Never trust an elf

"Well, it ain't going dere. Zasshu's right; dis armored van is a hot item, and I ain't about ta dump it in one of da Underground's garages. If it's spotted dere, its owner is goftna know just where ta look fer us, and dat's too close ta home."

"It can be protected in the Underground," Scatter said. "I can protect it."

"Maybe ya can, maybe ya can't. Widdout knowing who dis heap belongs ta, ya don't know what ya gotta hide it from. Whoever sent dose metal men has got resources, and lots of 'em. Until I know what we're dealing wit, I don't wanta call anybody's attention ta da Underground."

"I concur," Neko said. "But some sort of place must be found."

"This ain't it," Zasshu cut in. "You got yer paint, so you can get the fragging hell outta here till you can pay up."

Not wanting to upset the dwarf further, Kham hustled the crew back aboard the truck. "Yer bem' real understanding about dis, Zasshu."

The dwarf hawked and spat. "Ain't got much choice."

"I'll remember dis," Kham said as he climbed into

the truck.

"If you don't, I will. And I know where you live."

"They spent the day rolling through Seattle, stopping only to fuel the truck, grab a bite, or take the chance to drop a load. It wasn't much fun, but neither Kham nor any of the others could think of a safe place to stash the truck.

It was late afternoon when they rolled into the Redmond Barrens, moving down High Bridge Road into one of the more built-up, and consequently tougher, sections of the Barrens. Paradoxically, this part of Redmond was safer for orks because a good part of it was territory that belonged to Ghost-Who-Walks-Inside. Ghost was an Indian and had known his own share of blind intolerance, so he was more accepting than the bulk of the district's population, and his people mostly followed his lead. Still, the Injun didn't have control of the whole population. Who did? Kham sent Neko out to spot when they pulled up to wait for Sally. As the only norm in their crew, he was the best choice. No sense looking,for trouble, even if they were in Ghost's territory.

Neko drifted back in. "A blond woman in fringed leather and a stocky Amerindian with beaded headr band and a matched set of Uzis are coming down the street."

"Sounds like dem." Kham looked out at the gathering darkness. "On time, too."

"You don't need her," Scatter said.

The rat shaman had refused Kham's periodic offers to drop her off near one of the entrances to the Underground, apparently preferring to stay where she could touch the crystal. Kham didn't like, or trust, her possessive attitude toward the thing.

"Need who?" he said offhandedly.

"The Tsung witch."

He squinted at the shaman. "Howddya know who I'm waitin' fer?"

"I am a shaman.'"

"Yeah, right." She was that, but she was a sneaky little bitch as well. He remembered her hanging about Zasshu's office while he made his calls. It was almost the only time he'd seen her away from the crystal since she'd first laid eyes on it. "Got good ears, do ya?"

Scatter ignored his remark. Instead she caressed the crystal and crooned, "It is old. Very, very old."

"Tell me sumpin' I don't know. Like how it works."

"That will take study," she said in a hushed whisper. "But I will learn."

Kham looked out the passthrough to the cab. Through the front window he saw two figures turn the corner onto the street where they were parked. Sally and Ghost. He left the truck and walked around to meet them.

Ghost nodded greeting, and Sally gave him her usual sardonic grin. "Hoi, Kham. Looking good for a hunk of dead, burned orkflesh. 'Zappening? Your call sounded like you had something hot."

Kham nodded. "Some hot magic." Kham led them around to the back of the van, noting that Ghost's eyes roved over the battle scars on the van. The Indian was a street samurai, more highly modified than Kham, but less obviously so. Ghost knew his way around a firefight, and Kham was sure the Indian could smell the new paint. Having checked out the truck, Ghost's eyes now examined the orks clustered at the truck's back doors.

"New boys," Ghost noted. "Tough fight?"

"Not dis one," Kham said.

The Indian nodded-he'd be making his own judgment on Kham's performance, as always-but he said nothing. Kham opened a path through the knot of his guys so Sally could get through. Sally looked into the body and said, "When did you take up understatement, Kham?"

"Told ya it was hot. Whatcha tink it is?"

She shook her head, frowning in puzzlement.

"Static on the screen." "I told you she would be no help," Scatter said

from the darkness of the truck.

Sally turned cold eyes on the rat shaman. "And who's this paragon of knowledge and haute couture?" "Scatter," Kham said. "Our shaman," Ryan added proudly. "Shaman, hunh?" Sally cocked her head. "Rat, right?"

"Rat is my totem." Scatter's tone sounded a trifle defensive to Kham.

"Well, if you could have done what my chummer Kham needed done, I don't think he would have called me. Do you?"

Scatter hissed at her. "I will unravel the crystal's secrets."