They Also Serve: A Jump Universe Novel Part 31

Her captor's eyes grew wide with surprise as her gut was st.i.tched open, Annie dropped the horses's reins and batted away the gun at her head-a split second before it fired.

Jeff whirled, bringing his rifle up to take out Nikki's captor. Two, maybe three marines had already put three-round bursts into her skull. Her head wasn't there anymore.

The body stood for a second, then crumpled, air rifle still aimed at its hostage's chin. Nikki and Daga, covered with gore and bone from the hits beside them, screamed hysterically as they collapsed to their knees. Dumont rushed to them, chucked the air rifle away, then held both girls as they shrieked.

Jeff raced for Annie.

She stared down at the woman. "I did it," she whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "I did it myself. I did," she said as Jeff took her in his arms. "I hoped you'd come. Hoped you would," she muttered to his chest. "But I didn't know. I wasn't sure they'd let you. But I knew I'd do what I had to when the time came." She looked up at Jeff. "I did it."

"You did, honey. You did." Then she began to cry. Trembling in his arms, the tears turned to racking sobs. Jeff found himself crying, too. He didn't want to. A marine wouldn't. A glance behind him showed tears on Dumont's face as he held the girls. Maybe it was okay to cry.

Three marines went through the piles of gear around the fire and found the vanis.h.i.+ng box. Others collected the sleepers in the woods, brought them in, and tied their arms and legs. One went from wounded to wounded, stopping the bleeding. The marines were a good team, they let their boss have the time to cry with the girls, let Jeff rejoice and tremble with his girl. It was fifteen minutes before one of them tapped Dumont. "The Colonel'll want to know, sir."

Dumont looked. Sniffed. Pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, used it, then tapped his commlink. "Boss man, this is Du. We got the box. We got all the hostages unhurt. This street is clean, man. Your dog's got one h.e.l.l of a bite."

Ray laughed at Dumont's report; his dog did have sharp teeth. "Took you long enough," he countered. "Any casualties?"

"No marines. Young Jeff's hands are a bit the worse for wear. He failed on his first rappelling gig. We got all three of the missing local girls unhurt. At least they're not bleeding. It got a bit ugly."

"But they have a long life ahead to get over it. I'll launch a blimp at first light to connect with the package. We're sending it south."

"You might want to wait on that, sir. These ridges are no place for a blimp. I suggest we meet on the plains."

Ray glanced at the blimp pusher, who'd come into his office when he started talking. She nodded. "Pilot agrees with you. How long to get down off that hill of yours?"

"We spent the day getting here. I guess it'll take most the night getting down. I'll call in when we're close."

"You bringing any prisoners?"

"You want any?" Du asked. "I was planning on just leaving them here. Let them wake up and discuss the situation among themselves when they do. I'm a tired man, skipper, and I got a long road ahead of me tonight. I'll see you when I get back."

"Take care." Ray taped Du off and turned to the pilot. "You have any problems with that?"

"Nope. If the wind's too stiff to land, I'll lower a basket." Ray nodded. "Lek, you packed?"

"I am, but Kat asked if she could go. She's lighter. Might be an issue with the blimp. Which of us do you want up there?"

"Neither." Ray rubbed his eyes. "Will I need her scrounging the databases, or you keeping Net Dancer under some kind of control? Mary, anyone else we could send?"

"No one else's ready for independent command, sir."

Ray flipped a mental coin. "Tell Kat she's got the job."

Lek nodded and left. Ray scowled at Mary. "Is that what they'll write on my tombstone, this whole planet's tombstone, *There just weren't enough of us to go around'?"

"Beat's the h.e.l.l out of *They blew it,'" Mary snorted as she left, leaving Ray alone.

What did he think he was doing, going head to head with a super computer that had two million years to learn this territory? He had to be crazy. Still, it had never fought a war and had done little the past million years. Ray had spent most of his life fighting; he knew the drill. Use your strengths, a.s.suming you could find any, against their weaknesses, a.s.suming same.

Ray was targeting their strategic resources, limiting their local options. Now could he and the kids really hit the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds where they'd hurt? Like every attack man had made since the first one, only time would answer that.

Ray stood. He'd promised the kids he'd read them a bedtime story. He needed to get in practice, reading kids bedtime stories. a.s.suming he lived through this battle. a.s.suming he got home. A lot of a.s.suming there. He remembered some of the bedtime stories his dad had read him: The Song of Roland, Beowulf, Henry Five's address to his men before Agincourt. That might be a good one for the kids.

Ray s.h.i.+vered-at the thought of his own kid going into battle, at the thought of what he was doing to these poor kids. "It has to be done, and they're the only ones who can do it," he said aloud. Still, he tasted the wrong of what he was doing to them, even as he went to prepare them for it.

"Please, dear G.o.d, after tomorrow, no more of this for me or mine."

FIFTEEN.

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 G.o.d listening. The sod was back on it, for which she thanked the little priest, so the rain wasn't was.h.i.+ng 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-fas.h.i.+on problem; Defend the base on which they stand. Problem was, those weren't armed-to-the-teeth b.a.s.t.a.r.ds 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-fas.h.i.+on 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; h.o.a.rding 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 s.h.i.+vered 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 s.h.i.+t 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. Ca.s.sie 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 G.o.d 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. Pus.h.i.+ng the mule flat a.s.s for h.e.l.l, sir. In the process of pa.s.sing 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 vanis.h.i.+ng 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 pa.s.s 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 ent.i.ties 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 pa.s.sed before the Dean took a step away from his a.s.sociates. "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, pa.s.sing 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 Ca.s.sie."

"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 a.s.sociates. 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."