The Lost Puzzler Page 35

  “Play it again.”

  She laughed, “There are several of these Bit of En songs on here. Beautiful ain’t it?”

  “It’s . . .” He searched for words. “It’s like the Great Puzzle.”

  Vincha raised an eyebrow. “The what?”

  “In my dreams I see a wall of symbols, Pikok calls it the Great Puzzle.” Rafik’s eyes shone; he was seeing something other than their surroundings. “All those patterns, in the voices, can’t you hear it? And there is a hidden pattern too, I can feel it.”

  “I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “Is this some kind of Puzzler’s talk? Are you turning into Pikok?” she laughed.

  “You won’t understand. You’re not a Puzzler.” There was a hint of pride in the boy’s voice.

  “Why don’t you explain it, then?”

  He turned his head away. “Do you really want to know?”

  The CommWoman shrugged. “Sure. Why don’t you tell me what it’s like to see things other people can’t see, and I’ll explain to you what it’s like to be able to hear stuff others can’t hear.”

  “No one here really cares, you know.” His tone was flat and bitter. “They just want me to open the puzzle locks. Most of them just call me ‘key.’ They don’t even know my name.”

  Vincha fixed the boy with a long stare. “You are Rafik,” she said quietly and extended her hand, “and I’m Vincha.”

  He looked at her hand. “I know. We met on the Long Tube, remember?”

  “Yes, of course I do, but now I want to be friends with you. If you’ll accept me, that is.”

  He smiled shyly and shook her hand. It had calluses and felt rough, but at the same time, it was also warm and pleasant to the touch.

  Vincha relaxed against the wall. “So, Rafik, tell me all about yourself. Where do you come from? How did you end up here with the Keenans? Bet it’s an interesting story.”

  Rafik shrugged, “It’s a long, boring story, actually.”

  “I’ve got time.” Vincha took a bag of Skint out of her pocket. “And I am sure you don’t miss Ramm so much . . .”

  They both chuckled in unison.

  “C’mon, kid.” She playfully punched Rafik in the shoulder. “Tell me your boring story.”

  And he told her.

  49

  When Rafik woke up he was alone in a room full of empty cots. He had changed recently to another chamber, and the sun was blazing through holes in an old sheet that covered the window. It was almost midday, but he still felt tired. The night before, he had come back with the Keenan crew from a successful shallow run with weapons, ammo, and plenty of power tubes. Narona led the run and it went smoothly, but as usual Rafik found it hard to fall asleep afterwards—the Keenan crew prided themselves on their unofficial slogan of fighting hard and partying harder, and the racket they’d created was not something he could easily fall asleep to.

  Rafik rose slowly and prayed for the first time in a while.

  When he left his chamber, there was no one in the upper hallways, so he wandered downstairs, hoping to wash and eat without attracting Kurk’s attention. Rafik’s allowance was meagre compared to what the Trolls got paid, but it was enough to buy real food in the Chewing Hole. It helped that Vincha was generous with her metal. She always invited Rafik for meals, and even got him a new set of clothes that fit his “young man’s body,” as she put it. The thought still made him blush.

  Rafik’s heart missed a beat when he heard Vincha’s voice from the main room. The door was slightly ajar, and bits of conversation were spilling out together with the stench of green smoke. Normally Rafik would avoid getting close to Ramm, especially when he and Kurk were on Skint, but Vincha’s presence was out of the ordinary. He liked spending time with the CommTroll and talking to her, liked the way her red hair would twitch and curl in the air when she channelled. She was tough, she cursed a lot, and she sniffed too much Skint, but she was also friendly and warm, and, well, beautiful. Above all, Vincha was the source of the wonderful Tarakan music. They sometimes listened to it together for hours. When Vincha fell asleep he would listen to the music but also pretend to be guarding her.

  Rafik told her about life in his village and eventually about his entire adventure. He ended up talking quite a bit as Vincha listened. It was like having a friend again, like Eithan, but in a way this was much better.

  Rafik picked up the conversation as he moved slowly towards the door.

  “You owe me, Ramm. Rust, you should have waited for me,” Vincha said.

  Ramm’s voice was slurred. “You were nowhere to be found.”

  “Rust—”

  “And we had our own Comm anyways—you were not needed.”

  “Yea, I heard about that. Your guy short-circuited the moment he saw the Lizards and you lost, what, three Trolls? You should have waited for me.”

  “You were out in the green fields.”

  “Go rust, Ramm.”

  Narona tried to calm things down. “What’s done is done. Vincha, you came to us with a proposition, so let’s discuss it.”

  Rafik inched closer until he could see Vincha’s back as she stood in front of Ramm and the lieutenants of the Keenan crew.

  As she talked, the locks of her hair moved in all directions, as if caught by a great wind. He knew it was because of the Tarakan devices in her head, but the effect was still eerie.

  “It’s a bunker, untouched, buried in the southeast sector. The node can be unlocked only two times a year.”

  “How do you know these things?” Ramm sounded suspicious.

  “I have vivid dreams. You know my info’s solid, Ramm, that’s all you really need to know.”

  “Your info didn’t tell us about the nest of almost a hundred Lizards.”

  “If you had taken me on the run you wouldn’t have had to fight those Lizards, Ramm, but you just love those Troll boys fresh out of the fields—”

  “Shut up, bitch, you don’t—” Kurk growled

  “Okay, okay, enough,” Narona interrupted, sounding impatient and angry. The room fell silent. “Where exactly in the southeast sector did you say this bunker was?”

  “Oh, no rusting way . . . I made that mistake once and you took off without me. This time I’m keeping my mouth shut till we’re there.”

  “When does this rusting node open?” Ramm’s voice was muffled, and Rafik realised the commander had his visor down.

  “In three nights.”

  “Then why are you wasting my time? It can’t be done. Sandstorms are coming and Brain has locked the gates for at least a week. Locked and shut, not even a private run, nothing.”

  “I can get us in and out,” Vincha said.

  “How?”

  “The deep tunnels.”

  “Fuck you, Vincha.”

  “I know a way out,” she insisted.

  “I said fuck you.” Ramm was losing his patience.

  Narona took control of the conversation again. “No one knows the way out,” she said, “Not even Brain. Those tunnels go for miles, and they’re half collapsed. We lost some good Trolls down there.”

  “I know the way out, and I will have wheels waiting for us. Once we are out, I’ll tell you where to drive, and your Puzzler can open the lock.”

  “It could be a trap,” another voice spoke. Rafik recognised Kurk’s slow speech. He continued, “I’ve been talking to a few Trolls, heard rumours. Two crews were lost in that sector two months ago. They say it was Nakamura. That he channelled to Brain that any crew trespassing on his turf would be wiped out. That’s why we stopped patrolling there.”

  Vincha laughed. “Ramm, have you gone soft? You’re growing pets now? At least get something smart, like a rat or something, so you can teach it tricks.”

  There was a sound of a chair falling to the floor, and when Kurk spoke it sounded as if he was on his feet. “This bitch could be working for him. Leading us into a trap.”

  Vincha laughed again. “Seriously? I mean, what the hell is this ki
d doing here?”

  “He’s here because I say so,” Ramm answered.

  “Let me get this straight. I come to you with an easy way to get your hands on a lot of hardware. The sector has been abandoned because it’s far away from the Hive and there weren’t enough nodes to make it worth the trip. It’s far away from the City within the Mountain, so the chances of meeting up with Lizards are low. I tell you this, and you listen to urban legends and tales of the boogeyman? Ramm, this node is an easy way to get rich, that’s it.”

  “Easy, right?” Ramm laughed.

  “Easy as the wirings in your brain,” Vincha spat.

  That stopped his laugh abruptly, but before he could respond Vincha said, “We’ll need your Puzzler, myself, and four Keenans max. Any more than that would take up space that could be used for the goods. Fifty-fifty, I get first pick.”

  “Rust that, Vincha. Seventy-thirty and we get first pick.”

  “I could go to any other guild, and I could do it by myself.”

  Ramm laughed. “You think I’m that stupid? The other guilds are too soft to go against Brain’s lockdown, and you need our Puzzler. Without him you’ll stand outside that bunker with your thumb up your plug. And you need our protection; I don’t care what you think you know about the sector. When the Lizards come, or even that Nakamura . . .” There was the distinct sound of a large weapon being cocked.

  “Sixty-forty, I get two first picks.”

  “Seventy-thirty, you get one first pick, and that’s my final offer.”

  “Fuck you, Ramm.”

  “Get in line, but I’m not into redheads. Do we have a deal?”

  “That’s stealing.”

  “No, that’s business. Do we have a deal?”

  “I could go to other—”

  “No you can’t. Sabarra still won’t work with you after that mess you got them into, and how many guilds or independent crews have their own Puzzler and would go against Brain’s lockdown? I mean, if you want cheap, I am sure the Loot Worshippers would let you take Pi-Pi-Pikok.” Rafik heard Kurk sniggering at this.

  “Besides,” Ramm continued in a slyer tone, “I know you owe metal for all the green you’ve been sniffing. You’re a desperate little Comm bitch, Vincha, which makes you my Comm bitch. Seventy-thirty, I get first two picks now, just because you made me explain myself. Do we have a deal?”

  Vincha held her breath for a long time and then exhaled noisily. “I hope you rust slowly, Ramm. We have a deal. Make sure you’re ready when I tell you, and don’t breathe a word about this to anyone.”

  Rafik dove for cover behind a broken crate as Vincha turned and headed for the door. He must have been clearly visible, but Vincha moved with such purpose that she failed to notice him. The door to the main room stayed open.

  “It could be a trap,” Kurk said again. “I don’t trust that whore.”

  “She did just take a raw deal,” Narona said. “If what she’s saying is right, fifty percent cut and several first picks should have been her end game.”

  “She’s desperate,” Ramm said. “I know she owes serious coin, and some Trolls have been pressing her to pay up. Did you see her eyeing my supplies? Even with prices the way they are, she’s out of Skint. I gave her a raw deal and she ate it.”

  “You sure did, commander,” Kurk said.

  “But just in case, the first sign of trouble, shoot her head off.”

  50

  Rafik wanted to warn Vincha about the conversation he’d overheard, but he didn’t get a chance. Before every mission, Ramm always barred Rafik from leaving the Keenan headquarters. Worse, he ordered Kurk to shadow him.

  The time passed slowly. Rafik spent it daydreaming about the Great Puzzle and worrying about Vincha. He knew about her Skint problem, but she always claimed it was for the headache her plugs gave her. He hoped Ramm was wrong and that she didn’t owe coin to anyone. For some reason he didn’t dare explain to himself, Rafik also hoped Vincha wasn’t sleeping around.

  Playing with the wall of symbols made him feel a little better. Since almost dying in the puzzle prison, Rafik discovered that he could now enter a state of mind where he was in front of the wall and able to manipulate a hundred symbols at a time. Controlling the symbols had become intuitive, effortless, like walking or breathing, and he could even try to solve problems on the wall while thinking about other things, like Vincha, although he would sometimes come out of it with a pounding headache.

  It seemed like an eternity before Rafik was finally taken to meet Vincha at the Chewing Hole. Narona and two Troll brothers, Deesha and Goll, sat at a table, and Rafik was squeezed in between the giant bodies of Ramm and Kurk.

  “She’s late,” Narona said.

  “I’m telling you the bitch ain’t coming,” hissed Kurk. “She’s probably fucking some Troll for an ounce of Skint. There’s no way she was telling the truth about the secret stash of—”

  “Shut your rusting hole,” barked Ramm. With the lockdown, the bar was full of people and the noise level was high. Still, a few heads turned. Ramm scowled at them until they lost interest.

  “Try not to draw attention,” warned Narona. “The last thing we need is for Brain to—”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” Ramm snapped as his giant metal hand, which was resting on the table, closed into a fist. Narona grimaced but sipped her drink in silence after that.

  One of the barmaids approached the table, tray full of drinks.

  It was Narona’s turn to snap. “We don’t need any more. Leave us alone.”

  The barmaid carefully placed a small metal box on the table. “This is from Vincha.”

  “What? Is this a joke?” Kurk scowled. The barmaid was already walking away.

  Ramm took the box. In his huge hand it seemed smaller than it really was.

  “It’s a trap, I’m telling you,” Kurk said.

  “Don’t short a circuit, Kurk. It’s not a trap,” Narona countered.

  Ramm tried to pry the box open, but despite his considerable strength, the lock didn’t budge.

  “It’s a puzzle box,” Rafik said. “There’s a place for fingers”—he pointed—“see?”

  Ramm slammed the box down in front of Rafik. “Open it, then.”

  Rafik pulled the box closer. It was surprisingly light. He looked it over carefully. The three holes were cleverly concealed, but he’d noticed them immediately. As he examined the holes, they grew larger. He felt drawn to them. Soon they filled his vision. He watched his tiny fingers reach out to the giant holes, and then he was falling.

  The puzzle was waiting for him. It was so easy he felt disappointed—with only one, short pattern strand—and he was done in the blink of an eye. The lock clicked open, and he was about to withdraw his fingers when out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a strange symbol. It was like nothing he’d seen before. He turned his head and reached out to the symbol, which left the wall and landed near Rafik’s feet. Without thinking he stepped on the symbol and watched the puzzle wall change. It suddenly had depth. Several layers of semi-invisible symbols materialised behind the original wall. He quickly found a pattern. Each symbol became a block. He stepped forward onto one, and then another, then through the wall of symbols to the other side, where a door stood waiting for him.

  Rafik opened the door and stepped into a room made of solid grey walls. As soon as the door closed an image appeared in the centre of the room.

  “Vincha . . .”

  “There’s not much time.” Her eyes didn’t focus on Rafik. “I’m glad you found your way to me. This was the safest place for me to leave you a message.”

  Rafik’s first question would have been How did you manage to work a puzzle box? But he knew that the image was just a message, not the real Vincha, which also meant he couldn’t warn her about Ramm.

  “I know you’re unhappy here,” Vincha’s visage said. “You suffer because you’re only seen as an object to exploit. I know that you’re trapped, a slave, just a key . . .
” She shook her head. “There is a way out for you. For both of us. All I ask is for you to trust me. I want the best for both of us, as I’m going to show you now with this message. Take what’s in the box, walk out of the bar, take the first three left turns, and go down two levels. Follow the right corridor and take the fifth left. There is a large stain on the wall just before the turn, so look for it. When you reach the top of the stairs, put what I left in the box on the ground. You must hurry. Come immediately.”

  The room blinked out immediately after Vincha uttered the last word and Rafik was back at the table.

  “Took your time. I was beginning to rust here,” Kurk said.

  “It was a hard lock,” Rafik answered in what he hoped was a casual tone of voice, but avoided looking at Kurk.

  “Or maybe you’re not such a good key after all.”

  Ramm snatched the box and opened it. “What’s the bitch doing?” He fished out a pink rubber ball. “I’ll shoot her head off if she’s playing a joke on us.”

  “I know what it is. We have to go now,” Rafik said.

  “What? How?” Ramm’s only natural eye looked down at the boy with unveiled suspicion.

  Rafik hesitated. Part of him wanted to warn Ramm about Vincha, to prove to the Keenan commander that he was loyal, one of the team, and gain his trust and respect. Ramm would kill Vincha for sure, but Rafik also knew that he was leading the crew into something unexpected. For all his faults, Kurk was right this time—it really was a trap.

  “The puzzle told me,” he said. “We have to go now or the whole thing will be cancelled.”

  “We don’t even have our full run gear,” Kurk protested. “We should at least go back and get it.”

  Ramm looked hesitant.

  “You have your weapons, right?” Rafik nodded towards Kurk’s power rifle, then pointed at himself. “And you’ve got your Puzzler. We must hurry. We must go now.” He ducked under the table. “Follow me,” he said and walked away without looking back.