A Fistful of Strontium

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A Fistful of Strontium Page 17

by Jaspre Bark


  "Unfortunately for you, general," said the Consoler, "I am not concerned with making things easy for myself. My only wish is to live in a fair and equal society."

  "Look at you," said Rising contemptuously. "Do you really think any norm could see you as an equal? You're ugly, misshapen - a freak! They don't deserve your loyalty. They're laughing at you behind your back!"

  "I don't believe that is true."

  "They aren't like us. Norms stick together and that is what we have to do if we are to resist them. Do you want Miltonia to become like every other world? Is that what you want, to sell your own kind back into slavery?"

  "You speak of norms and mutants," said the Consoler. "I believe the distinction is irrelevant."

  "Irrelevant?" Rising howled. "Perhaps you've never been to another world, Consoler. Perhaps you've never applied for a job as a mutant, or asked for a meal in a norm café, or tried to book a seat on a transport ship. Perhaps you've never been spat at in the street. Your mutancy may be 'irrelevant' to you, but believe me it is very relevant to our enemies, the people who begrudge us our contentment here!"

  "I have seen my share of prejudice, I assure you. That is why it matters to me that Miltonia should be different; better."

  Rising lowered his voice, his tone heavy with threat. "I'm trying to reason with you here. I know no true mutant would talk like this if he were thinking clearly. I know the tactics those scum probably used on you. They'll have starved you, beaten you, torn down your self-esteem, turned you around until you don't know which way is up. Well, believe me, Consoler, we have men who know those tactics, too, only I'm trying to spare you that. Give me something, some indication that there's still a good man, a loyal mutant in there, and things needn't get unpleasant. Tell me about the Salvationists!"

  That was when Middenface realised something about General Rising. He realised that whenever he spoke about the norm threat, or about the Salvationists as terrorists, and about their supposed brainwashing of the Consoler; when he spoke about all that, he actually believed it.

  Another hour passed before Rising straightened, let out a tired sigh and rubbed three of his reddened eyes. He gestured to Middenface to follow him outside, but the S/D agent caught the look that passed between the general and his two guards as they left. He knew what that look meant.

  The door closed, leaving him alone with Rising in the grey corridor. The sounds of muffled violence reached them a moment later. Rising shot Middenface a look as if daring him to protest. He said nothing. The Consoler had accepted this possibility when he had agreed to Johnny's plan. He had been so eager for a chance to meet his brother that he hadn't cared about the risk to himself. Middenface had enough to worry about himself now, with Kit nowhere to be seen and Rising's attention focused back upon him.

  "His conditioning is stronger than I thought," said Rising. "It'll take us some time to break it. If we don't break him first." He smiled a humourless smile and continued. "Pity. His information would have been useful, but we can't afford to wait for it."

  "Ye've got somethin' planned?" asked Middenface.

  "Let's just say that in a few days from now, our men will have the weapons they need to end this war. And with all you must have learned about the enemy..."

  Middenface swallowed. "Ah awready told yer," he stalled. "Cash first." A particularly nasty sounding thud from behind the door made him wince.

  "May I remind you," snapped Rising, "that this is a matter of planetary security!"

  Middenface folded his arms and squared up to him stubbornly. The general sighed again and marched up to a wall-mounted intercom. He asked to be patched through to Nose Job Johnson, and Middenface felt a small thrill of anticipation as the familiar voice of the president's advocate crackled from a tiny speaker.

  "Yes, Rising?"

  "I'm down by the detention rooms with our bounty hunter friend," said the general. "He's impatient for his money. Can you deal?"

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Too long, thought Middenface.

  "I'm tied up at the moment," Nose Job finally responded. "I'll send down somebody from admin." And he signed off with a harsh click.

  So he did suspect. He was staying out of their way on purpose.

  Middenface seethed with frustration. His first instinct was to fight his way up to Nose Job Johnson's office and wrap his hands around his scrawny neck, but he knew he'd never get there.

  In the room behind him the beating continued. The Consoler, however, hadn't cried out once. Middenface could picture him enduring the punishment with his usual equanimity. He respected that, but he could also imagine how it would goad his torturers to greater efforts. He might be an aggravating son of a bitch, he thought, but he didn't deserve that. And Middenface needed somebody to punch. What the hell, he thought, and punched Rising.

  The blow landed squarely in the middle of the general's face and its effect was startling. Rising's body went rigid, his eight eyes glassy, and he toppled backwards to land like a plank of wood. Middenface looked down at the unconscious soldier as he wrung his grazed knuckles, feeling a little satisfied that he'd been right about him all along. He was nothing but a desk monkey.

  A brief search revealed that, to Middenface's chagrin, Rising was carrying no weapons. Still, the odds were only one against two and he had the element of surprise.

  He shouldered open the door to the interrogation room and charged in with fists flying.

  Middenface helped the Consoler up off the floor and back into his seat. The Salvationists' leader slumped over the table. "Thank you, my friend," he said hoarsely. "I'm not sure I could have taken much more of that treatment."

  "Sorry I couldnae have been less violent aboot it," he said wryly, glancing at the bodies of the two guards.

  The Consoler winced and then nodded, accepting his point. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid you have rather blown your cover here."

  "Aye, I'd say I have at that. Can ye walk? If we're quick, we can git upstairs and oot that back door and awae in one of their own trucks before anyone knows whit's happened."

  The Consoler shook his head. "You're right. You should go. But I'm staying here." In response to Middenface's questioning look, he explained. "My brother is in this building. I sensed it as soon as we arrived. I thought our psychic link had dissipated, but I was wrong. It feels stronger than ever." He seemed happy about that. "I can sense Kit's feelings, almost read his thoughts and, I'm afraid, he mine. Kit suspected that I didn't come here as a prisoner, that's why he stayed away. He's worried."

  "He's got good reason tae be."

  "I know you had your own motives for coming here with me," said the Consoler, "but I only ever wanted to talk to Kit and I believe that is still possible. Once you are out of the way, he will feel safe to come down here and see me."

  "And ye're really sure ye want that? 'Cos twin brother or no, we're talkin' aboot a nasty piece of work, here. If you and Kit have got this cyclical link, then how come he didnae lift a finger tae help when his own people were laying into ye?"

  "I know my words are unlikely to make a difference," said the Consoler with a sad sigh, "but I could not live with myself if I didn't try every method to win peace without bloodshed. Go, Mr McNulty. Return to your partner and the others, tell them what's happened, and do what you must. I will continue to do all I can for our cause, but in my own way."

  Middenface felt he should argue, but he didn't have the Consoler's mastery of words. He was trying to think of something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, when his companion suddenly flashed him a kind smile and said: "I wish I had known your grandmother. I'd have liked the chance to congratulate her on raising such a fine young man."

  Middenface returned his smile awkwardly and realised that there was nothing more to be said. He turned instead and did as the Consoler had requested.

  He ran.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ARMS RACE

  A cheer went up in the camp.

 
; Johnny was in one of the main buildings when he heard the noise. The building was usually used as a meeting hall, but it had been converted into headquarters for the War Council. He looked up from the schematic of the presidential palace that he had been studying.

  "Any big celebrations planned?" he asked Elephant Head.

  "None that I know of," she replied with a shrug.

  One of their Salvationist guards burst into the room. "Middenface is back!" he announced with great excitement. Elephant Head fixed him with a stern look. The man looked apologetic, took a deep breath and said: "Sorry, Middenface is back, ma'am and, er... sir. Permission to join the others, ma'am?" Elephant Head exchanged looks with Johnny and then dismissed the guard. They followed him outside to investigate the commotion.

  The whole camp was elated. Everyone was crowding into the centre, and there, right in the thick of things was Middenface, being carried on the shoulders of two norms and brandishing a bottle of Scotch in both hands.

  "Johnny," he called out as he saw his partner, "have a drink on me!" He tossed him one of the bottles. "I liberated a crate o' them on my way back here."

  Johnny handed the bottle to Elephant Head. "And now we're going to put every one of them under lock and key. Most of these soldiers have training and manoeuvres for the rest of the day. This is not the time for recreation or celebration. We've just started a war and now we need to win it."

  "Right enough," said Middenface. His mood quickly became sombre and he climbed down from the norms' shoulders. He picked up the pilfered crate of bottles and handed them to Elephant Head. "Here's a few more prisoners fer ye." Then he grinned and slapped Johnny on the shoulder. "So it's good tae have me back, aye?"

  Johnny's mood softened and his usually austere expression cracked into a smile. "You don't know how good," he said.

  "That's it, party's over!" Elephant Head told the assembled crowd. "You heard the man, it's time to get back to work."

  The Salvationists began to disperse, but not without a number of groans and mutters of discontent. The rush of enthusiasm that had come with the decision to take action had now dissipated in the face of the hardships of a military campaign. In spite of their success so far, many of the volunteers were beginning to have misgivings about its cost. Most of them had lost friends or family members. Some were starting to suggest that they should have stayed on the Consoler's path of non-violent revolt, and others dared voice the opinion that terrorist tactics would have been more effective. Johnny knew he would have to maintain a firm hand if he was to keep everyone in line and on board with the programme.

  Back inside headquarters, Johnny was keen to hear Middenface's story. Also in attendance were Elephant Head, Doubletalk, Walrus and Moosehead. Unfortunately, Middenface wasn't a great one for detail except for when it came to recounting his fights, and Johnny had to keep going over points again, pressing him for precise answers.

  "Aye, but it felt good tae lay that scunner oot," Middenface was boasting. "Ye shouldae seen 'im go doon. One punch an' he was oot."

  "Okay," said Johnny patiently, "but I need you to go over everything Rising said before you punched him. In detail."

  "Och, my blood was boilin' an' ah was distracted by the beatin' the Consoler was takin'. Ah'm not sure ah can recall."

  "Try!" Johnny said in a tone that left no room for protest.

  "They were workin' 'im over pretty bad, though." Johnny could see that the others were distressed by this news. Walrus in particular had advised very strongly against the Consoler's return to the palace.

  "But he said they couldn't wait for any intel the Consoler might have because..." Johnny prompted, steering his partner away from the violent part of the story.

  "That's right, they had somethin' planned. Rising didnae say what, but he said his men would soon have the weapons they needed tae end this war. He kept pumpin' me fer the exact whereabouts of this place but I gave nothin' away."

  "He must mean those special blasters we recovered from the camp," said Elephant Head. "You don't think they've found a way to mass-produce them, do you?"

  "I don't know," said Johnny. "What's the name of that norm we have working on the blasters again? The one who's trying to backward engineer them?"

  "That'll be Valerie," said Doubletalk, "and she isn't a norm. I understand she's made some progress and she wants to talk to you."

  "Bring her in," said Johnny.

  He recalled that Valerie was one of the prisoners they had liberated on their way to the internment camp. She had chosen to join the Salvationists and fought alongside Elephant Head in the attack on the barracks. Elephant Head spoke very highly of her. It came to light later that she had been an engineer for Miltonia's top mining organisation until the political climate had changed and she been fired and ultimately interned for not being mutated enough.

  Valerie was escorted into the room by two guards. She was carrying two of the blasters recovered from the internment camp, both semi-dismantled.

  "So what have you discovered?" asked Johnny as she placed the blasters on the table in front of him.

  "Quite a lot, actually," said Valerie. "I'm afraid it cost me two blasters to discover everything, but I think it's worth it."

  "I'm not keen on losing any weapons at the moment, so convince me the information is more valuable," Johnny said sternly.

  "I will," said Valerie. Johnny liked her attitude.

  She opened up one blaster and pulled out a small metal case. "This is what protects the circuitry from the EMPs generated by the magnetinium field. It's a rare alloy that is both non-ferrous and electrically non-conductive."

  "But surely it's far too small to hold all the necessary circuitry?" said Doubletalk.

  "And what about the power pack?" barked Walrus.

  Valerie continued, unfazed by the barrage of questions. She took an identical case from the second blaster which had its end sawn off. She extracted a thin tube with a green crystal pulsing in its centre. "This is specially designed liquid circuitry powered by an insulated dilithium crystal. It's extremely specialist stuff. It certainly wasn't made here on Miltonia, I can tell you that."

  "How can you be so sure?" asked Johnny.

  "Liquid circuitry is a specialised field," said Valerie. "It's as much an art form as it is a science. There aren't many organisations undertaking this work and each of them has its own special signature. This one comes from Earth. Plus this alloy isn't produced anywhere in this quadrant. I've worked at what passes for the cutting edge of technology here on Miltonia, and it's too new a planet to have the talent, the infrastructure, or the raw materials to construct this sort of thing. It had to be made offworld, and a custom job like this wouldn't have come cheap. No one has the money or the expertise to mass-produce these yet."

  "Then the government must have commissioned a limited number of them," said Doubletalk, alarmed, "just for the purpose of crushing us."

  "I would suggest that the weapons we seized from the camp were a prototype, to road test the design before they committed to having a whole batch made," said Valerie.

  "Did Rising give you any idea of when his attack might take place?" Johnny asked Middenface.

  "Aye, he said somethin' aboot 'a few days from now'. And it took me three days tae find ma way back through these sneckin' mountains tae ye!"

  "Moosehead, your scouts have been watching the army base in the foothills. Have they seen any trucks or carrier ships come in?"

  "No," said Moosehead, "but they've just been joined by a new battalion. At first we thought they were there to relieve the current soldiers, but no one has left and our agents inform us there's another battalion marching to join them from the south."

  "That gives us some idea of the numbers we'll be facing and how many weapons they're bringing in," said Johnny. "How are they likely to deliver them?"

  "For a cargo that size, it would have to be an air carrier," said Elephant Head. "It's the only thing the armed forces have that could handle the job. That means tha
t if it's to avoid the magnetinium field, there's only one feasible route it could take from Clacton Fuzzville."

  "But two possible ones," Moosehead corrected her. "My guess is they'll use the less obvious of the two. They'll assume Middenface has told us everything he knows, and that we'll have the direct route staked out. The alternative route is longer and more dangerous, but also more secluded. They've used it before when they needed to move troops and equipment in secret."

  "How did you find out about it?" asked Walrus.

  Moosehead grinned. "I just happen to stumble across these things now and again."

  "We have to stop it," said Doubletalk. "But how?"

  His words cast a pall of gloom over the room. No one dared say it, but they all knew there was no way they could hold off such a sizeable attack. Johnny knew he had to be decisive to keep spirits high.

  "We'll attack them in the one place they're vulnerable!" he announced.

  "Where's that, Johnny?" asked Middenface.

  "Where they least expect it," he replied. "In the air!" He turned to Valerie who was waiting to be dismissed. "Do you think you could adapt the liquid circuitry from these blasters to rewire some fried jetpacks?"

  "It could be done," she said, "but we'd have to be out of the range of the magnetinium field."

  "That's all I need to know. Moosehead, you must have entered the mountains the same way we did, using a jetpack. Do you remember where you left yours?"

  "In one of the hideaways I had in the mountains," said Moosehead. "I can take you there, it's not far."

  "Good," said Johnny. "We'll need to take a detour to where we stashed ours as well. Elephant Head, you need to organise manpower and transport to meet us after we've done the job. Time is of the essence. We leave in two hours."

 

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