Free Africa Zero by Neal Asher

their ability to cause suffering a mark of their
sanctity. It was an old old story. The robes this one wore were called ‘pain patterned’.
The cloth was stained by being wrapped around the bodies of unbelievers before
the poor unfortunates were crushed to death with stones. Around his neck
depended a small wooden chair on a string. After a moment’s consideration I
decided Diana could not have chosen any better allies. They hated me and what I
represented, and I would kill any of them without compunction. I picked up a
sodden section of tree trunk and moved in.
    His
concentration on the further bank was such that he did not hear me until I was
climbing onto the back of the promontory. He turned, firing as he did so and
setting the jungle afire behind me and to my left. I threw the sodden tree
trunk at him and it hit him across the chest and arms before the fire reached
me. With a gasp he fell back into the river and I quickly dived after. I caught
hold of him at the edge of the rock as he was trying to crawl out and hoist the
APW up before him at the same time. I picked him up by the scruff, snapped the
strap of the APW and pulled it away from him. He did not seem to be able to use
his arms anyway.
    “There’s
a few things I want to ask you,” I said.
    All
he managed to do was gasp and look at me in confusion. I dropped him to the
ground then sat down nearby while he recovered. It took him quite a while.
Eventually he looked up and spat blood on the rock before me.
    “Demon!”
he said and looked down, panting, waiting.
    “It
might well be that I won’t kill you,” I said. “Just answer a few questions for
me and I’ll let you go.”
    “I
will tell you nothing.”
    “Fine,
do you think you will still have that attitude after I’ve broken a few of your
fingers, then your arms . . . oh, sorry, arm. I see I’ve already done for the
other one.”
    I
stepped forwards. He shuffled back up onto his knees.
    “I
fear you not, agent of Satan.”
    “Tell
me simply, did the Silver One put you up to this?”
    “I
will tell you nothing. Do you think I do not know pain?”
    “Oh
yes, you know how to inflict it. Do you know how to suffer it, though?” I
reached down and grabbed his broken arm before he could pull away. I twisted it
a bit so the rough ends of bone grated. He screamed with full voice. It should
not really have hurt all that much as he was still in shock and overloaded with
adrenaline. I desisted.
    “Now,
will you answer my question?”
    “Oh
God the Father of Christos send to your servant...” He rambled on and on. I
could see that if I allowed this to continue he would work himself into a
frenzy and I would get nowhere. I grabbed him by his broken arm and dragged him
to the edge of the promontory. He yelled, stopped his mumbo jumbo and hung
there, sobbing. I took my JMCC handgun out and shot it into the water. There
was a blinding purple flash and a jet of steam and boiling water five metres
high. A lot of it fell on my captive. He yelled some more.
    “Crocky!”
I called. “Oh Crocky!”
    My
friend was not long in coming. Perhaps he had been hanging around in the hope
of more fish. There was a hell of a swirl then there he was with his nose
resting on the rock. He looked at me with those unsettling eyes of his and as
he swished his tail from side to side to maintain his position it was as if he
was wagging it. I wondered just how much Alsatian had gone into his genes.
    “You
are a demon! You’re a demon!” He said it like he believed it this time. He was
staring at the crocodile bug-eyed.
    “Call
me what you like. Your opinions and the opinions of your kind are irrelevant to
me. Now, it was a simple question, and she probably wants me to know anyway.
Did the Silver One put you up to this?”
    There
was a long pause, then he nodded his head.
    “That’s
better. She supplied you with the rifle?” He nodded his head again. I wondered
where she had cached them and how many more there were. He