The dark-skinned trader walked with a casual swagger that stank of masked insecurities. As a weapons dealer, Tanir operated within one of the riskier sectors of Chalice's thriving economy. The quasi-criminal community had a sizable stake in the weapons import and distribution trade within Chalice, and minor skirmishes between stake holders were not uncommon. The gangs had become very adept at keeping their warfare well within Fred's tolerance thresholds, and collateral damage and civilian casualties were kept to a minimum; in fact, it was quoted by those in the know that an innocent death resultant from a gang conflict hadn’t occurred in six months now. However, as a dealer, Tanir's death would be well within the sphere of acceptable gang-related casualties.
What made it considerably worse for old Tanir was that he specialised in custom and exotic firearms, especially those that pushed the envelope regarding Fred's ban on military-grade gear. His target market was the ultra-rich crime bosses and other dubious millionaires with either a need for or interest in expensive guns. Maxwell had no idea where the man sourced his products, but he was sure some of them were manufactured here on Chalice.
Tanir was dressed in a black suit, black shirt and black tie, and his greasy black hair was moulded with what looked like machine oil. He carried a large matt black case in his right hand, produced his left hand and a cracked smile in greeting.
Maxwell shook the sweaty hand and gestured to the dark leather couches fortifying the glass coffee table in the main room. The space was saturated with bright sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling window opposite the entry way, capturing the buzzing complexity of Needle city at his apartment’s appreciable altitude. Tanir remarked on the view with a convincing sense of awe. Undoubtedly, the man had seen plenty of astounding vistas in his other clients' lofty penthouses and private towers.
Tanir placed the matte black case carefully on the glass table top and sat down, spending a moment to adjust his suit jacket.
"A very interesting piece you have commissioned, my friend." He smiled knowingly, "one of considerable beauty."
Maxwell simply nodded. As the number of targets he killed increased, so would his notoriety. Upgrading his armour and weaponry was in preparation for his job becoming more complicated; it turns out some people didn’t want to die despite their crimes. Maxwell also couldn’t shake the feeling that one day, it would be Fred hiring someone else to get rid of him. He needed to be ready for that eventuality, too.
Tanir didn't seem discouraged by his taciturn demeanour.
"You’re a man with a taste for antiques, right?"
Maxwell nodded. "When it comes to guns, yes."
Tanir brandished his gleaming teeth with an enthusiastic smile. "Well, without further ado...
Tanir reached out, unclipped the clasps at the front of the long case, and spun the box on its axis so it faced Maxwell.
He lifted the lid. "Ta daaa!"
Nestled within the black foam rested a form of metallic perfection, an icon of almost spiritual beauty for those who worshipped the god of steel. The weapon had two long cylindrical barrels ending just above the stock. The barrels were the same flawless silver as his revolvers, polished to an eye-watering shine. The stock was clad in oak, also polished to a flawless sheen. The grain of the wood was unmistakably genuine, or at least Maxwell hoped it was.
Maxwell pulled the case forward eagerly, slipping his fingers delicately under the cold steel of the twin barrels, levering the weapon out of its foam cradle. Such a simplistic design with such intrinsic elegance. The gun was heavy as he slipped a hand around the partial grip moulded out of the stock’s underbelly. It was comfortable, and the trigger guard was the perfect size for his index finger. The craftsmanship was sublime. He found the discrete release catch on the side of the body and pressed it. The weapon hinged open to around 45 degrees, exposing the loading chambers for each barrel.
A weapon enthusiast would label it a break-open, side-by-side, double-barrelled shotgun. Maxwell had had it modelled off weapons created in the 20th century by a company called Kimber. After some research, the Valier model pushed enough buttons inside him to become the ideal candidate for his remake. However, this was no ordinary side-by-side shotgun.
“Is it powered up?” He asked Tanir
“Of course, the micro lattice in it should last more than a decade.”
Maxwell opened his cortical web’s equipment management tab and found shotgun’s processor patiently waiting for him to link to it. He established the bond, and the weapon opened up within his mind. A notification also indicated that the weapon was installing the relevant software on his web. He ran a security scan to ensure Tanir and his associates hadn’t placed any nasty surprises in the weapons control functions.
It took ten seconds for the weapon to fully integrate with his Web’s management programs. He now had access to the gun’s monitoring functions, such as those for barrel temperature and lubrication status. However, the feature that Maxwell was most proud of was the system he had installed to automatically adjust the barrel alignment according to the range of his target. Part of the reason the side-by-side design disappeared from common usage was that the barrels were not parallel but were positioned to converge at a fixed range, say thirty meters. Maxwell’s remodelled Valier synced with his Web’s targeting software and adjusted the alignment in real-time, ensuring the shots from each barrel converged on the target if it was a meter away, or a hundred meters.
Tanir continued, "as you requested, the weapon is compatible with explosive ammunition, plasma fixture and standard ballistics; have you found someone to fabricate the ammunition? ‘Cause you ain’t gonna find anything for that on the market here. Hell, I don’t know how you're even going to shoot the damn thing, the calibre-”
"Gauge", Maxwell corrected him.
Tanir frowned. "What?".
"Never mind"
He smiled again, still not discouraged.
"...the calibre of that thing is cannon-like. That reminds me, you might not wanna go flashing that thing in public; Fred’s sure not to approve of the things specifications"
Maxwell lifted the gun in his right hand and snapped the barrels up into the closed position with a casual flick of the wrist. "That shouldn't be a problem."
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