal in any sort of system that’s fair, then maybe you’ll understand why folks around here don’t have much love for the Cottohazz anymore. Too many bony lizard thumbs on the scales of justice.
“Okay. So what do the two flight-prone leather-heads have to do with all this?” I asked.
He nodded rapidly, as if he were a bloodhound who’d picked up the scent again.
“Ballistics at the scene makes it two shooters, one for e-Traak and one for his driver. There’s also something weird about the weapons they were using—haven’t been able to find out the details yet, but it’s got the provosts sure these guys are real special killers. Connect the dots. A couple silencers get
“I heard a little about the shooting,” I said, “but educate me.”
“Okay. Sure. Leather-head with serious buckage—I’m talking stinking rich, like in the top ten of the e-Varokiim —named Sarro e-Traak, him and his driver got shot dead in his limo. Secure parking facility, all closed up. Very weird. Couple other leather-head bystanders killed at the scene. First reports were they were provosts, but not so. Just rubberneckers—wrong place, wrong time. Rumors like that . . . big guy gets shot, everybody starts grabbin’ for their ass and getting the information fucked up, you know?”
I nodded.
“So big hunt going on, ’cause his little kids were with him. No sign of them yet, but they’re dead, too. At first Munies thought the Human bodyguard—guy named Bony Jones—was on the inside, maybe lined the whole thing up, ’cause he was missing from the scene, but they found him dead the next day.”
“Maybe he was on the take and his partners did him,” I offered, but Bernie shook his head.
“Don’t think so. Don’t think so. Ballistics on the slugs in him matched those in e-Traak, and Bony’s blood was at the scene, so it looks like he ‘died of wounds sustained,’ as they say. Haven’t found the bodies of the kids yet, but give it a day or two. I figure the killers took the kids’ bodies and hid them, ’cause long as there’s a chance they’re still alive, the Munies will make finding the kids the top priority, and every Munie looking for the kids is one less looking for the silencers. But the kids are dead.”
“Any reason to think the bodyguard was on the inside, other than going missing?”
“Just that he’s Human.” He looked at me as if that was supposed to be significant, and when I shrugged, he shook his head.
“You don’t know about the e-Traak fortune? Sasha, Sasha . . . you gotta pay more attention. E-Traak family money was behind AZ Tissopharm—the big chemical outfit that brought all us Human workers here forty years ago and then pulled the plug on the operation, left us scratching dirt with the chickens. I don’t even know what the guy was doing on-planet—usually I hear he stays a dozen or so light-years away. It’s not exactly healthy for him here.”
No, apparently not.
I’d heard the name e-Traak before, but I didn’t get the association until Bernie filled in the blank. Over a hundred thousand Human workers had been brought here to open the big pharmaceutical operation based on the native Peezgtaan mold spores that were supposed to revolutionize Varoki medicine. The company went bust, but everyone here had return-passage bonds to Earth as part of their contracts. Then it turned out the bonding company was bust, too. In both cases, e-Traak family money had been behind the companies, and in both cases they’d gotten their money out before the collapse.
And if that sounds as if it should be illegal in any sort of system that’s fair, then maybe you’ll understand why folks around here don’t have much love for the Cottohazz anymore. Too many bony lizard thumbs on the scales of justice.
“Okay. So what do the two flight-prone leather-heads have to do with all this?” I asked.
He nodded rapidly, as if he were a bloodhound who’d picked up the scent again.
“Ballistics at the scene makes it two shooters, one for e-Traak and one for his driver. There’s also something weird about the weapons they were using—haven’t been able to find out the details yet, but it’s got the provosts sure these guys are real special killers. Connect the dots. A couple silencers get
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