by Pam Uphoff
"Do you think this is news to me? I suppose you think we need more gates, like every other person who's never considered where to put them?"
"Yeah, well, I just thought, some hub worlds for all those low traffic gates, then there'd be room for things like separate gates for incoming and outgoing traffic to the colonies. And those gates to other cities on Homestead they keep asking for, and . . . "
The Chief glared. And leaned her hands on the desk to stare at his map. "Hub worlds . . . is actually a good idea . . . and placing the outgoing gates on the far side from the incoming . . . routing the traffic out the back to Plains Road, instead of straight to . . . umm . . . this is actually closer to practical than any plan I've seen yet. Add in Niav's farside customs offices . . . Dedicate one Hub World to quarantine promising new discoveries . . . "
Ebsa copied it to a chip and held it out to her.
"Thanks . . . and get back to work."
Chapter Five
8 Yusef 1404 yp
Emreville, Badlands Colony
A more peaceful protest, this time.
Badlands was the smallest—population-wise—of all of the colonies. No natives. Their original powered gate had attached in the equivalent of the Kalahari desert. There were eight big mining companies, with their temporarily relocated employees, a couple hundred small companies, and a scattering of actual colonists, farming in pocket valleys all around the only city on the world. Perhaps a half a million people total, a hundred thousand colonists, maybe.
Both the subdirector for the world and the governor on this side were busy pretty much full time with the needs of the companies.
The youngsters born here, children and grandchildren of the original colonists, were unhappy to be so ignored by the colony Governor. And perfectly willing to make nuisances of themselves over it.
Subdirector Afxi was arguing with Governor Ujjw.
Afxi waved at the street in front of the gate. "They can't just block traffic like that! Dammit, the mines are all this world has going for it."
And the backed up traffic in Gate City, full of empty ore haulers trying to return for their next load was impossible to ignore. At least that limited the backup, here, of fully loaded ore haulers. Still shut down the mines. And got instant attention.
"I know that, but our laws just say they have to stay back fifty meters. The chief of police measured it out. Then said there was nothing he could do. Dammit, nothing has gotten through all day."
Faintly from the road . . . "If you'd just put in a corridor to a good farming area we wouldn't be losing our crops to drought every other year!"
The governor turned and yelled back. "Drill more wells!"
"The water table dropped and the salt level increased! We. Need. To. Move."
Ra'd suppressed a snicker. The gate was entirely surrounded. The vehicles must have circled in slowly, squeezing down into the nice compact barrier. Mostly heavy equipment, a bulldozer, dump trucks . . .and one really nice big black car with the governor's seal on it.
Governor Jewel pointed at it. "You stole my car!"
"It's the property of the Colony Company." The girl chained to its bumper yelled back. "I checked it out of the motor pool!"
"You . . . that's the last temp job you'll ever get! You. Are. Fired!"
Olli cleared his throat. "What job did she have?"
"Checking vehicles and equipment out of the motor pool."
Pixy turned away, coughing. Through their current weak mental link, Ra'd could feel the stirring of lust. And not Pixy alone. At least they have good tastes, even if poorly expressed. Or in this case, not expressed.
Ra'd walked over to the girl. The other youngsters had eschewed chains. They were carrying signs and closed in protectively.
Ra'd lowered his shields. Oners, some high, none particularly well-trained. Recoiling from his glow.
"I'm part of that Action Team." He fished out the growing interest in sex and violence that was oozing into the team bond and let the girl and her friends see it. "That's the kind of men the subdirector wants to unleash. Stupid and short-sighted of him. And the governor."
He loomed. "So why don't we all just skip past the ugly parts of this story. Go home. And then run for the Colony Council."
"Council! But I'm only sixteen."
"You could do it, Hera." A boy who looked even younger started grinning. "We're all voting age."
Ra'd leaned closer. She shrank back. He used a careful slice across the chain.
"Declare victory. Walk away and leave them to deal with the vehicles."
The girl jerked her hand away as the chain dropped. Scooted nervously away from him and got to her feet. "I think we've made our point, guys."
All around, the signs were lowered. The kids eeled through the folded limbs of an excavator and trotted off down the poorly lit street.
The team stomped up.
"One Damn it all, Ra'd." Weirdo glared. "That stopped the party dead. I'd have loved to have shown her what happens to Bad Girls."
"How the One hell do we get my car out of this mess?" The governor joined them.
The subdirector eyed the excavator, touching the front grill. He stepped to the back, and eyed the bumper of the dump truck behind it. Just touching the trunk of the car. "Very carefully."
The Governor glared at the subdirector . . . then at Ra'd. "Did you have to give her an idea like that?"
"Yes."
Ra'd woke from a tangled nightmare of his old demons returning . . . he could only hope the anger and lust were leaks from the team. I enjoyed looming at the pretty girl. I did not enjoy her shrinking away. I. Did. Not. I was pretending. He closed his mental shields as tightly as he could.
***
Work was back to an infuriating mix of interesting and dead boring. And getting more boring, all the time. Once one grasped the amount and variety of consumables needed by the various teams and scientists or diplomats Across, checking for realistic requests was easy. Vehicles, a check of known conditions occasionally turned up an odd request. Specialty equipment, such as mining equipment and assay labs were rarely mixed up. Gate needs were almost always underestimated.
And as he read up on after action reports, he realized that the more frequent gates really were necessary. A week in the field found all sorts of lacks of unrealized needs, equipment, and supplies. Which they could request, and then wait another week to receive. So three early gates was pretty standard.
Ajha always had everything he needed for our ten day studies, with plenty of extras. I wish I could see what he ordered for longer projects. Ebsa eyed his comp. But access to the archives was closely monitored, and so far had always resulted in an administrator showing up to ask him why he was goofing off. Pack of micro-managers.
Of course he wasn't supposed to dawdle over the interesting parts. As a whole, the after action reports tended toward bland and dry. And full of poor grammar, bad spelling and weird punctuation, which he was supposed to fix before the report was filed.
He was running every morning, then lifting weights. Filling his evenings with various lessons. Seeing Paer once a week if he was lucky.
"Maybe I can get a job grading high school papers, after this job drives me crazy."
"If you're talking to yourself, you've already gone round the bend."
Ebsa looked over his shoulder. Chief Huul had some executive types in tow. Unfortunately including Subdirector Idro, whose scowl was deepening as he looked Ebsa up and down.
What? I'm dressing like everyone here. Button down dress shirt, slacks, tie.
Another man snorted. Should I know him? "That tie's a bit uppity for a clerk, don't you think?"
Ebsa blinked, looked down. It was the brightest of the three silk ties he'd inherited from his father. Entwined vertical waves of silver, gold, blue, red, and green. Paer said it looked like a kelp forest in the sunshine.
"Er? I haven't actually seen a dress code?" He kept his voice dubious rather than defiant. Didn't work. Scowls and gl
ares from all four of them, now. Huul shaking her head warningly.
"Green, Boy. Have you earned the right to wear green? What's your name?"
What? "Ebsa Clostuone Mon . . . "
"Clostuone! And you dare wear Warrior Green?" A man in the back of the pack.
Ebsa blinked and looked down at the tie. Isakson says I'm a Warrior. "Yes."
The first stranger leaned in, narrow eyed. "I think you should meet me in the dojo at eighteen hundred. I'll show you why you shouldn't wear that color."
He turned and stalked away, leaving Ebsa agape.
I've fought Warriors. Not that you'd believe that. But no matter what, this isn't going to end in anything remotely resembling "good."
Chief Huul lingered for a last glare, and he dared to ask. "Who?"
"Minister Wxho, you idiot." She walked away.
The Minister of War. I'm dead. Or maybe he'll be busy, and won't be able to make it.
He made it.
Dressed out in a black gi, all starched and pressed. But obviously not new, nor was the black belt new. Three rank bands.
His eyes narrowed as he eyed Ebsa's soft-with-age white gi, and the black belt, obviously new. His lip curled. "At least I'll get a little exercise out of it."
Sensei Enni behind him was looking alarmed.
Ebsa nodded reassurance. I'll be careful to not hurt him. And try to stay undamaged myself.
Wxho stepped out onto the mats. Eyes narrowed in anger, firing up. Ebsa noticed the guards, uniforms much like the Presidential guards', but with red rather than purple piping. Armed. Hands on pistols, eyes on Ebsa. Ebsa nodded acknowledgement of their unspoken threat of what would happen if they thought he was trying to damage or kill their minister, then stepped onto the mat and returned the minister's bow.
The minister was fast. Ebsa gave ground, blocking and dodging. Tapped the minister's arm, blocked a kick, exchanged a series of punches, both of them blocking. The minister stepped back to get room for another kick. Ebsa spiked his speed, stepped into him, grabbing his knee as he started his kick and lifting it to throw him off balance. Backed out of retaliation range and stepped back in as Wxho regained his balance. A solid punch to the minister's ribs, then he retreated, dodging and blocking, backing around the mats. A few carefully controlled punches, didn't kick at all.
The bell rang and they both backed up. The minister looked furious, started his bow. Ebsa bowed with him. Received a narrow glare.
"You were being too careful. When I fight, I expect a fight, not a chase. I am not ashamed to be beaten by a better man." The minister turned and stalked away. " . . . coward . . . "
Ebsa heaved a sigh of relief.
An awful lot of people were looking at him.
Enni shrugged. "That was the best you could hope for."
"Yeah. I survived."
"Don't bet on your career surviving." Huul glanced toward the Minister's retreating entourage. "He's well known to hold grudges. Everyone here saw how fast you were, how careful you were being."
Enni nodded. "It looked like a man trying to not accidentally hurt a boy. And he knew it."
"Well, Chief, if they tell you to throw me to the lions, how about A&E? The subdirector could send me out on dangerous projects, feed me to dinosaurs. Please."
Snort. "Much though I hate to admit it, you're a good worker. Too damn smart for the job, actually. I've managed to sell the first installment of your hub idea to the subdirector. If I have to dump you, I'll try to turn it in the direction you seem to prefer."
Chapter Six
28 Yusef 1404 yp
Rainbow Valley, Tall Trees Colony
"All right. Some damned Native snuck through the gates and made it to Disco to complain about the enslavement of his people. He claims his sister is being held prisoner, a hostage to force his tribe to work for an abusive farmer."
Ra'd eyed the Senior Administrator. She didn't leak much, but what little was leaking seemed to be fury aimed three different directions.
"Adjudicator Ucle is being sent to determine the facts and make a preliminary judgment. You are being sent to keep him alive and put some teeth behind his ruling. You will obey his orders." She leaned forward on her desk and stared at Olli. "Whether you like them or not. The last damned thing we need is Disco getting a toehold on one of our colonies. So if Ucle tells you to arrest the farmers and be nice to the Natives, do it."
***
"You can pay more, you can switch to a crop you can harvest mechanically, you can go bankrupt, throw in the towel and drag your broke ass back home. But you cannot kidnap children and force people to work. Yes, I know you paid them, trying to make it look better. It doesn't work that way."
The adjudicator looked at Olli. "Take the girl back to her father. Extend my apologies to Chief Ineod for the farmer's behavior, and assure him that the man will be punished and that he should retain a lawyer and sue the farm corporation for at least five times what they were paid."
"Hey! That would be three times minimum wage!" The farmer shut his mouth at the adjudicator's glare. The two priests who had truthed the farmer, the Chief's daughter, and two workers from either side just looked neutral. Ra'd couldn't get any sense of their opinions at all.
Olli headed for the door, summoning the girl with a wave. She hustled out, and once out she scrambled to the top of a stack of hay bales and whistled.
Out in the fields, heads lifted. The girl pointed. Half the men in the field dropped their tools and started walking east.
The girl looked smug as she climbed down. "I go home. They go home."
Olli shrugged. "Stupid farmers are none of our business. Where are we likely to find your father?"
She pointed east. "The tribe will be taking the herds to the mountains now."
As she followed, Pixy and Evil ogled her butt, nudged each other.
Ra'd eyed them.
Weirdo snorted. "We fight for the Empire. It's a dirty job, for dirty men. We deserve rewards. Privileges. People owe us for risking our lives."
But this particular girl does not.
That must have escaped thought the Team link. He got multiple glares.
Square snorted. "Right. She got locked in a nice room, three meals a day . . . and now her tribe is going to get rich, and no one will dare pay a native less than minimum. I'll bet she and her big brother set this up on purpose, to bring a farm company down."
Pure speculation. And it doesn't matter if they lust after every pretty woman they meet.
They didn't catch up to the tribe. As the sun set, Ra'd shot a deer, and they camped. Seared meat over the fire, set up the big team tent. Ra'd poked through the ute's emergency kit and pulled out a tiny one-man tent and set it up, waved the girl into it.
"Hold up, girl. You'll need some blankets." Pixy stepped into the Team tent and the girl followed him in.
A spike of lust rushed through his body. Not my lust.
The team crowded into the tent, Ra'd last, trying to control himself.
I want to be a part of this Team.
The girl had long black hair, like Nighthawk, and for just a moment a wave of lust rolled over him, only half from the outside. But the girl squirmed, trying to twist out of Pixy's grip, and he could see how young she was, how frightened.
And this is the cost.
And voices from the past, bubbling up from his memory. " . . . you're too honorable to be dangerous that way . . . " and "Never sell your soul. It's hard to get it back."
My soul, my honor, my self-respect.
Ra'd ibn Nicolas stepped forward. Grabbed Pixy's pinkie finger and wrenched it back. "Run, girl." He stepped back. Tripped Weirdo as he lunged for the girl. Stomped his ankle. Turned back and punched Pixy . . . Not the controlled contact of sparring, because there were five other large angry men headed his way.
"What the fuck." Olli loomed.
"I am not a rapist."
Evil pushed around Olli. "When we get back home, I'm going to find this little sister of yours and
everything I was just planning to do, I'm going to do . . .
Ra'd broke his jaw. Spun and blocked a kick from Igloo. Blind-sided by someone else. Hit a tent pole, kicked randomly and tried to get to the door before the tent collapsed . . .
***
Paer was busy with the usual run of colds and ulcers, minor injuries. Tagging after the doctors, and working with permission.
Noise from the outer hallway, multiple serious injuries. Several broken bones . . . The man with the badly broken jaw was sent straight to surgery. A damaged spleen . . . Paer watched the Head Medgician deal with internal bleeding . . . then back out for contusions, two concussions. Finally the doc sent her out to deal with the waiting minor issues. "Call if you have the slightest doubt."
She dealt easily with the standard flu and cold symptoms, sprains, a cut from a fall . . .
She took a stretch break, chugged a bottle of booster. She glanced out into the waiting room. Not too many more people out there, thank the One!
She frowned. Was that Ra'd sitting alone, cold pack to his mouth? She walked around through the door. Black eye. And sitting like he hurts elsewhere as well. So why is he smiling?
"One! You look horrible. What happened?"
Ra'd cautiously removed the cold pack from his lip. Cut, bruised, swelling—not much bleeding. "Oh, call it a drunken brawl, sort of."
"I'll bet. I didn't think you drank enough to get in a fight." But that sure looks like the results of a brawl. "Where's the worst damage?"
"It feels like I broke a bone in my hand." His habitual tenseness and eagled-eyed alertness were subdued. The muscles around his eyes were relaxed . . . apart from what looked almost like smile crinkles at the corners. Narcotic? Meditative pain suppression?
Paer took his hand, half closed her eyes to see it in detail. "Yep nice clean break, no problem to fix. Have you got a pain killer spell on it? Or drugs? I need to put some tension on it for just a minute . . ."
