Sheila started around the table, but Rabo and The Weeze scurried around to block her. Greerson remained seated, unflappable. The cyberboys watched tensely, though their placid expressions did not change. The elven Mr. Johnson looked on with detached amus.e.m.e.nt. As the orks restrained their own, Neko wondered if his trip to America was turning out to be what he had hoped. A dead runner had no prospects, and an unstable team made for dead runners.

The fair-haired cyberboy asked for a clarification on One of the points in the synopsis, and Mr. Johnson elaborated. There were a handful of other questions, Johnson fielding each in turn and dismissing the runners' concerns. Sometime in the middle of a discussion of the timing for the rendezvous with Johnson outside the city, the papers started to crumble. The meeting followed suit. After going around the table and asking each runner if he or she agreed to the run, the elf left. Greerson and the cyberboys vacatedthe premises with identical dispatch, leaving Neko alone with the orks. Neko took the opportunity to approach Kham.

"I thought we might coordinate efforts to cross the border to the rendezvous point."

55.The big ork looked down at him, the. expression on his misshapen face slightly quizzical. He rubbed the stub of his broken lower tusk. "Ya wanta cooperate?" "That is a wise course, is it not?" Neko said, giving his most polite smile.

"Yeah, sometimes." The ork nodded. "Why ya talking ta me and not dem odder guys?"

"You are the Kham who has run with Sally Tsung and The Dodger?"

The ork's expression changed to a frown. "Ain't seen ya around town before." "I have only recently arrived." "So how da ya know who I run wit?" the ork asked suspiciously. "I am in the biz."

The ork didn't like that answer, for his eyes narrowed to slits. "You know da dogboy?" "I do not understand your reference." "Verner." At Neko's blank look, Kham added, "His street name is Twist."

So ka. This ork was smarter than he looked, to turn the probe around so quickly. Would the ork prefer an affirmative or a negative response to his question? The metahuman's physiognomy was different enough that Neko could not easily read his expression. Let the truth serve. "I have been involved in some of his biz."

The ork's smile was particularly toothy. "Den maybe ya won't be a liability."

Neko had been thinking reciprocal thoughts about the ork. "You need have no fears in that regard."

"Confident pup."

The comment seemed uncalled for. "Pup is slang for a young dog, is it not? My name means 'cat' in English, so that makes your remark inaccurate. And if I understand the contextual use correctly, it is doubly inappropriate."

"No need ta get in an uproar, catboy." In a bewil- 56.dering shift, the ork's mood changed and he laughed. "Why'd ya wanta know if I know Sally and da elf?"

"A personal matter."

With another mercurial shift, the ork became serious. "Look, kid. I may not like da elf much, but I ain't gonna set him up, and if yer looking ta make trouble fer Lady Tsung, yer gonna be lying in da streets instead of walking on 'em."

There was no mistaking the ork's fierce loyalty to Sally Tsung. Perhaps it was even more than loyalty. In any case, mollification was in order. "It's nothing like that, I a.s.sure you. I just want to meet them face to face."

"Don't know where da elf is. And da Lady's busy." The last was said with a frown. Kham was obviously unhappy about something to do with his relationship with Tsung.

Further elaboration might be enlightening. "I would especially like to meet Lady Tsung." That earned Neko a sidelong glare from the ork. "What are ya, a fan?"

"After a fashion."

, "Yeah, well, she don't like fanboys." "I a.s.sure you, it is not like that." "You do an awful lot of a.s.suring."

"I merely meant to be polite." "She's still busy."

"Perhaps after this run?" Neko suggested. "Yeah, maybe." Kham's mood shifted again, going pensive. "If we all survive."

Neko accepted his response with a bow of the head. There was always the matter of survival. The ork took the gesture as a sign that the conversation was closed, and told his group to meet him at a specific time and place. Neko was not specifically addressed, but he was allowed to overhear, suggesting that Kham expected him also to show up on time at the named location as 51.a test of his suitability and reliability. The move was neither unexpected nor unacceptable.

Neko watched Kham and his orks leave, then sat down at the table. Idly he blew the ashes of the decomposed briefing across the table. He would sit and wait a while to see how long it took before the proprietor evicted him. If he was going to operate here in Seattle, he was going to have to learn all the finer points of its shadow world.

5.

Kham slipped loose bullets into a spare magazine as he scanned the woods around him. With clouds scudding along on the night wind, the moonlight was fitful. Not that he really needed it; he was used to the slightly greasy feel of the caseless ammunition, used to loading by feel. But tonight the slickness of the ammo made him think of other slippery things. Like Mr. Johnsons who sent you out on runs in which they didn't have to risk their own necks, and runners who had better things to do than get ready for a run.

So far, there had been no problems. He and most of his guys had made it across the wall and into Salish-Shidhe territory without a hitch. By going over the wall, they had avoided the roadblocks on the highways leading to and from the Seattle metroplex, points where a bunch of orks with heavy weaponry would attract a lot of attention. Climbing the wall had been a sweaty and nerve-wracking effort, but they had gone over it without incident. In some ways, the wild lands out here were just as sweaty and nerve-wracking. The lack of concrete under his feet made Kham nervous.

58.He could tell that the guys were nervous, too, but nervous runners were alert runners, so maybe it wasn't all bad. The guys would keep their eyes open, and trouble was never as bad when you saw it coming.

The border between the Seattle metroplex and the S-S Council was too long, and the Salish tribes too shorthanded, to watch all of it all of the time, but there were still occasional patrols to worry about. None of Kham's team had travel pa.s.ses for the tribal lands, so their guns would be their only tickets home if they ran into any Injuns. There had been no trouble so far, not even when Greerson had come sneaking in from the woods. Even Sheila had stayed chill.

Kham wouldn't be happy until Rabo and the j.a.p kid arrived with the Rover, however.

"Ra'bo's late." The Weeze coughed when she made her comment, sounding like she had some deadly lung disease. The cough came from a genetic defect, the same thing that made her voice a breathysqueak, but she was a good hand in a fight and that was what counted.

"He'll be here," Kham a.s.sured her. Sheila fingered the stock of her AK, absently tracing the woodgrain pattern. "That j.a.p kid probably tipped off the Injuns."

"Why do you say that?" asked John Parker. "Dunno. That kid gives me the creeps. It's like he knows something you don't, ya know? How come he's along anyway? He ain't muscle. Ain't magic or a Matrix runner neither.''

Kham had wondered the same thing, but hadn't thought it politic to come right out and ask Neko. The elf hiring the runners had obviously thought Neko worth including, and the kid had kept up with the guys in the one drill they'd been able to manage. At least the kid had worked out with them. That was good, wasn't it? None of the others had been interested in 59.working with Kham and his crew to get ready for the run.

Kham hadn't been able to track down Greerson or the cyberboys after last night's meet, so they never made it to the drill. But they probably wouldn't have come even if he'd been able to find them. Kham didn't like going out without knowing how they would play it if the drek hit the fan. Without knowing their styles, he might position his guys wrong or shoot one of them by accident. Too dicey not knowing your team. It was true that Greerson was a pro, but Kham had never worked with the dwarf before, and the razorguy twins were total strangers. This kind of random mix wasn't the sort of thing Kham would have worried about in the past, but leading his guys had made him think about things like that. The elf had a.s.sured Kham that only seasoned professionals were involved, which was good. If trouble came, professionalism was the only thing they had going for them. Maybe it would be enough to keep them from s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up. Maybe it wouldn't.

The sound of a vehicle engine drifted through the woods. Kham signaled for his guys to take cover, and they scattered into the darkness under the trees. Greerson and the cyberboys faded on their own, raising Kham's hopes that the run wouldn't be a disaster after all.

The wait was short and their precautions proven unnecessary when Kham recognized the battered green Chrysler-Nissan Rover bouncing its way up what pa.s.sed for a trail. While Rabo was shutting down the vehicle and jacking out, Neko slipped out of the pa.s.senger side and reported no problems crossing the border.

Rabo was grinning when he climbed out of the Rover. "Good idea the kid had, making like a tourist. The Injuns scanned the disk he gave them and waved 60.us on through. Smooth quicklike. We coulda had all of you guys in the back."

"Then what took so long?" Sheila asked.

Rabo looked sheepish. "Got lost."

"The link to the Navstar was out," Neko offered in Rabo's defense.

Kham was unhappy. "I tought I told ya ta check everyting out before ya left."

"I did," Rabo protested. "It's not the Rover. It's the fragging sat." "The Navstar's down?" Greerson asked.

"Ain't broadcasting," Rabo said.

"Gonna be a lotta unhappy people," John Parker opined.

"That is not your concern," said a voice new to the conversation.

The voice was Mr. Johnson's. The elf had turned up without Kham hearing him approach. From the surprised reactions of the other runners, no one else had heard him either. Kham noticed that one of the razor-guys was tapping his ear as if to check its function, but Neko was already looking in the direction of Johnson's approach. The kid had seen Johnson, or heard him, or known he'd be there, and he had said nothing.

Annoyed, he growled at Johnson. "So what's da deal?"

"All in good time, Kham. Gentlemen, and ladies, my role in directing this affair is nearly complete. I will leave any further instructions to the princ.i.p.als for this run."

With that remark, two tall, thin figures emerged from the growing gloom. They stood silhouetted against a pale rockface, but Kham could have sworn they hadn't been there a moment before. From the height and build of the newcomers they were elves like their Mr. Johnson, but that was the only clue to their ident.i.ty.

Also like Johnson, they wore nondescript 61.camouflage coveralls but, unlike Johnson, they had no recognizable features. Above the upturned collars, there were no faces, only shimmering ovoids of flickering colors, a magical disguise to conceal their ident.i.ties. One or both of them would be the promised magical support.

Kham had been around enough magic to know that they could easily have disguised themselves totally, looked like anyone they'd wanted. Hadn't Sally arranged numerous magical disguises for Kham on their runs together? He also knew that such magic took effort and concentration. No magician had an inexhaustible supply of either, so they often skimped. He remembered Sally saying that a partial disguise or a false face based on a person's real one was less taxing, a good choice when there might be other needs for her magic. With their nothing faces, these elves were totally unrecognizable. If holding the blanks was easier than maintaining a made-up collection of features, the magician might be h.o.a.rding his power the way Sally did.

The disguises had two implications. The first was simple: somewhere these two elves were important people, and their faces were well-known. At the very least, one of the runners might recognize one or both of them. The second was more disquieting: the magician who cast the disguise spell was concerned about conserving power while protecting the ident.i.ty of these important people. If that magician was here for the run, the magic man seemed to be expecting to need all his juice, suggesting that the runners might be facing a serious magical threat. And if the magician wasn't here, that meant no magical support, which was its own problem.

On the other hand, the princ.i.p.als-if that's who these two elves really were-were risking their own b.u.t.ts on this one, so maybe things might not get too hot.

Only one thing was very clear: whatever was going down was pretty fraggin' important to these two.

6 Neko was only slightly surprised that they traveled toward their destination without incident, suspecting that they were traveling under magical protection. Mr. 'Johnson's vehicle had arrived cloaked in a silence spell, and the other two elves had appeared with what could only have been magical aid. Because the two elves who were apparently Mr. Johnson's princ.i.p.als were magicians of some power-or so their a.s.sured stances would have onlookers believe-it was unlikely that they would take chances with their persons. The magicians would be using their magic to conceal the tiny caravan and ward it from arcane threats. They had also shown concern for mundane threats by their selection of runners for this still mysterious task, but nothing had yet materialized to justify such precautions.

Neko had chosen to ride with the orks, a ploy that gained him some measure of respect from the orks at the cost of disdain from the other runners. His choice had possibly alienated him from the other runners, but the importance of the change to the group dynamic would only be revealed with time. Accordingly, he dismissed such concerns from his mind and turned his attention to studying the countryside.

The forest was fascinating and frightening all at once. Despite Neko's training in less urbanized areas, he was a child of the city. To the despair of his teachers, he had always felt most at home surrounded by manmade structures. The giant trees that ruled here looked ancient, but he knew better. He had seen the videos depicting how the Native Americans had restored the Pacific Northwest and most of the other lands in the Indian-controlled territories to a primeval state. They had done so by obliterating all traces of man and by accelerating the natural growth process of the remaining vegetation and wildlife, but somehow Neko hadn't really believed it. According to those vids, most of the trees were magically grown after the triumph of the Native Americans and the return of much of North America to their control. As a child he'd believed it all wholeheartedly, but later he began to doubt that such magic was possible, a.s.suming instead that the images in the vids were the result of mere technical wizardry. But here, among the trees themselves, there could be no doubt. This forest was real. It might have taken great effort, using both magical and mundane means, to achieve this end; but it had been achieved, and supremely well. Neko would have liked to have more time to simply appreciate the wonder of this place.

The vehicles moved stealthily, without noise and without light. They pa.s.sed the dark boles of immense trees, moving along paths skirted in a green profusion of plant life. All was accomplished in darkness, the drivers using no more than the scattered moonlight. Norms could do it with light amplification goggles, but using such tech was tiring. The elven and ork drivers didn't need such technological aids; they guided the vehicles unerringly as they b.u.mped along.

At length, the lead vehicle carrying the elves rolled to a stop at the edge of a stream. Rabo pulled the Rover into the s.p.a.ce between the elves' vehicle and a rocky outcrop. With a caution that Neko admired, the rigger situated the truck so that its headlights would sweep a different part of the clearing should illumi- 64.nation be needed. Upon disembarking, Mr. Johnson gave orders to set up a perimeter, explaining that what they were about to do might attract hostile attention. The orks and the razorguys dispersed across the clearing and into the trees to secure the area. When all were in place, Greerson toured the perimeter, critiquing the layout and suggesting improvements. At one point Johnson had to step in to prevent an argument between Greerson and Sheila from escalating into a fight. Neko watched the proceedings patiently; he would find the best position for using his skills once he knew where the others would be.

Just as he had decided that he would fill a hole between the positions of The Weeze and the blond razorguy in the northwest perimeter, one of the elves restrained him with a feather touch on his shoulder.

"There is another task for you," said a voice distorted and toneless behind the disguise spell. The Dark One, Neko noted, as the dark-skinned hand dropped from his shoulder. The other elven princ.i.p.al, the Light One, was Caucasian. Skin color and a slight difference in size and build were all that distinguished them visually, but Neko was beginning to pick out characteristic gestures and stances.

Soon, he would be able to distinguish easily between the two without the need to refer to the color of their skin. That was good; skin color might be an additional part of their disguise, although he doubted that; it was inconsistent with the featureless faces and distorted voices.

He watched the elves as they unloaded cases and satchels from their vehicle, noting every subtle difference in the way they moved. He was fascinated that although Mr. Johnson showed a deference to both, his att.i.tude displayed more than ordinary subservience to the Dark One. Neko thought he detected a hint of fear.

The equipment emerging from the unloaded cases 65.caught Neko's eye. It was obviously occult apparatus. Rarely had he seen magicians at work and never had he beheld such marvelously constructed ritual paraphernalia. The craftsmanship was of the finest quality and the materials exquisite. This would be interesting. Noticing his attention, the Light One said, "You observe our work with an interested eye, Neko." "No disrespect is intended." "No, I did not think so. But do you understand what we are doing?"

Neko thought it best to be honest. "No." "Does it frighten you?" "No."

"An almost honest answer." Even without seeing it, Neko knew that the elf smiled in condescension.

Neko decided that he didn't like the Light One's att.i.tude, but he said nothing. His silence had no effect on the elf. The Light One continued speaking, a pedantic tone creeping into his voice despite the magical disguise.

"For the work we are attempting, all the elements must be aligned precisely. Due to certain obstacles, we are unable to place one of these elements ourselves. It is you who must achieve that." The elf pointed to his left. "Two meters to the left of that tree, the one with the lightning scar, is a hole. It is in the side of the stream bank, invisible to the unaided eye. It is quite a small hole, but not so small that you cannot pa.s.s through. Once we show it to you, you must enter it, carrying an item we will give you."

An unusual task, Neko thought. "Where does this hole lead?"

"To a cavern," the Dark One said as he joined them. "Are there no other entrances?" "None available to you, or to us," the Light One said.

'HP*1".

66."Are you prepared to do this thing?" the Dark One asked.

Neko was not; at least, not yet. "What will I be facing? In the way of defenses, that is."

"We know of none that will affect you. Here, the primary defense is camouflage."

"You suggest that there remain secondary defenses."

"Yes," the Dark One confirmed. "Magical ones." "That is why you must be blindfolded to ensure your safety," the Light One said. "The cave will be dark anyway, rendering vision useless. We cannot allow you to carry or use illumination because of the adverse eifect of light on the magic we will be performing. This might be a handicap to others, but we were informed that your skills will allow you to function effectively in such an environment."

Neko nodded affirmatively, but said nothing. His own safety might depend on these elves not knowing all of his abilities.

"Good." The Dark One held out a satchel. "Once you are inside, you will know where to place the object by the vibration you will feel once it enters proper alignment."

Neko took the offering; it was heavy for its size. Slinging it over his shoulder, he found that it was hard, as well, and that its weight unbalanced his stance. He shifted the strap over his head and onto his other shoulder, settling the burden more comfortably against the small of his back.

The Dark One offered him a cloth with symbols painted on it, telling him that the symbols were the sigils for a protective spell. A spell it might be, but Neko felt no different when the Dark One tied the blindfold around his head. The lack of any kind of sensory effect was unusual, judging by past experience 67.with magically imbued artifacts, but to question the elves would be an insult he thought it best not to give.

"Time is of the essence," the Light One said as they led Neko to the dark, musty-smelling hole in the streambank. Taking that as an order to proceed, Neko suppressed any final reservation and climbed into the hole. What lay below was unknown. Others might quail before the prospect of crawling blindfolded into the unknown, but to Neko a mystery was always compelling. For the moment he might be deprived of the use of his eyes, but he had other senses, and he trusted those implicitly.

The opening was naturally small, but the pa.s.sage opened up almost immediately. For a while. He soon discovered that the elves were correct about the tightness of the way, but tight pa.s.sages were Neko's playground, and making his way through them was how he had earned his living and no little part of his reputation. In darkness, he crawled deeper into the earth, sc.r.a.ping through ever smaller s.p.a.ces that made his burden even more an inconvenience than the blindfold. To deal with that he unslung the bag and pushed it ahead of him as he went.

The air was at first cool and damp, but no more than was natural. As he progressed, however, it became drier and warmer than it should be. His skin began to p.r.i.c.kle.

At last, Neko emerged into an open s.p.a.ce. It was large, but he had none of the sense of vastness he had felt in other caverns. A hint of light touched the edges of the blindfold. His skin began to itch, and he wondered if he was feeling the workings of the place's defensive magic. Was the blindfold doing its work? He would know if he removed it, but then he would forfeit the protection the elves had said it offered.

Neko felt a sense of peace in the chamber, not the sort of thing one would expect if magics were seeking to deny an intruder. Curious. The satchel in his hand vibrated slightly, the' object reacting to something in front of him. He took a step forward and the vibrations increased. Step by cautious step, he moved forward, following the ebb and flow of his burden's vibrations, always moving in the direction of the strongest. He finally noticed that at one spot any movement seemed to result in a lessening of the vibrations. This, then, was the spot. He lay the satchel down, opened the flap, and reached in. Without removing the object, he began to unwrap it. The sense of peace lessened as he peeled away layer after layer of what felt like cloth wrappings. Something felt wrong. Fearful that he was opening himself to danger, Neko reconsidered the wisdom of trusting the elves.

Lacking sight, he was at a disadvantage. But lacking the blindfold, he was at the mercy of the defensive magics of this place. Or so the elves had said. Even though he was supposed to be in danger here, somehow Neko did not feel threatened. The elves hid their faces, preventing him from seeing their true appearance, and in here they had him wearing a blindfold. For what reason? To protect him, they had said, but might they not have other reasons as well? A blindfold, whether magically endowed or not, served a mundane purpose; it deprived the wearer of sight. Perhaps there was something in the cavern that the elves did not wish him to see. But what?

And to whose benefit was it that he did not see whatever it was?

Theirs, most likely.

Perhaps it would be more to his advantage to see what he was not supposed to see, even though removing the blindfold might forfeit his magical protection. Having already penetrated to this place, Neko decided 70.that he no longer needed protection against the magics that would have denied him entrance.

Also, he had achieved what the elves had asked of him; he had fulfilled his job, one might say, and was now on his own time. Curiosity overcoming the last shreds of caution, he decided to remove the blindfold. Before doing so, he focused his ki as he had been taught. If this course of action were rash, he wanted to be as ready as possible. When Neko was satisfied that he was attuned to his surroundings, he stood, readying himself for the worse, then he pulled the rag away from his eyes. Nothing happened.

He opened his eyes and immediately squinted to protect his dark-accustomed eyes from the light in the chamber. Through slitted lids, he marveled at the sight of a cavern swirling with eldritch light. Strange hues sparkled and glimmered on fantastic rock formations, colors drifting across the scene like strands of fog across a lake. As his eyes adjusted somewhat, Neko could see that he stood near the center of the open s.p.a.ce, next to a large plinth of some sort. He turned his attention to it.

Sitting atop a carved wooden framework was a large, faceted crystal of remarkable clarity, its top more than a meter above his head. Each face of the translucent stone was carved with strange symbols and pictures. Though Neko did not recognize them, the symbols seemed regular enough to be writing. The pictures were strange, too, stylized in a curious, elongated way. Some were simple geometric shapes and others were complex interweavings of line that hurt his eyes when he tried to follow their convolutions. A few were more representative and seemed to be beasts of many forms, including several dragons.

Curiously, the carvings on the wooden framework that supported the stone 71.seemed cruder, as if a less skilled hand had copied them from those on the stone.

He knelt by the satchel and felt the object the elves had given him. Yes, it too was faceted and carved.

Removing the last layer of wrapping, but careful to keep the object within the satchel, he held it in his hands and peered into the bag. It was another crystal, almost a miniature version of the one that dominated the cavern, except that the elves' stone was tinted slightly red. Like the larger one, it wascarved; some of the images were similar, but most were very different from both the framework carvings and the emblems on the great crystal. The arrangement and subjects of both stones suggested that each had a different purpose. Carefully, Neko removed the stone from the satchel.

Nothing happened.