"She will," Annie agreed.
"I've got to get some sleep," Jeff said, standing. "We're going after the Sterling archives tomorrow. I'll be home late. Maybe not until morning."
"You'll be using the rifle," Annie's dad said.
Jeff glanced at the webbing crossing his chest, realized for the first time that he'd brought his rifle with him. "Yes."
"Be careful," Annie said.
"I will."
"I'll wait up for you tomorrow." For once, neither Annie's mom nor dad censured her. What had Jeff heard the Colonel say, "Everything is changing"? Maybe all of it wouldn't be for the bad. Jeff climbed the stairs to his room, unslung his rifle, and fell into bed, clothes and boots still on. That was how he found himself when his commlink buzzed, and the duty officer informed him it was 0600 and he was due back in half an hour.
Ten
MARY NEEDED THINGS: a good target mock-up, someone to play Vicky's goons, and better information on the guards' routine. Mary needed lots of things; she wasn't going to get them. She tried to be philosophical, but she'd survived enough firelights to know unmet needs like these caused casualties. With luck, they wouldn't be anyone she knew.
The old feeling was back, the cold in the pit of the gut, the tightness around lips and eyes. It was time to soldier. Time for people to die or live, and she would be the angel of death deciding which.
Damn! I don't want to do this again! I earned my right to be an overpaid security guard. The only killing I want to make is mining this planet!
If the Colonel said right, they already had made one killing, an artificial intelligence Ray called the Gardener. Well, he hadn't known, and she sure as hell had no idea she was mining the guts out of something when she tapped that mountain. Accidents happen. And shit happens. And a combat drop was about to happen and Mary was going to do her level best to see that it happened the way she wanted it.
Mary had tapped a young woman blimp driver for the mission; she liked Rhynia's flair. When told Mary needed a blimp to swoop down out of the sky with marines dangling from it on ropes, Rhynia's reply was a dimpled smile and a "Why the hell not?"
Mary planned several full rehearsals to give both marines and blimp a chance to work together. The morning started with Jeff walking them through a mock-up of the archives in the field behind the shuttle hangar. Red tape showed the main floor plan, blue tape the basement. Jeff pointed out each workstation's location and the back entrance for the security team.
"Du, your squad heads downstairs first thing and ties down the guards," Mary said. "All else, we use sleepy bullets. If Jeffs big sis wanders into our snatch, we don't want to accidently pop her. Put anyone to sleep who has a gun, knife, or looks to cause trouble." Jeff started to say something, but Du gave him a wink and said he'd explain later. Mary walked the marines through their part in the snatch. Each had something to do every second, going someplace, looking someplace, guarding someplace, or grabbing something-not a free moment.
Jeffs mouth hung open. "Sis likes everyone busy, but nothing like this."
"Sis never worked with live ammunition and dudes who know how to use it," Dumont laughed.
"Keep it serious," Mary growled. "An airgun can pop you just as dead as an M-6," she reminded them. Twice Mary walked them through, talking up each move, each alternative, each possible threat. Then she had them run through it. Then she waved her wrist unit and timed them. Three minutes from entrance to exit. "We can do better than that," she told them.
They did. Two minutes, forty-five seconds. "Not bad," Mary admitted grudgingly as a yeoman trotted up and saluted.
"Colonel's compliments and regrets, but you might want to look at the latest feed from the sky eye over the target area." Ray better send his regrets for interrupting her day, but a surprise at the target could make the day very regrettable.
Mary tapped her commlink. "Colonel, you got something?"
"Yes, Captain. They've upped the guards at the archives and doubled the guards all around."
"They know we're coming?"
"Doubt it. Lek's been hacking and cracking their net. Seems some of Brother Jonah's faithful think Vicky belongs in hell and are ready to send her there personally."
"Oh, shit. Just what I need, amateurs pissing in my soup." Mary turned to Dumont, filled him in quickly.
"Guess we didn't pop enough church folks yesterday," Dumont drawled. Then he frowned. "Colonel, you sure none of those folks ain't after us here, at base? After all, we were the ones messing all over their turf yesterday."
"Yes," Ray said. "There are a few folks that think we need a quick trip to a warm place. They're just getting organized. The move on Vicky has been in the works for a while."
"And she would have to find out about it just when we need to slip in quietly," Mary scowled. "If it weren't for bad luck, we wouldn't have any."
"I have full confidence in you," Ray answered. "I've seen the quality of your work" Mary winced. "We aim to please," Dumont answered. Mary aimed a swing at his head, but he ducked.
Mary took two deep breaths, trying to work off the sudden pressure around her chest. No plan survives contact with the enemy. Hell, she couldn't get a plan to survive the morning. "It would be so much easier," Mary groaned, "to just pop 'em all and take what we want. Taking 'em down, quiet-like, is a bitch!"
Du nodded. "Taking 'em down and keeping us up, I will remind you, ma'am. I ain't thirsty for a lot of killing, but if it's ten of those jokers or one of mine, I look out for mine."
For the thousandth time, Mary wondered why she'd accepted those gold bars and a management position. As captain of Security she couldn't just ask the Colonel what to do. He relied on her to do her job. "Tico, drill the crew on the building takedown until chow time." A sergeant was on her feet, snapping a salute and getting the crew back in practice mode. "Dumont, you and Jeff with me. Let's see what those pictures show. Rhynia, you're with me, too. How far can I push you and your blimp?"
"Ma'am," the pilot grinned, "the wind pushes us blimp drivers around all the time. Nobody else does."
Victoria Sterling smiled. The space fools were so stupid. They came in here so smug, acting like they knew everything, but they knew nothing! Nothing at all about how things work on Santa Maria. Victoria looked again at the public land records she'd researched. Very important pages were blank. Yes, she had that idiot Longknife with his swaggering canes. She owned him now.
Ray frowned as he cycled his workstation through the high priorities he had to keep a thumb on. The search for the "vanishing box" continued, success diminishing with each passing minute. Mary's snatch and grab grew more complicated as the watch on her target identified more security going up around the Sterling compound. Lek and Harry were going over the rock samples recovered yesterday from up North, using everything handy and spending most of their time shaking their heads. Doc was pulling his hair out. His biopsies of tumors from Refuge cadavers showed larger ones in the rioters. He didn't dare cut into a live one, as much as he wanted to.
A page flashed for attention. Kat's dive through the Santa Marians database had found something. Miscarriages were double the human normal. Double! Most in the first trimester. As an expectant father, Ray had taken a very personal interest in human reproduction. Early miscarriages usually meant bad genes, nonviable blastocysts.
He started to make a note to Kat, track this over the past three hundred years. His board refreshed itself; Kat already had. The curve she passed along got a low whistle. There almost hadn't been a first generation born here. Four miscarriages per live birth.
Gardener, you almost wiped us out.
Ray went on. Chief Barber was handing out ID cards as fast as he could press them; people were lining up to get them for their entire family, and hardly noticing the card included an electrocardiac signature as well as a copper balance.
By the time Ray finished one review, it was time for another. Again he frowned at the search for the "vanishing box." Still no miracle.
Annie trembled; with an effort, she turned from the patch of wall she'd been staring at. The sun was up, casting bars of light on the floor, chairs, tables. She'd heard Jeff slip out at dawn, called "Luck" softly, and prayed he'd come back. He must not have heard, or maybe he was tired of seeing her so limp, like a worn-out dishrag. She would wait for him.
Da stirred; Ma took his hand, caressed its palm with gentle circles. Da looked at Ma, actually saw her. The two smiled, and Ma helped Da to his feet. Annie listened to the stairs creak as Ma led Da to bed. Annie so wanted a man like Da to care for.
The door opened; Annie realized she would have to care for any customers this morning. She tensed, torn between making herself small and unnoticed, and doing what she should do. Annie need not have bothered; it was only Nikki. Face tear-stained and dress dirty, little sister headed for the kitchen. Annie could hear her rummaging quietly in the cupboards, hunting for her own breakfast. But Nikki took longer than any self-respecting Mulroney should to make a single breakfast. Far too long.
Annie worked herself up to her feet and softly padded to the kitchen door. Nikki was filling a large sack with food. "What are you doing?"
Nikki jumped. "Getting food," she evaded.
"I can see that. Why?"
"I'm going on the road. I have to find Daga." The words flew out of Nikki, as if to stop even one would tear the tongue from her mouth. "I can stop her, make her listen to reason. If the star people find her, they'll shoot her. You heard Jeff. I can't let them kill Daga. She's my friend." The words ended in a flood of tears.
"Nikki, you can't go out there. It's not safe." Annie searched for words. "The roads have changed. They're full of people like ..." Annie had no words for what Nikki would face.
"I have to," Nikki insisted, reaching for her sack. "She's my friend. I don't want her to hurt anyone-or get hurt."
Annie stood there, hunting for a way to keep her sister safe and help Daga. There was only one way, Dumont's way. "Wait a moment, Nikki. Don't go until I get back."
Nikki halted, sack over her shoulder, hand on the kitchen door. Annie quickly crossed the Public Room floor to find her wallet with Dumont's pistol. He'd given it to Da, but Da had stared at it like a puzzle he could not solve. Annie had taken it. hidden it in the folds of her dress. It had stayed there until Dumont returned. Dumont came back when the screaming was done, his face as blank as a newborn's, hard as kilned ceramic.
He holstered his rifle and drove off without a backward glance. Annie had not wasted one either, but had watched where they were going, watched for more trouble. Halfway home, Dumont seemed to come back from where he'd gone. Looking around, he'd taken in Da, then glanced back at her. "You took the automatic."
"Yes," she'd gotten out.
"Keep it. The captain will rip me a new one, but you're gonna need it more than me. Take good care of it."
"I will," Annie said, the last words she'd said until they got home. Annie slipped the pistol into the leather wallet on her belt; it was heavy and comfortable there. Back in the kitchen, she found Nikki waiting. "Let me leave Ma a note," she told Nikki. "I'm going with you." Nikki opened her mouth as if to argue, then smiled like she had when she was a little girl and Annie had invited her out to play with the big girls. Annie wrote quickly, then remembered and added a line at the bottom:
Ma, tell Jeff where I've gone and that I love him.
Strange words to write, now, as she went out the door. Strange now to realize they were true. "Let's go, Nikki."
Jeffs dropstation was at Mary's elbow. He sat next to her, a blimp exit, dark and yawning, across from them. Night cloaked black uniforms and face paint. With his goggles, he could see the marines around him. Heavily laden, most napped, or appeared to. Mary stared out the door, mouth working as if going over every detail of the plan she had, probably looking for what she called Plans B, C, and D. Jeff figured she was up to Z in a few areas. Anybody going crosswise against Vicky better have lots of alternatives in her hip pocket.
Dumont was across from Jeff. Du's squad of sharpshooters would be the first out, assuming something didn't change in the next-Jeff glanced at his wrist unit-five minutes. His eyes rested on the combination watch, radio, navigation device, and computer workstation. It was amazing what humanity had done while Santa Maria was just struggling to stay alive.
The sound of the wind against the blimp gondola changed; napping heads came up. Dumont's face took on a feral grin; the man was so hard to figure. In the mule he'd wanted
to get rid of his gun. Yet, when Annie's life and worse was on the line, he'd killed with no regrets. Today he'd chided Mary to remember they were peacekeepers. This afternoon Dumont had shown Jeff how to use every aspect of his rifle, from sleepy bullets to live ammunition to bayonet, and Jeff, who missed half the instructions the first time, paid full attention. Amazing what becomes important after you've been shot at.
And shot back.
Jeff could still see the faces on the people he'd killed yesterday. But today he remembered them without his stomach going green and his chest getting tight. They'd made their choices; they didn't have to be on the rocky knoll trying to kill Dumont and the others. All the starfolks wanted were some rocks. It was the Covenanters who had turned it terminal, as Dumont put it. Now, Jeff could accept that logic. He'd changed, was changing, and he knew he would change more. But change or no change, he really looked forward to Vicky's reaction when she found out she'd lost the archives.
"First squad, stand to," Mary ordered. For this mission, every wrist unit had sprouted an earplug and a throat mike. Nobody had a hand to waste. "Prepare to dismount. Second squad and the blimp will wait for my orders."
There was a soft growl from the troops; Jeff stood. Even with rifle, two types of ammunition, a dozen grenades in three different flavors, and four rockets to deliver said grenades, he felt light, excited. He was ready.
The blimp touched down on a rise a mile out from Fairview compound. Mary waved Jeff and Dumont out first. They squatted in the grass, goggles on high zoom, checking for any surprises as the rest of the squad double-timed past them to flop down in a circle, rifles aimed out. Mary joined them; behind her the blimp rose on the gentle breeze, backing slightly.