The Troubleshooter: New Haven Blues by Bard Constantine

Author:Bard Constantine [Constantine, Bard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, cyberpunk, Dystopian, detective novel, mystery detective, noir fiction, post apocalyptic fiction, private eye hardboiled, dieselpunk, dystopia fiction
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: Gabbing with Graves

I really hated the slammer. It was always so much easier to get in than to get out.

Turned out the only way to get out was the way we came in, which was crammed with prisoners and guards going World War 4 on each other. As much as I hated it, we had no choice but to lend a hand tucking the kids back into their beds. It took a little convincing, but eventually they saw things our way. Especially since we were armed and not at all hesitant to be dangerous, while they were just dangerous.

And unarmed. Bullets win every time.

"You boys are pretty handy in a scrap." One of the Warden’s eyes flickered and she limped slightly, but she seemed pretty good otherwise. Synoid injuries are convincing in appearance, but it’s hard to feel sorry for something that feels no pain. I'd seen her bodyslam a lug twice her size and slap on cuffs while casually shooting his attacking buddy in the head.

Not quite human, better than human was the motto from Maximilian Industries, who manufactures them. Who am I to argue?

"We get by.” I jerked a thumb down the way. “We left a couple of fanatics cooling off in one of your holding tanks. Names are Yin and Yang. Just keep 'em locked up overnight. I have a feeling they were under a little hypnotic influence."

"And the Savant?"

"Fit whatever’s left of him for a New Haven trench coat.” I raised my hands to cut off her obvious question. “I had nothing to do with it. We had a run-in with a cat called the New Man. Consider him a close cousin of yours. Modified synoid or something. I don’t know what the hell he is, but he wasn’t here for a social call. He smoked the Savant, fried his egg to a blackened crisp, and took a dive out the side of the wall.”

Synoids don’t generally show emotion, but the Warden looked a bit shell-shocked. Her damaged eye sparked and fizzled out. I decided to be polite and went on like I didn’t notice.

“The point is, we're kinda in a hurry to get our hands on a severed leg and save a hundred thousand or so lives. So as much as I’d love to stick around in this wonderful resort of yours, I think we’d better dust out.”

She finally got a hold of herself. “Listen. I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but since it’s you, I have to assume it’s critical. I owe you a favor, and I don’t like debt.” She opened her holoband and pulled up a location on the grid. “Synch up to this position –it will take you right to the Captain. I’ll send him a line and let him know you’re coming.”

“The Captain? You want me to hook up with the brass? What kind of a sap do you take me for? I’m not exactly on great terms with the button boys. With all the

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