Blink: Interdiction (Book 4)

29

Revolutionaries are always criminals, at one point in time or another.

Over half a decade ago when Darien had been running the lava canals, Kyros Bakirtzis had been the closest thing to a mentor that existed in the criminal underworld of Ravine. A few years older and a few years harder with it, the wily youth had cut his way a few rungs up into the position of a supervisor among the lower echelons. He ran his own barge, carrying everything from weapons and medical supplies to booze and pornography.

At the time Darien didn't appreciate how Kyros differed from the other canal-runners. Cared a little more; killed a little less. He managed it without standing out too much. If someone shorted a payment he'd break a finger instead of an arm. For him violence was an occasionally necessary task rather than a preferred means of enforcement.

He hadn't appreciated how lucky he'd been to be crewing Kyros's barge, not until the day their boss, Caspok, took exception to some of the young man's lenient practices and decided to show him how a real canal runner ran their ship. Big armoured goons with bigger guns took over the barge for a brutal week, during which Darien learned what it really meant to hate someone.

He could still feel the bone-cracking impact of the brute's fist against his jaw on that fateful day, their boss venting his spleen at Darien's hesitation to pitch a rival gang member over the rails and to certain death. Kyros showed how different he was by trying to stop the beatings; trying to reason with Caspok and ease the suffering of the young canal runners under his command. For his trouble he'd been shot and sent tumbling into Ravine's lava flows.

And therein lay the problem. The man sitting in front of him wasn't supposed to be alive.

"Kyros?" Darien finally managed, tilting his head slightly to one side as he scrutinized his one time comrade. "You really are Kyros Bakirtzis?"

"In the flesh."

"But you... you died."

Kyros smirked. "I guess death isn't the setback it used to be, huh?"

"No, no, I saw it," he said, still struggling to wrap his brain around what he was witnessing. "Caspok shot you! You went over the side!"

"That much is true."

"But ... how?"

"A lot of luck, I have to say." Kyros smirked and puffed mischievously on his cigarette. "The old barges we used to run? They had big outriggers. If Caspok had a brain cell between his ears he'd have known that and shot me over the stern."

"I don't get it."

"I might have gone over the side with a bullet in my chest, but I never hit the lava." There was an almost impish glee in the young man's voice as he spoke. "Landed on one of the outriggers and managed to get a hold of it before I slid off and got burned to a cinder."

"But those things are half in the lava flows!"

"Like I said – a lot of luck. Found a safe spot where I didn't get much more than splashes washing out of the flow. Stayed there for... space I don't know how long to be honest. Then moved along the rigger onto the underhull before we docked."

Darien's eyes widened in amazement. "We pulled in to Thretz ... with you underneath us?"

"More or less." Kyros shrugged. "Waited for the shift change at the dock and managed to sneak out to the town. Being the nice guy might've gotten me shot, but it also kept me alive after. The doctor in Thretz dug out the bullet, treated the burns, stitched me up and sent me on my way, no questions asked."

"And so you left?" A simmer of anger flashed across Darien's face. "You left us with that bastard?!"

The amusement faded from Kyros's face at that. "I couldn't come back, Darien, not right away. I was in a bad way even after the doc patched me up. I had to get out, lay low. I'm sorry that you got stuck with him but it took a long time for me to get back into living after that."