by Pam Uphoff
Then he did the same to Ape, and made them both drink more wine. Sent them off with two of the little bottles. "Half tomorrow, half the next day. Dribble a little bit into more wine and do the three day treatment for the rest of the guys. Find out if there’s anyone else with the kill switches. I'll be here tomorrow. Umm, and I could use an active camo suit, if the Boss just happens to have one around."
She watched them, and watched Axel watching them stagger out of sight around a curve of the road.
"They're good friends, aren't they?"
"The best. We've saved each other's lives so many times . . . celebrated victories, and mourned fallen comrades." He huffed out a long breath. "At least I didn't kill them on the spot. I think it'll work. But there's only one way to find out. And I hope it doesn't come to that."
"How many others have a kill switch?"
"I don't know. We lost people in the two battles, so we're really short on people, both Mentalists and Cyborgs. We lost two mentalists and two Cyborgs, one a leader type in the invasion. Then two more Cyborgs in that battle in Vinogradov House. I think Flap was a leader, and Juicy was a trainee."
"That was all Budapest Reborn, right?"
"Yep. And now we get to find out how to deal with a small army that's already through the portal." He turned to the canvas. "Ze light! Ze beautiful morning light has faded. We vill return tomorrow to finish my masterpiece!"
Natasha raised an eyebrow and eyed the canvas. The deep blue of twilight lightened downward, the rolling hills were layered in light to dark. A few golden gleams where the sunlight hit.
"It's not actually bad. It would make interesting wallpaper."
He gave her a wide eyed hurt look, while trying to not laugh.
They bought lots of camping gear and canned food.
The Artist worked over three Cyborgs the next morning. Declared his masterpiece done and they drove away. With a case the Cyborgs had brought him.
Chapter Forty-three
Got It From Igor
Sunday, December 8, 3739
Vlad spent the rest of the day peacefully writing reports and actually caught up on them, on his mail, and even got in a bit of reading before Agent Schweiger turned up.
"Axel Vinogradov did, as you said, grow up, up there. All the elderly scientists remember him learning everything, always underfoot, but usually helping. On the other hand, the Fast Response people just look blank when I ask about him."
"Ah, it's these nicknames. Call signs, whatever. Most of them probably don't know his actual name. Ask about Igor . . . umm . . ."
"What!"
"They aren't going to be happy when they learn he was illegally chipped."
"Why the hell would anyone think that it was illegal?"
"Because not enough time passed for even an arraignment, let alone a trial. And as I said before, did you bring in an Executioner to judge 29 Vinogradov?" Vlad shook his head. "Your people chose their showcase victim very poorly."
Glare. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
"Socially prominent. The highest will look at that as a threat. If the oldest descendant of Ivan the Founder isn't safe from you lot, no one is safe. Popular with the scientific staff, as you noticed. Well respected and liked by the Teams. He's who they look up to. The Mentalists all want to grow up to be as powerful as Igor. The Cyborgs love working with him."
Vlad leaned back. "And 'Igor' is a local legend, with the lower classes. It's like you chipped the Three Bogatyrs. They act like he’s that character in the movies.
"And so blatantly illegally. My recommendation is you shut up and slink away before everyone finds out."
A disdainful snort. "We no longer care about the 300."
"Which is going to get you all killed. Toss up whether by a renewed 300 or the local Igor fans.”
Schweiger glared. "We're here to help you."
"No. You're here to help yourself, and you showed your cards much, much too soon."
"Did you hide Vinogradov?"
"No. But then I'm an honest cop." He snorted. "Plus I suspect I have a dozen people who know where I was at what was probably the critical time. That is to say, you and your gang of . . . searchers at Vinogradov House. When was Lord Axel last seen, at the Cybernetics Center, and when was he discovered to be missing?"
"At nine in the evening, Dr. Petukhov escorted Lord Mikhail Rasputin to view the patient."
"The Director of Imperial Affairs, here."
"Fortunately for Lord Mikhail, they were yelling loud enough to bring the guards in closer, so we know that Dr. Petukhov was alive after Lord Mikhail left."
"Oh . . . Please, please, do not be stupid enough to threaten him."
Schweiger snorted. "The Colonel is speaking to the Governor about reining him in."
"You should cultivate him. He's one of the few non-founding family descendants that the scientists Up Top will take advice from." Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please. Go read the charter. You're making my head hurt."
If there was another glare he didn't look up to see it.
I wonder how it works on Stuttgart? Do they think their Council, or whatever they call it, and their president, can order an Imperial Official around? And obviously they have nothing like the Research Center, whose rather fluid leadership outranks the civilian authority. If they get pushy with the scientists up here, they're going to find out in an unpleasant fashion what sorts of things get researched Up Top.
Do they not realize that this is an Sanctioned Research World? That everything. Everything! Is subordinate to that?
Not in their eyes, apparently.
The Director of Research, who may or may not be Rasputin, or might be Inquisitor Gorbachev . . . or someone not named publicly . . . one of the scientists, perhaps?
It couldn't possibly be the great grandson of both Ivan the Founder and Dr. von Richter.
Right?
He signed a plain car out and drove home first—where his mother and sister appeared to be washing everything in the house— and found his father out on the patio staying out of the way.
"It's practically a ritual cleansing, getting the aura of those Stutts out of the house."
Vlad grinned. "Probably needed. All right, I just thought I'd check on everyone. I'll hit the streets, now, tracking down some gangs. You'd think with chips we wouldn't have them, wouldn't you?"
His dad nodded. "I guess there's always someone that no one wants. They're mostly ferals. Either minimal grow-ins who can avoid being controlled, and minimally functional bad grow-ins whose . . . owners can't care for them, and can't afford a good care company."
"Yep. I ought to be home for dinner."
"Unless the ferals eat you."
"There is that." He grabbed a sample of Dina's medicine, and headed out. Hit six stores for wine splits, so he didn't look too much like a wino, and doped them all, sloshing a bit of wine back into his "starter set."
Demonstrated the effects at two charity hospitals that cared for Cyborgs with brain fever.
And spent the rest of the afternoon handing little bottles out to the homeless people living on the streets.
"I got it from Igor" was all he told any of them.
Don't know that it'll do a bit of good, but it's the only good I can do right now.
Chapter Forty-four
Camping
Wednesday, December 11, 3739
In a plain brown wig, and casual exercise gear—winter variety—no one looked twice at him as he marched up the street. Weights in hand, arms pumping as he kept up a brisk pace. Reached out mentally to the Cyborg on the corner and sent him into a foggy state of memory loop that would last for hours. Marched past and did the same with the two at the gate.
Around the block, up the alley, and found the fourth Stutt Cyborg intimidating a maid at the back door. Axel made him back away and sit down then sent him off to dreamland for a few hours.
The maid hovered, ready to run.
"Sissy, isn't it?" Axel grinned as she sudden
ly recognized him. "Please tell Lady Lilia that the camping vehicle will be here in the alley in a few minutes."
"Yes, sir!" She scampered off, and Axel double-timed it back to the ATV.
They had the back loaded in minutes, mainly because the lady's car was already packed and ready to go. One cook, one maid, one tutor, three cyborg guards. The lady rode in her car with most of the staff. The head of the guard detachment and all three kids rode in the ATV with the well known "Uncle Axel."
Who was actually not a relative at all, but a frequent visitor . . . they hung over the front seat taking it all in as Axel explained the comm gear Pauli had installed.
Frequency shifting burst transmissions if they had to call out. Passive pickup of TV and radio so they could stay abreast of the situation in the city.
"And watch our favorite shows!"
"Yay! That's the only thing about camping I hate!"
Axel grinned. "Kids these days! There are several places I used to camp when I was a kid. All the researcher's families have been doing it for centuries. And we planted trees and bushes every time we went."
Axel shrugged. "Well, we stuck seeds in the ground. Pecans, walnuts, apple and cherry seeds . . . even some acorns and pine nuts that people brought back when they went across on vacation. Packets of seeds for pretty flowers. Mind you, there's still a whole lot of nothing but grass out here, because there aren't any bees to pollinate the trees. Well, other insects do, but not as efficiently as bees."
He turned off the road to a power plant and watched carefully to make sure the limo was following. "This is the road that goes all the way to the Atlantic . . . Mikhail's never mentioned fishing . . ."
"Daddy loves to fish, when we go back to Regulus on vacation." Tatyana was the oldest, at sixteen.
"I thought it was gross." Anzhelina was twelve.
Ten year old Nikita grinned. "I caught the biggest one, last year."
"Ugg! Boys!" Anzhelina wrinkled her nose.
"And no cute ones where we're going?" Tatyana sighed. "Momma barely lets me talk to boys any more."
"Sorry. Only one boy and I'm probably going to take him away with me. Unless Fifty-fifty wants a sniper. I take some talented kids up here, or to one of the other spots, for shooting practice, rather frequently.
"Anyhow, tell your Dad that a mere one-thousand five-hundred miles of washed out, poorly maintained roads will get him to the finest fishing in the Alliance." Axel grinned. "We're only going about two hundred and fifty miles, then we turn off and drive another fifty to a place where few people have ever been."
"But there are trees?" Nikita peered around the endless grasslands.
"Yep. The pine trees are wind pollinated, so they're spreading out nicely. Might even have an actual forest in another century or two." Axel glanced at Fifty-fifty. "There are a couple hundred 'tree clusters.' Almost small forests. No reason for anyone to pay any particular attention to this one, but it does have a nice steep tall hill between it and the road and the city, that gives a good view of trouble coming your way."
The Cyborg grinned. "The Boss has mentioned that you're a planning fanatic."
"There's a time for winging it and inspiration, but prep and planning, not to mention training, are much to be preferred. Hence the electronics. I'll be leaving the ATV with you. I can take back the limo if you want, or leave it. One of my guys is delivering a bunch of stuff, and setting up camp, so I can also ride back with him."
"Will they spot us on satellite?" Nikita was rather addicted to spy movies.
"Doubtful. However, one of my crew is an outstanding hacker and he's into the satellite feeds. He's got some good loops, so no one's going to see us driving and he'll let me know if the vehicles and tents are insufficiently hidden before I leave. You'll need to be a little careful about lights and fires at night. But I've got a baffle, as well as Pauli on the sat feeds."
Fifty-fifty nodded approval. "Redundancy. I like it."
"So long as Pauli doesn't get too busy."
***
The campsite was a hit. Probably a hundred acres of mixed woods. A small meadow surrounded by tall trees that didn't quite meet in the middle. Far enough south and with the hill blocking the wind, the grass was still green, and the big trees were “live oaks” kept their leaves all winter. Tents in among the trees, a rock ring for a fire, with a metal hood. A water well, with a solar powered pump, a freezer box, a cold box . . .
"And best of all a really cute guy."
Dimitri glanced back in alarm. Lady Lilia sighed in resignation.
Dimitri, for the first time ever, lifted his hair. "See? Exec plate. Not even close to being in your class, so, so, flirt all you want if you need the practice, but that's all it’s ever going to be."
"Oh dear."
Axel glanced over at Lady Lilia.
"What can be more irresistible than a man who's determined to be uninterested? Wherever did you find him?"
"He's one of my uncle's bastards. And dammit, if I'd turned fifty before he and a couple of others turned eighteen, I'd have tried to buy them from my uncle and I'd have damn well adopted and Presented them."
"Really?" She eyed the boy. "But with an executive chip he's still got power and brains, eh? Very useful."
"Yes. I just wish he was free."
"Axel, dear, with you he is."
"Not legally and I hate that. So . . . Do you like the camp? What did I miss? We were a bit more used to roughing it than I assume you are, but I don't actually know."
Nikita snickered. "Momma stayed home after the first time we went backpack camping."
Lady Lilia grinned. "I like hiking, and I love camping. Combining the two, which involves packs of horrendous weight? Dehydrated food? No. This, on the other hand, is quite good, and with the things I've brought along, will be excellent."
Fifty-fifty, who'd taken off to check the hill top, trotted back into camp. "I want your sniper."
"Oh dear." Lady Lilia glanced over to where Dimitri was setting up a picnic table in the shade, Tatyana supervising.
"Indeed." Axel looked around. "I'll be taking the truck back, I need it for my next plan. If you need to return to town, just leave everything here."
***
At the sound of the loud voices, Axel paused. Held up a hand to stop Henrik and company, then walked the rest of the way up the stairs to listen carefully, from almost out of sight.
The Boss was yelling, a man in a Stuttgart military uniform was yelling, the Inquisitor strode into view from the direction of the main building, his entourage behind him . . .
"Both portals are down and I want to know what you've done to them!" The Boss was definitely pissed, and the Military guy looked pissed. They passed out of sight, heading for the control room.
The Boss's voice trailed from out of sight. "Have you finished the upgrade? When can you test . . . What do you mean you can't!"
The next several minutes were filled with incomprehensible multiple voices, at full volume, the anger and shock was clear.
". . . fucking thieves!" The Boss was back striding angrily across the portal room toward the exit. "I told the Council not to let you lot in, and I swear once I get rid of you lot I'll personally shoot every single one of them who voted for it! Stealing our best portalmaker!"
"We did not . . ."
The Boss spun and poked him with a finger. "I'm going to check the other two portals, and our portalmakers had better be right where they belong!"
The officer stalked after him punching at his phone.
The Inquisitor stepped out and watched them walk away. Threw out his hands. "Bring my car around to the front entrance. Two in the Morning? Why can't we have a crisis at a decent time of the day?"
Axel stepped back and grinned. "You heard the man, we'll use the back entrance."
Henrik looked around. "I would have sworn he said front."
"Yep, and the others are at the Portal door, so we'll go the third way. Where, as it happens, my minions will be moving the c
ars and meeting us there."
And then I get ready for a little trip of my own.
Chapter Forty-five
Among the Enemy
Thursday, December 12, 3739
"We have to get the domestic situation under control, so we can open the portals to Regulus soon. You are horribly dependent on imported food. Stuttgart is, of course, helping, but we weren't ready to take the entire load!"
Vlad supposed that if he were a proper intel agent, he'd be delighted to have been dragged along . . . included in . . . this very important meeting.
Started right off with a not very subtle threat of starvation if we don't . . . what? Is this still about the zivvy?
And are the portals down because they ordered it, or did we do something?
I'm betting on Axel, because there's a lot of rage being concealed. And not just Colonel Lehr's. I don't think anyone here has a clue what happened to the portals.
Chief of Police Nestor Naoumov was hiding anger behind a facade of mild interest.
Governor Berezin was doing all the talking on their side. Failing to subdue the anger in his voice. ". . . invited you in to help us secure the City from attacks from outside. Not to mess up our portals, which were working fine until last night. Not to investigate crimes, not to make illegal arrests, not to perform warrantless searches of citizen's homes.
"And very definitely not kidnap and illegally chip Alliance Agents."
Colonel Lehr eyed him impatiently. "He was a traitor to your World. And a very powerful mentalist. He had to be eliminated, immediately."
"We do not eliminate people, Colonel." Berezin stiffened his shoulders. "As the representative of the Council of Siberia Max, at the order of the Council, I order you to leave this World."
That got a snort. "My troops outnumber yours, and more than equal your pathetic police force. I ordered you to come with these people to let them know that the City Police are now under my command, and those we keep will be integrated into my police force."
