by Robert Shea
Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
MUTINEER
By ROBERT J. SHEA
_For every weapon there was a defense, but not against the deadliest weapon--man himself!_
Raging, Trooper Lane hovered three thousand feet above Tammany Square.
The cool cybrain surgically implanted in him was working on the problem.But Lane had no more patience. They'd sweat, he thought, hating thechill air-currents that threw his hovering body this way and that. Heglared down at the three towers bordering on the Square. He spat, andwatched the little white speck fall, fall. _Lock me up in barracks. AllI wanted was a little time off. Did I fight in Chi for them? Damn rightI did. Just a little time off, so I shouldn't blow my top. Now the lid'sgone._
He was going over all their heads. He'd bowled those city cops over likepaper dolls, back at the Armory. The black dog was on Lane's back. OldMayor himself was going to hear about it.
_Why not? Ain't old Mayor the CinC of the Newyork Troopers?_
The humming paragrav-paks embedded beneath his shoulder blades held himmotionless above Newyork's three administrative towers. Tammany Hall.Mayor's Palace. Court House. Lane cursed his stupidity. He hadn't foundout which one was which ahead of time. _They keep Troopers in the Armoryand teach them how to fight. They don't teach them about their own city,that they'll be fighting for. There's no time. From seven years old up,Troopers have too much to learn about fighting._
The Mayor was behind one of those thousands of windows.
Old cybrain, a gift from the Trooper surgeons, compliments of the city,would have to figure out which one. Blood churned in his veins, nervesshrieked with impatience. Lane waited for the electronic brain to comeup with the answer.
Then his head jerked up, to a distant buzz. There were cops coming. Twoblack paragrav-boats whirred along the translucent underside ofNewyork's anti-missile force-shield, the Shell.
_Old cybrain better be fast. Damn fast!_
The cybrain jolted an impulse through his spine. Lane somersaulted.Cybrain had taken charge of his motor nerves. Lane's own mind was justalong for the ride.
* * * * *
His body snapped into a stiff dive position. He began to plummet down,picking up speed. His mailed hands glittered like arrowheads out infront. They pointed to a particular window in one of the towers. Apredatory excitement rippled through him as he sailed down through theair. It was like going into battle again. A little red-white-and-greenflag fluttered on a staff below the window. Whose flag? The city flagwas orange and blue. He shrugged away the problem. Cybrain knew what itwas doing.
The little finger of his right hand vibrated in its metal sheath. A palevibray leaped from the lensed fingertip. Breakthrough! The glassticpane dissolved. Lane streamed through the window.
The paragrav-paks cut off. Lane dropped lightly to the floor, inside theroom, in battle-crouch. A 3V set was yammering. A girl screamed. Lane'shand shot out automatically. A finger vibrated. Out of the corner of hiseye, Lane saw the girl fold to the floor. There was no one else in theroom. Lane, still in a crouch, chewed his lip.
_The Mayor?_
His head swung around and he peered at the 3V set. He saw his own face.
"Lashing police with his vibray," said the announcer, "Lane brokethrough the cordon surrounding Manhattan Armory. Two policemen werekilled, four others seriously injured. Tammany Hall has warned that thisman is extremely dangerous. Citizens are cautioned to keep clear of him.Lane is an insane killer. He is armed with the latest military weapons.A built-in electronic brain controls his reflexes--"
"At ease with that jazz," said Lane, and a sheathed finger snapped out.There was a loud bang. The 3V screen dissolved into a puddle ofglasstic.
_The Mayor._
Lane strode to the window. The two police boats were hovering above thetowers. Lane's mailed hand snapped open a pouch at his belt. He flippeda fist-sized cube to the floor.
The force-bomb "exploded"--swelled or inflated, really, but with thespeed of a blast. Lane glanced out the window. A section of the energyglobe bellied out from above. It shaded the view from his window andre-entered the tower wall just below.
Now the girl.
He turned back to the room. "Wake up, outa-towner." He gave the blondegirl a light dose of the vibray to slap her awake.
"Who are you?" she said, shakily.
Lane grinned. "Trooper Lane, of the Newyork Special Troops, is all." Hethrew her a mock salute. "You from outa-town, girlie. I ain't seen aNewyork girl with yellow hair in years. Orange or green is the action.Whatcha doing in the Mayor's room?"
* * * * *
The girl pushed herself to her feet. Built, Lane saw. She was pretty andclean-looking, very out-of-town. She held herself straight and herblue-violet eyes snapped at him.
"What the devil do you think you're doing, soldier? I am a diplomat ofthe Grassroots Republic of Mars. This is an embassy, if you know whatthat means."
"I don't," said Lane, unconcerned.
"Well, you should have had brains enough to honor the flag outside thiswindow. That's the Martian flag, soldier. If you've never heard ofdiplomatic immunity, you'll suffer for your ignorance." Her large, darkeyes narrowed. "Who sent you?"
"My cybrain sent me."
She went openmouthed. "You're _Lane_."
"I'm the guy they told you about on the 3V. Where's the Mayor? Ain'tthis his place?"
"No. No, you're in the wrong room. The wrong building. That's theMayor's suite over there." She pointed. "See where the balcony is? Thisis the Embassy suite. If you want the Mayor you'll have to go overthere."
"Whaddaya know," said Lane. "Cybrain didn't know, no more than me."
The girl noticed the dark swell of the force-globe. "What's that outthere?"
"Force-screen. Nothing gets past, except maybe a full-size blaster-beam.Keeps cops out. Keeps you in. You anybody important?"
"I told you, I'm an ambassador. From Mars. I'm on a diplomatic mission."
"Yeah? Mars a big city?"
She stared at him, violet eyes wide. "The _planet_ Mars."
"Planet? Oh, _that_ Mars. Sure, I've heard of it--you gotta go byspaceship. What's your name?"
"Gerri Kin. Look, Lane, holding me is no good. It'll just get you inworse trouble. What are you trying to do?"
"I wanna see the Mayor. Me and my buddies, we just come back fromfighting in Chi, Gerri. We won. They got a new Mayor out there in Chi.He takes orders from Newyork."
Gerri Kin said, "That's what the force-domes did. The perfect defense.But also the road to the return to city-states. Anarchy."
Lane said, "Yeah? Well, we done what they wanted us to do. We did thefighting for them. So we come back home to Newyork and they lock us upin the Armory. Won't pay us. Won't let us go nowhere. They had copsguarding us. City cops." Lane sneered. "I busted out. I wanna see theMayor and find out why we can't have time off. I don't play games,Gerri. I go right to the top."
Lane broke off. There was a hum outside the window. He whirled andstared out. The rounded black hulls of the two police paragrav-boatswere nosing toward the force-screen. Lane could read the white numberspainted on their bows.
A loudspeaker shouted into the room: "Come out of there, Lane, or we'llblast you out."
"You can't," Lane called. "This girl from Mars is here."
"I repeat, Lane--come out or we'll blast you out."
Lane turned to the girl. "I thought you were important."
* * * * *
She stood there with her hands together, calmly looking at him. "I am.But you are too, to them. Mars is millions of miles away, and you'reright across the Square from the
Mayor's suite."
"Yeah, but--" Lane shook his head and turned back to the window. "Allright, look! Move them boats away and I'll let this girl out!"
"No deal, Lane. We're coming in." The police boats backed away slowly,then shot straight up, out of the line of vision.
Lane looked down at the Square. Far below, the long, gleaming barrel ofa blaster cannon caught the dim light filtering down through Newyork'sShell. The cannon trundled into the Square on its olive-drab, box-shapedcaterpillar mounting and took up a position equidistant from the basesof the three towers.
Now a rumble of many voices rose from below. Lane stared down to see
