Author's note: Thanks to spargusfastestracer on tumblr for helping me come up with a name for Rayn's aide. He was this close to being called Aiden, tho'.
Razer's last name is an homage to Nashidesei, who thought of it in the olden days. It somehow even ended up on this site's "Characters involved in this fanfic" pick-list by mistake. Oops.
It's German for "danger."
Chapter three, Chain
Like most cities – Spargus had proven to be a surprising exception, once Razer had actually visited it for the championship – Kras had different sections for different kinds of people. The borders weren't always obvious for the uninitiated. Mostly it showed in how the houses were built. They were all apartment buildings, of course, because Kras had limited space to work with and villas were therefore out of the question, but balconies were a good sign that you had left the slum far behind you.
The bars called themselves restaurants, and there were fewer neon signs. The music changed from pounding to more refined tunes played with violins, and there was less drunk singing and laughing. Here, the really bad stuff – in some ways worse than in the slums – went on behind closed doors and lowered shutters.
The traffic didn't change much, of course. But here, Sig stood out like a sore thumb, even though he wasn't wearing the armor Razer had seen him in when he first appeared in the city in the middle of one of Blitz's mocking interviews with Jak's team. It wasn't his skin color – though that certainly contributed – but rather the way he moved. Everyone else clung together in groups, seeking cover from the fear of being mugged. They were also far better dressed. Suspicious stares followed the rough giant of a man that stomped up the street.
Razer found himself amused by it. As far as he could tell, people hardly noticed that he was following the strange intruder. He would normally at least be recognized as a famous racer, but his air and appearance also made him fit in better in areas like this. Mostly because he felt right at home here. Mizo had been generous in that way – and it had suited a champion.
Of course, Razer felt just as at home in the seedier areas too. That hadn't required training.
Sig didn't say a word the whole way, and while Razer felt tempted to throw a few teasing jibes at the man out of habit, the big Wastelander wasn't his type. His mind was also a bit too preoccupied with contemplating what waited for him at the other end of this walk – and wondering why the Wastelander was fetching him there anyway. He only needed to look at his guide to know that there would be no answers given, however. Experience also told him that it may be safer to stay ignorant.
A few blocks into the area, Sig stopped by one of the big apartment houses and punched in a long code to open the gate. It led into a dark hallway that automatically lit up when they entered. The elevators were both in use, and Sig didn't stop to wait for them. Instead he just went for the stairs, and Razer followed with a shrug.
Two flights of stairs later they entered a corridor with numbered doors at fair distances from each other, hinting at the sizes of the apartments. Sig strode down the way and stopped by one of the doors, where he knocked and then took a step back so that he was clearly visible through the peeping hole.
A few seconds passed, and then the door was opened by a thin, middle-aged man with a notepad in his pocket and a pair of thin glasses balancing on his nose. He looked like what one would get when taking every cliché about rigid female secretaries and gender-bending them.
He gave Sig a nod, then looked outside and gave Razer a pleasant smile.
"Welcome, Sir. Miss Rayn is looking forward to seeing you. I'm her aide, Chilton."
Razer made a non-committal sound. The man exuded an air of snooty stuffiness that, with just a glance, made the racer feel bored.
Chilton glanced back to Sig and made a motion at him.
"Show him in."
With a grunt, Sig entered and Razer followed, passing the aide without a second glance. Inside, the apartment was of the typical stale, functionalist Kras style, with a long straight corridor with rooms along the way, facing each other. The two men headed down the corridor towards a door in the back.
Everything from wall to ceiling was painted or draped in soft, gentle colors and the paintings on the walls depicted only pleasant landscapes and flower arrangements. There was an atmosphere of elegance to everything.
However, the floor creaked something awful – just the fact that it was made of wood said something about the cost of the place. In this steel and concrete city, natural materials did not come cheap. And a creaky floor also doubled as a safety insurance, making it harder for intruders to perform a surprise attack.
Mizo had kept tabs on Rayn, of course, and kept Razer informed enough for him to know that this part of the city had not been their rival's home turf before. But now she had taken a leap upwards, and she had moved in very quickly, yet efficiently. There was not a painting on the wall that tilted the slightest bit, every potted plant in every room placed perfectly. If he hadn't known she'd lived in simpler quarters before, Razer might not have picked up on the air of a new home.
Reaching the end of the corridor, Sig knocked on the door with quite a bit more force than necessary.
Razer noted that there was an indentation in the wall, at just the right height for a punch mark. He glanced up at Sig, and pondered the fact that there was most likely concrete behind the wallpaper.
"Enter," came Rayn's voice from the other side of the door.
Sig pulled it open and stepped inside and to the side. When Razer had entered, the Wastelander closed the door behind him.
All things considered, Razer had half expected Rayn to stand by the window, sipping tea from a flowery cup. Instead, she stood behind a neat wooden desk set in the middle of the room, upon which heaps of paper and writing material laid lined up. Arms neatly folded, a businesswoman's smile on her lips. The heavy curtains were drawn over the windows, so that only the electric light from the ceiling illuminated the room – not that it would have made much difference, as the outside was dark and lit only by the neon signs and streetlights. It did give the room a claustrophobic atmosphere, however, despite the nice, soft carpet and light colors on pretty much everything.
It was clearly an office, what with the desk being the main piece of furniture, and the bookshelves lining the walls – not filled with books, but ring binders.
Razer stopped a little ways away from the desk, keeping the piece between him and Rayn.
"Welcome," she said. "Thank you for not smoking."
"I put that off during important meetings," he replied with a smooth smile. He cocked his head to his side. "So. Now how should I interpret your signals when you bring me into your home like this?"
"I'm not one to waste talents such as yours, Mr. Gefahr," Rayn said.
Razer's eyebrows twitched.
"My, my, you are a very talented woman yourself, to have dug that up," he said. Then he chuckled and shrugged. "I am not so rude as to make assumptions about having a choice in this matter."
"I'm glad that we understand each other." Rayn walked around the desk, and the two of them shook hands. She smiled pleasantly up at Razer. "I welcome you informing me about things you liked and disliked about your last employer. I prefer to have satisfied employees."
The floor creaked behind Razer's back, and he could easily imagine Sig shifting his weight. Even that somehow seemed to convey quiet fury, and Razer felt certain that it wasn't just his imagination. Whichever was the case, it did earn Rayn's attention. She took a step to the side so that she could look straight at the Wastelander.
"Ah yes," she said, as if just remembering that he was even there. "You may go. But be sure to follow your instructions, understand?"
"Yes, alright," Sig growled as he turned to leave.
"What was that?" Rayn said, her voice hard as steel.
Sig flinched as if the words struck him like a lash. The glance over his shoulder was that of a furious, chained animal.
"Yes, Miss Rayn," he said through his teeth.
"Better."
The door closed behind Sig. A moment later there was a hard smash from the other side. Rayn shook her head and sighed as she sat down in her chair, absently gathering up a few of the papers before her. She knocked them against the desk to stack them up.
"No smart comments, if you please," she said without looking at Razer. "I assure you that I've got him under control."
Razer chose his words very carefully. It wouldn't do to make your new boss angry on the first day, after all, and he had a feeling that this was a very delicate subject.
"May I just advice a bit of caution?" he said, looking towards the door. "If pushed too far, he will leave a smoking crater behind."
"Oh yes, certainly." Rayn's lips twisted in a cool smile. "But it won't be anywhere but where I point."
Razer's eyebrows twitched, but he refrained from commenting on how she must have some amazing dirt on the Wastelander, since she was so confident.
"I'll take your word for it," he said instead in a diplomatic tone, and inclined his head towards the door. "I see there is no need to worry about heavy muscle."
"No."
Rayn flicked through the paper stack and then set it aside. Every move she made was measured and thoughtful. Businesslike. She was ice, where Mizo had been explosive and loud. It was something new, and Razer still wasn't sure whether he liked it or not. Mizo had made him seethe and clench his fist in his pocket on many occasions throughout the years – but was the devil you knew worse than the devil you didn't?
Well, if he wanted to keep breathing, he had better just hang on and go with it.
"Sig is worth five of Mizo's old muscle combined," Rayn said. She folded her fingers into a little platform and daintily rested her chin on it as she studied Razer. "Ten, if we're talking about intelligence."
"You're being unfair to him," Razer said with a soft chuckle.
Rayn responded with a little smile. It was an amused smile, which was good. But it was also a silent, merciless question. It wasn't difficult for Razer to catch on.
"If you wish to keep him from getting into fights with your own men," Razer said, "there are a few of Mizo's old guard that you don't want, and should probably weed out immediately. For example, Shiv and Edje might pass, but Cutter almost got a walking stick through his brain for getting into Kleiver's mechanic's face."
"A walking stick?" Rayn said, raising an elegant eyebrow.
Razer shrugged.
"The mechanic is a cripple, and has dark skin to boot," he said. "Cutter doesn't know when to quit about such things."
"Ah, well. That disqualifies him, especially under the current circumstances."
Rayn flicked through the papers again, took one out and put it beside the heap. Razer wasn't close enough to see what was on it, but it wasn't that hard to guess.
"Current?" he mildly said.
"Unfortunately, I'm afraid that there is no second chances given at the hiring process."
"I can't say I'll miss him," Razer said with a shrug. He glanced at the door. A concern that had been fizzling in the back of his head refused to be ignored any longer. "Offhand, however… isn't there a risk that our troublesome golden boy will come looking for his friend?"
The pause lasted hardly more a fraction of a second, but Razer still noticed it.
"There is no need to worry about Jak and the others," Rayn said. She only looked up as she continued, "I assure you that Sig will not want to be found."
Razer didn't press the issue, only giving an elegant, slanted smile and an understanding nod in response. Clearing her throat to make absolutely clear that that particular discussion was over, Rayn absently knocked the paper stack against the desk again.
"But let's forget everyone else for the time being, and discuss your position," she said.
They – or rather, Rayn – hammered out the basic practicalities after that. It pleased her that Razer made it clear that he fully understood his position, and did not make a fuss. Not that she presented any difficulties for him. He was too useful, too intelligent, and too much of a symbol of Kras City as the racing king, even after his recent losses. He was theirs, after all. Jak might have won the latest championship, but he was an outsider. They'd get him next time.
Once Razer had all the information Rayn felt he currently needed, she sent him away. It was very late by then, and she sent Chilton home as well. He, of course, showed no sign of being tired or bothered by having had to wait on her for nothing but a goodnight. He left a tray with a pot of hot herbal tea, a waiting cup and a small plate with neatly sliced lemons, and went away with a polite nod and agreement to come in early the next morning.
Rayn waited until she had heard the apartment door close, then went to lock it herself. Returning to her office, she poured herself a cup of tea and squeezed a bit of lemon into the flowery cup.
She allowed a smile at herself. It had been a good day.
Of course, there was still a lot of work to do. To little surprise, not all the crime lords had been prepared to accept her father and Mizo's bet as a binding contract. It had been quite the discussion.
Some of the dissenters would have to be dealt with. But that was a concern for another day. The whole building was heavily guarded and she was already gaining strength. With Razer, a lot of manpower would follow simply because a lot of Mizo's men had nobody else to turn to.
And then there was Sig.
She set the cup aside and opened a locked drawer in the desk, pulling out one of the many data disks her father had left her. All of them contained advice, plans, or as with the "will", ways to help her climb. This one, too, was special.
It took a little while to write in the password, since it was nearly thirty symbols long. Finally the little light above the keypad turned green, and she pushed the "Start" button, just as she had done many times before.
The data disk made a whirring sound, and she placed it on the desk.
With a soft blip, a flash of light came from the small projector and a transparent image of Krew appeared in the air, taking up a large amount of the space in the room. He threw out his arms in a bombastic greeting gesture, starting off with a big grin for the first couple of sentences.
"Hello, Sig. I'm going to assume that you're not listening to this while on the run from Mizo with my little Rayn." Krew's eyebrows lowered and his voice became a guttural growl. "But if you are, you had better take good, good care of her."
He swept around in a wide arc, circling the now empty spot on the carpet where Sig had stood earlier in the evening. Sig hadn't let Krew get behind him even though it was just a recording, turning to follow his every sweep. Hands clenching, ready for a useless strike that was never delivered. Until he left the room and punched the wall, at least. Rayn sighed at the memory of that. They would have to talk about that kind of behavior.
"Mm, now then, in case things did not go as planned, I'm sure you already know I did prepare an antidote for both of you, just in case. You see, I couldn't possibly leave my little princess without a knight."
And a toothy smirk. Sig had just stared at him, eyebrows creeping lower and lower as his lips drew away from his tightly clenched teeth in a silent snarl.
"But!" Krew threw up his arms and did a playful little pirouette in the air. Rayn had always admired how her father could be so flippant about his physical condition, and used his technology to make himself so much more graceful than he could be without it. "Like I said, I expect everything went smoothly. But, even if you don't need to protect Rayn from Mizo, you will help her with everything else she wants. Oh no, no, no! Hold it right there."
He raised a plump hand heavy with rings.
"You watch that temper, old bean. Even if you smash this data disk, there are copies of the interesting part. Rayn has several, of course, but she doesn't even know where half of the rest are. And should anything happen to her…"
Krew's voice lowered to a dangerous snarl.
"… every last one will be sent out to people you'd prefer never found out about this."
He snapped his fingers and disappeared. Instead, a smaller image appeared of him, hovering in the air and looking at something. The sound of a door creaking open made him turn his head, and an image of Sig walked into existence.
"I have it," Sig said, pulling a bag from his belt. He opened it and drew out a pitch black flower on a long, slithering stalk.
Black shade.
"Flowers for me, 'ey?" Krew said with a toothy grin as he drifted closer.
He plucked the prize from Sig's hand and studied it, making sure that it was the real thing. Satisfied, he looked down on the silent Wastelander.
"I'm, mm, impressed you actually managed to get one." He smirked, nodding. "Good to see that I'm as good a judge as always. You are an investment."
"Told you I can get any dirty job done," Sig replied with a slanted smirk.
The small images shattered and the full-sized Krew returned, rapping his fingertips against each other.
"Well Sig, I wouldn't put you through this for anybody but Rayn, you know that, 'ey?" He tilted forwards, his little eyes thin. "I'm sure we understand each other, from a business perspective."
He lingered like that for a moment before spinning around, suddenly smiling.
"Sorry about not putting a bow on him, Rayn dear," Krew said with a throaty chortle. "I'm afraid that he would resist that. Ah well…"
Rayn smiled sadly, feeling her heart swell at the familiar, smug grin her father sent her from the past. It was a winking grin for just the two of them, when he had something planned that he knew she would love.
"Well, my darling, he's all yours."
And with that, her father's image disappeared. A couple of seconds later, the data disk automatically switched off. Rayn picked it up and stood for a moment, just looking at it, before pressing it to her chest. He had truly planned for everything to give her a fair start, but the continuation she would have to spin herself. None of his gifts were light, and she would use every advantage he had offered.
True that she had thought him too soft at times, but then again it's quite natural for an ambitious child to want to surpass their parent.
Sig would never call her "kitten" again. She would have to live with that.
And so would Sig.