Empire of Two Worlds

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about, boss?” While I could just barely get the drift of what he was saying, I didn’t at that time see what it had to do with me.

He cast me a sardonic glance and I sensed he was disappointed in me.

“No. We’ve taken over the Basement, but we’re not going to stop with the Basement. Those big shots upstairs aren’t so big once you take their protein tanks away. Klein, we need a tank.”

His words practically stopped my mind. I saw for the first time that Bec’s theorising came to a practical point. But it seemed such an enormous step that I just couldn’t encompass it.

“Bec — how?” I goggled.

“You see?” he retorted with a grimace. “You can’t even imagine it. You think of yourself as tankless, as a gunman living outside the law. But what is the law? It’s a gun, it’s a mob, just like us. Once we’ve got what they’ve got, we can take the whole damned city.”

“You sure talk big.”

“Somebody round here has to. Now listen, you want to know how we’ll do it. It’s not nearly as hard as it sounds. Is the sloop ready?”

“Yes.” I had, in fact, tried out the new vehicle a few days before.

“Good, we’ll need it. There’s a guy called Blind Bissey. He owns a tank, just one, located secretly in one of the quiet quarters on the level just above us. Because of it he’s able to run a few factories, have a staff around him, trade, live in style, things like that.”

Bec’s arguments were beginning to impress me. “Hell, isn’t that just what we do?”

“That’s right. Tone the Taker knows where the tank is. As a matter of fact, it’s right close by his store of old books. That’s another reason why I want to go up there. Here’s what we’ll do. One night we’ll drive up there by a planned route — and take over the tank.” He raised his eyebrows as he spoke the last words. “Simple.”

My head was singing with the audacity of it all. “We’ll never get away with it!”

“Why not? If it looks like we can’t hold the place we’ll round up the technicians and bring them down here, and take as much organic material from the tanks as we can and bring that down here as well. That’s all you need, remember: organic material and know-how. We’ll set the tank up anew in the Basement. Meanwhile I’ll get in touch with Blind Bissey and offer him a partnership.”

“It’s war,” I said with a feeling of foreboding. “We’ll be smashed into the ground.”

“You think so? Where’s Bissey without his tank? He’ll want it back so bad he’ll give me fifty per cent to get it. He’ll even call off the cops to get it. I tell you, basically he’s a mobster like us. So Bissey’s outfit will be our first step on the way to real influence. Once we’re upstairs we’ll start to edge in on the workers’ unions, take over more tanks, form alliances in the government and even the cops. Given time, there won’t be anybody who can stop us.”

“You seem to have it all worked out,” I admitted.

He smiled. “I’ve read a lot of books, Klein. Some of the people who lived ages ago were pretty smart.”

The sloop purred smoothly along the gleaming metal street, taking the regular right curves with barely a whisper. Behind us followed three smaller cars to complement the gunmen who were crammed into the big vehicle.

The district was quiet, almost deathly. On either side of the broad avenue the structures presented a continuous façade that swept up to join perfectly with the roof overhead, dully visible behind the glare of the street lights. Bec had had the route reconnoitred pretty thoroughly; we knew there would be no police patrols along at this hour and we were reckoning on a smooth operation.

Each vehicle towed a big square vat. The four of them wouldn’t enable us to carry away all the contents of the tank with us if need be, but they would give us a good part of it; and organics are the most precious thing there is on Killibol.

Becmath drove. In the seat next to him was Tone the Taker, a skinny, nervous individual who had taken pop in the arm before we set out. Pop addicts nearly always go to pieces if they’re without their supply. Their nervous systems need it.

Crowded in between the driving seat and the main troop force were myself and Reeth, another of Bec’s inner circle. Reeth was slight-bodied, slick and nimble. Becmath had chosen him well. He kept his eyes skinned and alone of all the henchmen he was sometimes openly critical of his boss’s decisions, a quality which Bec seemed to value.

“Slow here,” Tone said, “there’s a hidden turning on your right.”

As the sloop slowed to a dawdle we saw an arch closed off with a big sheet of steel. It could be opened, Tone had explained, only from the inside, but that, of course, would not detain us long. We had brought impact explosives with us, the same that are used to punch out odd-shaped sheets of metal.