Vienna Station by Robert Walton Read Free Book Online

sure what I should try to explain. The gangs here are hereditary. Luis was born into the Sepulveda Crippas. That’s the rose under his left eye.”
    “The skull on his left arm?
    “He’s killed.”
    “The daggers beneath it?”
    “Six times.”
    Mozart stiffens. “Six times!”
    “The government, the police, the copters, they’re for this.” I nod toward the Genuflect compound. “They’re for protecting property and the people who own it. Those people have given up on Torrance. There are lots of places along Sepulveda that haven’t seen a cop, a fireman, or an ambulance in years. That’s where the gangs come in. They fill a vacuum. It’s perverted, but they are the government.”
    “How can that be?”
    “Whose fault is it? The corporations? The gangs? The thugs in both? I don’t know, but that mugger last night, if he’d gotten us Luis would have taken him down.”
    Mozart looks at me. “You grew up in this place?”
    “I got out as soon as I could. Music got me out. There was a Sistema program after school and there were teachers who helped me. They couldn’t help everybody.”
    Mozart nods to himself. “Music is underestimated as a force for good. I hope to change that. I hope to change that down here.”
    I take a deep breath. “Smell that? It’s the sea and the offshore farms. Those farms are where the only jobs are, one job for every fifteen gang members. They don’t have a chance.”
    Mozart shakes his head. “There must be a different way.”
    I look at him. “Don’t get me wrong. The gangs are bad, but the people in them aren’t all bad. Also, they do some useful things in their own neighborhoods.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “No. Plenty of SS men were probably nice to their mothers. And the trains ran on time.”
    Mozart looks down. “I didn’t mean to be judgmental.”
    I pat his hand again. “You weren’t. It’s just more complicated than it seems. Also, there are deals. Gangs and government have blended at some level. They often work together both on exploitation of ordinary people and control. I can’t imagine when it will end, or how.”
    A dark figure stalks along the fence to our right, approaches us. It is Luis. He is dressed in black and wears a black bandana. He slides to the ground next to Mozart and breathes heavily for a moment.
    I lean close. “What’s up, Luis?”
    Luis takes another deep breath. “Very tough. Dober-bots, falls, zap patches and the fence.” He glances at Mozart. “You got that stuff to take out the sensors?”
    Mozart nods. “Yes. I’ll go to work. You have the cutters?”
    Luis rummages in a bag on the ground and pulls out heavy-duty bolt cutters. He holds them up. “Let’s go.”
    They rise and trot to the boundary fence. I trail behind them. They kneel. Mozart extracts a small tablet computer from his backpack, connects it to the chain links with thin fiber-optic wires. He brings up a program and adjusts it with rapid finger taps. He then gets out what looks like a miniature microwave dish. He nods to Luis.
    Luis quickly cuts a neat, man-sized hole in the fence. He pulls the cut piece carefully toward him and discards it to the side. Mozart touches the dish’s base. A red light comes on and the device beeps.
    Luis glances at it. “What’s that for?”
    Mozart adjusts the dish. “Motion sensors on the building. This will feed them a signal to make them happy.” He places the dish inside the fence to the left side of the entrance hole. He looks at Luis. “Ready.”
    Luis rises and darts through the hole first. Mozart and I follow. We walk over flat, bare ground. Reflected light from the floodlit buildings seventy meters ahead creates twilight around us. Luis stops.
    “There’s a holo-disguised deadfall just ahead.”
    I look past him and see nothing.
    “It’s at least four meters deep. Step to your right and follow me. We do. Only thirty meters separate us from the first building. Luis slows, stops.
    He whispers, “There’s