by Vance Huxley
“I’d be more worried if you heard voices that weren’t on coms, people approaching.” Bobby looked at the bins. “Pick one.”
“What?”
“To break into. Then the ship can blame you.” Bobby grinned at Mickey’s shocked look. “Though it’s more likely to be upset at Bells for actually wielding the hammer.”
“Hammer?” Bells looked at the lump of metal in his hand. “I wish.” Mickey pointed. “Oke. Stick the point in that crack just under the lock, Hood.” He did, and Bells swung. A clang echoed but without appreciable effect. Another five blows and everyone inspected the crack.
“Maybe it’s wider? Just a bit?” Hood didn’t sound convinced. “Try again.” Bells swung another five times.
“No, it’s not working. Maybe you can punch out the lock?” The small bulge with only three dimples also had a slit in it, they assumed for a keycard. Mickey tried twisting and sliding the opener again without effect. “Still solid. Use this.” He offered a length of round bar with two spikes coming from the side. “Put a spike in that slot.”
Bells passed the ‘hammer’ over to Hood. “Here, I’ll hold and you hit this time.” Even as Hood braced to swing the tappers gave six taps, a warning.
* * *
Everyone froze and Bobby spoke quickly and quietly. “That’s Magpie in the next room, watching the corner. Keep quiet while someone puts their mirror out to look.” They’d all taken one of the brilliantly polished metal plates found in a storeroom as a spy mirror similar to the one Siflis used, though not on a stick and the image wasn’t as clear. Bells moved to the open door, angling his mirror to look at the junction.
“Voices.” Mickey barely murmured the warning, but Bobby had also heard a short exclamation and then hushed tones, too hushed to understand.
The volume went up just a little but Bobby couldn’t hear what the man said, not even enough to work out the language. The unmistakeable tones were a Supervisor wanting a squad member to obey regardless of objections. “Dick,” Bobby breathed.
Hood and Mickey nodded, Mickey with a rueful smile. Bells beckoned so the three of them moved up closer to him, carbins and shotguns ready. Bobby could see the glow of pulsing yellow warning bands in the shiny metal and leaned closer to look. One of the Putes, in a spacesuit but without her helmet, started crossing the corridor end. As she cautiously approached the yellow warning strip she glanced back and gestured up the corridor towards the Basteds.
The man’s voice spoke louder. “Non, la porte.” The woman took another cautious step towards the yellow band, looking up to where the three operable lasers would be tracking her.
“No! Don’t!” Bobby jumped and nearly opened up but the voice came from Bells, waving frantically round the edge of the doorway. The woman dropped and brought her carbin round, hesitated, then rolled back out of sight.
“You stupid basted.” Mickey ground the barrel of his shotgun into the back of Bells’s head, while both Hood and Bobby brought their weapons round to centre on the Super.
“No. First we ask why.” Bobby wanted to shoot Bells as well, because the lasers would have thinned out the Frogs without them even knowing the Basteds were here. Then they’d have come round the corner fat and happy, but already one down. “Well Bells? Why?”
“That was Red because I saw the red streak in her hair. I’d rather join up with them than the arses that hung back and crept in later. The Frogs have used up at least one rocket thing and anyway another might be helpful.” Bells babbled a bit, probably recognising the tone of Bobby’s voice. “They’ll be grateful now?” The last bit definitely sounded more hopeful than confident.
“Maybe. Though the real reason is whatever she whispered. What was it?” Bells had been interested in the woman he called Red before, and obsessed after being pinned and handcuffed in training. Bobby had thought losing the sparring had burned Bells and he’d wanted payback, but now realised it must be something more.
Bells hesitated, then sighed. “She pulled a few hairs from my head then said next time the souvenir was underwear, hers or mine.” He started to move his head but stopped as Mickey pushed the shotgun barrel a little.
“Move that Mickey. We can’t afford to lose him.” In hindsight Bobby should have insisted on knowing what Red whispered, then he would never have put Bells where he might see her unexpectedly. If Bells had one real weakness, it was Divas. “He’s right about this being a good chance to make an ally. Red at least should be just a bit grateful.”
“Beebi Basted?” A woman’s voice with a definite Frog accent sounded from around the corner. “Talk?”
“One. Unarmed.”
“Non!” A man’s voice this time.
Bobby glanced at Mickey with a smile before shouting back. “We could have let Red die, then shot the next one round the corner?”
A mutter of voices followed. “I will come to talk. Hands up and empty.” The woman sounded nervous but she ought to. Bobby wouldn’t fancy making that offer.
“Wait a minute or two.” Bobby gestured back along the corridor and lowered his voice. “Everyone else move back one room and join Magpie. Red still had some sort of loose trousers over her legs, so no smart remarks about metal or stockings from anyone.” He glared at Bells. “Bells, if it goes viral and you get a shot you kill any woman including Red, even if you do fancy her. Oke?”
“Oke. Sorry Beebi.” Bobby pushed Mickey’s shotgun away. After a moment Bells glanced around the corner, scooped up his Kraut and left, head down. Hood left, but Bobby stopped Mickey.
“If the negotiator comes out of here without me telling you it’s Oke, kill her.” He sighed. “The Bells thing is over. He’ll kill her now if he has to, but sometimes Bells is our squad’s Homer. Another time it’s him that goes viral and saves all our asses. We all owe him more than one life. Oke?” Bobby held Mickey’s eyes. “All over?”
“Over, as long as he doesn’t do it again, give her a break.” Mickey went to join the rest.
Bobby gave them time to get into cover before calling out. “Come ahead, no helmet.” Again voices spoke, quietly, before a woman answered.
“Oui, yes, I am coming. Very slowly.” Bobby watched carefully and first an arm waved around the corner, with an open hand.
He smiled. He’d done that with the lasers. “I see you. Come on.” Already he’d thought of one problem. None of his squad spoke Frog, unless Mickey knew some, while at least one of the Putes understood and spoke Anglic. The space-suited figure had shortish dark brown hair, longer than Magpie’s grown-out Trooper cut, and a nervous smile. “Come ahead to the first room, nice and slow. No heads round the corner behind you.”
She glanced at the pulsing yellow band. “Laser?”
“Safe if you move slow and don’t point guns.” Bobby noted she’d understood the sentence easily, or didn’t query any of it. She knew more than a few words. The Frog Trooper, as he reminded himself, moved slowly forward with her arms wide and hands empty. When she’d moved well clear of the corridor end, Bobby showed himself and the shotgun. “Turn around once, nice and slow.” As she did he smiled at the two knives hidden in the back of her belt in addition to the clearly displayed knife and holstered laser. His eyes narrowed at the tape and sealant on the back of her suit.
Her smile held a bit of a challenge as her face came back in view. “My hands are open?”
“Keep your hands open and wide, and go into this room.”
“No. One to one.” No smile, and there wasn’t any give in her voice.
“Nobody else is in the room. Come and look.” Bobby backed up past the door so she could look. “Stand at the back, hands up on the wall.” He smiled slightly as she walked in, because despite the spacesuit she managed to swing her hips. He followed and weighed up how to disarm her. Bobby didn’t really want her touching those knives to remove them, not after seeing Les Putes throw in the competition. His carbin or shotgun would get too close to her, in grabbing distance, if he disarmed her. Bobby smiled and pulled the las
er pistol. “Laser aimed at your head. Don’t move.”
She flinched slightly. The lasers were useless against suits, but would cause agony and a terrible burn at least on her uncovered head. “Oui, yes. I will keep very still.”
Bobby put his carbin and shotgun down well clear before moving in to remove the two knives and the belt weapons, one at a time and very carefully. He threw them sideways and stepped away. Her wrist seals were tight so no sleeve knife, though he didn’t know what might be in her fingers or in those loose trousers. Not trousers, just leggings attached to the spacesuit and covering the seal on her thighs and the metal connector strips and legs. On the other hand, she’d never leave alive if it kicked off in here. Bells would kill her to make up for Red. “Sit down and don’t point fingers.”
Her eyes went to his fingers and Bobby waggled the hollow index finger, the one he’d fired. She nodded slightly. “My Adju, Super will wonder if I am all right. May I call, shout to him?”
“Make it simple.” Bobby moved to the side, standing over the weapons. As she walked to the door, arms outstretched, he picked up his carbin.
She shouted down the corridor. “Il est….” Beebi cut her off.
“Anglic!”
“Oui, yes.” The Frog Trooper raised her voice again. “It is Beebi. I am safe.” She turned slowly and sat where indicated, arms still out wide. “I am Fleur, a two-stripe. You are Beebi, a three stripe.”
“Sergeant.”
“My two stripes mean sergeant. Three stripes is a sergeant-chef, the same as you.” She paused. “We will not join you just to provide Divas. No pooching.”
Bobby laughed. “I couldn’t stand the pain.” Fleur had a nice laugh, light and breathy, and Bobby reminded himself she was a Trooper who only looked like a Diva. “We will negotiate. We want allies, but we don’t trust you.” He shrugged. “We don’t trust the others either.”
Fleur gestured very slightly, her eyes aimed at the mess of tape and sealant on Bobby’s front. “Allemande? The Kraut laser hit you?” Bobby nodded. “You saved us. Our Super does not like you Rosbif but we, Les Putes, think you are the best squad to join.”
Bobby ignored why, because he wanted to know who had been shooting at her. “You were hit as well, on the back. Who was that?”
For a moment Bobby thought she would spit. “Rangers! They joined with the Shivas and then…” A stream of French followed and it didn’t sound happy. “You don’t understand?” Bobby shook his head since there wasn’t any point in lying. “I will explain it all later, but they killed l’Amazon and Aigu, our scout.” She sighed. “The one you wrestled. There will be no repeat match.”
“A pity. Did you lose any more?” Bobby felt a bit better because Beebi’s Basteds would have the numbers, especially if Mickey took on their Super if it went viral.
“Non, no. Ecarlate, Scarlet, she has arm wound but can shoot. She might not win against Bells this time.” This time her grin shared a joke and Bobby reminded himself again, she’s a Trooper.
Though he grinned back. “He might get a souvenir.”
Fleur laughed, then sobered. “Maybe she will not mind, but not yet, not until she stops hurting.” She smiled. “You take off ….?” Bobby didn’t understand the words but she made a gesture with an outstretched hand, pulling down. “The spacesuit feels better without the connections.” Bobby nodded agreement. “My arms are tired.”
“Lower your hands flat on the floor. No I don’t trust you because I know what we can do.” Fleur nodded understanding, but kept her smile. “Now how do we arrange this without anyone dying?”
Her smile almost disappeared. “Your Super can kill ours. We could see that, in training. Your equip has five Troopers, we have four, so we would lose. It would be better to ally with you unless you want us for Divas, without weapons. That is what the Rangers and Shivas wanted. Together, with weapons, we can kill the Rangers.”
“I’m all for that. Though Bells might have ideas about pooching as well as fighting.”
“Ecarlate might as well, but not yet. She might want to say thank you for the shout, at the corner.” Fleur glanced at the door. “Where do we move into, to live?”
“This room and the next. There are beds.” Bobby smiled at her narrowed eyes. “We’ll leave it empty. Nobody will be waiting to share.”
“You don’t mind us keeping this room?”
Bobby gestured at the bins. “We were just trying to open one of these so feel free to try.”
“We can do that, but none of the bins contain water.”
“You can open bins?” Bobby thought quickly. There could be anything in the bins, including food. Especially food because if the ship knew enough to get the air and water right, it knew what food humans needed. “We have water, plenty of water to trade for bin opening. Enough for a wash but we haven’t found a bath.”
Real mischief flashed in her eyes for a moment. “Maybe I will need help to reach my back?”
“Let me know. You’ll be safe in here until then.” Bobby thought about the practicalities of having Les Putes in here. “You can guard this end of the corridor, and we’ll guard the other and the ladders. The lights are a good warning.”
“Ladders? We only found holes. We had to pull Aigu back when the Adj… Super sent her down. She floated!”
Bobby nodded. “We used a knife to test after meeting the lasers. What was Red, the one you call Scarlet, doing just now?”
“We heard you.” Fleur nodded at the metal that Bells and Hood had been using. “The Super thought you broke open the door and the lasers must be broken.”
“No. I had to shoot out a laser to get past. The lasers will kill you if anyone goes too near.” Bobby waved to her weapons. “Those will be here when you get back. Stay clear of the yellow lights.”
“Mais oui! We will talk later about opening bins and water. Maybe about washing?” The mischief appeared in her eyes again.
Though that wasn’t what surprised Bobby. “I’ll talk to you? Not Super to Super, or me and your Sarge, er, chief, three-stripe?”
Fleur curled a lip in distain. “Our Super will not meet any of you, even the Super, and Pepee is his Diva. She is not allowed to be alone with a big nasty Beebi Trooper. Maybe you could kill our Super, then you would get Pepee?”
Bobby wasn’t taking that bait. “I don’t mind talking to you instead. You stay right there until I’m out the door, then call to your Putes or go back and explain. Don’t point guns at us.”
“Don’t point guns at us.” That cheeky smile appeared again. “We should shake hands. You have the laser and carbin so you will be safe from one woman?”
Bobby debated but didn’t think she could take him without a hell of a racket. Even if she did, when she left the room and he didn’t, she’d be shot. More to the point, if they were to work together he had to show some first bit of trust. He slung his carbin. “We’ll shake hands to seal the contract. If you try anything we’ll wrestle and I’ll insist on a souvenir.”
From her laugh, Fleur might be even more relieved about the agreement than Bobby was. “Maybe another time.” She stood carefully, hands out to the side, then held one out. Bobby shook it briefly. “Now our way, you would say the Frog way?”
“Oh yeah? How?”
Fleur blew a kiss and tapped each cheek, and yes, Bobby had heard the Frogs did that. Mischief flashed in her eyes again. “No sparring.” She took a cautious step closer and then kissed each of his cheeks gently. “Voila. We have a contract. May we rest before talking? None of us has slept since Aigu was killed.”
“Call out when you’re ready. I’d like to know how to open a bin because we’re running low on food and there might be some in there.” Bobby hoped for a hint as to what the Frogs had found but Fleur wasn’t giving anything away.
“In three hours I will come and show you, in return for water.” She sighed. “I will tell our Super that you insist on waiting three hours, or he will not let us rest.”
“Deal.” Bobby backe
d out of the door and down the corridor to the next room, trying to work out if he’d just been played. That Fleur had a hell of a way of negotiating, especially used on a Trooper who hadn’t been near a Diva for six months.
Mickey barely waited until Bobby came into the room. “Well?”
“We all move back one room so they can take these two rooms and guard this end. They’ve lost one, and got one wounded. Fleur can open bins, and they want water in return.” Bobby gestured. “Come on, if they try anything they’ll be pinned in here with no water.”
“Fleur?”
“Their ranks are weird. I’ll explain. Now let’s get clear before she calls up the rest.” Bobby needed time to make sense of the ranks, and Fleur, himself.
When the Basteds settled down in the first room across the first junction Bobby explained. Mickey would have preferred to deal with their officer but accepted that if the man didn’t like Britz or the UKs there wasn’t much point. He seemed really happy with the idea the Putes thought he could kill their Super. It crossed Bobby’s mind one of them might persuade Mickey to try. He hadn’t been near a Diva for six months either. Bobby sent Bells to relieve Siflis, pointing out that the Homer couldn’t be trusted near the bledrin Putes. Bells apologised again before he went.
Once he’d gone Mickey agreed that Bells calling out turned out all right in the end. With the Shivas and Rangers allied, if the Basteds and Putes joined up the only wildcards were the two SEPA Troopers. “The Aussies in SEPA might prefer the UKs, but there’s a lot of business between SEPA and North America, both parts.” Mickey shrugged. “So that could go either way.” He sighed. “We’ll have to let the Putes see more eventually, maybe have access to a water supply rather than trade it. Allies don’t restrict water.”
