MARY SPENT THE day treading water, figuratively if not literally. Blimps had to be deflated, a wall finished. More people poured in; she closed down the chip fabrication plant, wrapped the sensitive gear in plastic, and opened the place to refugees. If there was a nook or cranny available, someone filled it. Du drove in late that night, wet and tired, trailing a bedraggled sky eye behind his rig.
The next morning dawned wet, rain coming down sidways. Mary surveyed her command from the factory roof; the perimeter wall was up, thank any God listening. The sod was back on it, for which she thanked the little priest, so the rain wasn’t washing the wall back into the ditch. She’d need that wall; already people huddled outside.
Dumont joined her, his poncho keeping most of him dry. “What you want from mine, Captain?”
That was something to think on. At breakfast, the Colonel had been withdrawn, introspective. If she’d had a battle to plan against a computer as complex and confused as this one appeared to be, she’d be doing a lot of thinking, too. That left her a simple, old-fashion problem; Defend the base on which they stand. Problem was, those weren’t armed-to-the-teeth bastards out there, trying to overrun her. She rolled her eyes to the gray sky, remembering the first time she’d met the Colonel. See the enemy, kill the enemy—war the good, old-fashion way.
But the people outside the fence were not enemies. She wasn’t sure what they were. Wet, hungry refugees? Maybe. Computer-driven zombies? Possibly. Believers, pushed and prodded by those they trusted? Quite likely. So what should she do with them? Feed them would be nice; shelter and care for them, even better. But that was not in the cards. She’d had Chief Barber check their stores; they had enough food for base personnel to last about a month. Encouraged by the padre, the refugees moving on base had turned their food over to central supply for credit chits specifically allotted to food; food was now more precious than copper. Still, they were just about keeping even with the one-month maximum. Everyone depended on the next crop. Right now, that next crop was getting very soggy. In too many places, it was getting trampled.
Before Kat left, she’d done a data search on food storage. This place had grain silos; it was supposed to be able to survive a crop failure in one part of the land. Facing crop failure all over, those silos were suddenly reported empty; hoarding had started early. A part of Mary figured she might as well shoot any problem refugees; at least that would save them from starving. She shivered at the thought.
“That bad,” Du said, calling her back, to where she stood on the rainswept roof of the factory.
“It could get that way.”
“What do you want from my team?” he asked her again.
“All the other marines command a hundred locals in riot gear. Your squad’s my only marine reserve.”
“We handle the shit too bad for the rest, huh?”
“Looks that way.”
“Anybody going outside?” Du nodded at the half-drowned land covered with ragged clumps of people.
“Don’t know. We got a staff meeting at oh-eight-hundred. Want to come?”
“Got to be more interesting than standing around in this stuff,” Du grouched, “but not by much, I bet.”
Mary laughed; Du was usually good for a laugh, except when she wanted to throttle him. They headed for the HQ. It was a pretty full room Mary entered, but she’d expected that; this was probably the last time they’d get together before whatever was about to break out started chewing up their fannies. Barber was there, along with the chief running personnel, sitting along the wall. Cassie sat between them; Dumont joined them. Harry and Jeff had taken the foot of the table. Doc was at Ray’s right hand, the priest next to him. An empty seat awaited Mary at the Colonel’s left. Lek was next to her.
Twelve holograms stood patiently on the battle board.
“We’ll make this quick. Right after this I meet with San Paulo and company. Mary, join me for that one.”
“Yes, sir. Barber, you’re with me.”
The old chief groaned from his chair against the wall. “Won’t get much work done. Thank God for good storekeepers.”
Ray actually cracked a sliver of a smile at that ancient joke, then turned to Dumont. “You got the three local girls back to their families last night?”
“Not quite, sir,” Dumont said, coming to stiff attention. Jeff looked like he wanted to crawl under the table.
“What does that mean, Sergeant?”
“Two out of three ain’t bad, sir. The blimp couldn’t land, sir, so we were chasing a basket it was towing behind it. Pushing the mule flat ass for hell, sir. In the process of passing the box into the basket, somehow Nikki Mulroney managed to scramble in also.”
“What was she doing in the mule, anyway?”
Dumont looked pained. “I don’t know, sir. We were kind of short on time and maybe not as organized as we should have been.”
“Kat didn’t have the blimp make a go-around and drop her back in your lap?” the Colonel growled.
“Nikki persuaded Kat they really needed her to operate the vanishing box,” Jeff cut in. “The little brat can be quite persuasive when she wants to be, Annie says, and the wind really wouldn’t permit a go-around.”
The Colonel paused, weighing one girl’s personal tragedy against a planet’s, then shrugged. “We’ll trust Kat to bring her back.” He turned to Mary. “Can you hold the base perimeter?”
“I expect so, sir. We’ve got the locals in riot gear. We’ve got the marines. If things get too bad, we’ve got tear gas and pepper bombs, but they’re last resorts. Only my marines have protective gear for that.”
“Understood. Supplies?”
“Not an immediate worry, sir,” Mary evaded. The Colonel seemed to weigh both what she’d said and not said, then pass it by. “Dean, how are things going on your side?”
“Not much happening. The President and Provost are going at each other, I guess, and ignoring us.”
“You guess. You don’t know?”
“We’re kind of isolated on your side of the line and rather occupied keeping other access routes blocked.”
Mary stared at the holograms. She still had problems thinking of them as representing entities more powerful than any computer she’d ever seen. Get used to it, girl.
“Dancer, you hiding here, too?” the Colonel chided.
“Wouldn’t want to show them guys how to penetrate your little hideaway,” the cheeky computer responded.
“I should think Lek and you could find a way out. Lek, we still have access to the net in Refuge?”
“Yep, sir,” Mary’s oldest friend drawled.
“Then maybe we could boost Dancer over the wall and into their court. It would be nice to know what those two are up to. Dean, have you decided which of them you want to win?’
“Neither,” the tweed-clad image answered.
“Consider, they’re fighting each other. As soon as one wins, it will come after us. Which do you want to tackle then?”
That put the computer images into a huddle. Mary watched the clock; three minutes passed before the Dean took a step away from his associates. “We can’t arrive at a consensus, but eight of us agree we want the Provost dead first.”
“Dancer, could you identify some physical areas the Provost can least afford to lose?”
“Yeah, no problem. What you got in mind?”
“Harry took out the main link into here yesterday. If we send him out again, he could take out a few nodes here and there. Surprise the Provost.”
“Maybe the Pres would appreciate the help?” the Dean mused hopefully.
“‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’ has long been a saying among us humans. Given the chance, maybe the President will learn the wisdom in that,” the Colonel admitted.
“But what if the Provost wins?” another holo image demanded. “Where will that put us?”
“No worse off than before. We’ll still have weakened the Provost in the preliminary round. Less to fight in the main one,” the Colonel pointed out.
There seemed to be general agreement on that among the holograms. “Let’s get cracking,” Net Dancer said. Lek headed out the door; shortly after, Dancer disappeared from the display. Ray turned his attention to Harry. “Up to another run?”
“No problem. Who can you lend me?”
“Mary?” Ray said, passing her the problem.
The captain scowled. “Boss, anyone outside ain’t inside keeping the outside out.” That got a few smiles. “I guess I lend him the two marines he had yesterday. I keep Cassie.”
“Three’s a mighty small team,” Ray countered.
“I’ll go with Harry,” Jeff put in. “My hands are healing fine. I think Old Ned will join me, too.”
“This kid’s officer material,” the Colonel joked. “He’s learned to volunteer other people. Okay, five it is then.”
“Have you decided what kind of attack you can launch when the time comes?” the Dean asked in the silence that followed Harry and Jeff’s leaving.
“I’m still thinking about it” was all the Colonel said. “Thank you for your time. I’m about due for my next meeting.”
Most filed out. Mary stayed in her seat, as did Doc and the padre. Chief Barber moved up to the table as a yeoman led Ms. San Paulo and her staff in. The Colonel introduced the Dean and his ten present associates. San Paulo ignored them; Ray made no attempt to change that. “What can we do about the food situation?” he said to begin the meeting.
“You’ll have to feed all these people you turned into refugees,” she countered.
“You have control of the food reserves.”
“The landers wanted a market economy. Farmers are free to set their own prices.”
“And what’s stored in the silos—”
“Is privately owned. They may dispose of it as they choose.”
“Charge all the market will bear,” Mary growled.
“I’m certain the situation will resolve itself. Left to itself, the market always does,” San Paulo insisted.
“How many people are you willing to let starve?”
“No one will starve,” San Paulo said with absolute certainty.
Ray tapped the board, bringing up the weather picture. A fifth hurricane was forming behind the four headed their way. “The first storm will come ashore just south of Refuge tomorrow. Then one every three days. There won’t be a next crop.”
San Paulo looked at the board, frowned at it, then shook her head. “That’s impossible. Hurricanes do not behave like that. That’s just another one of your computer tricks.”
Ray shook his head. “Ms. San Paulo, we will continue to care for Rose. You are welcome to stay here as our guest. But if you will not cooperate with us in the problems we now have, I believe this meeting is over.”
“I must serve my people, look out for their welfare,” she started.
Ray cut her off. “Outside the base, but not on it. Here, the people are under my protection. They are at present organized and satisfied with that arrangement. Is that right, Father?”
The priest nodded.
“What would you expect from a priest? You feed him,” one of San Paulo’s staff muttered.
“I don’t have time for you to poll them,” the Colonel shot back. “Stay in the quarters assigned you, or leave. If you won’t help us, I can’t afford for you to cause me trouble.”
At that the Colonel stood and left; Mary led the rest out. Poor Father Joseph watched them go, glanced at San Paulo’s group, then joined Mary. She held her troops for a second in the work bay. “You’ve got your orders. Make ’em happen.”
The others left; the doc and the padre remained. “Mary, I’m worried about the Colonel and the kids,” the doc started.
“My office,” Mary cut him off as the first of San Paulo’s cronies nosed around the door. A moment later, door closed, Mary motioned the two to chairs, then leaned against the front of her desk. “What about the Colonel and the kids?”
“I think he plans to use them in some kind of attack on the computer,” the doc said. “They were with him and a stone when the Gardener died.”
“I know. I saw the kids shortly after it happened,” Mary answered. “He looked a lot worse than the kids.”
“Right. Something had healed his back. He should have looked bad. Still, using the kids in a fight!”
“Father”—Mary turned to the grandfather of one of them—“what do you think?”
“Like so much of what is going on around here, I don’t know what to think. I do know that unless we get sun, lots of it real soon, a lot of people will be very hungry. If David can somehow help…” He trailed off.
“What chance could the Colonel and a couple of kids have against that?” The doc waved toward the conference room, whether at the storms or the allied computers or fighting ones, Mary didn’t need a clarification. All of them looked too much to her.
She stood; centuries of breeding brought the men to their feet. Or maybe it was the command presence of a marine officer. Mary wasn’t sure, just glad of it. “We’ve got a day’s work cut out for us. Let’s take it one step at a time. Padre, will you accompany me on a walk around?”
Mary scrounged up a poncho, which on the priest dragged the ground. For the rest of the morning, they walked the base. They stopped to talk with the troops mustered on the wall, enduring wind and rain to keep an eye on the growing crowd outside. They passed through all the living quarters, saying a kind word to worried grande dames and little children. Mary included the padre in her stops around the base’s functions run by the crew of Second Chance. His heartfelt thanks to Ray’s crew was probably the best morale boost she could have hoped for. Here was one of the locals, thanking the crew for what they were doing. Thanking them for the risks they were taking.
There was no way for the padre to know what Mary did. That the crew had no more choice of being here than he did. Until Matt found a way home, they were all in this together. Still, it would have been easy to build a wall between us and them. The priest helped Mary keep that wall low, toss away the stones that could have built it higher.
Early on, Jeff and Harry said their good-byes, heading out the north gate. The mule towed a trailer full of explosives, laser cutters, and batteries with three horses following it. God help them, never had a smaller David taken on a bigger Goliath.
Jeff held his rifle tight as the young marine driving zipped out the gate and gunned the mule, wagon, horses, and all out across the field, dodging first left, then right to avoid small clumps of people rushing their way. “You know, Zed,” the older marine in the back drawled, “you flip that trailer over and none of us will be worrying about meeting anyone anymore.”
“Lil, I’m the one driving and I ain’t wrecked a heap yet.”
“Before last year, you’d never wheeled a heap legal.”
“When it’s hot, you sure don’t drive it like an old lady.”
Jeff and Harry exchanged glances, neither sure exactly what was being said. Jeff strongly suspected he’d be happier not knowing. Ned just leaned back, enjoying the ride. Two hours later, they’d avoided all problems, and had the present small valley they were crossing all to themselves and a flock of six-legged things that ignored humans and vice versa. “I’m getting a message from Lek!” Jeff hollered. “Zed, could we take a break?”
“Braking!” the kid hollered, and skidded to a halt that fish-tailed the mule’s rear and the trailer behind.
“Zed, I’m gonna turn those nanos loose on your head.”
“Wouldn’t find nothing?
“He didn’t drive that way yesterday,” Harry pointed out.
“Wouldn’t dare; Cassie’d hauled his ass off to church,” Lil laughed.
“Just having some fun,” the kid defended himself.
Jeff studied the map Lek fed to the mule’s display. “Dancer says the two are fighting it out up the James River, with flanks seventy miles on either side,” Lek told them as the screen showed a large blob of pink in front of them. Blue was on the far side. Both spread north and south of the James. “Dancer figures the Pres was outmaneuvered. He’ll take the worst hits from the hurricanes unless he gets inland fast. Any places we can disrupt the Provost?”
Harry overlaid his geology data on the display, “Several rocky outcroppings close to us.” He highlighted four. “Does Dancer have a preference?”
There was a short pause. “Dancer has no idea. Hit a few. He’ll let us know what happens.”
“Great targeting system we got here,” Zed growled.
“Best we got is always great,” Lil said cheerfully.
“What’s that?” Zed shouted, pointing behind them.
Jeff turned, just in time to see the tarp on the trailer move. He leveled his gun. “Who’s there?” he demanded.
“Just me,” came a very familiar voice. The tarp raised; Annie stared at his gun. “Could you point that somewhere else?”
“Annie,” Jeff safetied his rifle as Lil and Harry leaped out to help Annie. Jeff got there just in time to put his arms around her and help her over the trailer’s side. She was very holdable. “Damn it, woman, what are you doing here? Can’t any Mulroney woman stay where she belongs?”
“If Mulroney women had stayed home, there wouldn’t be any Mulroney men on this planet,” she shot back. “I heard you griping there weren’t enough on this team. I have two hands.”
“You should have asked,” Jeff cried.
“And you’d have said no,” she answered primly, looking around, taking a poll of those present, “Wouldn’t he?”
“Boys what think they’re in love do crazy things,” Lil answered. “Let’s roll.”
Jeff took his seat up front, rifle handy. Annie squeezed in the back between Lil and Harry. As Zed got them moving, Jeff relented. “There’s more room in front.” In a flash of hiked-up skirts and revealed legs, Annie was over the seat and settling down beside Jeff in a second.
“There’s plenty of room close to me,” Zed pointed out, patting the seat next to him.
Jeff pulled Annie close. “Why’d you do it?” he whispered.
“I’ve missed you for the last month. I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”
Jeff kissed her. Sometime later, Old Ned coughed. “Son, I don’t mind keeping an eye out your side of this rig, but the girl’s got to breathe.” The others laughed. It was contagious. Annie and he ended up laughing, which made kissing rather difficult. He settled for holding Annie in his arms, her snuggled close to his left side, his rifle on his right. This had to be the craziest way any man had ever gone traveling.
So what? Annie was with him. No matter what happened, Annie was with him.
Nikki shivered as the blimp shook, playing mouse to a big cat of a wind. The gondola twisted, its skin showing long cracks that let in streams of water. Nikki was hungry but afraid to eat; her tummy had emptied itself violently yesterday. Today it dared her to put anything in it but water. She was miserable.
Beside Nikki, Kat unstrapped from her seat and came to kneel beside her, holding on tight to both chairs. “You okay?”
“No, this was another dumb idea.” Nikki groaned.
“Yes, it was,” the young woman agreed, as she rearranged Nikki’s blankets to make her more comfortable. “You want something to drink?”
The blimp’s engines revved, responding to the pilot’s demands. They climbed higher. Kat glanced at the flight deck. “Wonder what Rhynia’s trying now.”
As if in reply, there was a shouted “Yes” from up forward. The blimp settled down as much as it had in the last three days and seemed to steady on course. The engines slowed to idle. In a few minutes, Rhynia came back to talk to her passengers and the off-duty mechanics. “We had a bad time there, but I think it’s over. I got a bit too far out on hurricane number one and ran into crosswinds where it and number two were thumping each other,” she grinned. “No place for a self-respecting blimp.”
“Will it happen again?” Nikki ventured.
“Not if I can help it.” The blimp shivered. Everyone looked up at the gas bag. Nikki wondered if they were leaking hydrogen out like the gondola was leaking water in. “We’re picking up speed,” the pilot said, “but we’re behind schedule. May take us an extra day to get to that mountain range on North Continent.”
“I’ll call that in,” Kat said.
Ray listened to Kat’s report. Part of him wanted to recall that team; he snorted at the idea. He could no more recall them than change anything he’d done with his life thus far. They would succeed or crash into the ocean with no help from him. The same with Harry and Jeff. He’d launched them into this impossible battle more on hope than expectation of victory. Mary had broken his back the last time he’d charged in with hardly a shred of intel. At least then he’d been fighting humans. Now!
Now he waited, his paltry forces in play. He had one more card to try, but that would have to wait. Wait to see what developed from the other side. Wait to see if any of his assaults were even noticed by the computers.
Wait. A familiar word in any commander’s vocabulary.
Wait. Ray hated it, even as he hunkered down and did it.
Mary paused for a moment on the roof of the factory building to take a deep breath. It smelled of rain and chill and mud. A hundred feet up, she had the best view of the base. To the west lay the landing strip, filling rapidly with parked wagons and carts, canvas covers over them, tarps stretched between them to add some shelter from the rain for more and more people. Little kids chased each other, splashing through puddles. Their elders stared up at the weeping sky and worried.
The factory beneath her and the shuttle hangar off in the far right distance beyond the hospital, barracks, and HQ, had the best vantage points to see what was going on around the base perimeter—and inside. She turned to Dumont. “Sergeant, I want half your squad here, the other half on the shuttle hangar.”
Du measured the distance to the wall with a jaundiced eye. “A thousand meters at best. No sleepy bullets from here.”
“Don’t have that many left. I’m issuing what I got to the rifles leading the riot troops, and only fifty per. When they’re gone, it’s live ammo only.”
Du answered with a low whistle. “Lots of people out there. What we gonna do with them all?”
“I sent the priest out to circulate a map of where the safe elevations are. Suggest they go elsewhere.”
“Do any good?”
“Padre came back with the Bishop of Refuge, asked me to let him and his chancellery officials in,” Mary sighed.
“And?”
“I let them in. I owe that little priest. If he hadn’t suggested saving the turf and rolling it back over the wall, we wouldn’t be patrolling it tomorrow, we’d be wading through it. Yeah, I let them in. Trying to find something for them to do, but they’re about as willing to work as San Paulo and her cronies. Holy horror that they should take a turn in riot gear.”
“What did you want me and my crew to do up here?”
“If someone out there with an airgun starts popping our folks, I want you to take them down. Clean, exact.”
“We can do that.”
“And if everything comes apart and a mob charges the wall, I want you and your sharpshooters to take down the leaders. Single shots. One round, one leader.”
Dumont took that one in without a blink. “That may be harder than it sounds. A lot of folks up front may just be passing through. Real leader may be a few rows back.”
“I know. If you can spot a leader, put ‘im down. If not, start at the front and work your way back.”
Du knelt on the building’s ledge to sight his rifle along the perimeter. “They get too close, Captain, I can’t get over the heads of the troops on the wall.”
“I know.”
“Who gives the order to start shooting?”
“I do,” Mary snapped. The look Du gave her said he could do the math as well as she. “But there’s a lot of wall, and it may get busy. A ruckus on the east wall, while I’m knocking heads on the west.”
“So I may have to make the call,” Du filled in.
“Afraid so.”
“Growl,” he said.
“I’m worried about Cassie. She may have lost her edge, gone gentle on us,” Mary said of her oldest friend.
“The war changed us all,” Du offered with the grin of an innocent kid the streets had never let him be.
“Not you and me, bucko.” Mary grinned back.
“Yes, you and me, sister. Remember, this isn’t war. We’re supposed to be keeping the peace here, not shattering heads.”
Mary looked out over the wall. Really looked from face to face, trying to see them as people, not one large milling crowd. “They are people, now. But Du, crowds don’t stay people. Let them become a mob and it won’t be people you’ll be shooting.”
Du joined her, studying the refugees. “They’re hungry, cold, tired, scared. A week ago they ran trains, sold stuff, went home to dinner, and tucked their kids into bed. Now the kids are clinging to them, hungry, cold, and whining. And because they may turn into an unthinking, killing mob tonight or tomorrow night, I’ll put a needle between their eyes.” He turned to Mary. “Can’t you make it so I don’t have to?”
“The Colonel’s trying. You heard him this morning. He’s trying everything he knows how to do.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I’ll pull the trigger when I have to. We’re trying for something better.”
Mary rested a hand on Du’s shoulder. “And we’ll keep trying. I wish I could pray. I’d say every prayer I knew that the Colonel finds a way.”
“Same for me,” Du answered. “You see the little priest, tell him for me he better start praying, Praying a lot.”
The sky was leaden, robbing the surrounding hills of color. The rain smelted faintly of salt, and might have been warm once. Jeff both shivered and sweated as he poured charges in the holes Harry drilled. Lil had designed a daisy chain that should convert this seam of rock into one big gravelbed.
“Think computer nanos could climb out of one of those holes and chew the metal out of my bones?” Zed called to Lil.
“Hell, Zed, there ain’t enough metal in your backbone to attract a nano, no matter how starved it be.” Both laughed, though Zed’s seemed a bit forced.
When Lil lit the fire line, explosions walked down the hillside, sending up the upper area first, encouraging it to just keep sliding as it came down. It looked beautiful—from the next ridge over. Jeff would hate to be under something like that. Zed had the mule moving before the rocks quit falling.
The next stop was a long shelf of rock jutting up from rolling farmland. People in the distance walked drearily up roads. Jeff was pouring charges when Lek called. “Dancer says Prov’s right wing is weakening. Pres pushed him back several klicks. Dancer says keep up the good work.”
“Only too happy to help,” Harry answered as he drilled. It took them another hour to reach the end of the rockbed. They waved Annie to bring the mule and pick them up.
She didn’t. After a few minutes of her head under the steering wheel, she started waving frantically. Laden with drills, they hustled for her.
“It won’t start!” Annie shouted as they came close.
All six spent the next half hour trying to get the mule started. Nothing worked. “This thing got a computer?” Harry asked. Zed nodded. “Think it could have a nano in it?”
“Oh, shit,” the marines groaned.
Jeff called the situation in to Lek. “Should have thought of that.” With Lek’s guidance they disconnected the mule’s computer. “It’ll be a bitch to drive, but you can. Problem is the solar cells won’t charge the battery. I could work around it, but you don’t have the tools to do it.”
“We got enough juice to hobble home?” Zed asked.
“Almost but not quite” was Lek’s somewhat delayed answer.
“We aren’t going home,” Jeff said. “We got two more rockbeds to hash.” The others looked at him. Harry nodded first. Slowly the others joined in.
“I guess we did come to this little war to fight, not run,” Zed finally muttered.
Jeff took the wheel, moving the mule slowly away from the soon-to-be gravelbed. He studied the ground to the north, where their next target lay, and selected the gentlest path he could see. He didn’t slow when Lil set off the charges; it took energy to start up again. Jeff measured the map against the sinking hand of his battery readout. They could make the next rock, maybe halfway to the fourth. Then they walked.
“I’ve taken you about as far as this gas bag is gonna fly!” Rhynia shouted to Kat over the roar of the wind whistling through the holes in the gondola’s skin. “If you’re not in range of those mountains, I’m afraid you’ll have to walk.”
Nikki wrapped herself tighter in her blanket. It was cold up here, five thousand feet above sea level. Still, the glistening white mountains seemed forever away.
“Now comes the hard part,” the pilot continued. “We got a tailwind pushing us along at thirty, forty knots. I got a bag leaking hydrogen from so many holes my mechanic gave up counting. My rudder quit days ago and I’ve been maneuvering with the engines, but one of them just died. With all the loose hydrogen, none of my people wants to tinker with it. So we’ll drop ropes from the cabin doors. Go down them, but hit the ground running like mad.”
Laden with food, a blanket slung over her shoulder, Nikki was lowered out the door. Kat went out the other door, vanishing box on her back. Nikki hit the ground, bounced back in the air as the blimp wobbled in flight, went down again, and fell. Nikki rolled onto her back and let the pack hit the rocks until the rope snapped. She tried not to cry, but she hurt everywhere. Kat bounced back into the air as the blimp rose, cut herself free, and fell. She hit, rolled, bounced up, then fell again as her leg folded under her.
Stifling her own tears, Nikki struggled over to Kat. The starwoman sat, cradling her ankle, but her eyes were locked on the blimp. The four mechanics and the copilot dropped hand-over-hand down the trailing ropes. The blimp careened from one gust of wind to another. The five dropped as if by a single hand; the blimp was a mile away when they hit the ground.
Quickly, a lone dot started down one rope. Nikki sucked in her breath…blue flame flickered around the engine that had quit working. The fire danced in the wake of the blimp for a second, then created a sheen all around the large gas bag. A split second later, the entire bag was one large yellow fire, falling faster than the pilot could go down the rope.
The crew were running for the burning blimp before it hit the ground. Still, it engulfed Rhynia in middrop. Nikki stuffed her fist in her mouth, bit back her scream. “If only Daga and I had never opened the box. If only we hadn’t made the mountain disappear.”
“Then the Colonel wouldn’t have the box to make those mountains disappear,” Kat said, nodding toward the beautiful white ramparts. “The computers were already headed south when we got here, when you and Daga opened that box. All this was gonna happen, Nikki. The only question was: Could we fight back? We’ve got the box,” she said, tapping the pack on her back. “Maybe we’ve got a fighting chance. That’s what Rhynia died for. Now we’ve got to make it happen.”
Kat struggled to her feet, or foot. Nikki offered her a shoulder to lean on; Kat used it for support as they hobbled toward the skeleton of the blimp. The fire was dying out; only the carbon composite framework still smoldered. The mechanics and the copilot stood watching. The seven of them stared at the wreckage; somewhere under it was the body of their pilot. “Let’s open that damn box and show those bloody computers what happens when you mess with a blimp crew,” the copilot said through tears.
“Think we’re close enough?” Nikki asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Kat said.
Nikki felt one corner, found the spot, and pressed it. A small crack appeared around the middle, just as it had the first time. She probed the other end; a second catch let go.
The box didn’t open. They used their fingers. They tried knives. Nothing would, pry the lid up.
“We’ve come all this way, and it’s a dud!” a mech cried.
Ray took Kat’s call; she spat it out fast. The blimp was wrecked; the box wouldn’t work. Like a good commander, he spoke the calming words he knew he had to, that they expected of him.
Inside, he was crumbling.
“Lek,” he ordered, “check with Dancer. Are any of our computer friends familiar with the damn box?”
Lek was back far too quickly. “Sir, some of them might know about it, but they didn’t bring that data south with them. It’s locked away somewhere in those mountains.”
Ray allowed himself a moan. “To get there from here, you got to be there first. Kat, afraid you’re on your own. See if Nikki remembers anything more about the day they fired it off.”
“Will do, sir. Uh, we haven’t heard anything for a while. Does hitting this thing’s physical side do any good?”
“Harry’s but blowing rock piles. It’s helping,” Ray said, trying to jack up hope without adding more pressure.
“Then we’ll make this thing work, sir. Count on us.”
“I know I can.” Ray tapped off, wondering if a barely teenage girl could find a way to open the damn box. Trying not to wonder if the box came with only so many shots, and it was all used up.
It was raining hard; the wind lashed them. Jeff figured the first hurricane must be hitting Refuge. He hadn’t looked at Harry’s overlay to see how high the fourth or fifth hurricane would get. After they blew the next rockbed they’d head inland.
There were now three on each team. Harry drilled. Jeff poured explosives. Annie was halfway back with the spare horse and another load of the starman’s best boom stuff. His commlink came alive. He listened, then shouted at Harry, “Dancer says the Pres is edging around the Provost! Using the weak spots we’ve created to hit him on two sides, not just one!”
“Good physics. Exert pressure on the full surface of the medium,” Harry answered, pausing in his drilling to wipe rain from his face. “Hope the damn computer is obliged for our help.”
Annie led the horse up the gentle slope toward him. Clothes dripping, hair bedraggled, her face still lit up in a beautiful smile as she approached Jeff. He leaned forward to kiss her. She accepted it, then broke away far too soon to hand him the loaded horse’s reins and take his now unburdened one.
“How much farther?”
Jeff pointed. “Maybe another thirty holes.”
“One more load,” she estimated. “Lil wants one more, too,” she said, leading the horse downhill.
“You could ride it, you know,” Jeff called after her.
“The poor thing’s exhausted. And won’t we be needing it to carry all we’ve got to the last rock? I can walk.”
“Ow!” came from uphill. “That hurts!” Zed shouted.
“What hurts?” Lil called from where she poured explosives.
“I don’t know. I got this rash on my hands.”
Jeff eyed Harry. “You got one, too?”
“A bit. Nothing to worry about. This damn drill is blowing hot rock all around. Bound to irritate a guy’s skin.” Jeff ignored the holes he needed to fill, stepped off the distance to his old friend, reached for his hands.
“Don’t touch me,” Harry cut him off. “If I’ve got nanites, you don’t want them. You stuff holes. Apparently it hasn’t figured out that’s as dangerous as the drilling.”
“Harry!”
“Don’t Harry me. If we have to, you’ll drill when I can’t. Right now I still can. Stuff those holes, kid.”
Jeff swallowed, He couldn’t argue with Harry. Hell, Harry had won every argument they’d ever had. Still. “I can’t just stand here and let whatever’s happening…”
“Whatever’s happening is happening. You got a magic wand that’ll change these damn computers, wave it. For now, we suffer whatever they think to pass along to us. Let’s get a move on. It’s learning too damn fast for my liking. Besides, maybe if we put the Provost out of business, the Pres won’t know what to do with the nanos I’ve picked up. Move, kid.”
Jeff moved.
Nikki tried to think. Daga would know. Oh, God, how she wanted to talk to Daga. Daga always made her laugh, no matter what trouble she was in. Nikki wanted to laugh, to make all the troubles go away. Ma said you had to take care of yourself, that you were responsible for what you did. A baby wasn’t. A woman was. What do you want to be, a baby or a woman?
At the moment, Nikki would very much like to be a baby, a cute little bundle that people were always glad to take care of.
But babies didn’t make messes like she had.
Nikki walked slowly around the box. It wouldn’t open. Why not? They’d pushed the places that opened it that time on the hill. Nikki tried to remember what it had been like surrounded by her friends. A warm summer day. Getting warmer. The sun had seemed close enough to touch. Here, high in the foothills of the mountains that raised like a white wall ahead of them, it was so cold Nikki kept a blanket wrapped around herself.
Nikki touched the box. It was cold. Not freezing cold, but cool. Like it had been when she and Daga first picked it up. “Help me close the lid.” Two mechanics leaned on it. The lid slid down the fraction of an inch. There wasn’t even a click as the tiny crack around the midsection disappeared.
“What are you thinking?” Kat asked.
“It was cold when we started walking. Daga found it in a cave. Then the morning sun warmed it. I remember it felt pleasantly warm when I touched it. When it opened.”
Kat nodded. “I’ve had it wrapped in that backpack since we got it. Let’s leave it out in the sun for a while.”
Nikki looked up. Thin clouds obscured the sun, leaving her chilled. How much sun did the vanishing box need?
Mary prowled the wall. For the riot police, she had good words. For her marines leading them, she urged caution. “We’ve got all the firepower we need. No need to flash it around. See over there on the factory. That’s Du and his sharpshooters. Anyone takes a potshot at you, they’ll get ‘im.”
For herself, she had nothing. What she wanted to do was stand on the ramparts and scream at the people to go away. We have nothing for you. We’re just as destitute as you. There’s plenty of land that won’t be flooded. Why stay around here? She didn’t. She knew better.
Inside they had food, though the servings were already pretty skimpy. They had shelter against the rain and cold, though the sewers were already backing up. They had leaders to help them believe that somehow this would all come out right. Strange, Mary never considered herself a little ray of hope. Still, that was what she saw in the eyes of the wall details as she talked to them and from the grandmothers as she circulated around the living quarters.
And that was what she felt around the Colonel. Somehow he would fix this. Even as she felt it, she knew it was half dream, half wish. Hell, she’d damn near killed him once. What made her now want to root for him, believe in him while he took on something so much bigger than she and her tiny platoon? She guessed that was what you called leadership.
Mary’s eyes wandered over the crowd huddled in the rain outside the wall. Do you have a leader? Is there someone giving you hope? Outside, a fight broke out. People stepped back, made a hole for the two fighting men. A big man pummeled another hardly half his size.
“Stop that!” Mary shouted. “You out there, stop them!”
Eyes with no purpose looked up empty at her. The bigger man smashed the smaller down into the mud. Took something off him and stomped away, leaving the other bleeding into a reddening puddle. No one did anything.
Purpose. Meaning. Order. Leadership. That was what Mary gave those beside her on the wall. “That’s why you’re here,” she snapped to the troops around her. “To keep that shit out there away from your families. Any questions?” There was none.
Mary continued her inspection of the troops on the wall as the unseen sun slipped lower in the sky.
Ray sat with the kids while the doc gave them a thorough going-over. “You draft these kids into your war, they sure as hell get a physical. You, too, Colonel. You’re transferring from a desk to a whatever it is you think you’re gonna do, I want to have a good look at you.”
Ray went along, partially to keep the doc happy, partially to spend time with the kids, but mainly because he had nothing else to do. He’d played nearly every card he had. He would not lay the last one down ahead of time. Whether this would be another Roarkes Drift or Alamo would be clear soon enough.
The kids were quiet— no racing around, no shouting. They sat in the clinic’s chairs playing finger games.
“My mommy doesn’t say anything,” Rose told the boys.
“My grandda is so worried,” David gave back. “I wish it would stop raining.”
“My ma and da take turns putting on those silly things and standing out in the rain on the wall,” Jon offered. “I think they’d rather go home.”
Slowly Ray tried to explain what was happening. He drew blank stares from the kids. “A com-uter? Is that like an ogre?” Jon asked.
“Something like one,” Ray admitted. “And it is blowing the rain and weather at us,” he improvised.
Jon and David blew as hard as they could. “It must be very big,” Rose concluded.
Gently, as he might his own child, in images more than truths, Ray told the kids what he wanted them to do. “Like in the cave?” Rose said. “But that was a nice old man,” David pointed out. “And I liked him,” Jon insisted.
“This time it may be different. I’ll need you to do what I do, say what I say. And keep saying it, even if I start saying other things. Could you do that for me?”
All three children slowly nodded their heads. “My grandda likes you.” “So does my da and ma.” “I think my mommy would like that.” Rose was the last, and maybe the only doubtful one. “Are you sure it’s an ogre?” she insisted.
“Very much like one,” Ray said, rising to go.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” the doc whispered angrily as Ray passed him at the door.
“So do I, Jerry, So do I.”
Ray’s commlink buzzed as he walked down the hall, reflecting on the children’s view of things. It was Kat. “Sir, I think we’ve got the vanishing box charged. It’s late up here, and I doubt we’ll get another shot before dark. Have our priorities changed since we left? Should we wait until tomorrow?”
“Damned-if-I-know” was not an acceptable answer. The Pres’s capacity to scramble their DNA had been the number one priority when Kat launched. At the moment, the Provost’s nanos were eating Harry and Zed alive; taking out a major chunk of his resources might help them. But taking out any northern target now might give both of them a night to reflect. Might they come up with a counter, a defense, a workaround?
Dithering was not a command quality Ray approved of. “Lek, ask Dancer where the President’s DNA scrambler is.” Of all his computer allies, Dancer was the only one he trusted. Of course, he was also the one who’d set them up for the hurricanes.
“Boss, I think I got some good scoop from Dancer.” Ray’s wrist unit showed a tiny map of Norm Continent, zooming down to the towering range that separated plush south half from arid north. Ray passed the map through to Kat. “That one,” he said.
“Sir, that’s target twelve, the lowest priority. You trust the data?” Kat asked, the skeptical analyst to the end.
“It’s the best we got, Midshipman. Execute your attack.”
“Stand by.”
Ray flipped on his poncho and began to cross between hospital and HQ. Up north, his orders were being carried Out. A mountain was being reduced to dust, maybe even the right one. “Mountain’s gone, sir. Tomorrow I’ll start at target number one and work down the list unless I hear different from you. Maybe I can get one more off tonight, but I doubt it.”
“Thanks, Kat. I strongly suspect we needed that.”
Kat signed off. Ray asked Lek to check with Dancer about the effect of the latest assault as he trudged to the HQ. It was near dinnertime, but Ray wasn’t hungry. He went past his office to his quarters and stretched out on the bed. Maybe he’d sleep. Maybe he’d have a second chance to talk with the President and/or Provost. Maybe he could yet negotiate his way out of this.
The mule died halfway to the last rockbed. “Harry,” Jeff suggested, “why don’t you and Zed stay here. Maybe, once we’ve taken out the Proctor, whatever killed our mule will let it go.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Lil agreed.
“You’re both lying bastards,” Zed snapped. “The mule is hosed, and it’s gonna stay hosed no matter who wins.” But he was grimacing through the pain even as he grouched.
Zed and Harry stayed in the mule while Jeff and Lil selected the best-working of the two drills; they’d lug only one. The horses would carry as much explosives as possible. Lil pulled the battery out of the chosen drill, replaced it with a fresh one. “That’ll do us.”
“Travel light,” Jeff said. “I’ll do the drilling.”
“Kid, don’t tell an old miner how to do her business,” the woman snapped, rummaging through the first-aid kit. “This is the spray we put on your hands last night. Puts a layer of plastic over ’em. I’ll use this before I drill.” She glanced back at the mule. “That rash on Zed don’t look more than skin deep. This ought to hold them nanos long enough for me to get the job done.”
Annie joined them, lost under a spare poncho. “What you doing?” Jeff demanded.
“Someone has to lead the third horse.”
“Ned can do it.”
“He’s taking care of Harry and Zed.”
“Then I’ll lead both of them. You stay here.”
“Listen, Mr. Bossy Sterling, I can walk with you, or I can follow a half mile behind you. Which you want?”
“Damn headstrong woman,” Jeff snapped.
“Thank God you got one, mister. You want your kids to be half jellyfish?” Lil asked.
Jeff didn’t know what a jellyfish was, but the words painted a pretty good image. Outgunned two females to one him, he led off with the first horse. Lil and Annie followed.
They left Jeff in the lead long enough for him to stomp out his huff; then Lil took point. Her reader showed a small trail that would take them most of the way, farther if they didn’t mind walking a longer route. A few minutes on the trail’s better footing showed the shortest route wasn’t the fastest.
Before long, Jeff found himself walking beside Annie, holding her free hand. Lil pulled a bit ahead of them, leaving them a space to talk. “Why, Annie? Why did you have to come? I can take care of this.”
“Why are you here? Couldn’t Lil do it all by herself?”
“Two can work faster. If something happens to her, I can take over,” Jeff shot back without a moment’s thought.
“If two is good, three is better,” Annie said flatly.
“But I want you safe.”
“And you don’t think I want the same for you?”
That had Jeff. He walked along for a while, mulling that over. “Thank you for coming,” he finally said.
“Keep that one, honey,” Lil called over her shoulder. “He’s dumb, but he’s educatable.”
Annie squeezed his hand. He felt like a million pounds of copper. An hour later, his legs seemed to weigh a million pounds. Slogging through the mud, up hills flowing like streams with runoff, downhill where the water and mud wanted him and his horse to slide like a wind skier, he and Annie struggled.
Twilight was a muddy memory before they cut cross-country for the ridge they wanted to bust up. Without the goggles, Jeff was pretty sure he’d have drowned crossing the field. The map showed a small creek flowing down the middle of the valley. Now it was wide and dangerous. It was Annie who suggested they go upstream to a marshy spot. It was still bad, but there was no deep creek. Horses and humans floundered, hunting for footing, finding a little here, enough there.
Across, they collapsed on the only dry ground around. Lil studied the ridge as they caught their breath. “I got an idea about that puppy. We don’t have to blast that rock, just thump it enough to crack their connections.”
“What are you getting at?” Jeff gulped.
“There’s a lot of dirt and crud around the base of that hill. Solid rock inside it and along the top of the ridge. What if we drilled in through the dirt? No nanos there.”
“But wouldn’t the mud just slide down?” Annie asked.
“Not if we did it high enough up. Close to where the rock outcropping begins, but not actually on it. Game?”
“You’re the one with thirty years of drilling,” Jeff said.
It was muddy work; Lil sprayed the plastic on her hands and peeled it off every fifteen minutes. The holes were fewer, and deeper into the mountain. It was a gamble, but if the computer was learning how to fight them, Jeff was damned if he wouldn’t show it humans can think of new ways to hit it.
It was midnight when they mounted their horses and rode around the valley, keeping to the hills. At the top of the valley, they paused while Lil set off the blast. In the dark, the ground shook, but they could see nothing of what they’d done.
Ray made his usual midnight trip to the bathroom. The crazy planet had healed his broken back but missed his plumbing problem. Oh, well, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
The gift horse was waiting for him as he dozed off again.
The President sat in a plush leather chair behind a vast wooden desk. What must be the Provost stood off to one side, purple robes flowing over his three-piece suit, a staff in his right hand, a large, multisided silver ball at its head.
“Glad to see you two again,” Ray quipped. “You talking to each other?” In answer to his question, they both glowered at him…ignoring each other.
“You are trying to annoy me,” the Provost snapped.
“You are trying to exterminate me,” Ray snapped back.
“You threatened me.”
“After you threatened me,” Ray pointed out.
“This is getting us nowhere,” the President grumbled.
“And you”—the Provost turned on him—“you coddle them. Side with them. They attack me, and you push me back. Don’t you see what they are doing? We should eradicate them.”
“Maybe we should have. But that is not an issue anymore.”
“Not an issue. You could control them. You can take away their memories, turn them to jelly! Strike, you idiot!”
“I can’t. I just lost a major node up North. I no longer have that capacity,” the President admitted sourly.
“You fool. You slow-witted imbecile. You’ve let them…let them…” At a loss for words, the Provost swung his staff at the President’s head. A sword appeared in the President’s hand. He slashed the Provost’s staff in two. The Provost threw the half of the staff he held at the President and produced a sword of his own. The two went at it.
Ray awoke with the feeling of being too close to a bad brawl. Negotiation was not an option with folks who wouldn’t stop fighting long enough to talk; that option was closed. Well, at least now he knew that Dancer had given them good targeting data. The threat to every human cell on the planet was gone. Feeling good about the day, Ray rolled over and went back to sleep.