[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.No, it was just lucrative trade and after all, his best customers were prominent politicos.He even had his own disposal network.He was a master magician.After they had served their purpose, Yuri could make these little ciphers completely disappear.It was smooth and constant business with an endless commodity supply.What could be wrong with that?‘Yes, what could be wrong with it? Exactly what?’ Clay asked himself.Up until these last few weeks, he had never questioned the way things were.After all, you couldn’t fight the weather, could you? He realized that he had a nest of cliches in his head.‘The way things were was the way things were’ and ‘It is was what it is’ and even his denfather’s little homilies like; ‘Life’s a bitch and then you die’.It dawned on him that he’d never seriously thought about things within a moral framework because he’d never had a moral framework.He thought about recent conversations with John and Skye.Maybe he hadn’t got very far in his understanding, but some things had started to come into focus.He’d begun to see that these people were not passive and accepting of the prevailing worldview.Their whole lives were clearly in opposition to it.They saw things as being either in keeping with the created order or not.Certain actions were not in harmony with the laws of creation and so, for them it was simple; these behaviours were wrong.The more he thought things over, the clearer it became.The reason dealing with Yuri and his associates upset him was because what they did was wrong.Maybe he couldn’t touch or see the dividing line between right and wrong, but that boundary was there nonetheless.Right and wrong were realities.Some things may not have been obvious to his physical senses but that didn’t make them any the less real.Another, higher reality had started to impress itself upon him.Maybe he had tuned it out before, but this previously unheeded force was making itself felt.It certainly wasn’t entirely comfortable, especially when light from this newly discovered window started to fall onto his own life.WHITNEYWhitney met him with relief written all over his face.He buzzed Clay inside as soon as he recognized him.“Have you got them?” he asked, wide eyed.“Yeah, sure,” Clay said, opening his case.“Good,” the other sighed, tearing the cap from a blue biomed container.The sleeveless vest he wore revealed a painful looking wound on the upper side of his left arm.The skin was badly torn and there was seepage around the site.He aimed the aerosol, spraying the area thoroughly.Next he positioned a field dressing, wincing at the sting of the applied medication.Clay helped him secure it in place.“Why did you call me? Couldn’t you get this stuff anywhere else?” Clay queried, unpacking the rest of the small consignment onto a counter.“The less they know the better,” said Whitney.“It’s a show of weakness if they know you’ve been hit.”“How’d you get that?” asked Clay looking at the damaged arm.It had been dark when Whitney arrived at the location he’d been given.He’d slipped from the terraglide and used his electronic foolkey to go quietly inside the building block.A second piece of key magic got him noiselessly past the door of the apartment and he stepped into the gloom.The only light in the tiny living chamber was the faint glow of a viewscreen on a low table.Outlined in its greenish tint he could see the figure on the couch with a pulserod pointed straight at him.“Come to collect?” came a sneering laugh.“Collect this!”Whitney threw himself sideways, crashing to the floor in a mantle of broken furniture.The first charge punched a half metre gash in the wall above him.He fired back from the floor as the mark’s second charge streaked blue.He felt a shocking burning in his arm before he passed out.He’d come around in a world of pain.The chair in the corner of the room was smouldering and he gagged on the fumes.In front of him, smoke was also rising from the man on the couch.The figure was now bent forward and he could see that his discharge had struck the man in the abdomen.The smell was awful.Coughing, he reached out and removed the pulserod from the victim’s hand.He clicked the safety on and tried to get to his feet.Waves of dizziness washed over him and he tried to steady himself on the arm of the couch.He had not anticipated this kind of reception.No one was supposed to expect his arrival.He was just a shadow that appeared out of nowhere.Now, he was a wounded shadow and there wasn’t much call for those in his line of work.He had to get out of there fast.The journey back to his den had been agony.He knew that he needed treatment, but that it had better be discreet.If his employers got wind of a hit hitman, he might soon himself be visited by shadows.Whitney handed the comp to Clay once he’d made settlement.Clay threw it into the case.“How’d you get into that line?” he asked Whitney.“What? I just did.It’s what I trained for.I was a Polibro officer for eight tours.That’s a lot of killing; ideal background for this work.Most of the people who carry out these assignments are ex-Polibros.Politicos like proven formulas
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]