Clockwork Asylum Page 2

  Then the nylon web bag tore, ripping away from his belt. And Burnout fell into the dark canyon below. He made no sound as he fell. He simply disappeared, a dark silhouette melting into the inky void. The Dragon Heart went with him, his chrome fingers still clutching it. Still gripping the one thing Dunkelzahn had said could save the world.

  The Dragon Heart was an orb of solid orichalcum, shaped like a real four-chambered heart. It was a magical tool of such awesome power that Ryan couldn't even comprehend its true purpose. Dunkelzahn had left Ryan with instructions to take it to the metaplanes, to the site where the magic level had spiked artificially high after the Great Ghost Dance. He was supposed to give the Dragon Heart to the woman who protected the site, to Thayla.

  Now, standing on the cliff edge, and breathing in the hot morning air, Ryan gave a harsh laugh. Dunkelzahn couldn't even save himself, he thought. If a great dragon can't prevent himself from being assassinated, how does he expect a simple human to save the whole fragging world?

  Ryan hard-swallowed a bite of his protein bar and tried to push all the images and distractions from his mind.

  Dunkelzahn was dead and no amount of bitterness and anger would bring him back. It was better to try and stay focused on the task at hand.

  Burnout's body will show up, he thought. Can't hide that much metal forever.

  In addition to Dhin's drones, the decker Jane-in-the-box was using satellites to scan for the machine corpse. Plus the two samurais, Axler and Grind, had set up remote surveillance sites.

  We'll find him when he drifts into a shallow area.

  But it was hard to stay focused. The mood around the compound was starting to get ugly. Even though Axler and company were some of the most pro-level mercenaries it had been Ryan's pleasure to work with, they were shadowrunners, not a search and rescue team. They wanted action, not the numbing task of trying to find the proverbial needle in the fragging haystack.

  Ryan couldn't agree more. The last thing he wanted was to waste any more time in the search for Burnout and the Dragon Heart. He wanted to finish the construction on the Assets compound, hire some more mercs and runners, and get his forces gathered. He wanted to organize and begin delving into the assassination of Dunkelzahn. So far, no one had any clue to who did it.

  And it slotted Ryan off that he was stuck here when he could be helping bring the assassins to justice.

  His wristphone beeped, pulling him from his angry self-recrimination. He looked at the small screen, which indicated that it was Jane-in-the-box on the line. Dunkelzahn's decker and a sometime member of the Assets, Inc. team. He took a breath and punched the connect.

  Instantly, the tiny vidscreen filled with a cartoon image—a tangle of lion-blonde locks, doe-innocent blue eyes, and a set of the largest breasts this side of a BTL porn chip, barely covered by a black leather halter laced up the front with tiny silver chains. The icon was a sharp contrast to the Jane-in-the-box Ryan knew from real life—a plain-looking human woman of about thirty-five with scraggly brown hair and a skinny body.

  Ryan knew that Jane's physical location was deep inside Dunkelzahn's lair in Lake Louise. She rarely left the lair, nestled deep in the stone heart of the old Canadian Rockies, now part of the Athabaskan Council. Frag, she rarely left the cavernous room where she had decked for Dunkelzahn all those years. She even had food delivered

  —when she ate at all.

  Ryan had seen her custom set of decks and gadgetry; he had seen her enter the trance that allowed Dunkelzahn to see the Matrix through her mind, telepathically. He had even ridden along once.

  "Hello, Jane," he said.

  Jane's Matrix icon smiled at Ryan, flashing perfectly white teeth. "Ryan, it's good to see you eating something."

  Her full, gloss-black lips turned downward in a sneer. "Even if it is that soy-supplement drek."

  Ryan looked down at the remainder of his protein bar and absently shoved the last of it into his mouth. Through chews, he spoke, "You're advising me on diet? That's rich."

  Jane laughed.

  "What's biz, Jane?"

  "Couple bits. First, I followed up on the magical support you requested, though the pickings are slim right now. All the top names on my A-list are otherwise occupied, but I managed to contact one of the top names on my B-list. I think you know her actually."

  "What's her name?"

  "Miranda."

  Ryan thought. "I don't know any runners by that name."

  Jane smiled at him. "She has only recently joined the ranks of the independently employed. Which is the main reason she hasn't been moved up to my A-list. By all accounts, she can light up the mana with the very best of the best, but she's green about the shadows. Up until a month ago, she worked as a high-placed wage mage for Fuchi IE."

  "Miranda Everli?" Ryan asked.

  "Just Miranda now," Jane said.

  Ryan took a breath, remembering his two-month under-cover stint at Fuchi under the false name of Travis W. Saint John. He recalled working alongside some of the best scientists and mages in the corporate world. One of those mages was Miranda Everli, a petite human with Nihonese features.

  Ryan had liked her, and under other circumstances, they might have been close. But he was an undercover operative, and knew better than to form emotional attachments to anyone.

  Miranda hadn't been a typical corporate. She had a wild, independent streak to her. And perhaps that was why they had become friends. After several weeks of working closely together, she had finally confessed her frustration with the corp bureaucracy.

  Ryan's cover hadn't allowed him to admit he sympathized. Hadn't allowed him to tell her he was planning to be extracted by shadowrunners and placed inside Aztechnology.

  Ryan was glad she'd made it out. He'd be happy to see her, but he was concerned about her ability to perform outside the corporate environment. He looked at his wrist-phone. "Is she the best you can come up with?"

  Jane nodded, sending her blonde locks flying. "I know this isn't a good time to be breaking in someone new, but with McFaren gone, you need a magical arm."

  Ryan knew she was right. McFaren had been the Assets mage until a few days ago when he'd died in the run against the Atlantean Foundation—an organization reportedly searching for the lost city of Atlantis, but that seemed more interested in recovering all kinds of magical artifacts. By whatever means necessary.

  Members of the Atlantean Foundation had stolen the Dragon Heart from Dunkelzahn's lair, and McFaren had been instrumental in helping Ryan get it back.

  Jane went on. "Miranda's the best you're going to get right now. The shadows are hot in the shakedown from the Big D's death, and good mages are even rarer than normal since they have their pick of assignments."

  Ryan nodded. "Thanks, Jane. Any news on Lethe?"

  Lethe, named after the river of forgetfulness, was a powerful free spirit with a mysterious past. He had also helped Ryan recover the Dragon Heart from the Atlantean Foundation. Lethe had been missing for several days now.

  "Sorry, chummer," Jane said. "I haven't heard a fragging thing."

  Ryan wasn't sure what to make of that, but Lethe was a spirit. Who knew why a spirit might suddenly up and disappear? "Okay, what else?"

  Jane's frown turned into a soft smile. "I have a message from Nadja."

  Ryan winced as the pain in his gut doubled. "All right, give it to me."

  Jane nodded, then vanished. In her place, the delicate oval of Nadja Daviar's elven face filled the screen. Her emerald eyes were set wide, compelling and beautiful. Honest. Her long raven hair hung loose over her pointed ears.

  Her magenta-tinted lips curved into a delicious smile. "Ryan," she said, "I'm sorry this message had to be recorded. Things have gotten hectic, and it's very early in the morning here. I haven't slept yet and probably won't get to bed tonight."

  To Ryan, the tenor of her voice was like the seductive sound of a slow-moving stream, gentle and caressing. He couldn't take his eyes from her.

  "Ryan, I
know you're troubled about what happened a few days ago. I know you; you're not going to rest until you come to terms with what you did. About what it has done to us. So I think it would be best if you let the others continue the search and you came to Washington. We need to talk."

  Ryan shook his head. She was right. They needed to have a serious heart to heart about what he had done to her.

  But right now? He couldn't even let himself think about leaving. The temptation was too great.

  On the screen, Nadja's face smiled softly. "Ryan, I know you think this is a bad idea, but you need some closure on this issue. We need to get it behind us, and . . . and there are other needs we should talk about. Like my need to have you near. If you've seen the news, you know things have gone over the top around here, and I need to talk to you, face to face."

  Ryan's heart was breaking. Since Nadja had returned to Washington a few days ago, he hadn't been watching the news, had actually been trying to avoid any thought of her at all. He had been trying to convince himself that nothing mattered but his mission, nothing mattered except finding Burnout's body and recovering the Dragon Heart. Still, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Nadja and the fact that he'd nearly killed her for the Heart. His thoughts were filled with shame and regret, but it seemed as if there was nothing he could do about it.

  "Ryan, I know it would be hard for you to leave right now, but please consider my proposal. A break might be just the thing you need to put yourself in the right frame of mind to find the Heart and accomplish your goal."

  Ryan found himself listening not so much to her words, but to that soothing tone. Maybe she was right.

  "I am right about this. Think about what Dunkelzahn would have advised if he were here."

  That was the key, Ryan knew. Because he didn't have any slotting clue what Dunkelzahn would have advised.

  Perhaps Nadja's right, he thought. Perhaps she knows what the dragon wanted better than I.

  Nadja leaned in close, the screen filling up with just her eyes, sparkling like dew-covered drops of green glass.

  "Please, for both of our sakes, come back for a few days."

  The screen went dark, and Ryan found that he held his wristphone very close to his face. Instead of Nadja's face, he caught his own reflection in the black screen. Huge, bruise-colored crescents seemed to swallow his silver-flecked blue eyes, telling of days without sleep. His rugged face held the beginnings of a beard, but that did nothing to hide the gaunt hollow of his cheeks and the tight grimace that chiseled lines into his mouth and jaw.

  Ryan's wiry auburn hair was unkempt, and he ran thick, callused fingers through the tangle to smooth down some of the more errant strands. He looked like someone who needed a break.

  Suddenly, Grind's raspy voice came over the Phillips tacticom earphone—a tiny unit that fit snugly into his ear and linked by mimetic tape to a flesh-toned throat mic and transmitter unit at his belt. The Phillips was a military-type system capable of scrambling transmissions with encryptions that were very hard to break.

  "Quicksilver," Grind said, calling Ryan by his code name. "We got company coming."

  Ryan looked around, concentrating on his magically heightened sense of hearing. There, just over the rush of wind roaring through the canyon, he could make out the distinctive rhythmic thrum of helicopter rotors. "Number and distance?"

  Grind was a dwarf, a combat and weapons expert who had served in a number of mercenary efforts before catching the attention of Dunkelzahn a few years ago. He was currently manning the compound's defenses. "Three bogeys just passed the southern radar. They're coming fast, attack formation, heading directly for us."

  Ryan started running back to the entrance to the underground compound. "Have Dhin pull back his drones. Get Axler out of the canyon. I don't know who these slots are, but I want to be ready for them."

  "Copy," Grind said, with just a hint of excitement in his voice.

  Ryan made it to the newly cut entrance to the compound just as Axler swept up over the lip of the cliff in the Northrup Wasp single-man chopper. Axler landed the helo and climbed out. She walked to meet Ryan at the entrance.

  Axler was a human woman of about twenty-five. Very attractive with shoulder-length blonde hair and doe-brown eyes. Ryan knew she bore a great many cybernetic enhancements under her plycra bodysuit, but none were visible on the surface. All very discreet.

  Axler's usually hard-set expression was slack from fatigue. "I got the buzz from Grind," she said. A hint of strain behind her words told Ryan just how hard she'd been pushing herself. She was nearing the edge.

  Grind appeared at the door next to Axler. The black-skinned dwarf came up to her elbow, but was easily as wide. He was heavily muscled with obvious cyberarms painted the matte-gray color of old navy ships. Grind's afro hair was cut close to his head.

  "You two ready to lock and load?"

  "I was ready the day they cut me out of my mama's belly," said Grind, with a laugh.

  "Axler?"

  Her tone was cool. "Ready if you are."

  Ryan didn't bother to respond to the subtle insult behind her words. She hadn't given him her complete trust since he'd tried to take sole possession of the Dragon Heart and had faced off with Nadja. And Axler was slotted off because he had taken the leadership of Assets Inc. away from her. She hadn't said anything overt, but Ryan knew. Axler was an excellent general, but not such a good soldier.

  Ryan put all that out of his mind and got to biz. "All right," he said. "We've got three unknown bogeys in an offensive posture. If they attack from the air, we'll blow them out of the sky. Dhin?"

  The ork rigger's voice sounded calm and steady over the tacticom. "Ready to go drones-up at your signal."

  "Copy. If they're hostile, Dhin's drones will take point, and we'll smoke them in a standard one by two, starting with the lead craft."

  "Copy," said Grind and Axler in unison.

  "If they land, we'll play it straight. Remember, Jane has registered us as an official weather observation station. So we'll take that angle."

  Suddenly, the three helicopters broke the horizon, coming up over the rim of the canyon wall. And they weren't ordinary helos. Ryan recognized all three as Aztechnology Aguilar-EX military choppers. Very high-powered, lots of weapons and extremely expensive. They had ridden with sound suppression and had come in against the wind so that Ryan hadn't known they were so close until it was too late.

  These people are professionals.

  "Frag it!" Ryan keyed his wristphone. "Dhin, you got them?"

  Dhin's rumbling growl wasn't quite as calm as it had been. "Yeah. What the frag are they doing here already?"

  "I got a bad feeling about this, folks. Stay sharp. Especially you, Dhin. If things get ugly, you need to put enough firepower in the air to stop that drek from getting anywhere near us."

  "Making no promises, Bossman. The Azzies build one tough bird, but at the very least, I'll be able to slow them down."

  Ryan watched as the three attack helicopters made their first pass. Like giant insects they buzzed past the cliff face, the red jaguars painted on their sides glittering in the sun. They broke from their attack formation. The lead helicopter made for the landing pad, while the other two took up defensive positions, hovering near the far wall of the canyon.

  Dust from the landing pad twisted into a small cyclone as the big chopper settled its weight on the duracrete. The pilot cut the engines, and the flying dirt settled back to earth. The small hatch on the near side of the chopper popped upward, and a small man stepped out, followed by two other humans.

  Ryan concentrated, and his vision shifted to the astral. Chromed, almost beyond the pale, he thought as he watched the dead parts of their aura. He relaxed and his vision shifted to normal.

  "Smiles, everybody," he whispered. "We're playing it straight. If things get sticky, go to diversion plan beta."

  With Axler and Grind at his back, Ryan stepped forward, forcing his lips into a wide grin.

 
The man in front was short, less than a meter and a half, stocky and muscled like a very large dwarf, but he was human. He walked briskly, his spine straight, his shoulders back, and he wore a black jumpsuit that didn't quite cover the heavy body armor underneath. The red Jaguar patch looked like a spot of dried blood over his heart.

  Everything about him screamed military, as did the bearing of the two warriors behind him. The shorter man stepped up to Ryan, his charcoal eyes sizing him up in much the same way Ryan was doing to him.

  His weather-burned face was dark, swarthy, and his toothy grin was wide, even though there was no humor behind those black eyes. The man stretched out his hand. "I'm sorry for disturbing your work, Señor," he said in a deep voice, heavy with an Aztlan accent. "This won't take long."

  Ryan shook the man's hand, which was dry and warm, the grip relaxed and friendly. Ryan forced himself to match the man's grin. "I'm in charge of station security. We don't get too many visitors. It's a nice break from the routine.

  How can we help you?"

  They both dropped the handshake at the same time. Ryan looked over the man's head to the two guards, who were scanning the area like professionals. Their body posture held a high-tension stiffness. They were ready for battle at the slightest provocation.

  Ryan just hoped Axler and Grind were pulling off the relaxed look better than their counterparts.

  The man's smile dropped. "This is a very delicate situation, and I hope I can count on your discretion."

  Ryan looked over at the Aztechnology attack chopper and nodded. "Seems like you've come quite a distance, maybe a bit too far, but I'm sure we can keep this visit quiet.

  As long as you're not here to . . . acquire any information regarding our weather satellites."

  The short man laughed, a clipped, strangled sound, as if his throat was unused to the action. "I am General Dentado, and I can assure you, Mister .. ."

  Ryan forced his grin again, "Deacon, Phillip Deacon."

  The smaller man smiled, a slow secretive gesture that indicated he saw through Ryan's facade. "I can assure you, Mister Deacon, that we have no interest in your satellites." He looked at Azler and Grind. "May I have a word with you . . . in private?"