"Bando, up here!" I heard Nance whisper, and I scanned the tops of the dunes until I saw her silhouette against the night sky. I climbed up until I was next to her.
"There."
I looked toward that little patch of stars in the south, then down at my feet. The camp was right below us.
"I'll start surrounding the place now," said Nance.
"Have everybody ready to light up one of those fire cubes for when they get in place."
"Why? That'll make it easy for them to see us."
"Seeing is believing."
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An Offer They Couldn't Refuse
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Once the Razai had the Reds surrounded, Nance gave me the high sign. I had my rifle over my shoulder and my hand on the pistol grip as I walked down the dune into the Red's camp. There was a peculiar war going on inside my head. One side wanted to stay alive, to find Alna, to have peace, to live happily ever after. The other side wanted to die, and to take as many Reds with me as I could. It made me reckless and impatient.
A guard standing in front of me called "Halt!" I didn't stop, and he raised his weapon and fired, missing me by a yard. I pulled my weapon down and said, "Join the Razai or die."
He fired again, and I felt the slug whiz through the cloth covering my right shoulder. In a second it started to sting. I pulled the trigger to my weapon and shot a round through the guard's chest. Another guard, twenty yards away, lifted his weapon to bring me down, and a flash in the dark from outside the perimeter thinned him flat.
Voice alarms went up all over the camp, and I kept walking until I was near some large tents. "Where's the commander of this camp?" I hollered.
A youngish man with a surprised face emerged from what I imagined was their smaller version of the Men's Hall. He was followed by a man with an older face framed by a black beard. The one with the black beard said, "I am Novi Abennis. Temporary commander of t—"
Nance and the Razai touched off the lights, and it was impressive. From the dunes surrounding the camp came the sinister gleams of a monster with a thousand eyes. Novi Abennis's eyebrows mated with his hairline and I could almost see the digits adding in his head as he scanned the lights.
"What is this?"
"Novi, this is a once-in-a-lifetime offer," I said. I placed my rifle over my shoulder again. "I want the surrender of your camp. Have your men stack up their weapons and file out."
"You are from the Razai?"
"Yes."
A crafty look came into the fellow's eyes. "We have prisoners. Hostages from your ship. Women. We have over four hundred of them."
"I know. That's why we're here."
"Can we make a deal?"
"Sure, we can make a deal, Novi Abennis. You do what I say, surrender and have your men stack their weapons, and I'll let you stay alive."
His eyes darted back and forth in his head, desperately trying to find a route of escape. "I must talk with Pau Avanti, with my staff."
"No talk. Just surrender. You don't have much time. Avanti is dead, and so is the Hand in this part of the desert."
"Razai," said the man, "if I give the word, my men will kill the hostages. Wouldn't it be smarter for you to deal?"
"I'm pretending I didn't hear that, squid. We have a rule that holds that a threat is the same as performing the deed, so if you threaten murder, you get punished for murder, whatever happens to the victim. A crazy rule, but we like it so we're going to keep it. But, instead of slaying you here on the spot for threatening mass murder, I'm going to let you surrender."
He smirked at me and said, "If I give the word—"
I leaned forward and stuck my words right in his face. "First, at top speed with an automatic weapon, it would take your goomba jerk offs minutes to kill all of the hostages. Second, you don't have any automatic weapons. Third, it will only take us seconds to kill all of you. Fourth, we figure there're worse things than dying, and being a slave is one of them. If you want to shoot, shoot, if being dead is what you're aiming at."
"I don't know!" Abennis held out his hands. "I have to think. What would happen to me and my men if we should be captured by Carlo T.?"
"Don't let that happen."
"I have to think!"
I moistened my lips and pointed my rifle at his face. I could feel the advancing wall of rage coming over me. "You know something? I asked to talk to you because I was sick of all the killing and I wanted it to stop. I thought maybe I could do a little toward stopping it. But, you know, after one minute of talking with you, I feel like killing all over again!"
He raised his hands. "Take it easy." He pointed with his thumb at some of his men. "What will happen to us if I do as you say?"
I took a deep breath and let it out again. "We can't hold prisoners. So if we don't kill you, you can either join the Razai or go off on your own. You leave the prisoners and the weapons behind."
"Who gets killed?"
"That's up to your prisoners, although if you start killing them, I can guarantee all of you die." I aimed the rifle at his nose. "Your time's up. Five, four, three, two—"
"All right! I'm surrendering!" He turned around and shouted toward the tents and the armed men gathering in front of them. All of the Reds who were outside were looking at the lights. "Men, we are surrendering. Stack your rifles. Those still in the tents come out here." He looked up at the perimeter. "You men on guard, lay down your weapons. Everyone stack arms and come out into the open!"
As the Reds filed out of the tents and stacked their weapons, I heard the rumble of Marietta's voice come out of the night. "Damn, Pancho! Hot Damn!"
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A Pure Rookie
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An hour later I found Stays beginning the job of processing the charges of the prisoners. His head was bandaged and he was talking to one of the bath attendants from the Men's Hall. Her brief bath costume was covered by a sheet, and her name was Margo Hoyt. She was reading his copy of The Law of the Razai. She nodded and faced the booklet toward him. "That's what it says right there. If a crime is being committed, and the Razai is asked for help, the Razai cannot refuse."
"I know, but—"
"In the Sunrise Mountains the Hand holds thousands of slaves, men and women, just like us."
"The prisoners we rescued were from our own ship."
She waved the booklet in Stays's face. "It doesn't say anything in here about a ship."
"But they haven't asked us for help."
"I'm one of those slaves, copper, and I'm asking you for help." I saw Stays's face blanch. I couldn't figure out if it was at being called copper or going to the Sunrise Mountains to whip the Hand's half million with our two thousand plus.
"Excuse me," I said. "Stays, I'm taking a couple of critters and going off to find Alna. Is your head all right?"
"I'm fine. Bando, what am I supposed to do about this one? She says that—"
I held up my hand. "I heard." I smiled a little as I fed him back one of his own wisecracks. "What we don't have covered, we make up as we go along." I faced the woman. "Keep at him. I think you have a case."
Margo looked at me through narrowed eyes. "I gave you a bath."
I felt the heat in my face. "That's right."
"What's your name?"
"Bando Nicos."
She nodded. "You are the chief of the Razai Cops?"
"Yes."
"I want to join."
I glanced at Stays, Stays held out his hands, and I looked back at Margo. "Why do you want to be an RC?"
"The Razai is down on slavery and rape, the RCs enforce the law, and before you can free my people, you have a lot of cases your investigators have to decide."
"What about all the other cases?" Stays interrupted.
I shrugged and held my hand out toward Margo Hoyt. "Here's some help for you, W
atson."
Stays held his hand to his bandaged head. "What was the name of your hotel, Margo?"
"Prison?" She spat on the sand. "I'm pure, ratbait. I was born here."
Margo Hoyt was no crime, nothin' but time, pure. Her story would have to wait. I looked at Stays. "I'll be back as soon as I can. For now, you, Marantha, Marietta, Cap, and the rookie here sort out the crimes, charges, and executions. I'm taking a few days off."
"I'm in?" asked Margo.
"You're in," I answered, thinking that Marantha, Marietta, and Margo sounded like a weird law firm. Facing Stays, I asked, "Have you figured out some way to avoid coming up with conflicting rules?"
"Yeah. The investigators all drop everything, huddle, and take a vote. It's clumsy, but it's all we could agree on."
"Sounds fine. Adios."
Stays eyed the beautiful bath attendant with the mean expression. "The way things are going right now, Bando, by the time you return we might be heading east against the Hand instead of south against Kegel."
"Stick a light on top of a tall dune at night. I'll find you."
"Hey, look at this." Stays reached beneath his sheet and pulled out a sawed-down version of a rifle, except this one had a very large caliber barrel. He held it above his head, aimed at the belly of the spider, and pulled the trigger. A shower of white sparks streaked into the night sky. We were too close to see how high it went.
"A signal gun," said Stays. "How about I send one of these up every hour or so at night?"
"Have you got enough ammo for that?"
"Cases of it."
I nodded. "Okay. That ought to do it."
Stays reached out a hand and placed it on my arm. "Take care, Chief. And about Alna, good luck."
I turned to accept a goodbye from Margo Hoyt, but she was busy studying The Law of the Razai. What with Cap Brady being a cop, Marantha being a cop and having a law degree, Stays crawling with education, and now with Margo Hoyt zealously absorbing the words, I figured it wouldn't hurt if I studied the law a little myself if I should ever get a spare moment.
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I grabbed a lughox for myself and another for Alna. In addition I took a load of extra water bottles, some rations and a huge sack of those fire cubes. Instead of retracing our steps, I headed northwest into the darkness to try and cut Alna's trail. After an hour of riding, I began lighting fire cubes and throwing them out in front of me to see if I could find tracks.
Why was I there? It was because I couldn't get the image of Herb and Marantha kissing out of my mind. The feelings I had weren't feelings I had ever felt before, so I didn't have any words for them. All I could think of every time that picture of Marantha crying and kissing Herb came into my mind was, I want some of that. I need some of that. There was that look in her eyes, that note in her voice, when she talked about Herb. Maybe Alna didn't want me any more, but I wanted to make certain she knew that I wanted her. Maybe Alna needed some of that, too. That was why she had left.
After three or four hours of riding, I saw the tracks the column had made as it had moved south. I turned the critter north to follow the trail back, and I checked four more times with the fire cubes, and each time the lugh was still on the trail. Satisfied that the critter could find his own way, I folded my arms and tried to doze as I rode. The dreams came and I slept in the shadow of the Spider.
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The Eighth Day
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The sun woke me up. Half of its disk was above the horizon, and I was already uncomfortably warm. The lughox wasn't moving. I dismounted and looked at its face, but it didn't seem any more tired than the other one. Still, I figured it wouldn't hurt to rest them a bit. They had been going all night. I took one of the water bottles and poured half of it down the critter's upraised mouth. I emptied the rest into the other critter that I had been leading.
As I removed my parka and shirt beneath my sheet, I looked at the tracks made by a thousand plus people. Individual trails by the dozens went off to the sides. If you wanted any privacy, that was where you had to go. I looked at my own tracks in the soft sand and couldn't tell the difference between them and the others. The only way I could try and find Alna was to try and find Nkuma. That meant riding until I reached where Nkuma had split off, then heading west toward the mirage.
I thought for a moment that by heading northwest, I could cut Nkuma's trail and shorten the time by a couple of days, but I might miss Alna. I wouldn't know whether she was in front of me or behind me. I scratched my head when I realized that was already my problem. I could have passed her during the night and not have known.
I muttered a curse or two as I climbed to the top of the nearest dune and strained my eyes to see. It was nothing but what it had always been, a vast ocean of sand. It was the Union of Terran Republics' litter box. I faced north and squatted on top of the dune as I tried to piece together some kind of plan.
Right then the only thing that seemed to make any sense was heading back to the camp and starting over with the search, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I saw a flash of reflected light coming from the north. I held my breath and waited for another, but saw nothing. Was it my imagination? Was it Alna? Was it someone else?
Suddenly I felt very vulnerable about being alone on the Forever Sand. There were a lot of sharks on Tartaros, and lots of them were taught to swim in the desert.
I saw it again! The flash!
I slid, tumbled down the slope, and mounted my critter. "Let's go, animal!"
It started off at a walk, but at my urging, it began to do something between a trot and a gallop. Whatever it was, we were moving. I kept up the trollop, always heading north, and when the critter began slowing down, I switched critters, let them walk for an hour or so, then moved them into a trollop again.
Twice I stopped to climb a dune and examine the north for more flashes of reflected light, but saw nothing. As my initial excitement wore off and the day wore on, I took out my copy of The Law of the Razai and read the additions since Tenbene v. Ollick.
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46. During trials spectators will be unarmed. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
47. Officers of the court will be armed during trials. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
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I nodded as I thought that there were a couple of sensible rules. I noticed that we had not mentioned if the cockroaches were officers of the court. I made a mental note to make certain that cockroaches were not officers of the court, should the subject ever arise.
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48. The infliction of the maximum payback for obstructing justice applies to everyone, including the spectators. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
49. The first thing to be determined in a trial is the max payback under consideration. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
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If a bunch of spectators did get out of hand, I wondered if thinning the lot would be supported or end the Razai. There wasn't any room for slack left in the wording, unless the execution of the payback is left to the victim. But who is the victim when 'justice is obstructed'? In such cases it would be up to the investigator to decide whether the victim of the obstruction was the victim in the case or the perp.
For a thin second, I envied Pendril, Rossiter, and Marantha their training in the law. The more I looked at it, and the more I thought about it, the more it seemed as though I was way out of my depth.
But then I thought about the law we did have and how it had worked. If we had been using juicer law from Earth, we'd still be fighting about who would be on the jury in Freddy v. Dick Irish. I turned the page.
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50. Friends of the court may testify. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
51. Compulsion, addiction, or otherwise suffering the symptoms of a compulsive disease are no defense if the perp could have sought help prior to the commission of the crime. (Bennet v.
Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
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Fifty-one seemed to go against some universal truth or racial memory. How many times had the perps said "I was drunk, judge," and the black rags tapped their wrists and said, "don't do it again." Then the perp goes and does it again, and the black rag gives him another tap on the wrist because, well, after all, he was drunk. He wasn't in his right mind. He didn't know what he was doing.
On Tartaros the argument played a little differently. "I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing."
"Then you should have stopped drinking."
"I couldn't stop."
"Then you should have gotten some help."
"Well, I wasn't ready for that. After all, I wasn't that bad—"
Bang.
You're dead. The price of not getting help has just gone through the roof.
Would it make a difference? The CSA meeting seemed to tell me that it would make a difference. Time would tell, and that's one thing we had lots of on Tartaros was time.
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52. Truth is the only acceptable plea. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
53. Forcing sex upon someone who has refused the advance, is rape. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
54. Accomplices are as guilty as the perp. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
55. Witnesses to a crime who take no action to prevent the crime are as guilty as the perp. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
56. The jury may make non-binding recommendations regarding payback to the victim. (Bennet v. Myerson) On the march, Day 7.
INFINITY HOLD3 Page 27
