The dwarf male shifted nervously in his fancy chair, blonde leather, high-back with dark finished wood-grain wings. Burnout was used to the reaction. Some people just didn't like what he had become, a perversion of humanity and robotics.
The dwarf man's name was Wynar Smith. He was a fixer, based in the Washington DC area, and as such he was very well connected, accustomed to a life of comfort, of dealing with powerful corporate execs. He had hired the shadow-runner, Kaylinn Axler, and her team for several runs. Or so Slaver had learned from his contacts. Smith knew about Assets, Incorporated, the place where Ryan Mercury had gone. And sooner or later, the fixer would give up that information. It was just a matter of time and torture.
Burnout knew all these factlets, but they didn't come close to encompassing this quivering lump of dwarf flesh in front of him. Wynar Smith was afraid to die, and Burnout could smell it.
It smelled pathetic. Still, Burnout stood behind Slaver and the blood spirit ally, waiting for the order that he knew would come. The information first; he had to remember that. They had to get the information before the man's throat could be ripped from his neck, his bloody windpipe yanked out by his Adam's apple. Yes, Burnout would have to wait.
"I want the location of Assets, Incorporated," Slaver said, pacing. His short body was only slightly taller than the frightened dwarf, but Slaver held himself with confidence, that made him seem much larger. "I'm willing to make a deal if necessary, but I must have it."
"I… I… You must understand, I can't tell you that If it ever gets out-"
"What?" Slaver asked. 'They'll kill you?"
Wynar Smith glanced around him furtively, scanning the bodies of the street samurai who served as his bodyguards for signs of life. Burnout and La Sangre had killed six of them, two mages and four chrome jobs. Good fighters. Not like this dwarf coward.
"They… they will kill me," the dwarf said flatly. "I… I… I don't want to die."
"Nobody wants that," Slaver said, an edge of false sincerity in his voice. "We just want the data. You can do whatever is necessary after we leave. Make it look like a break-in, like they threatened to kill you if you didn't tell them." Slaver paused, smiled. "Oh yeah, that's the truth." He gave a little grating laugh.
Burnout twitched, becoming impatient. This was taking too long.
"Besides," said Slaver, laughing softly. "You won't have to tell me. I've scanned it in your mind. It's situated on the edge of a deep canyon."
"You can't trick me like that," Wynar Smith said. "I won't think of it."
"Which one, halfer? Don't try playing games with me, you hear? Not the Grand Canyon? No. What about Zion? No."
"My mind is blank," Smith muttered to himself. "My mind is blank. Blankness. Nothing in here. My mind-"
"Hells Canyon?" Slaver said, then paused as he seemed to concentrate more intently. "That's it," he said finally. "Hells Canyon it is."
"You don't know drek," Smith yelled. "Hells Canyon is more than a hundred and fifty kilometers long. You'll never find it."
"Tsk tsk, getting a little uncivilized," Slaver admonished. "Burnout, can you teach him some manners?"
Burnout sprang into motion like a pouncing tiger. His laser tool was in his hand instantly as he moved to Smith's side. So fast Smith didn't have time to jump before Burnout's free hand had encircled the dwarfs ankles. Burnout jerked Smith into the air, feet first. And held him there, upside down, while he activated the small laser.
"Ah, let me down."
The laser tool wouldn't do extensive damage unless used
on the eyes, but at the highest setting it hurt, especially when applied to sensitive areas like the genitals. Burnout didn't think that would be necessary today. He just held the dwarf high and stripped off his Armante shoes and his argyle socks. Then he began burning a heart shape into the skin over his Achilles tendon.
The dwarf screamed as the laser burned into the skin, a thin wisp of smoke rising along with the smell of roasting flesh and hair.
"The location of Assets, Mr. Smith?" Slaver said.
"Frag you!"
Burnout smiled. This might be more fun than he'd originally thought. Smith's hands made dull thuds as they hit his abdomen, but he barely registered the sensation. The heart shape was finished, so he decided to use the laser to excise one of the dwarfs toes, the pinkie of his left foot. It would take ten minutes to cut all the way through.
The dwarfs screams echoed through the room as Slaver poured himself a glass from a pitcher of lemonade that was sitting out on the table. Then he came back over. "Don't kill him," he said. "Yet."
It was a simple comment, and in hindsight, an innocuous one. But it slotted Burnout off. Of course, he wouldn't kill him. He knew that. It was understood. He felt the hatred rise inside him.
"What you must realize, Mr. Smith," Slaver said, addressing the dwarf, "is that my metal friend here is not the brightest boy. He's very efficient at killing, and he's almost impossible to kill, but if he gets it in his chrome skull that you don't deserve to live, I might not be able to control him."
The hatred flooded Burnout, filling him like an instant tide. And this time it came so fast that the drug didn't kick in before he'd reacted. He swung the flailing body of Wynar Smith around like a thick flesh bat, smashing it against the hard flagstones of the marble hearth. The white rock spattered red with the impact, as the dwarfs head split like a rotten pumpkin.
"Burnout, you fragging moron!"
"He's not dead," Burnout said, holding up the crimson-stained body.
Slaver bit off a reply, his face taking on a look of intense concentration as he focused on the dwarf's bloody form.
As the happy drug rushed through Burnout, he held the body still as the last of the dwarfs blood dripped to the carpeting along with loosened fragments of skull and brain matter. The drug held him content, his memories and the longing for magic anchoring him in the realm of the living.
Finally, Slaver looked up. "He's dead," he said to no one in particular. "But his own thoughts betrayed him in the end. I know the location of Assets, Inc."
Burnout dropped the dwarfs body and stepped back. He knew he had violated some trust with Slaver, some fine line of command that had existed between them. Gone now. They both knew it, but he didn't know what either of them was going to do about it.
"Let's go," Slaver said, not looking at him.
Burnout nodded and followed the others out.