Voidchaser - Chapter 19

Here's chapter 19.  Comments very welcome, hope you enjoy,

- Sebastian

		Diamond Jill is a pretty little thing
		She travels the stars in the wake of a king
		Her eyes are so lovely, her smile is so nice
		Her kisses delightful, she's the lady of ice



				        Chapter Nineteen



	"Need a guide?"  A wiry man stepped in front of them, slightly balding
with peering eyes and pockmarked skin.  "Can show you around Syrrus B,
maybe?  Little jink - very little, cutters, very little - and I show you
the sights.  You want drugs?  All substances legal here.  Women?  Know
four different places... Human girls, elf girls, dwarf girls, orc girls,
giff girls... ten different races and species.  Satisfy any desire.
Whatever you want," he jabbed a thumb at himself, "Naldo can get."
	"I don't think so," said Julian, eyeing the dingy man askance.
	Jack didn't appear to even notice the man.  His eyes were on the rows
of docked spelljamming ships.  For such a small city, Syrrus B had
unique starport, able to accomodate ships of all sizes and classes.
There were elaborate berths strung with canvas cradles for ships which
could normally only land on water.  Elsewhere, there were cleared
patches on the rock floor of the cave, for those ships with gear and
struts for ground landing.  Even higher up were facilities for those
ships which could not land at all - berths for temporary docking.  And
everywhere, the twisting wooden docks, climbing here, descending there,
supported by stout wood pilings that stretched up from the rocky black
ground.
	"I can take you anywhere you want to go," the pock-marked man insisted,
refusing to take 'no' for an answer, "you want that here, believe me.
They call this place the Maze, you know.  Wasn't built to any rhyme or
reason - streets just twist around each other... sometimes circle, you
know?  Other times, you can walk clear around the place you want to get,
never know it, and never get there.  And sometimes the streets just end.
Dead end, you know?"  He made a cutting motion across his throat.  "Bad
places out there.  Got no starlight in here, you know?  Just a few
torches - hard to see.  Black places, darkness, you know?  Dangerous
people out there - gangs and thugs.  Predators, you know?  Sometimes
dead end is dead end.  I can take you where you want to go, no problem.
No danger.  None.  Just a little jink, that's what."
	Julian was having trouble following the man's conversation.  In
addition to his slurred accent, he was speaking very quickly, peppering
his words with phrases the elf had never heard before.  "Jink?" he
asked.
	"Yeah, yeah.  Trinkets, like.  Gold, money, you know?"  A smile creased
his scarred face.  "Jink.  Won't cost much to guide you through the
Maze."
	"I don't think we'll have any trouble," said Jack.  "This is hardly
Sigil."
	The pock-marked man stared at him.  "Sigil?"
	"Another city."  Jack shook his head.  "Never mind.  We don't want
women and we don't want drugs.  But we could use information."
	The man gave a broad smile, rubbing one ear absently and giving violent
nods.  "Information...  Oh yes, Naldo, he good with that.  Yeah, I can
help you...  I got connections, you know?  Keep my eyes open - ears too.
Hear things.  See things."  He tapped his head.  "All goes in here.
Know the best chant brokers around, too, you know?  Can take you to see
them, if you need."
	"I'm here looking for a man."
	The man nodded eagerly.  "Oh yeah, I know where you can find men.  No
women for you?  No problem, Naldo knows where to find."
	"A specific man," Jack clarified, annoyed.
	"Oh yes, oh yes," said Naldo reassuringly.  "Oh, Naldo sees, oh yes.
You got name?  Name name, we do business.  I can find him, no problem."
	"I doubt that," said Jack.  "And I don't need your help anyway.  I want
to know who the local power brokers are - he's probably being held by
one of them."
	The man gave him a blank look.
	"The people in charge here," Jack clarified.
	The man nodded again.  "Oh yes, oh yes," he said, smiling.  "I can tell
you that, no problem.  But first we talk jink, you know?"
	Jack produced a gold piece, extended it.  The man snatched it away with
a wide smile.  He bit down on it quickly, and was pleased with the
results.  "Oh yes, good jink," he mumbled excitedly.
	"That and nine more like it for what I want."
	"Oh yes, oh yes." the man babbled.
	"Tell me what I want to hear."
	The man nodded again.  "The duchess, she mostly in charge of the
Council, see?  She runs The Hammer - biggest group here.  Gambling,
women, drugs, smuggling, taverns, you name it - lots of muscle.  Has
three ships of her own - maybe four; does pirating on the side, see, so
they ain't all here at once."  He shrugged.  "Fourth ship just rumor.
But sometimes rumors good."
	"And her competition?"
	"Uh... biggest comp is probably... Blackwood.  Runs the slave trade.
He's neogi - the whole organization mostly is too.  Not as big as some
of the others on Syrrus B, but has backing from out there," - he
gestured upwards -  "you know, neogi empire.  Not really skilled with
politics, though.  Used to getting whatever he wants, you know?  Duchess
usually outmanuevers him, so does Trytius."
	"Trytius?"
	"Uh, yeah.  Trytius.  He... it, I guess - it's an illithid, you know?
Been around for a while, couple of years.  Officially it's just in
charge of trade - laws and so forth, but his enforcers are also the main
law on the street.  I mean, they've all got 'em - enforcers, you know,
henchmen - but he's got more of them, at least on the streets.  Then
there's Red Marlin, the pirate lord - you heard of him?"
	Jack nodded.  "Just the Storyteller's verse."
	"Yeah, he's big time - owns a fleet of fifteen or so ships. Doesn't
stay here, mind, but drops in from time to time.  It's a regular stop
for his ships, see?  So he's got a few people in place here, owns a few
buildings - even got a honorary spot on the council.  Never shows up,
though, or hardly ever.
	"And then there's the Blue Man - arcane, see, but nobody knows his real
name, so they just call him 'Blue Man'.  He's arcane, what more can I
say, right?  He gets things no-one else can, supplies them to the
highest bidder.  He's got a small fortress; does business there.  Trades
information more than anything else.  Sort of shy - nobody I ever met
ever even saw him, just rumors, you know?
	"Then there's the smaller gangs - there's two different official
thieves' guilds and probably a dozen smaller ones.  And plenty of
entrepreneur types with their own little holdings, you know?  Even I
don't know all them."
	"Talk to me about recent arrivals," said Jack.  "Anything unusual?"
	The man looked thoughtful.  "Sure, always.  A beholder ship came in
today - just docked, no-one got off yet.  Probably here for slaves.  And
a galleon filled with gnomes, they got off first thing, went into town.
Most of 'em are drugged or drunk.  Rumor says there's a big name bounty
hunter coming in soon, maybe already here.  No-one's got a name for him,
though.  And a vipership came in with a mixed crew; probably some
adventuring party."  He chewed his lip thoughtfully.  "Lots of others,
mostly human ships though.  Lots of ships come in every day, see?  All
different.  All unusual.  Good enough?"
	Jack shook his head.  "Not quite.  I've payed you quite a bit of gold,
and I expect something for it."
	The man clutched at the coin he held.  "No more jink?" he asked,
cresfallen.
	Jack considered, then tossed the man a small purse.  "Here's the rest
of it.  I expect you to earn it."
	The man caught it in surprised delight.  "Sure, sure!  I'll get more
information for you, right away!"
	"No," said Jack.  "I have a different task for you.  You see this elf?"
he asked, indicating Julian.
	The scarred man nodded.
	"This is Twilight Jack.  You've heard of him?"
	The man nodded again, his eyes going a little wider.  He looked at
Julian with new respect.  "Devil man.  Killer."
	"That's right," said Jack.  "Keep that in mind when your tiny little
brain starts considering betraying us."
	"Oh no," the man protested quickly.  "I'm solid, you know?  Wouldn't
betray, no, no.  No way."
	"You'd better not," said the assassin, "because he can kill you before
you blink twice, and he won't feel any regret.  Anything goes wrong and
you die first.  Remember that."
	The man licked his lips nervously.  "Sure, sure," he whined.  "No
problem."
	"You're going to take this man to find a good inn, somewhere quiet; out
of the way, so he can get a room - preferably for a good price.  You
understand?"
	The man nodded quickly.  "No problem," he assured.  "Best lodgings in
town."
	"Right.  After you guide him there, you're free to disappear.  You've
earned the money."
	Julian drew Jack aside.  "I don't mind playing along, but what exactly
are we doing?"
	"Getting a room.  We'll probably be here for a little while, unless I
get lucky."
	"I thought we were going to be in and out of here in less than an
hour."
	Jack shook his head.  "Too many factions.  Cozar only told me that
Windhook was here.  He didn't know which group was holding him, if any
of them are.  Hopefully one of them is; if he's just laying low here on
his own, it's going to take even longer.  In the meantime, we'll need a
place to stay."
	Julian nodded.  "And you?"
	"I'm going to get started."
	"How will you find me?"  the elf asked.
	"I'll find you; don't worry."
	"Good enough."  The elf turned back to the wiry man, who had been
looking from one of them to the other uncertainly.  "You," he said.
	The man flinched away from his gaze, then nodded.
	"Lead on."


				*	*	*

	The streets of Syrrus B were eery in an alien way.  Just as the
pock-marked man had promised, they were dark and twisting.  The only
light came from the occasional flickering lantern or torch, atop a
streetlamp or spilling light from behind a shuttered window.  It was
difficult to tell the avenues apart, for none of the streets were
cobbled or dir.  Instead, they were all of hard and uneven rock which
seemed perpetually damp.
	When Julian asked the man about the dampness, he had nodded.  "Sure,
sure.  Always like that here.  Condensation, you know?"  He'd grinned.
"Even got our own stream, winds its way through the middle of town.
Can't drink from it though - foul.  Human waste gets dumped in it, you
know?"  He pondered his own words for a moment.  "Well, I guess you
could drink from it, but you wouldn't want to though.  Right?"
	Julian hadn't replied.
	The city was bustling, the streets coursing with dozens of different
species, all interacting with each other.  Here, as in most places,
there mostly humans.  But Julian saw plenty of other races as well:
dwarfs, rastipede, elves, halflings, a small group of penguin-like
dohwar, even a spider-like neogi with its lumbering umber hulk slave.
	Yet, despite the crowded thoroughfares, there was something about this
place that put him on edge, something more than the perpetual night
which draped it.
	Jack had directed the pock-faced man to take Julian into the 'safe'
part of town.  If that was so, Julian ruefully thought, then the
dangerous part of town must have been very interesting indeed.
	Coarse laughter and drunken singing rang out from an open doorway they
passed; within, scantily-clad women entertained leering sailors.  It
seemed that every other building housed either a brothel or an alehouse
- or worse, a drug den.
	A woman across the way leaned out of an upstairs window, dumping offal
into the street, and onto the head of an unfortunate half-orc who had
been passing.  He roared in surprise and humiliation, unsheathing his
sword and shouting up at her in his guttural tongue.  She shouted back,
in common, cursing him, spat, and closed the window, leaving him alone
on the street, venting his rage impotently.
	A group of five street toughs ahead had surrounded a dark-haired man
ahead.  As Julian watched, they began pushing the frightened man from
one of them to the next, shoving him roughly to the ground.  Then,
hoisting makeshift clubs, they began to beat him.  And all in plain
sight, in the middle of a busy street.
	They didn't leave off until the man's body lie bloody and still.  They
might not have stopped even then, but a small group of soldiers in
ragged uniforms had appeared farther down the street, and with a cry,
the street thugs quickly disappeared down a side alley.
	The patrol of uniformed men approached, in no particular hurry, and
bent over the beaten man.  Julian watched as they rifled through his
pockets, searching for valuables.  Shoving his body to the side, so that
it lay out of the main thoroughfare, the city guardsmen (if that's what
they were) continued on their way.
	An interesting place, thought Julian.
	"You coming?" asked the pock-marked man.  He followed Julian's gaze.
"No guide," he said, nodding.  "Dangerous city, here, like I told you.
Best not to interfere."
	Julian shrugged.  "No business of mine.  Lead on."
	And they continued.
	As the pock-marked man had promised, the streets here were
labyrinthine, twisting and turning and doubling back on themselves
continually.  The further they progessed, the less certain Julian was of
the way to get back.  In fact, he had the nagging feeling that they were
traveling in circles.
	Julian kept a wary eye on the man in front of him, well aware that he
could easily be leading him into an ambush.  Certainly it would be
nothing out of the ordinary here - someone from off-world landing at the
spaceport, hired a guide, and was never seen again.  If the man
suspected he wasn't the ruthless killer Twilight Jack had said he was,
he probably wouldn't hesitate to lead him to somewhere quiet and out of
the way...
	Still, though his danger-sense was alert and prickling, it wasn't
screaming at him.  Julian was a gambler, and played for high stakes.  He
trusted his instinct; it had never yet led him astray.  So he continued
to follow, though he kept one hand on the hilt of his dagger.
	By this time, they had entered a different section of the city - the
streets here were darker, emptier.  There was still the occasional
passerby, but it was rarer here.  Too, it was filthier here.  Grime,
dirt, and decay were everywhere here; the buildings themselves, stained
and weathered, seemed to sag.  The lanterns dotting the street were
fewer and farther between.  As they went, it seemed they passed from one
small, flickering pool of light into a sea of darkness, then on to the
next light.
	"Interesting neighborhood you picked," said Julian, distastefully
side-stepping a pile of dung swarmed with flies.
	"You said safe," protested the pock-marked man, looking back "not
pretty.  Can't have everything, you know?  It's a good place, where I'm
taking you."
	"How much farther is it?"
	"Just ahead, just ahead."  He beckoned forward.
	The people they passed were of a different sort as well.  Most were
dressed in dirt-grimed rags, moving furtively, careful to keep clear of
the elf and his guide, as if they feared they might be set upon.
	There was a foul smell to the air; a sickness which hung motionless.
The feeling of broken despair was everywhere.  The houses they passed
were darkened, the doors often boarded up and nailed shut, the windows
shuttered.  From behind sagging wooden walls came occasional sounds:
low murmurs of conversation, pain-wracked coughing; even the distant
sound of a man's voice raised in anger, and a woman's, crying and
pleading.
	Once, they side-stepped a pair of drunks slumped against the wall,
human debris littering the streets.  As they passed, Julian looked more
closely.  One of the men was snoring softly, a bottle of cheap elven
wine clutched protectively in his arm.  The other man was staring
upwards, wide-eyed and unblinking, his face fixed in a rigid expression
of horror.  His throat had been slashed from ear to ear.
	Another time, an emaciated old man with dark circles under eyes leaped
into their path, his body crouched over like some grotesque monkey.  He
looked from Julian to the pock-marked man with wild eyes, lips writhing
soundlessly, then shrieked, rushing forward and seizing the elf's guide
by his shirt.  "Off!  Get them off, get them off, get them off!" he
cried.  "Get them off me!" he released the pock-marked man and began
swatting at himself furiously.  "They're all over me!  Everywhere!"
	Julian's guide had pushed him away in disgust.  "Away, old fool.  Keep
your diseased hands off."  He had looked at Julian in apology as the old
man scuttled away.  "Seed-chewer."
	Julian gave him a questioning look.  "'Seed chewer'?" he asked.
	The man nodded.  "Yes.  Lotus, you know?  Makes you feel good, see?
Invincible."  A crafty look came into his eye.  "You need any, talk to
me.  I know the best dens in town, you know?"
	"I don't think so," said Julian, watching the old man scurry away.
"Not if it does that to you."
	The pock-marked man nodded.  "Oh, yes.  Wise choice, good choice."  He
made a disgusted face.  "Never liked it.  Turns your mind to muck, you
know?  But not at first... Not at first.  At first, feels good.  You
change your mind, let me know, okay?  I can get you good stuff.  Stuff
that won't hurt you like that, you know?  Make you feel good."
	Julian shook his head.  "I said no.  How much farther?  I'm starting to
get a little impatient."
	The man cringed.  "Sorry, sorry.  Didn't mean to push it on you, see?
We're almost there, just down the street a little ways.  You aren't
going to hurt me, are you?"  He looked ready to run.
	Julian sighed.  "Not if you keep your word and do what you promised."
	The man relaxed visibly.  "Right, right.  I keep my word; you can trust
that.  I get you where you want to go, no problem.  I heard about you,
though.  They say you kill a man for just talking too much."
	Julian eyed him.  "That's right... I'm Twilight Jack, don't you forget
it.  And you do talk too much."
	The man went wide-eyed.  "Sorry, sorry," he said, then went silent.
	Julian smiled at his back.  Maybe impersonating a ruthless assassin had
its perks after all.

				*	*	*

	At first glance, Lem's Pride looked completely undeserving of its name.
Ramshackle and run-down, the inn was actually three separate buildings,
each of distinctly different styles, which were clumsily connected
together by disjointed wooden walkways that looked like they had been
constructed by someone unfamiliar with tools.  Looking at it, Julian was
doubtful the structure was even waterproof, though he reflected that it
was unlikely to rain here.  Why anyone would be proud of it was beyond
his imagination.
	"See, see," said the pock-faced man proudly.  "Said you'd like it.
Safe here, oh      yes."
	Julian sniffed.  The bitter tang of old urine hung heavy in the air.
"Indeed," he said sardonically.
	Entering at the front of the building (there was no door, just a
threadbare curtain of beads hanging down over the nearly-square
doorframe), Julian passed into a dimly lit room.  Immediately the smells
of the street behind him vanished as his nose was overwhelmed with a
rush of too-sweet incense and oil.  He nearly coughed.
	The front room was so smoky with incence and so dimly lit (only an oil
lamp on the front desk and a second flickering lamp on the far side of
the room) that for a moment Julian's eyes could pick out nothing,
watering as they were from the incense.
	Gradually the dim room came into focus.  The lush carpet underfoot was
badly stained in several places, and threadbare oriental rugs ornamented
the walls (probably hiding stains as well).  There were several couches
scattered around the room; most were empty, but on one two heavily
made-up women lounged, dressed mostly in silks and jewelry.  They spared
him a bored glance as he passed.
	Behind the front desk an overweight human male sat, busily picking at
his fingernails with a small knife.  His face was dark and angular, and
despite his obesity there was something threatening in his eyes.  Julian
approached but the man did not look up.
	"I'm here for a room," said Julian at last.
	The man grunted, still not looking up.  "Ain't got none."
	Julian felt a trace of irritation.  He reached down to his purse,
pulling a platinum piece out.  He set it quietly down on the counter.
"Find one."
	The man looked at the coin, then sighed as if put-upon.  He jabbed his
knife into the counter (there were several other deep cuts there,
evidence that he often did this) and turned around, reaching for the
wall behind him.  A row of keys dangled from hooks there, and he managed
to snag one.  Turning back to Julian he produced a small, tattered book.
"Gotta sign in.  What name?"
	"Twilight Jack."
	The man didn't even spare him a glance.  "Yeah, right," he said, bored,
scribbling into the yellowed pages.  "Whatever."  He managed to spell
'twilight', but misspelled 'jack'.  "Heard Diamond Jill's in town too.
We get all the famous people here.  Maybe the two of you will honeymoon
on the Spelljammer, huh?"  He snorted at his own joke, but Julian
frowned.  Diamond Jill was a bounty hunter of no small reputation.  If
she was here - if the man's comment was drawn from more than just casual
rumor - then Julian doubted it was a coincidence.
	The man closed the book and tossed the key to Julian, who deftly caught
it.  "Room six," he said.  "You've paid for two days only - you stay
longer, you pay more.  Don't destroy the furniture either, or you pay
for it."  He gave a half-gesture to the scantily clad women on the
couches.  "You want women, you pay for 'em here.  I don't sell lotus
seeds or byll-weed, but for a tip I can tell you where to get them."
The words sounded like a speech by rote, and when he finished, the man
went back to cleaning his nails.
	Julian turned away, looked at the room.  The pock-faced man had
followed him in, and Julian gave a start, finding him hovering anxiously
at his shoulder.
	"Not bad, eh?" said the man.  "Safe, like you wanted."
	Julian wrinkled his nose.  The idea of waiting here for hours on end
was not especially appealing.
	"Remember," said the man, "you want anything, I can get it.  You need
me to run messages, errands, whatever, I'll be around, you know?  You
change your mind about the drugs-" - he held up a placating hand when
Julian frowned - "I know, I know, not your thing.  But women, or
whatever, you know, just ask.  I'll get it."  He looked distastefully as
the two prostitutes.  "And better than these, too.  Good stuff, you
know?"
	Julian shook his head.  "Not my vice, I'm afraid."
	The man smiled.  "Hey, this be the city of vices, you know?  We got a
thousand, take your pick.  Not women, not drugs, not drink... ok, we got
more, you know?"
	Julian considered.  "Actually, I have always had a certain... fondness
for gambling."
	The man's smile broadened.  "Hey, we got gambling.  All over.  Big
time, small time - best in the multiverse, you know?  You want me to
take you to some of the best houses?"
	Julian smiled.  "Lead the way."
	The man was taken back.  "What, right now?  You ain't seen your room,
even."
	The elf shrugged.  "It's got a bed, it's a room; it'll do.  Let's go."
	The man smiled.  "Hey, no problem.  No problem."

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