The Harsh Land

Everybody knew that life was hard in the wasteland. Kudos was no exception. The town eked out its own existence by feeding on the other dregs of humanity that inhabited it. Prostitution, slavery, drugs and weapons all thrived in this environment. The law was the gun, and the law ruled with an iron fist. Gangs of youths roamed around the place in some semblance of order, but that did not stop them praying on anything that moved that wasn't wearing the right colours. The only real organisation in the town was the Harrow family. It was a 'family' in the loosest sense of the word. Everybody paid tribute to them, it was suicide not to. Many had tried to take over from their rule. Retribution was swift and deadly. That was 'justice' in Kudos, and everyone accepted that.

Well…almost everyone. People whispered on street corners when they thought nobody was listening. They whispered of the sort of legends that spring up in every backwater town after the ear ended. They whispered of ghosts, robots, aliens, all manner of weird and wonderful things. However, the whispers were beginning to become more coherent. Some called them philosophers, some called them monks. One thing everybody was saying was that they were coming, and they intended to change things. Periodically miners would run from the hills, proclaiming they had been approached by men in brown cloaks who offered them salvation. The miners were dealt with in the usual manner, no-one was willing to accept that the order was about to change. However, that did not stop everyone keeping the safety off and their guns cocked at all times. People were getting itchy and afraid. It was the sort of feeling that every society gets before major change happens. It had happened in Stalin's Russia. It had happened in the King's France and it had happened in Charles Albert's Italy.

John Kane was an enforcer for the Harrows. He had a reputation for being a professional. Everybody liked Kane because he wasn't psychotic like other enforcers. And this meant they were willing to talk to him because he was willing to make a deal, not just break kneecaps. This made him a good man in the Harrow's books; because he could be relied on to get as much money as was humanly possible. It also meant that he was as close as people in Kudos came to getting some type of justice. Many people came to him to sort their problems out and he tried to oblige as best he can. John had many contacts in Kudos, and this meant that he made the perfect inspector for the Harrow family to sort out the rumours and rout out fact from fiction. Frederick Harrow had personally called him into his office to get on the case. He had given him some back-up in the form of one of his personal bodyguards if anything needed 'sorted out'. Harrow's words. The support came in the form of James Andrews. He wasn't the typical mob hard-man. Standing just less than 6 foot, he wasn't massive, and John placed him at not more than 175 pounds. He himself was taller, but the man seemed to move with grace unseemly for a human. Andrews' eyes also made Kane feel uneasy. He never stopped them moving, they scanned a whole room within a second of him entering, and his fingers were always itching towards his hip where twin pistols lay almost languidly. Kane did not know what sort of skills the man possessed, but the uneasiness that stirred within him made him make himself a pact not to try and bring this man in to his business, just in case.

Trust was something hard gained in Kudos, but Kane had managed to gain the confidant of many people in the town. He knew the exact man to ask. He was a small-time drug dealer, and human trafficker. Kane hated that sort of thing, but the man paid his tribute to the Harrow and so his business was safe. The man also listened to many rumours from the women that he moved into and out of the town. In their fear, they were willing to tell him anything to set them free. It never worked though. Most of the stuff they came out with was total bollocks, but they occasionally came up with a nugget or two. He would be a good place to start.

The little warehouse that the man, William Jones, used to store his 'wares' was down one of the dodgier back alleys in Kudos. Kane was wearing the combat armour that every enforcer for the Harrows was issued. It was a dull grey colour, with the black rose of the Harrow family on the right chest. His side-arm, a small Sig-Sauer 460, was strapped to the side of his leg, and he carried a p90 slung over his shoulder. There were some benefits for working for the Harrow. Apart from the hardware, and the access, total protection came from wearing Harrow enforcer colours. Nobody in their right mind was willing to go against the Harrow, which made their men invincible. That didn't stop him wearing the armour though, some idiot was always desperate enough to try and leap from behind him with a knife.

He spotted the first of Jones' men about 50 metres from where the compound was situated. The man jogged quickly over to him, his coat being caught by the wind, blowing open to reveal the sawn-off shotgun. Whether it was deliberate or not was beside the point, he didn't faze John.

"Are you here to see Mr. Jones?"

"Show me the way"

"I am going to have to ask you to hand over your equipment."

"Try and take it from me"

Kane squinted at the man, who was a couple of inches smaller than he. The man hesitated for a few seconds, hands wandering to where his weapon was holstered. However, the man must have realised that you don't become a harrow enforcer for nothing and backed down.

"Right this was, sir"

"Thank you."

Kane always enjoyed being polite, it gave a bit of class to his otherwise dirty career choice. As he walked down the street, he saw another half-dozen men, each clothed in the same drab brown trench coat and each had a bulge under his shoulder where the shotgun would be. The entrance to the complex was heavily guarded, with a heavyset man holding a large assault rifle. He looked professional and Kane had a sort of reverence for him. Clearly a merc, possibly from out of town. Kane made a mental note to approach the man, and ask about his credentials, possibly enquire as to his future working prospects. The man's jaw tightened as he saw that Kane approached fully armed. The submachine gun would work just as effectively as the assault rifle at this sort of range.

"You imbecile, you let him this close without taking his weapons of him."

The escort that had accompanied Kane suddenly tried to become very small.

"He…He is Harrow."

"I don't give a shit, he could be God's gift to bloody cake-baking and I would still make damn sure he didn't get this close to Mr Jones."

"Yes sir, sorry sir."

The mercenary turned toward Kane.

"I am sorry about this, but I really cannot let you see Mr. Jones armed."

"Oh don't be silly Chris, he is a close friend"

William Jones came round the corner and walked right up to Kane, extending his arm toward him. John heartily shook it, he didn't particularly like the man, but it cost nothing to be civilised.

"Nice to see you again Bill."

"Can I get you anything John, Jet, Psycho, a woman? Two women? I have a lovely set of tribals just come from the North. Very feisty."

"I think I'll survive Bill, I have come on business."

"I thought I had paid this week, I hope there aren't any problems."

"O no, your payment was received with thanks, I just need to talk."

"That is fine then, please this way."

William turned and walked away into the darkness of his warehouse. Before John walked after him, he faced the mercenary and extended his hand.

"John Kane. Nice to meet you. Fancy a chat when I am done?"

The mercenary faced him for a few seconds, his face a set stone. Then, without extending his hand, he said

"Chris Avellone, I will be here when you are done."

Kane, business finished, walked after William. The warehouse sickened him. It sank of sweat and blood. In one room that he passed, he saw 4 addicts quivering after receiving their daily dose. In another, a wealthy businessman was slapping about a young teenager. As he walked into Jones' office, he saw another tribal woman being branded, the two letters, WJ, embossed onto the back of her shoulder. If Kane ruled Kudos, this sort of thing wouldn't happen. But he was just an enforcer, Kane smiled to himself, thinking above his position. That sort of thinking could get you killed.

"Glad to see your humour is coming more to my thinking."

William chuckled to himself.

"Not quite Bill, not quite. I need to know about these rumours."

"Ah the rumours, anything in particular you wish to know."

"The miners, Bill, tell me about the miners."

"Euch. Bad business that. They would come from the mountains to the North. They would come screaming about people seemingly appearing from thin air and advancing upon them. Then the miners would start hearing voices in their head, shouting freedom. Then the figures would vanish. Scary stuff. If you people didn't shoot them quickly, they would go insane and blast their heads of anyway. No offence to the Harrows or anything."

"None taken" John was used to people badmouthing the Harrows. It was not his place to start busting up mouths, but Frederick was known to track down bad mothers and remove their ability to badmouth. It was a dirty rumour that said he had a large collection of tongues kept in a jar in one of his ornamental rooms.

"The mountains to the North, how many people are up there?"

"Not many, maybe a hundred. Nobody seems to bother about them. They make a living prospecting. Some of them get quite rich on it. Harrow takes its cut and everybody is happy. Apart from the insane miners obviously."

"Hmm, I guess I will have to take a trip up there. Thank you for your time Bill."

"Anytime John, its always nice talking to you, maybe get me a cut next week?"

"Nice try Bill, see you next week."

"Hehe. Whatever John. Talk to you later."

John turned and walked back down the corridor. Another woman was being branded, this time a younger girl with blonde girl. She screamed and it went right through John. His fingers itched towards his p90, but interfering with business was against Harrow policy, that would have to come later. For now, he would have to settle for Avellone.

"Your back, so you survived then."

"How long have you been in town for?"

"Long enough to know how things are done around here.

"What do you think of William Jones' business?"

"Enough to know he pays well."

"Where do you come from?"

"New Reno, born and bred."

"Very nice, living life in a real shit hole then."

"That's my hometown, watch it."

"Hehe. You have any training?"

"I worked for NCR for a bit, but I got didn't like the discipline."

"Okay. You mind if I keep an eye on you, Harrow is always on the lookout for good mercs. I will see you around Chris."

"Of that I have no doubt."

Kane walked the rest of the way down the street; he thought that it might be dangerous going into the mountains on his own. He did not want to ring Andrews, he hated to admit it, but the man scared him. However, there were few people in the town that he trusted enough to take into the mountains with him. However, maybe she would do it. He walked into the slimier districts of the town, which for a town like Kudos, was really saying something. The woman called herself Moonlight. She was a tribal that he had saved from being beaten when she entered the town claiming to be some sort of priestess demanding tribute. He had left her with one of the whore houses in Kudos' red light district. He knew he was condemning her, but here was nowhere left to go. Rumour had it that she was now in control of one of the houses. He knew she would do well, she had bust up 3 of the guys beating her before he got on the scene. However, she had broken three fingers and her left elbow was useless. She would have died had he not intervened. And that meant that she owed him one. He now intended to collect. He walked down the street, many of the eyes of scantily clad women followed him. A few made calls out to him.

"Fancy one, on the cheap"

"Hello cutey, I could give you a free one."

Kane tried hard to keep his eyes from straying from the road in front of him. Most of the women looked worse than slagheaps. Life in Kudos was hard, and it took its toll and everyone that lived there. Kane had the scars to show that much. His hand kept straying to his side subconsciously, but he knew he had little to fear here. Most of the women were drunk or high; they did not pose much of a threat. The few pimps that did inhabit this area of the town were much too scared to do anything to a Harrow enforcer. The establishment that he had left Moonlight at was on of the better places in this part of town. However, it still didn't mean much in a place where running water was a luxury and fresh food was unheard of.

The place looked as decrepit as it had been when Kane had left it 4 months ago. One of the side walls had collapsed in on itself and it had been modified to look like a lean to. The roof has so many holes in it that it served more as little more than gauze to stop most of the water getting in. The door swung uselessly on one hinge, the other long disintegrated under constant battering. The window frames of every opening had been shattered, probably by people being thrown out of them. A small pool lay at the front of the building, and Kane did not want to think about what it consisted of. The smell told him more than he wanted to know.

He walked towards the door, each step squelching in the excrement that filmed all of the streets in this part of town. He did not bother knocking, instead simply lifted the door and crouched underneath it. The room was unsettlingly quiet. Normally the usual hustle and bustle of the brothel was quite comforting, in some sick way. He felt normally amongst the scum of humanity that frequented this particular area of the town. However, there was none of that today. The uneasiness made Kane feel strange. It was as is there was a chill in the air.

"You have been asking about us John Kane."

Kane span and his hand grabbed his p90. As he spun, he dropped onto one knee so that when he faced the figures behind him he was already in a firing position, the submachine gun firmly placed into his shoulder and he was looking down the sight at them. There were three brown robed men, each with their arms folded into their habits. Their faces were covered by hoods and Kane could only see the outline of their faces. His finger was willing him to pull the trigger, but his training steadied him. It would help nobody if he let loose here.

"Who the fuck are you guys?"

"Nice to meet you as well John. We are The Future. We have been watching you John."

"Right, you guys are starting to freak me out. Tell me who the fuck you are or I promise I will waste your ass."

"Calm down John. We only want to talk. My name is Nemesis, this is Despair, and this is Truth"

Their voices weren't quite human and they ate away at his mind, lingering there long after they had stopped speaking. 'We are The Future, We are The Future' kept bouncing around inside his head.

"What the fuck do you guys want?" Kane's was shakier than he could have imagined. He swore at himself for feeling such fear at looking at these three figures.

"We are here to liberate Kudos. You know how it has dragged itself into the depths." One of the other figures visibly rippled at that phrase. "We only want what is best for the people. The Harrows rule at of tyranny. They do not deserve their place as leaders. We can change all of that. And you can help us."

John thought about this for a few moments. What they were saying was true. Kudos was a hell. The Harrows weren't perfect. Maybe these guys were speaking truth. Visions of glistening white walls, and people happily living of the green land filled his mind. People would not need weapons or armour; they could all live in harmony. The war that had so ravaged the land centuries earlier could be forgotten. Under the leadership of The Future, humanity could once again become the dominant species of the world.

John snarled. He had been seen psykers before. He could smell the ozone that stank out the room, exuding from the three figures. His mind was being played with. It was true, the Harrows were not perfect, but they were much better than the anarchy that would prevail if they did not exist.

"Have you made your decision Mr. Kane?"

"Yes. Fuck you."

John opened fire and screamed a curse at the three figures, at the pimps that worked the vulnerable women in this part of time, at William Jones and his slaves and his drugs, at everything that was wrong with the world. The p90 had a huge 50 round clip and it took a few seconds before the clip ran dry. The cloaks collapsed and fell on the floor. He felt someone grab his shoulder and he rolled forward and drew his Sig-Saeur drawing an instant bead at an olive skinned woman who was draped with a cloak over her shoulder.

"John, you wee screaming and firing. What is wrong?"

John scanned the room; all that was left of the figures were the bullet riddled cloaks that the three figures wore.

"John? What is wrong, I walked in and you started firing at thin air."

"They were here. Three of them…they were in the room with us."

"Okay John. Its okay I will look after you."

John's vision went dizzy and then dark and he collapsed onto the floor.