by Chris Bunch
Hedley started to say something, turned and stamped out of Williams’ command vehicle.
• • •
“Hey, Monique,” a Beta Team finf called. “The boss wasn’t whistlin’ through his bum. There is a cave.”
“Team forward,” Dec Lir ordered. “Two volunteers, with me. The rest, blow the shit out of anything that moves.” Blaster ready, she entered the dimness of the cave. Smoke billowed, and she coughed, came back out. “Anybody got a light?” Someone tossed her one, and Lir pulled on her gas mask, went back inside. Her light played around the rocks. There were half a dozen corpses, all killed by blast, none appearing hurt except for slight trickles of blood from their ears and mouth.
“Come on in,” she shouted. “We got them all. Goddammit, that horseshit Kipchak had all the fun.” She moved the light more slowly around the chamber, across the stacks of paper, fiches, and shattered computers. “But I think we got a ton and a half of good shit ourselves,” she said to herself. “II Section’s gonna come all over themselves.”
• • •
The five Musth ships landed beside Caud Williams’ C&C Grierson. A center pod on one opened, and Wlencing got out. Two armed Musth flanked him, as he stalked across the waste to Williams. The caud saluted, and Wlencing lifted a clawed arm in acknowledgment.
“Finally,” he said, without preamble, “you have defeated thessse not-worthiesss. Perhapsss, when the time comesss, and we make war on each other, you will not be a helplesss babe.”
Caud Williams could not find a response.
“With thisss,” Wlencing continued, “you will be able to sssmasssh the remainsss of thessse?”
“I hope so,” Williams said. “I think we will.”
“Good,” Wlencing approved. “It isss not fit for the grown to be dissstracted by cubssss.”
• • •
That night, the surviving ’Raum found shelter in a village. The nervous farmers reluctantly fed them.
“Don’t worry,” Jord’n Brooks said. “We are not remaining here, but will leave within the hour.”
Within two days, they would reach, and disappear into, Eckmuhl, the ’Raum district of Leggett, and the war would continue, but on another front.
• • •
Njangu Yoshitaro, Petr Kipchak, Erik Penwyth, and the others of Gamma Team slept through that gore-drenched day, and if they dreamed of blood or slaughter, none of them remembered their dreams when they awoke, late the next day.
CHAPTER
30
“Should I tell you what I’m wearing underneath this jumpsuit?” Jasith whispered.
“Not unless you want me to explode all over your windshield,” Garvin said, a bit hoarsely.
“My windshield doesn’t want that,” she said. “So concentrate on the scenery. For a minute, anyway. See … there’s my house down there.”
Garvin forced his eyes … and his attention … out the canopy. He looked down at a tall buttress nearly in the center of the Heights that had evidently been hollowed out — large glass windows and balconies dotted its face. “Which one is yours?”
“All of them, silly. All those rooms are connected, plus there’s others that’re completely under … not ground, but rock. But none of those are mine mine. My place is over there.” She cut power, and pushed the lifter into a gentle descent. They closed on a huge abandoned mining site, now overgrown with flowers and plants iridescing the colors of paradise. In its center, next to a fountained pool, was a fairly small house, all dark wood.
“That used to be a quarry,” she explained. “One of the first things my great-how-many-times grandfather owned. It produced a multicolored veined rock, like granite, and it was a great favorite when the early Rentiers started building their mansions. I guess the Mellusins have always been miners, even back on Corwin VIII, which is where we came from.
“The quarry made grand-whatever even richer, and then he started buying great chunks of C-Cumbre and other things. But he built his house near where he started. Then the vein played out, and the quarry just sat there, until my mother married my father. She was a Kemper, and their money’s from holding companies, so she always thought she was better than my father. At least, that’s what I heard, even though Daddy never snides her. She died about ten years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Garvin said.
“Don’t be,” Jasith said. “I never thought she liked me very much, and I guess I must’ve been a brat and returned the favor. Anyway, she’s gone, and so it doesn’t matter. She took a look at that quarry, after she and Daddy got back from their honeymoon, and said she wanted to turn it into a garden. She and about three hundred ’Raum she had Daddy hire full-time. She built a little house on the shore of the lake, that’s supposed to be a copy of something called a teahouse from ancient Earth, and spent time there. When she wasn’t buying things, anyway. She was gone a lot when I was growing up. She went to Larix a lot. I don’t know if she had a lover there, or if the stores on Larix have better toys. I guess it wasn’t much of a marriage.
“When she died, I asked if I could have the house, and Daddy gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. And the garden, too. I still have about seventy-five gardeners working for me on the grounds. What’s the matter, Garvin?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Garvin said. “That was just the sound of my mind boggling. So you live down there, all by yourself? And Daddy doesn’t happen to have a spy-beam on your front door or anything? Or has the servants bribed?”
“I don’t know about any spy-beams,” Jasith said. “That only happens in romances, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t put large credits on that,” Garvin said.
“Of course he bribed my servants. But I’ve got my own trust fund, so I bribed them bigger.”
“The very rich aren’t like you and me,” Garvin murmured. “Just sneakier. Can I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“Land this baby, or else we’re liable to find ourselves bumping into range shacks again. I feel a certain set of urges coming on.”
“Anything you want, Garvin. Absolutely anything.”
• • •
“Oh dear,” Jasith said. “I’m afraid my head gardener’s going to be hot at me tomorrow. And I’ll bet my back is all moss-stained and nasty like your knees.”
“You’re the one who wanted to show me the garden instead of the bedroom,” Garvin said.
“But I didn’t think you were that impatient.”
“Now you know. Still am, in fact.” Garvin moved his hips, and Jasith gasped. “You’re ready already?”
“I never stopped being ready,” he said into her ear. “Now lift your legs … slowly. Hook your ankles around my back.”
“Like … like this? … oh … oh … Garvin, not so hard … please … slowly now … now, yes now … oh gods, gods, gods …”
• • •
The restaurant, deep in the heart of the Eckmuhl, had only two things recommending it: It had an entrance on each of four streets; and those streets, unlike most in the Eckmuhl, had excellent line-of-sight perspectives for lookouts. There were two at each exit, armed with mil-issue blasters. A police patrol — three lifters, as was customary in the Eckmuhl — saw the gun guards and sensibly kept on going.
There were seventeen men and women in the restaurant, all armed. Jord’n Brooks and Jo Poynton sat at a table in front of them. “We shall make this brief, brothers and sisters,” he began. “This location can only be considered secure for minutes. You seventeen are the most highly regarded warriors and agents who survived the disastrous and poorly advised jungle campaign. I want to form the new Planning Group, for you to be The Movement’s sohs if you will. A few of you were members of the previous Group, and I request you continue to serve.”
A’Raum stood.
“Yes, Brother Ybarre?”
“This is very irregular, brother. According to custom, the Planning Group should be selected by the fighters, after due consideration, prayer, and discussion.�
��
“In normal times, true,” Brooks agreed. “But these are not normal times. I cannot emphasize that too highly. We took heavy casualties in the forest and when we relocated to the cities. What are your estimates, Sister Poynton?”
“About forty percent,” the woman said. “That’s an estimate, but I think pretty close to the truth.”
There was a low murmur of dismay. Brooks nodded. “Exactly. I do not wish that figure to be spread about, for fear of further destroying morale. We were beaten badly by the Rentiers’ dogs. Let us never forget that, and let us never make the mistake of thinking the Task is completed until we see real victory.
“Our fight will be, must be, in the heart of the enemy. We will strike them hard, and take any target that we find. But these targets must be risk-free. If we are to be hit as hard again as we have been, I fear the Task may lie uncompleted this generation, and will have to wait for another generation of warriors to rebuild The Movement.
“I will not allow this to happen. We must practice patience and cunning, and we also must move swiftly. Time is of the essence. Let me tell you our new grand strategy: I propose the Grand Rising shall occur soon. Very soon. Within the next six months, in fact.” There were exclamations of shock, surprise. “Yes, brothers and sisters. The day is at hand when we shall grasp power. We shall not fail this time. Before the year is out, Cumbre will belong to us.”
• • •
“You’re ’Raum, right?” Njangu asked.
“What makes you think that?” the girl asked.
“My suspicious mind,” he said. “Well?”
“What if I am?”
“Then I’d ask why you’re so interested in a stinking soldier like me?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know … could have something to do with loud bangs and people getting hurt and nonessential things like that,” Yoshitaro said. “Or have you been in a timewarp for the last year or so?”
“I don’t pay any attention to politics,” the girl pouted.
“ ’Kay,” Njangu said. “Now, my next question … since you’re on the, shall we say, youthful-looking side, might I ask if you’re over the age of consent?”
“Is all you soldiers do is talk?”
“Not at all,” Njangu said, leaning closer and whispering in the girl’s ear. Her eyes got wide.
“You talk dirty! And what’s a bunny rabbit?”
“Never mind. Do you want to dance some more?”
“Uh-uh,” the girl said. “Let’s go for a walk. My name’s Limnea.”
“And I’m Njangu the Adequately Equipped.” Njangu stood, dropped coins on the table, and put his service cap on. “Where are we strolling to?”
“Down on the beach, maybe?”
“Sounds as good a place as any to get mugged,” he said.
The blaring music chopped suddenly when the insulated door closed behind them. The night was brilliant — all three moons were up. A breeze came off the bay, and Njangu shivered. The girl, who was wearing a pair of green silk-looking pants that flared hugely at the leg, supported by suspenders that served to hide the nipples of her firm, fairly large breasts, appeared to feel no cold. She had close-cropped red hair, and her eyelids, lips, nails and earlobes were tinted blue. Njangu eyed her, looked at the softly romantic shoreline, at the colorful beached fishing boat they were walking toward, and wished he had a pistol.
“So what do you do with the Force?” Limnea asked.
“Not much,” Njangu said. “Push papers back and forth. Make sure people get paid on time.”
“Oh.” Limnea sounded disappointed. “I thought you were one of those like I’ve seen on the holos. You know, carrying a gun and things like that.”
“Not me,” Njangu said. “Loud noises terrify me.”
They reached the boat, and Njangu leaned back against it, Limnea beside him. “You can take it as a compliment if you want,” he said, “or not, but you remind me of some of the girls I used to clique with.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Not a lot,” he said. “And maybe I’m wrong. I’d sure like to be.” He put his hands on Limnea’s hips, moved her in front of him, pulled her back against him.
“Isn’t it pretty?” she said.
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, hands moving around and around on her belly.
“That feels good,” she said softly. He moved his hands up, cupped her breasts, tweaked her nipples with his fingers. She sighed, turned, put her arms around him. Her tongue darted into his mouth.
Limnea’s open eyes flickered, and Njangu threw her into the man coming at him with a knife. She squealed, fell to the sand. The man slashed at Njangu, and Yoshitaro bent backward. The man recovered, tried a thrust, and Yoshitaro grabbed his wrist with his left hand, yanked him down, and snapped a knee up into the man’s rib cage. Bones snapped loudly, and the man gagged and fell. Njangu kicked him in the face, and scooped up his knife as the second man came in. Yoshitaro slashed, and the man yelped, pulled his bleeding guard arm back.
The two fenced for an instant, then Njangu reversed his grip on the blade, jumped to the side and smashed a fist into the man’s neck, snapped his hand back, swinging the blade out and ripping the man’s face open. The man stumbled sideways, blade whipping back and forth, keeping Njangu off.
Njangu waved his knife flashily, the man’s eyes flickered to it, and Njangu stamp-kicked the man’s instep. The man grunted, lunged at Njangu, who sidestepped, and slashed the man’s wrist open. Blood sprayed, and the man gasped, clutched his fountaining wound. Njangu kicked him very hard in the solar plexus. His attacker gagged, folded, went flat.
“I hate being right sometimes,” he said. Limnea was running hard down the beach. He went after her, caught up with her in a dozen meters, knocked her sprawling. She rolled over, looked up at him. He still held the knife.
“How did you know?”
“That you weren’t just interested in my fair white young body? Easy,” Njangu said. “The only time a soldier walks in a bar and the prettiest girl spots him and has to jump his bones is in the holos. Mostly we end up paying for it, or with a skunk, or pounding our puds after the money’s been spent buying some who-gives-a-shit honey champagne cocktails. Plus you were a little obvious.”
“Don’t kill me,” she said. “Please.”
“Why not? You would’ve let your two goons kill me,” Yoshitaro said reasonably. “Now answer my question. You’re ’Raum?”
Limnea nodded jerkily.
“Were you and your friends interested in robbery? Or just a dead Forceman?”
Limnea didn’t answer.
“I’ll guess the last, you debonair revolutionary you. So now the question becomes, what should I do now? Scream shrilly in the key of C for a cop?” Limnea’s eyes were wide in fear. “I’ve heard rumors the noble Policy and Analysis policemen have some interesting interrogation techniques with Raum suspects,” he said. “Particularly female ones.”
“Please,” Limnea whispered.
“Please my left testicle,” Njangu said. “You wouldn’t have shown me any mercy, now would you?”
“They might not have killed you,” she said.
“Yeh. And I’m the Queen of Sheba.” He looked around. “Get up.”
She obeyed, eyes fixed on him, and on the knife.
“See those rocks over there? Go on over.”
She obeyed.
“Very well,” he said. “Negotiations can begin. It’s either the cops, or …? Remembering that a good revolutionary always knows how to think on her knees.”
Very slowly, she slid the suspenders from her shoulders, let them fall to the side. She undid a fastening, and her pants pooled about her feet. She wore only matching briefs, pulled them down and was naked.
“An excellent start. Now, come here.”
She came toward him. Her breath was coming faster, and her lips were slightly parted.
“When we were interrupted so rudely, you were doing someth
ing with your tongue,” he said.
Limnea kissed him, and her hands fumbled with his belt, his trousers snaps. She pulled her lips from his. “We have a saying,” she said. “The one who completes his Task is rewarded.”
“Or, to the victor belong the spoils,” Njangu said. He looked at the knife in his hand, sent it spinning, a silver circle splashing into the water. He began unfastening his shirt.
“No,” she said. “When you do it to me, I want to feel your medals, want them to dig into me. But first, I must be on my knees, as you ordered me.”
• • •
The ’Raum hit post offices in half a dozen cities across D-Cumbre, including two in Leggett. The raiders knew just what they wanted, exploding safes for the credits inside, and all official correspondence for its intelligence values. There were only two ’Raum casualties, both minor, and they were gone with the other raiders by the time police units arrived.
PlanGov responded by suspending habeas corpus — suspects could be held, without trial, for as long as two months. Special internment centers were set up on outer islands and were quickly filled.
Governor General Haemer announced a new identity card would be issued to all ’Raum. After a certain date, anyone without a card or with the old identification was subject to immediate arrest. This would force the men and women of The Movement into the open. Or so was the theory.
The Rentiers’ Council voted to levy a two-million-credit fine on the entire ’Raum community, for sheltering criminals and dissidents and failing to support the properly constituted government, but Governor Haemer vetoed the measure.
The men and women of the Heights muttered angrily — the Confederation, or what was left of it, clearly was soft, spineless. Firm measures needed to be taken at once.
Policemen patrolled in at least pairs, frequently more, and wore combat vests, ballistic armor, and many carried mil-issue blasters.
