Dirty Work: Volume 2

Story Three - Speed Demon - 4

Initially I had thought to head to Chorus' place to consult Spyder on the stolen Zoomus; I was certain he'd have something on it. However on second thought I decided that it might be wiser to try and sniff it out for myself. Spyder was someone I'd turn to if I myself was trying to steal the Zoomus. This didn't concern him. It was something I was doing on my own.

Heading down to the pits I messaged Grasslea. 'Boss,' I said with my head stuck into the light. 'I'm working on something, but it might not pay off.'

'What are you up to, Xayne?' he asked, turning to motion to somebody out of sight.

'He'll listen to you about an offer if I find a stolen Zoomus within two days. It's the best I could do; he wouldn't even let me present an offer.'

'What's his beef?'

'Doesn't like clubs,' I said as I entered the pass code that Draddas had given me. 'Had some bad run-ins with them in the past, apparently.' The energy barrier dissipated and I entered the pit lane. The white lights were on above me, the entire place looking like a dentist's surgery. The garages sparkled in their new wrappings and I could still smell fresh paint in the air. In it was the faint tang of Obsidiguld, proof that this was Halo's domain, if ever there was proof needed.

'Damn corporate assholes,' the boss said. 'I absolutely despise businessmen.'

'Aren't you a businessman yourself?' I asked with a glint in my eye.

'I run a business,' he said. 'Completely different situation.'

I nodded my agreement, flashing a small card at a mechanic looking in my direction. He nodded back and continued working on a light fitting in one of the garages.

'So what ideas have you got, Xayne?'

'None so far,' I told him, 'except I want to do this very much off the record. I don't want anyone involved unless I call for help myself. Including Markro and Ashrore and the likes. This one is mine.'

The boss acknowledged with a twinkle of his eye. I'd got myself into this without asking anyone else, and I was going to see it through. 'Understood. Let me know if you need any help,'

'You got it, boss,' I said, closing down the Halo-Core. The night air was cool and goose bumps threatened to break out all over my flesh. I pulled my coat in tighter and wandered down to the entrance of pit lane, where the rider that had been circling the track like a lone buzzard was just pulling in. He stopped in front of the garage right at the end of the pits and stepped off. He touched a large metal collar around his neck. His face became clearer as Halo's new energy helmet design faded away.

I stopped. Didn't I recognise him? I wasn't sure, but there was a way his hair seemed to part at a jaunty angle, at odds with the almost feminine curves of his cheekbones, that struck a chord with me. Perhaps he had attended the club before? It was certainly possible, though I had been waiting the tables enough to know that I would be able to place him instantly if that was the case.

I stood a ways back from him, crossing the track and jumping up onto the pit wall. Standing in the shade of one of the gantries I touched the Halo-Chip by my ear and massaged the flesh. A list of options seemed to hover before my eyes, and it took a while to register that they were simply on my retina, and not actual holograms. I'd used the chip a little, but not too much. Biotechnology always seemed rather dodgy to me, but I was sure I'd get used to it.

I looked down to the bottom of my eyes and the menu scrolled. I blinked and, with a quick but clumsy manipulation of the system, took a snapshot of the rider's face. I turned to look out to the track, the grandstands nothing compared to the domineering sight of the apartment towers that surrounded the track. Flicked through a few more settings and sent the image to Markro.

'Couldn't run this guy through the systems that survived, could you?' I asked.

I waited for a reply before moving off. I didn't want to be recognised, if I did know him, or look like I was investigating him too heavily. The fact I knew him from somewhere was a red flag from the outset. I very rarely get to know people that are good at heart, or have people's best intentions in mind.

After five minutes of waiting I resumed my journey down the pits, heading for the rider's garage. I went over in my head what I would say to him. I didn't really know. I was still trying to place his face.

My Halo-Core buzzed. 'Markro. Who is he?'

'You know him,' he said, 'but not from the club. You know when you and Ashrore did that drop in the sewers and have that run-in with the junkie?'

My mind flashed me images of being cramped, down in the dark, the shrivelled, wraith-like image of a man with grizzled eyes and rabid teeth staring back at me. 'Yeah,' I said. 'I remember. I thought we'd wasted him?'

'You had. This guy's name is Ronny Berwhal. He's one of the guys you were exchanging with.'