by James Cox
Though the hour was late the bar hadn't closed and that figured importantly in Micah's plan. He balanced the risk of breaking into a business in operation against the looser security. Through judicious use of Ferrel's spider Micah located the building's storage rooms and their likely relationship to the back entrance.
Bypassing the alarm on the door took Micah longer than it would Ferrel but he still did it quickly. Inside the room Micah crept to the appropriate door, picked the lock and let himself into the storeroom. With a careful ear to the bar-ward door Micah searched the barrels, boxes and racks until he found what he wanted. Micah opened the box carefully; inside, nestled within the spongy packing material, lay three large bottles of 'prime stim from Humble Piety.' A dent in the material showed where a fourth bottle once rested. Micah inserted a tracking pin into the wood where it would not be seen.
Micah wandered around the room planting somewhat-larger but still easily hidden devices. As he finished Micah heard the key rattle in the bar door. Moving quickly Micah left through the other door, locked it and retraced his steps to his entrance. He re-locked the door and activated the alarm, with a slight modification.
Back at the house Micah paced. Kidwell and Ferrel hadn't returned. Not that they should have but Micah felt a twinge of anxiety. He considered blipping them, again, and decided against it. Again. Finally the door opened and they stepped through.
“Six-sigma,” said Ferrel, “We are prepared!”
***
The next morning they rose early and attended Matins at a nearby congregational. Apart from more martial hymns and a more militant message it differed little from what Micah remembered.
Micah spent most of the day splitting his attention between the Dome of the Circle, from whence information flowed, and Loglain's residence. The officials Micah saw moved purposefully between the buildings comprising the Dome complex. As they passed and noticed people they raised hands in benediction, their minds obviously set on other things. Micah took careful note of the crowd, its tensions, and its overall mood.
Back at the house Kidwell handed Micah a paper flyer.
“Good work,” said Micah, meaning it, “Do you think they'll appreciate our efforts on their part?”
“Doubtful,” grinned Kidwell, “I just hope we do.”
Micah returned her grin. Among certain segments of the population thirst motivated more easily than greed.
***
“Rough crowds today,” said Ferrel. He arrived just before full dark. “It seems a great number of brawny laborers and hard-working folk are gathering.”
“Indeed,” replied Kidwell, “Shall we join them?”
Micah and Ferrel milled around the edge of the crowd at the bar. Most of the folk there, laborers from the businesses Ferrel and Kidwell targeted, kept a jovial mood. On learning of the party he was to host the saloon's owner produced what consumables he didn't mind giving away. Predictably, the crowd grew as word spread. Micah and Ferrel worked their way inside.
Chaos, but good-intentioned! The barkeep explained while handing out bottles and filling steins that the owner had not, in fact, announced an anti-League party for this evening. Yes, he'd seen the fliers and yes, that was his picture. Yes, that did look like his hand-written invitation - Ferrel grinned upon hearing that - but no, he hadn't published them. Most of the customers accepted this and paid but Micah heard some surliness. The holovees blared out news from the Dome and ragged cheers greeted each reiteration of some stale bit of news.
Close to midnight the owner had enough. After an evening of losing money he was in no mood to stay open late and continue it. The crowd, though, grew and grew. The lower-than-usual prices led many to overindulge and the mood, while still merry, balanced on a razor's edge.
“Not right, I tell'ee,” slurred Micah to a table full of jolly men, “We should be celebratin', we should! Shouldn't oughta be spendin' here. They said it's free!”
“Jolly right, brother,” said one of the men, not in the least inclined toward action.
“Not right!” Micah held their attention while Ferrel maneuvered in the crowd behind them.
“Whoof!” A man-shaped slab of solid muscle, assisted by a strategically-placed foot, crashed into the table. The table cracked and collapsed and scattered glasses and liquor about.
“Hey now!” While staggering back to avoid the splash Micah managed to slam into two others and douse a third with his ale.
“Watch yerself!”
The men at the table took exception to having their drinks spilled. They pulled the offending missile to his feet and heaped insults upon him. The men Micah jostled reacted similarly and before the bar's bouncer, a man far too small to handle the crowd tonight, arrived the punches started flying. Micah dodged one attacker drunkenly and guided him into an unsuspecting back.
The fight spread swiftly. Micah incited several patrons to fisticuffs without himself taking a punch. Inebriated and full of energy, the crowd started rumbling. Micah heard the barkeep yelling for order and then for the Brethren. He worked his way toward the door, starting several more brawls on the way.
The crowd outside still tried to work its way inward. Rumors flew faster than facts and Micah decided to add hydrogen to the reactor.
“He's a 'postate, he is,” burbled Micah truculently, “Said he's a Leaguer, he did!”
Someone nearby took offense to Micah's words. Micah left that rapidly-spreading fight for another part of the crowd. Before long he spotted what he expected. He raised his chrono and blipped Ferrel and Kidwell.
“Hold. HOLD, apostates!” Six Brethren waded into the crowd with stunclubs swinging. The constables cared little for being grossly outnumbered since a drunken fist held little opposition to a stunstick. Micah began evening the odds. He knocked the wind out of two careless Brethren when a third caught him.
“Peace, brother,” bellowed Micah as he deftly avoided the club, “I've done nothing!”
The Brother made a tactical mistake. He'd jolted several others before Micah but they didn't drop. Aided by the rest of the crowd they decided to vent their anger. They took the constable from behind.
The last three Brethren realized their situation and backed into a defensive posture. One of them signaled desperately for assistance. Micah worked on his escape as the crowd turned even nastier.
Micah didn't hear the charges detonate but he saw the smoke rolling out of the building. The crowd noise increased as frantic patrons inside tried to escape the perceived fire. The flames wouldn't spread, Micah planted the charges carefully, but the billows of smoke threatened exactly that.
With both a riot and a panic in full force Micah lost himself in the chaos and made for the rendezvous point. He found both Kidwell and Ferrel waiting. Ferrel nursed a bloody nose and a black eye.
“Vera?”
“Got it.” She indicated a box at her feet. “It's heavy, too. One of you will carry this for me. I grabbed two plus some sip size. They were there and we might find a use for 'em.”
Micah nodded. “Charlie?”
Ferrel fixed Micah with a gaze worthy of envy. “Next time you start the riot all by yourself, pucko. This is not amusing.”
Micah very carefully didn't smile. “Then let's get back and take care of it.”
Chapter 13. The Silken Sledgehammer
The riot rated a mention in the next day's newsmods. Not a large one since few Unitites considered incidents in lowtown newsworthy but a mention nonetheless. Micah and Ferrel spent most of the day observing Loglain's residence and its residents as closely as possible. They knew they'd be acting before long, just not when. Kidwell joined them before nightfall with interesting news.
“They've detected the C-group. It's well outside their last orbit but they know how fast it can be here. The crowds are starting to schism.” Kidwell smiled knowingly. “Some of the more moderate ones seem to think maybe the arrest wasn't a good idea. Even the extremists are splitting. Mostly after they got a look at the cruiser.”
Micah nodded. The Resolution-class cruiser's primary job was eliminating opposing forces in orbit and outward and then raining destruction and devastation on any enemies below orbit. They did their jobs well.
“Any other progress,” asked Micah.
“Militants and militant extremists want immediate attack along with execution of all League vermin on the planet.” Kidwell frowned at this. “I hope Ramsey's as good as his rep. It's a flaming hot kettle he's stirring. Any ideas about phase 2?”
“Getting in should be simple,” said Ferrel, “He's got a retscanner but it has an external access point. Not sure why he bothered.”
***
Loglain's manor showed some activity when the First arrived but it soon settled. Micah and Kidwell watched cautiously. Several guards made a sweep around the house, checked their comms and left. As dusk fell Micah saw a blur close by Loglain's door.
Around mid-evening the door opened and a disguised Loglain stepped out. Kidwell touched Micah's shoulder and started after the First. Not long afterward Micah's chrono vibrated.
“I'm in solid.” Ferrel's voice came from close to the doorway. “The lock is open and I've got the monitor on a feedback loop. You need to find the central station, though. I don't know if I found all the monitors. I'm also watching the kitchen, this entry, the common room and the library. I think there's a guardroom and a servant's room but they're not monitored. Burnit.”
“Polar. Main comm?”
“I own it!”
Micah moved as cautiously and as silently as a shadow as he swept the house. He located the monitors; when he waved at one Ferrel blipped him. He located two servants' rooms, one empty and the other not. The lady inside sipped tea and read her Writ as a holovee blared news.
The guardroom presented a problem. Micah saw the guard inside; if Ferrel hadn't neutralized the surveillance monitors Micah would never have reached the room, but he needed the guard gone. He could easily stun or kill the man but Micah didn't want to leave a trace. Not even a headache. He backed away and located a monitor. He pointed toward the guard, mimed a finger-snap beside his ear and pointed toward the common room. His chrono vibrated and he hid himself.
The guard left with his blaster drawn. Micah waited for him to pass and entered the guardroom. The guard had a thermaflask of tea and a cup already poured. Micah dropped a dose of Doze into the man's tea and several more into the flask. Not long after that the guard returned, face set in puzzlement. He checked his monitors and took a sip of tea.
Micah watched carefully. The guard started to nod, woke himself, then took a sip of tea to wake up. Before long he slept soundly. Micah motioned Ferrel in. Before long both of them sat in the guardroom with the sleeping guard. Ferrel shed his mercury suit with a sigh of relief.
“Give me a little time,” said Ferrel, “I'll own this whole house!”
Micah's chrono vibrated twice, paused, then twice again.
“That's trouble,” said Micah.
Ferrel looked at the now-dissected monitors and then at Micah.
“Finish here,” said Micah, “I'll take it.”
By Micah's calculation Loglain would be just over halfway to the bar. Loglain owned several vehicles but he would certainly recognize them. Micah pondered a moment and started down the street. More people than Loglain owned hovers and soon Micah had one. He wasted no time heading for Kidwell's last position.
A quick blip showed Kidwell's current position. Micah parked his stolen hover and left on foot. Knowing Loglain's ultimate destination and the best route there let Micah make good time.
He soon saw the problem. Two others followed either Loglain or Kidwell. They did a credible job following their quarry but they didn't keep in contact with each other. That suggested a plan.
Micah timed his approach so that he and the shadow would reach a turn after the others passed it. Micah stopped and tripped the man. The man caught himself short of a fall and turned an angry glare on Micah. Micah darted around the building and into an alley. The other man followed and met Micah's fist and fingers. Micah frisked the man quickly and took his wallet, badge, shoes and comm. The last item he ground into debris beneath his heel.
By the time Micah found Kidwell again Loglain had almost reached the bar. Micah trailed the second shadow and waited. He wanted to know what happened when Loglain reached his destination.
Loglain slouched against the building and gazed in disbelief at what lay before him. The bar was closed, of course, with several types of warning posted: fire safety and investigation, Brethren and 'Temporarily closed' by the owner. The man shadowing Loglain pointed something at him and fiddled with it. Holocaster!
Micah crept up behind the man and struck. Before the man could register surprise strong fingers choked the sound out of his throat and a hard, low blow to his back knocked the fight out of him. Micah dragged him deeper into the darkness, rendered him further unconscious and relieved him of his possessions.
***
Loglain walked slowly toward home with disbelief evident in each step. He barely maintained his disguise and Micah caught an occasional angry muttering. He signaled Kidwell to maintain surveillance and himself took a more direct route.
Back at Loglain's manor Ferrel had the maid and several other guards deeply unconscious.
“She made chog for the crew,” explained Ferrel, “I Dozed it. They all had a cup together and when it hit I gave 'em all some Blackout.”
Micah nodded. He suspected more but Ferrel kept quiet.
“Give me one of the small bottles,” said Micah, “Our First was in quite a state when I saw him last.”
Micah worked a long, thin needle past the bottle's stopper. He injected a hefty dose of Babble. They also had one of the larger bottles but Micah had plans for it.
***
Loglain walked straight to his study. Micah and Ferrel heard him muttering angrily all the while. Then he went to the fresher to wash off the last of his disguise. Micah and Ferrel sat waiting for him when he came back. Loglain settled into his desk, attention far away, when Micah spoke.
“Hello, brother.”
Startled, Loglain froze. Then he looked at a button.
“Don't,” advised Ferrel sharply, “That would not serve you. No one is here to help you, First.”
The blood drained from Loglain's face.
“Did you have a good walk, brother,” asked Micah harshly, “Was it refreshing?” Micah placed the badges he found in two wallets on Loglain's desk along with the holocaster. “Several friends were with you, brother. Would you care to see what they saw?”
Loglain's hands shook as he examined the badges and he absolutely wilted when he viewed the holos of himself.
“There... There is...” stammered Loglain.
“I'm certain there is an explanation, brother,” supplied Micah. He reached into his pocket, extracted the bottle and placed it before the cringing man. “Perhaps this will expedite matters. Refresh yourself, brother.”
“G... G'g...” Loglain mewled a wretched sound and made no move toward the bottle.
“I said refresh yourself, brother.” Micah removed the cork and slid the bottle closer. “We are well aware of your... Fondness.”
With eyes wide and bleary and his nose full of the liquor's sharp scent, Loglain took the bottle and finished half of it with one pull.
“That's better, brother,” said Ferrel gently, “Don't you agree?”
“These are sinful times,” said Micah, “The wretched are about us and the people are looking for direction.” Micah stared hard at Loglain. “More despicable, though, is a serpent in our midst. Do you not agree, brother?”
Loglain's face grew slack as the Babble took effect.
“What does he want now?” Loglain spoke with a whiny defiance mixed with desperation. “I've done what he asked. What now? What more?”
“What do you think, brother?” Micah shot Ferrel a quick glance. Interrogating under Babble was tricky business but any of their other
drugs would react badly to vinostim.
“I followed my instructions. Against all I believed I followed his orders. He said it was for the greater good. He said it was best. He said he'd keep... He'd keep...”
“Speak, brother,” barked Micah.
Loglain looked up. Suspicion now shaded his expression.
“We are here to help, brother,” said Ferrel, “You need not be alone. Some believe you are not past salvation.”
“Others are not convinced,” said Micah with ice in his voice, “Whose instructions do you follow, Loglain?”
“T-tollison,” whimpered Loglain, “Fourth Tollison, Order of...”
“Enough,” said Micah, “Speak facts!”
Loglain finished the small bottle.
“My instructions came from him. H-he presented me... He presented...”
“Evidence of your despicable acts,” suppled Micah. He held Loglain's eyes until the other dropped his stare. “What instructions were you given?”
With the second shot of Babble kicking in Loglain crumbled. He started gibbering. He finally mustered his frayed wits and began giving details. Micah had little use for most of the information but he recorded it for Ramsey.
At last, with Loglain and the bottle empty, Micah showed some sign of kindness.
“Very good, brother. Confession cleanses the soul. You may yet find redemption.”
Grateful tears trickled down Loglain's cheeks.
“Log into your terminal, brother,” said Ferrel.
“They will monitor it.”
“Then consider it part of your penance,” snapped Micah.
Loglain complied meekly. When he finished Ferrel produced the larger bottle.
“Be at peace, brother,” said Ferrel, “Your assistance will be taken into account.”
“Leave now,” ordered Micah coldly, “Do not speak of this. You will not be believed and you will find only woe and trouble.”
Defeated, Loglain took his bottle and slunk toward his bedroom.
“That,” said Kidwell, entering the study and locking the door behind her, “was rough. You have some bastard blood in you, Micah. I'm not sure I like you right now.”
