James Axler – Trader Redux

He gave them another friendly wave and went on his way, whistling to himself.

Ryan sniffed. “Not used to outlanders. Place is a total shithouse tip, Trader, but he still calls himself baron. Don’t like it.”

“Lot of men and women have ideas above their reality, Ryan. All we got that they might want is our blasters. Take some spilled blood to get at those.”

“Plenty of barons could chill you for less. Remember that fat son of a bitch up near”

He was interrupted by the appearance of a tall man in stone-washed denim jeans and a patched shirt, stained around the collar and ragged cuffs.

“Saw you come up out the canyon.” He was holding his hand over the butt of a bolstered handblaster. It was difficult to see, but it looked like a rebuilt .32 of unguessable manufacture. “Saw you from the tower window.” He pointed to the four-story turret at the one end of the building. It was leaning sideways at so sharp an angle that you wouldn’t have placed any jack on it being there in six months’ time. Or six days.

“We come from Seattle. Got caught in the big quake.” Trader shook his head sorrowfully. “Lost all our goods. Horses. Couple of friends.” Ryan had learned the lesson early from the older man that the best lies were those that stayed close to the truth. Just nudged it a step sideways.

“What did you trade in?” the man asked.

“We deal in lead, friend.”

The hand twitched and dropped onto the butt of the blaster. “How’s that?”

“Ammo. Made and traded in ammo. Most common calibers. Lost the lot.”

“Shame. Baron Torrance could have been interested in doing some dealing. Still, he’ll like to see you. Few outlanders get this close to the canyon.”

Ryan gestured toward the tumbled wing of Hightower. “Looks like your ville’s getting closer to the canyon all the time. Last night’s quake do any damage?”

“Some. Few more rooms went in. Health club annex dropped over. How did you get down the river?”

“Luck,” Trader replied. “Managed to catch a fallen tree that took us through the rapids.”

“Why didn’t you take the old bridge, three or four miles upstream? Easier way to the top.”

Ryan and Trader looked at each other. “Bridge?” said the one-eyed man. “Didn’t see that. Then again, we were kind of busy hanging on.”

The man nodded. “Best get in. Baron Torrance can be a tad antsy if you keep him waiting. Him and his daughters both. You two got any names?”

Ryan answered for both of them. “I’m Danny King and this is my father, Willard.”

“Father!” Trader snorted, controlling himself with a visible effort. “Danny’s little joke. He’s my young brother. You got a name, mister?”

“Yeah. I’m Andy Arkadin. Sort of run the sec side of things here at Hightower.”

A minor tremor rippled the earth, making them all sway a little. They turned to look at the tottering tower. A single pane of glass cracked noisily, but there was no further damage.

“Aftershocks,” Arkadin said, grinning nervously. “Can finish off what the big quakes start.”

“Looks like it won’t take that much to topple the rest of the wreckage into the canyon,” Trader commented.

“One day. Yeah, one day. One day. Mebbe I’ll be gone from here by then.”

“Not happy?” Ryan asked.

“Not like other villes. See that for yourself. Like a clock that’s nearly run down. Twenty years ago Hightower was a place that counted. Baron Torrance lost his wife when his second daughter was born. Kind of old, his wife, by then. Lost interest at the same time. Only hope now is that his ‘little girls’ will get married and carry on the ville. Sort of restore it to the former glory. Know what I mean?”

Trader nodded. “Way the place is sliding into oblivion, I guess he’s hoping for a quick marriage.”

“You could say that,” Arkadin agreed. “But you couldn’t possibly expect me to comment on it.”

They went inside the lobby of the predark hotel.

It had a faded grandeur that both Ryan and Trader had seen in other, similar buildings. There had been one set by a beautiful lake, among the glaciers of Montana, another overlooking a winding pass in Colorado. This one had to have been up there with the very finest.