by Chris Bunch
"Already thought of," Hedley interrupted. "We'll use the charts we have to make a planetfall somewhere and Alikhan looks for the local map store."
Njangu gave Hedley a somewhat incredulous stare. "Just that simple, eh? 'Kay. Let's go back to something that's in our arena. I assume you assume I&R'U be your raiders?"
"You assume right."
"And after we grab the ship, we trundle off with Alikhan, becoming his bodyguards and the guys who bring the pilot coffee?"
"Right. We'll have Ben Dill and anybody else who's got anything resembling starship experience along. About fifteen more."
"Not enough," Garvin said flatly.
"I'm trying to keep my effectives as high as possible," Hedley complained. "We'll still have a war to fight while you clowns are out playing Space Rangers Against the Flipping Galaxy."
"Nemmine about that, Garvin," Njangu said. "I know where we can score more shooters—and they're already in place," Njangu said. "What I don't particularly like is this elaborate scheme you've got for the insertion. Putt-putt freighter. The last aksai with phony signals… uh-uh. Too easy to get dead."
"You know a better way?" Hedley asked.
"Remembering who else is on C-Cumbre, I do. And my cute, lovable colleague here with the forty-centimeter tongue is the key."
"Now wait a minute," Garvin protested.
"Go take a shower and tuck a flower behind your ear… sir ," Njangu said. "Froggie's gone a-courting, doo-dah, doo-dah."
"This is exciting," Karo Lonrod told Erik Penwyth as he neatly grounded his speedster at the steps to Jasith Mellusin's mansion. "I've never been a blind before."
"And you make a gorgeous one, too," Erik said.
"Or else," Lonrod said, "I could think there's something else between Garvin and Jasith?"
"Like?"
"Like something to do with the war… which also might explain why you're so mysterioso about your comings and goings, and why my father wrote you a really big check last week that he wouldn't explain."
"The war's over," Penwyth said.
"I'm a good little bimbo, so I know that. Which is why I'm excited about being a blind, since that's the other option."
"Sometimes I wonder," Erik began, gratefully broke off as Jasith and her husband came out the door. Jasith kissed Loy briefly, hurried to the speedster. Erik rolled down his window.
"Sorry you can't come with us, old boy," he called. "The new gallery's's'posed to be enormously educating."
Kouro forced a smile, went back inside as Jasith squeezed into the backseat.
"Let's lift! I swear, he gets to be more of a fussbudget old coot every day."
"Documentsss," the first Musth demanded, as the second stepped back, blaster ready.
Njangu, moving very slowly, held out a plas card with his left hand.
"Documentsss," the Musth repeated more loudly, probably the only Basic he knew.
A thin tube in Njangu's right hand thudded once, and the Musth gargled blood. Njangu spun the empty single shot weapon into the second Musth's face, swept-kicked his blaster away as it went off, crouched, and leapt up, head slamming into the Musth's face. The alien squealed, slashed reflexively with a claw, catching Njangu's upper arm.
Yoshitaro spun to the side, smashed two strikes into the alien's side, turned again as the Musth flailed at him. He blocked the Musth's claw, was inside his guard, lunge-struck into the being's throat, felt something crunch. The Musth staggered, fell, lay motionless.
"Very good," Jo Poynton said, coming out of nowhere. "You moved before we could shoot."
"Thanks anyway for the backup," Njangu said, examining the slashes and the slowly spreading darkness that was blood on his jacket.
"I think I'm gonna have to set up a forgery section," he said. "I could have guessed he wasn't going to take my officers' mess card. C'mon, Poynton. Get me to a bandage and a beer before more fuzzies materialize."
It still felt odd to be drinking and socializing in the early afternoon, but Cumbrian society had learned the
Musth dusk-to-dawn curfew was meant for everyone, even Rentiers.
Penwyth, Lonrod, and Jasith appeared at the gallery, were joined by the owner and, after Jasith bought two assemblages from the exhibit, he took the three into a back room with the artist. Both, ex-members of the Force, would swear the trio had been with them until whenever.
Waiting was Garvin Jaansma.
"We'll be back in two hours," he said.
"Why not three," Penwyth suggested.
Garvin puzzled, then shrugged. "Three, then."
He led Jasith out a side door.
"Wonder why Erik wanted me to be gone longer?"
"I thought you were a better spy than that," Jasith said. "What do you think Karo thinks we're doing?"
"Oh."
"A good adultery takes a while," Jasith said. "Or so they tell me," she added primly.
Garvin, making sure there wasn't a tail, took Jasith a few blocks away into the middle of the prewar rich shopping district, into an expensive furniture store's back room. He locked the door into the showroom, barred the freight door into the alley.
Jasith watched, leaning back on a gold-lace-embroidered, wildly overstuffed couch.
"And what is it I can do for you?" she said.
"I need one of your ships to deliver some of my men to C-Cumbre."
"You have it."
Garvin was a bit surprised at her immediate agreement.
"Also, one of your lims."
Jasith nodded.
This time, since she might end up implicated, he explained what he needed the lifter for.
"I can do better then that," Jasith said. "I'll set up a meeting with the Musth, and that should guarantee we can get into their base."
Garvin noticed the "we."
"But what happens to you when the shooting starts?" he asked.
"That'll be no problem," Jasith said airily. "You can tie me up… I'll say I was kidnapped. Don't worry about me. The owner of Mellusin Mining still has a little bit of respect with them."
Garvin was skeptical, but said nothing.
"Is that all you need?"
"Yen," Garvin said. "No, goddammit! I want to kiss you."
"Well, thank a goddess," Jasith murmured. "I was starting to wonder if it'd been shot off.
"Now, slowly. We've got over two hours, and I want something to remember."
"What about afterward?" Poynton asked.
"Your people disperse back to the mines and look innocent, along with my troops," Njangu said. ■
"The wounded?"
"Walking, or any that you can carry out on stretchers—the Force'll supply a med team at the mines for them. The others… they'll have to be left to the Musth. Just like any of our troops in the same boat. We can give out lethal-pills, if you want."
Poynton eyed Yoshitaro. "We taught you well how to fight this kind of war, didn't we?"
"I learned from you," Njangu admitted. "But I got basic nastiness back on an armpit called Waughtal's World."
"What about me? I get stuck on C-Cumbre?"
"Not a chance. You're needed here. We'll spirit you back after the smoke settles, probably on one of Mellus-in's ships, when my team comes back.
"That's if you want," Njangu said. "Personally, I've got a helluva better use for you. Go out with our Musth friend. You're still a member of PlanGov, still on the real Council. If there is any hope to Alikhan's plan, you'll be there, able to speak for the humans in the Cumbre system."
Poynton looked at him wryly. "Aren't you a little young to be playing interstellar diplomat?"
"Politics hates a vacuum, I read somewhere. Why not seize the moment? Better than waiting for the Rentiers to get off their asses. And what's this 'young' shit, anyway? You aren't more'n couple of years older than me."
Poynton laughed. "I forgot you're somebody who calls a spade a frigging shovel."
She was about to go on when a 'Raum slid into the room and, without apology, whispered urge
ntly to Poynton.
Njangu finished his beer, considered the room he was in. It was about ten meters underground, reached by a narrow passage down through rubble. It was long, fairly low-ceilinged, with carefully fitted stone walls, ceiling, floor. Other rooms opened off it. There were bedrooms, a kitchen, a 'fresher, workrooms. Poynton told him it had been one of the Planning Group's hides, and the bombing of the building above only made it more hidden.
It was immaculate, and a whispering air conditioner kept the hide fresh-smelling, comfortable. Some might have found it claustrophobic, but Njangu Yoshitaro, a creature of alleys, shadows, and the night, was very much at ease.
The 'Raum finished, hurried out.
"The Musth," Poynton said, "have deployed into the Eckmuhl in strength, looking for the murderer who killed their soldiers. So I wouldn't think you'll be wanting to leave for a while."
"I guess not," Njangu agreed.
"We'll get you out of the Eckmuhl after dark. There's dozens of passageways, old sewer lines, abandoned power ways."
"So all we have to do is figure out a way to pass the time 'til nighttime?"
"Do you have any ideas?" Poynton asked.
Njangu remembered her body's smoothness. "I could think of a couple."
"So could I," Poynton said. "After all, you did save my life. Sort of."
"That's a crappy reason," Njangu complained.
"Then… how about just I remember you as feeling good when you were inside me?"
Njangu realized his lips were quite dry.
"That'll manage just fine."
Three ore transports, the normal safety-conscious formation, guarded by a pair of overhead aksai , lowered toward the Musth-guarded dock area on D-Cumbre. Each ship carried the orange-outlined-in-black logo of Mellusin Mining.
Musth guards had already checked the warehouses for contraband. But the check was fairly perfunctory—who in a proper state of sanity would want to go to the dry, hot, dusty waste of C-Cumbre/Mabasi? The stevedores were robots, and the loading went smoothly, except for the problem around the lead ship, which was carrying both Mellusin Mining's owner and a long, highly polished lim, also in Mellusin's colors.
If anyone wondered why Jasith needed this monstrous lim, considering she was traveling with only one bodyguard, they didn't say anything. Jasith was in a temper, raving loudly at the human stevedores moving the lim into a cargo hold, swearing that if there was a ding, one damned ding, she'd make sure none of them dot-and-carried on this planet again. There were mutters about frigging Rentiers, but quiet ones—Jasith had more than enough influence to unemploy the lot of them.
The Musth guards thought this was quite a show, far more interesting than their regular duties, and gathered around watching.
As a result, no one saw nearly one hundred men and women, heavily laden, stream into the middle ship, hidden from overhead observation by convenient rain shields.
Loaded, the small crews of the transports began the normal ship/traffic control chatter, and lifted for space.
Out-atmosphere, the guardian aksai were replaced by a single velv and, on secondary drive, set an economical orbit toward C-Cumbre.
The command group assembled in the flight leader's owner's quarters. Garvin Jaansma considered them. Jon Hedley had assumed he'd be in command, but Angara refused to release him, pointing out everything was in Alikhan's hands, rather paws, and all that would be needed in charge was a good headbanger.
He'd endorsed Njangu's idea of taking Jo Poynton to add legitimacy. Besides Alikhan, Ben Dill, Poynton, and the two I&R commanders, Ann Heiser, Ho Kang, and Danfin Froude were in the cabin.
"There's nothing to do," Garvin announced, "until we hit C-Cumbre. The troops in the other ship have been told they'll have no duties for the four ship-days in space but to make sure their weaponry's clean, and they're rested.
"I suggest we do the same. There'll be enough to worry about after we land."
Good advice—but not followed by either Garvin or Njangu, in spite of Jasith's and Jo's presence.
Nor did Alikhan relax. He kept going over and over what he should, might say to Senza with Dill and the two scientists until Dill threatened to throttle him if he heard either the words "Senza" or "peace" again.
They closed on C-Cumbre, and aksai closed to meet them, escorted them to their landing places in the vast Mellusin Mining yards.
"So they want us't' fight their wars, do they?"
There was a rumble of anger from the women and men in the rocky chamber, a kilometer underground. The miners were filthy, exhausted, an hour before shift's end. Many carried hand tools, and all had breathing masks around their suit necks.
"Who's they?" Poynton shot back. "I guess I'm they, because I'm with them."
"Wouldn't be the first to sell out yer sisters for the Rentiers' credits," a heavy woman sneered.
Poynton held the woman's eyes until they dropped.
"Just so," she said coldly. "Taking the Musth money, I am. Maybe they'll buy me an estate somewhere for selling you out."
There were a few humorless laughs.
"Say we do what you want?" another miner said. "You haven't given us much in th' way of details."
"And I'm not going to," Poynton said. "All you need to know is you'll get a chance to kill some Musth, maybe get killed yourselves. All of you were out during the rising—you know why things are kept secret."
"And if whatever we're going to do works?"
"Maybe we'll get a chance to end this crap. Bring things back to normal."
"I wonder," a bearded miner said softly, "what th' hell normal is. Sure wasn't any with the Rentiers, and then bein' underground, then the rising. I thought maybe things were gettin' to the point of not bein' too bad when the goddamn Musth showed up and we was back in th' crapper."
There was silence in the cavern.
"Aw hell, Poynton," the man said. "I'm in. The soh always told m' dad I was born to be shot."
He stepped forward, then another man, then the stocky woman, and Poynton knew she had them.
"So that's our baby," Garvin said, peering through the dirty side port of the survey ship as it slowly flew along the Musth base's perimeter.
"Does look a bit abandoned," Njangu said hopefully.
"It just better not be too forlorn," Garvin said. "Like the drive's shut down."
"Don't worry, boss," Njangu said. "It'll prob'ly turn out that Alikhan's never flown anything actually like this barge, and we'll be screwed before we start."
"That's the I&R tradition," Garvin said. "Utter cheeriness."
"Here's the cheap lie, Jasith," Garvin said. "You schedule a one-on-one conference with the Musth muck-ety in charge of mining—"
"Pilfern," Jasith said. They were in her suite at Mel-lusin Mining's Planetary Headquarters.
"Pilfern. Make it as late as you can. You'll stop by this ship to check something—"
"I'll be checking how soon that ruptured hold will take to be repaired so we can load ingots at the refinery."
"Good. To your dismay, you found the ship had been seized by bandits, who took your lim and tied you up and left you in a shed."
"Who took my lim and me as a hostage, and ordered us to do whatever they wanted. That will make it more authentic. Tie me up before you take off."
"Goddammit, Jasith, you don't know what you're getting into!"
"Maybe not. But it's past time for a Mellusin to get into something} . That's the way it's going to be, Garvin!"
Garvin realized the subject had been suddenly closed.
"All right," he said. "I'm too tired to argue."
"Does that mean you're too tired to mess around a little?"
Garvin glanced at his watch finger.
" 'Kay. Fifteen minutes for messing around, then I brief the assault team."
"How'd I ever get lucky enough to end up with the last of the romantics?"
There were seven in the first strike team—Garvin, Ben Dill, Monique Lir, Ho Kang, Darod, Montagna, and
Alikhan. The Musth refused to carry a weapon.
"But what if somebody starts shooting at you?" Dill asked.
"If he hits me, our enterprise was not meant to be," Alikhan said equably.
Dill snarled wordlessly, and added a second pistol to his combat harness.
Jasith sent word—the meet was set, just before third-meal.
As the sun settled, her lim landed beside the ore trans-port, Jasith at the controls. She explained to Njangu that she didn't want her driver endangered.
Njangu winced—another bit of irregular behavior the Musth might uncover. But he said nothing.
As soon as Jasith had notified Garvin, lighters began trickling in from the mines. Each carried a handful of hard-faced men and women who were issued black coveralls, weapons, their faces blackened, and given brief orders—"When you off-load around a Musth ship, kill anything that looks like a Musth. Listen to anybody in uniform or any of your people wearing a white armband.
"When the ship takes off, or when ordered, retreat back to this ore transport."
Poynton had named certain of the miners to leadership slots, and they got the armbands.
There were about two hundred raiders, 'Raum and Force, in the ore transport's hold.
Garvin wished he had some kind of speech; finally managed, " 'Kay. It's time to go help some Musth die for their empire," trotted down the ramp, and climbed into the crowded lim.
The canopy slid closed, and, without orders, Running Bear lifted.
Then things started to go wrong.
The lim came across the Musth perimeter fast, broadcasting the recognition signals given Jasith. Each of the AA batteries it overflew responded automatically to the signals. A simple device in the lim bounced these acknowledgments back to the ore transport. On the flight deck of the transport, these were triangulated by Dr. Heiser. Another signal, and the transport took off after the lim.
Musth headquarters sent an aksai to escort the lim, mostly as a courtesy to a high-ranking human. They did not bother to notify Running Bear, pilot of the lim.
Running Bear banked the lim away from its Musth-assigned course as planned, went to full power, and flew toward the targeted Musth field.
Ahead, the mother ship's nose was outlined in fire by the rapidly setting sun.
