How Dark the World Becomes Read Free

generation—like most of ours—but Andy had come out as a kid, the son of a lab tech or something, not that it mattered. He hadn’t adapted very well to the collapse of his comfortable, well-planned life when the Varoki pharmaceutical house that relocated all the Human workers to Peezgtaan went belly-up. Andy’s family disintegrated, his father—Ricky’s grandfather—drank himself to death, and Andy grew up to be a bitter, pissed-off man. He took his bitterness out on his wife at first, and later on his two kids. One of the kids died; the other one—Ricky—survived.
    When Ricky first came to work for me, he was probably the most loyal guy I ever had on the payroll. He couldn’t do enough. He looked up to me, like a father, I guess. Problem was, his father was a grade-A son of a bitch, and Ricky had hated him, so he ended up hating me, too. It was weird. Every time I gave him more responsibility, or encouragement, or support, he soured on me a little more. Maybe he only understood a good beating, but I think he’d have hated me just as much for that. 
    He had a problem with authority—obviously—but not one like I’d ever seen before. Right now, I figured Ricky wasn’t my guy anymore; he was probably Kolya’s, and he’d be loyal to Kolya right up until the time Kolya was actually his direct boss. Then, little by little, Ricky would start hating him. 
    I wasn’t really sure what to do about Ricky. Since Kolya was looking after him now, my options were somewhat limited. And there was this thing with my conscience. Of course, if I were ever out of the way—a morbid thought—he’d be Kolya’s problem, and Kolya wouldn’t have any trouble figuring out what to do. He’d just kill him. 
    There are advantages to being a homicidal sociopath.
    It didn’t take them long to file in. Ricky had been growing a goatee, which I thought looked stupid, and tonight he had brought an extra guy along—fellow named Saito, one of his mid-level muscle guys.
    “This is a closed meeting, Ricky. You know that,” I said. 
    He smirked to his three stooges and shrugged.
    “Saito’s moving up. Thought he should see what goes on.”
    I just looked at him. Five seconds was about all it took.
    “Okay! Okay! Saito, take a walk and we’ll see you later.” 
    Not that anything we were going over was top secret; it was just the principle of the thing. Ricky was always pushing like that, either trying to see if he could get away with something, or trying to provoke a reaction, I wasn’t really sure which. But it was a pain in the ass—that much I was sure of.
    Ricky nodded to the Hawker 10 in my shoulder holster.
    “You’re carrying that antique hand cannon, so you musta’ seen Arrie. He upping his order?”
    “That’s between me and Kolya,” I answered.
    “Yeah, well, Kolya ain’t gonna like it much if he don’t.”
    “Never mind what Kolya likes. You better just focus on what I like. Did you get your payment over to the clinic for this cycle?”
    He shrugged. “Not yet. Why the hell do we skim so much for the clinic, anyway?”
    “Because I say so, Goddamnit!” I exploded and hit my desk with my fist hard enough that it jumped and sloshed tea out of the glasses sitting on it. 
    I took a deep breath and leaned back. Always pushing, always arguing every stinking point, always trying to provoke a reaction—and I’d let him get to me. I hate losing control like that; it’s a sign of weakness. Ricky just settled back in his chair, a scowl replacing his smirk.
    “You get your cash over to Doc Zhan tomorrow morning, and you add four percent to it this cycle, as a late charge,” I said, pointing at him for emphasis. “You understand?” 
    He started to open his mouth, but then he clammed up and nodded.
    The rest of the meeting was pretty subdued. We covered all the boring business stuff you have to keep a handle on. Personnel issues. Security. Revenue. Receipts from the Lotto and the Bank were the main revenue