Chasm City

ONE

Darkness was falling as Dieterling and I arrived at the base of the bridge.

"There's one thing you need to know about Red Hand Vasquez," Dieterling said. "Don't ever call him that to his face."

"Why not?"

"Because it pisses him off."

"And that's a problem?" I brought our wheeler to near-halt, then parked it amongst a motley row of vehicles lining one side of the street. I dropped the stabilisers, the overheated turbine smelling like a hot gun barrel. "It's not like we usually worry about the feelings of low-lives," I said.

"No, but this time it might be best to err on the side of caution. Vasquez may not be the brightest star in the criminal firmament, but he's got friends and a nice little line in extreme sadism. So be on your best behaviour."

"I'll give it my best shot."

"Yeah -- and do your best not to leave too much blood on the floor in the process, will you?"

We got out of the wheeler, both of us craning our necks to take in the bridge. I'd never seen it before today -- this was my first time in the Demilitarised Zone, let alone Nueva Valparaiso -- and it had looked absurdly large even when we'd been fifteen or twenty kilometres out of town. Swan had been sinking towards the horizon, bloated and red except for the hot glint near its heart, but there'd still been enough light to catch the bridge's thread and occasionally pick out the tiny ascending and descending beads of elevators riding it to and from space. Even then I'd wondered if we were too late -- if Reivich had already made it aboard one of the elevators -- but Vasquez had assured us that the man we were hunting was still in town, simplifying his web of assets on Sky's Edge and moving funds into long-term accounts.