Dark Light (27 page)

“Hey, Tony, you feel anything—?” he began.

He never finished the sentence. The dark whirlpool brushed against the back of his head. He jerked violently and crumpled, unconscious.

“Shit, Mac.” The other man started forward. “What's wrong?”

Then he saw the whirling waves of night. He tried to run, but it was too late. The night fire touched him on the shoulder, a dark ghost come calling. He went down.

The other two guards had begun to realize that there was a problem. One of them raised a small device, but while he was trying to decide where to aim it, Ray's ghost, a bolt of green lightning took him out. He went down. The generator fell from his hands. Fontana quickly singed the other guard.

None of the guards had tried to rez their own ghosts, Fontana noted. They were Riders, not hunters.

He dropped from the tree and ran toward the two men he had fried. Ray did the same with his own targets.

Working fast and keeping an eye on the entrance to the ruin, they yanked knives, bats, and any amber they could find off the fallen men. Fontana found a key on one of the victims that looked like it could de-rez leg irons.

When he straightened, he saw the four chained prisoners watching him with expressions that ranged from amazement to wide grins. He motioned them to silence. They were hunters. They took his order immediately.

One of them jerked a finger toward the glowing entrance of the ruin and held up two fingers, indicating the number of guards inside the ruin.

Fontana tossed the key to the nearest prisoner and took up a position on one side of the opening. Ray flattened himself on the opposite wall.

Two more prisoners emerged from the building, leg chains rattling. They saw the downed guards and halted for a couple of seconds in confusion. One of the other four prisoners outside beckoned to them and made a zipping motion across his mouth.

The two men seemed to get the message immediately, just as the other four had. They started toward their companions.

Sensing something amiss, one of the two remaining guards came to the narrow entrance. He saw the four guards on the ground. Instead of retreating into the relative safety of the ruin, he leaped to a false assumption.

“You stupid juicers,” he snarled at the prisoners, “you think you can get away with this? In case you haven't figured it out, you can all be replaced. Lots more where you came from.”

He never noticed the shimmer of dark light in the air beside him, never saw Fontana and Ray.

He jerked once and dropped to the ground. Fontana grabbed the generator. Ray moved through the entrance, low and fast. There was a muffled shout. Green energy flashed once inside the alien structure, and then there was silence.

Ray reappeared. “All clear. Wait'll you see what's inside this place.”

“Any more of these gizmos?” Fontana asked, holding up the two generators.

“No.”

One of the hunters had succeeded in freeing himself from the leg irons. He handed the key to another man and limped toward Fontana and Ray. When he got closer it was clear that he was shivering; not from reaction, Fontana realized, but from a high fever.

“You're Fontana, ain't you?” he wheezed. “Heard 'em talkin' about the new boss.”

“I'm Fontana. Who are you?”

“Arnie Lewis.” Arnie broke off, coughing. When he recovered, he looked at the device, grimacing. “Nasty gadgets. You can set 'em for high, medium, or low. Low setting knocks a man unconscious for a few hours. Worse yet, it zaps your psi senses for at least two, sometimes three days. Makes it impossible to rez any ghost light. They used those things on us every forty-eight hours to make sure none of us could surprise 'em with some green fire.”

Fontana studied the generator. “What do the other settings do?”

“Medium puts you into a coma.” Arnie shrugged. “Sometimes you come out of it. Sometimes you don't. High kills you flat-out dead. They were fixing to use it on me in a day or two because I'm getting too sick to be of any use. Don't have what you'd call a top-notch Guild medical plan down here.”

Fontana looked at the four fallen men. “All of these guys are Riders?”

“Yeah,” Arnie said.

“How many of those ultraviolet generators are floating around?” Fontana asked.

“From what we can tell, they found six of them when they opened up this place. There's always two down here with the bastards who watch the bottling crew. The other two go with the sons of ghosts who guard the transport team. They're on their way back to the surface now. In between times they use those two to pick up fresh labor.”

Ray looked at Fontana. “Probably the same two they used to ambush you in the tunnels.”

“That's four,” Fontana said. “What about the other two?”

A second man had unlocked his chains. His greasy, shoulder-length hair was tied back with a leather thong. Like the others, his clothes were ragged and filthy. But his eyes were clear and steady.

“I've been keeping track,” he said. “The Riders have four in all. It was part of the deal Jenner cut with the gang. We're sure that Jenner himself kept one generator. Don't know what happened to it after he died, though.”

“That's five,” Fontana said. “What about the sixth?”

The man looked at the others. They all shook their heads.

Fontana examined the device. “Can anyone activate one of these things, or does it take a special kind of psi talent?”

“Anyone who can rez a toaster can use one of those damn ray guns,” one of the men said. “The Riders love'em. Said it meant that for the first time folks who couldn't work ghost light had some real firepower underground. Said it meant that the Guild no longer had a monopoly down here.”

“The generators work aboveground, too,” one of the men added.

“I know,” Fontana said. “Found that out the hard way. We're going to have to find the rest of these things as fast as possible. But first we have to get Arnie some medical attention and secure this place. Then we have to make arrangements with the Crystal police to pick up the transport team.”

The rest of the hunters, freed of their restraints, gathered around.

“So you're Fontana?” The man with the tied-back hair surveyed him closely.

“That's right.”

“I'm Tanner. Jake Tanner.”

“Glad to meet you. The Guild owes you. If you hadn't left those coordinates in that miniature dressing room, we'd still be searching for all of you.”

Jake grinned. “I was living in a juice dream at the time, but I figured that if I went missing like the others, Elvis and Sierra would get someone to come looking for me. Never expected them to send the big boss, himself.”

 

 

A SHORT TIME LATER FONTANA STOOD WITH RAY AND Jake inside the alien ruin. Together they studied the five tall, ethereally graceful green quartz fountains that occupied the space. Each fountain was surrounded by a wide pool of sparkling, effervescent, psi-green water. There was so much hot psi in the chamber that the hair on the nape of Fontana's neck lifted. All of his senses were rezzed.

“What do you suppose the aliens did with the waters from those fountains?” Ray asked softly.

Jake shrugged. “Maybe they used it for the same reason I did.”

“Why did you use the juice?” Fontana asked.

“To see things,” Jake said. “Incredible things.”

“SORRY TO SURPRISE YOU LIKE THIS,” NICK BURNS SAID. “I can see that Fontana hasn't told you much about his family.”

“We haven't had a lot of time to get to know each other,” Sierra said, choosing her words cautiously. “Ours was what you might call a whirlwind courtship. As I recall, he said something about not having any family.”

Nick exhaled wearily. “You could probably be married to him for fifty years and not hear anything about us, at least not from him.”

They were sitting in the small conference room adjacent to the newsroom. The door was closed for privacy, but Sierra could see her colleagues through the windows. They all appeared to be hard at work, but she knew that you could hear a pin drop in the outer room. Everyone was straining so hard to eavesdrop it was a wonder people weren't falling out of their chairs. The only one who appeared unconcerned was Elvis. He was in his balloon basket, floating toward the coffee-and-doughnuts table.

She lowered her voice. “Maybe you should wait until Fontana is back in his office. He's a little busy at the moment.”

“I know. I went to Guild headquarters first. He's been ignoring my phone calls for a couple of weeks. I hoped to catch him off guard. But his executive assistant told me that he was unavailable.”

“He's away on Guild business,” she said somberly.

“Look, I'll be honest with you, there's a good chance he won't give me the time of day when he does get back from wherever it is he went. That's why I came here to see you.”

“I really don't think he would refuse to see someone from his own family,” she said quickly.

“You don't know him very well, do you? I suppose that's typical of Marriages of Convenience. People don't go into them for the long haul, so why check out the family?”

Enough was enough. “Let's get something straight here, Mr. Burns. I am Fontana's wife, and as such I am quite prepared to be polite to members of his family. I am not about to let said family members insult me or my husband or our marriage.”

He blinked and then reddened. “Sorry. I didn't mean—”

“What you should keep in mind here is that, while I know almost nothing about you, you, in turn, know very little about me or the reasons for my marriage to your brother.” She smiled coolly. “Just what you've read in the papers, right?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“We all know how much you can trust the press.”

Nick cleared his throat. He glanced uneasily at the copy of the previous day's edition of the
Curtain
lying on the table. The glaring headline read, “Guild Boss and Bride Vanish. Kidnapped by Aliens?”

“Right,” he said.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Are you kidding? You and Fontana are headline news in the tabloids in Cadence as well as here in Crystal.”

“I was afraid of that.” She folded her hands together. “What can I do for you, Mr. Burns?”

His mouth tightened at the corners in a way that reminded her of Fontana.

“I won't play games, with you,” he said. “My family needs Fontana's help, and they need it very badly. My mother is so desperate she tried to contact him herself several times in the past month. On each occasion Fontana's executive assistant made it clear that Fontana was unavailable to take the call.”

“I see.” This was worse than she had realized.

“If you knew my mother, you'd know how much pride she had to swallow in order to make those calls. Fontana is the result of an affair my father had years ago. She's always had a difficult time accepting him.”

“I understand,” she said quietly.

“Look, you're family now, so I'm going to tell you a big family secret.” Nick leaned forward and spoke in very low tones. “Burns & Co. is in serious trouble. A year ago my father died. He stunned everyone when he left controlling interest to Fontana. But Fontana turned around and shocked everyone all over again when he declined his inheritance.”

“Declined?”

“Just walked away from it.” Nick waved one hand. “Blew it off. Cold as ice. Like Burns & Co. meant nothing to him.”

“Well, maybe it doesn't. He hasn't ever been involved with the firm, has he?”

“No, but that's not the point. That company was my father's life. And he left Fontana in charge of it. That should have meant
something
, damn it.”

“Please calm down,” she said gently.

Nick took a visible grip on his emotions. His tone steadied. “At the time everyone in the family was enormously relieved to find out that Fontana didn't want the company. But then my brother, Josh, took over the firm, and we learned the truth. Burns & Co. is on the verge of bankruptcy.”

“I'm very sorry, but I really don't know what you expect me to do.”

“You've got to help me convince Fontana to save Burns,” Nick said. “If he doesn't do something fast, a lot of people are going to get hurt.”

“The members of your family?”

“Sure, but it isn't just my family that will take a hit. If the company goes under, several hundred people will lose their jobs. Look, we just need time. Fontana is the only one who can hold things together financially until Josh can get a handle on the situation.”

“I realize you're desperate, but what, exactly, do you expect Fontana to do? I can tell you right now that he won't give up the Guild in order to run Burns & Co.”

“Josh can turn the company around. He's brilliant. But he needs time and a large infusion of private capital to hold things together until he can restructure the business.”

“You expect Fontana to pour money into the firm in order to save it for your family?”

“He's our only hope.”

TROY PATTERSON'S OFFICE WAS IN THE EXECUTIVE WING of Guild headquarters. Patterson was inside, seated behind his desk, signing some papers, when Fontana opened the door without warning.

Troy looked up. Cold anger glittered in his eyes before disappearing behind his genial mask.

“Fontana,” he said easily. “What are you doing here? Figured you were still recovering from your honeymoon in the jungle.”