Chapter 17
The charred building ruins still smoldered, reminding Gezi of the hellish firelight that had taken two days for Ridderth’s frigid rains to quench. It had been eight days since the raids.
The gold-skinned, lion-maned woman driving the ground hauler cleared her throat. “Chief Wutala, you’re top boss, but being here is lamb odds.”
The true concern in Tycall’s voice made Gezi forgive her for suspecting that grief and rage were making Gezi take na?ve chances like she was a noob in a flash-cash casino looking to be shorn.
The woman was her new security chief. Her former chief and twelve of her people had been obliterated in microseconds. The spectacular destruction of both her labs during the CPS raids had become the iconic vids for the stories that still topped the planet-wide newstrends.
Gezi would bet her favorite neurowhip that the “minder-rights terrorist” targets mostly consisted of people the CPS found inconvenient. Just like all their previous raids and purges. Ridderth’s history with them stretched back for decades.
Gezi waved toward the ruin. “Whoever did this isn’t baiting me into the open.
Message already delivered.” The blackened slag heaps that used to be her building and its neighbors looked slimy in the rain.
“Unlike the sodding amateurs who torched the original building, this was done by pros.” She shook her head.
“If they’d wanted me dead, I’d already be cremated. ”
Tension tried to creep into her neck. She released the tension in her ribs to let air into her lungs. “Which is why I think it’s not the CPS. The building coordinates weren’t on the leaked target list. More to the point, they aren’t taking credit for it.”
Tycall’s modified tongue swirled around one of her enlarged canine teeth. “E’nilsama crew and Temru Ice busy fighting over Gatesea North. Daringos, maybe? They nibbling all the time and don’t like paying the turf penalties.”
Gezi snorted. “Daringos wouldn’t know a detonator from a doorknob.”
She made herself memorize the details of the devastation, as she had with her other lab. No one believed in ghosts anymore, but just in case, she told them her vow.
Whoever targeted her would pay in double blood. She’d see to it personally and make sure it was done right.
Besides the dead, nineteen others had been seriously injured, including her beloved Khenzan. He had at least another week in the med center and would need more rehab after that.
In her own way, she loved all of her crew. They weren’t a wealthy dynasty or even a family corporation, but they believed in loyalty. As a result, multi-cribbers like the twisted dead man from a few weeks ago were rare.
Tycall sank her extended claws into the seat’s padded arm. “Ridrats, then. They always lookin’ to shred us.”
“Maybe.” Tycall was right about the Ridderth police using any opportunity — legal or not — to smash the crews. Security vids from her labs showed distortion hoods and glimpses of brown like the tunics worn by the Ridderth Police, but it didn’t feel right.
The sloppy Ridrats didn’t care who saw their assault-response units engaging in broadscale urban demolition. In fact, they usually recorded the action themselves and sold the vids to the media. Top-trend stories made them look like they were doing their jobs.
The timing was exquisite. Both her labs had blown orbit-high because they’d been filled with supplies that had been delivered the night before.
Pharmas and their mercenaries specialized in surgical precision, but they also liked their messages clear and unequivocal. No gain in churning someone’s gut with fear if they didn’t know who not to fuck with again.
Gezi turned away from the destruction. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go.”
Her new temporary office — the relocation made out of prudence — was closer to the edge of her physical territory than she liked. However, it was closer to the med center to which she’d entrusted Khenzan and some of the injured. She’d be seeing all of them again tomorrow.
Tycall synced the hauler with the traffic control system, then watched attentively as they merged smoothly with the rest of the street traffic.
Her hands were steady, but she glanced repeatedly at the custom weapons controls, as if assuring herself they were still primed and ready.
She cleared her throat. “Want me to start looking for recruits?” Her left shoulder twitched.
“I figure we need flash glow for cash flow.”
Gezi thanked the diamond stars that Khenzan and a top sifter had already vetted Tycall, and that the young woman was smart and took her job seriously. Tycall was right about the crew needing to look resilient and healthy, or they’d have long-term cash flow issues.
“Yeah, but get referrals and do double ‘path and sifter screens.” Unlike some other crews, Gezi was happy to use telepaths and sifters to weed out potential trouble. She tapped to activate her percomp. “We’ll be stepping up our other lines of business. No-questions specialist medics don’t come free.
Neither do arsenals, if we have to go to war.
” It was the last thing she wanted, especially considering how volatile the city had been of late.
But letting the attack go unanswered wasn’t an option.
Tycall nodded in agreement. “I’ll keep hunting. Got naaks in a media company or two.” Tycall’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe it was an angle shot, wanting a slice of our construction enforcement or hostile delivery businesses. I’ll increase security for all our ops.”
Gezi nodded. “Check personal revenge, too. Five years back, in case someone is both pissed and patient.” Mentally picturing her balance sheet, she added, “In the meantime, offer bulk-purchase discounts to good customers who pay up front.”
Tycall nodded. “Will you rebuild the labs?”
“We’ll see,” Gezi hedged.
Actually, she probably would. The labs had paid for themselves after only a few weeks of production, and she still had the formulas.
This time, she’d spread out the manufacturing line to make it harder to find and more costly to destroy.
Cheap and abandoned buildings littered Ridderth’s sprawling metropolis.
And thanks to the raids, more had just come onto the market.
Besides being a good business, making minder-drug reverses was a public service. She was all about giving the public what they wanted. For a price, of course.