Chains of Freedom (28 page)

"RJ!" David screamed as he hung on Whitey's back. There was no response from RJ. She'd given up on her quest for food and was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. "RJ, for God's sake!" he screamed.

RJ walked from the bathroom, still brushing her teeth."What?" she asked, through a mouthful of toothpaste, as if she were really put out.

"What?" David screamed in disbelief. "He's killing Alexi! Do you think you might give me a hand?"

She clapped, and went back into the bathroom.

"That's not funny, RJ!" David screamed.

Whitey took a break from beating Alexi just long enough to throw David off his back. David landed at RJ's feet as she stepped out of the bathroom. "Would you help?" David begged.

David didn't care that Alexi had insulted her, and RJ certainly didn't care whether Whitey killed Alexi or not.

She looked at Alexi. The only thing that was holding him up were the blows which pounded continuously into his head. He'd be dead soon. If he wasn't already. David didn't want him dead. It was time to strike a deal.

"If I make him stop, do you promise never to mention what happened last night?"

David didn't have to think about that offer. It was what he wanted anyway. "No problem."

RJ walked over to Whitey, and put her hand on his shoulder. "Let him go," she whispered gently.

Whitey let go of Alexi, and he fell with a sick thump to the floor. Before Whitey could change his mind, David grabbed Alexi and pulled him into the bathroom. Mickey followed. He helped David put him into the tub. David started filling it with cold water. He took a damp rag, and started cleaning up what was left of Alexi's face.

Alexi coughed. He came to a bit, and immediately spit blood and two teeth from his mouth.

"Well, you've done it this time, Alexi. It wasn't enough that RJ hated your guts. You weren't happy till you made an enemy of Whitey Baldor," David said.

"I don't like you, either," Mickey said, and seeing that Alexi was going to live after all, stomped out of the room.

"You saved me," Alexi said, in a thankful, if somewhat battered voice.

"Actually, RJ did," David said.

"RJ?" Alexi couldn't fathom that. Even in his current state, he was aware that this sounded all wrong.

"It surprised the hell outta me, too." David cleaned Alexi's wounds. He hoped that the cold water would keep him coherent. Some of these wounds needed stitches, and he only knew one person who could do that. He went to get RJ, and found her with Baldor's tongue down her throat. Now would not be a good time to ask her to stitch up Alexi's head, if there really was a good time for that.

Mickey lay in the middle of the bed, watching the couple and obviously getting his jollies, David gave him a dirty look, and motioned with his head towards the door. Mickey just grinned and shook his head no.

David sighed; he was surrounded by animals.

The fat manager waddled into the apartment. "OK, where is it?" he demanded.

RJ pushed Whitey away. "What?" she demanded not bothering to straighten her clothes. "You could have knocked."

"The door was open," he said. "Don't try to change the subject. Where's the body?"

"There is no body," David assured him. The blood dripping from the rag he held in his hand didn't add credibility to his words.

"Mind if I look around?" the manager asked skeptically.

"Be my guest," RJ said with a shrug.

He waddled into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he waddled out. "That man's almost dead."

"Almost only counts in explosives," RJ said with a sweet smile.

"If he dies . . ."

"You'll be the first to know," RJ assured him.

"There's a charge for stiffs, you know."

"Really? I wasn't aware of that." RJ looked at Whitey. "You're going to have to take better care of your toys."

"There's a rule. You'll find it in your lease." He cleared his throat and recited. "All sex acts involving more than one person must be conducted with the door closed."

He looked at Mickey. "Want to get the door?" Then he looked expectantly at Whitey and RJ.

"Get the hell out of here, or there really will be a stiff in our room," Whitey spat.

He made a face and left.

Whitey watched as RJ moved swiftly away from him. But putting distance between them wasn't going to work forever; it was just a matter of time now, and time was the one thing Whitey had plenty of.

Jessica paced back and forth like a caged animal. It had been several weeks since RJ had raided the supply train full of communicators. The train where RJ had come up against trained Elites and a GSH and had destroyed them all. They had found Jack's box at the scene—proof that RJ knew what Jessica had done and that it wouldn't work again.

Jessica was right back at square one. No clues, no edge, flying blind. She had no idea where or when RJ would show up. Jessica was unaccustomed to being helpless. It was a feeling she promised herself she was not going to get used to.

Theoretically, she and RJ should be identical, but they weren't. RJ embraced chaos, while Jessica worked to preserve the Reliance, the pinnacle of order.

Jessica sat at her desk, and once more studied the autopsy report. RJ had beaten the GSH nearly to death, and then slit its throat. It had been no more trouble to her than anything else they had thrown at her. This upset Jessica more than anything to date, because she wasn't so sure that she could live through a hand-to-hand encounter with a GSH.

Jessica had no doubt that RJ planned to build an army. Yet there was no such activity visible, much less activity on the scale that would be necessary to carry off such a coup.

Jessica didn't understand what motivated RJ. The reports indicated that she had refused to participate in a cleansing exercise, but she had no trouble killing Jack and all his guards in cold blood just to cover the stealing of his box. In Jessica's mind, the two things seemed to contradict one another.

RJ was a genuine threat to the Reliance—at least the Reliance here on Earth. Even if that fat idiot Jago didn't think so. His opinion didn't change the facts, no matter how much he might wish the problem away. Her meeting with the self-important Blob of Sector 11-N had been nothing more or less than a humongous joke.

"Come now, Senator," Jago had laughed, his blubber rippling like a hippo doing a hula. "Grant you this RJ person has been a dreadful nuisance, but to suggest that she can be any more that a trivial hindrance?" He laughed again. "Why, it's absolutely absurd!"

Jessica gritted her teeth. If he admitted RJ was a real threat, then he would have to inform the World Commissioner. So when you boiled it all down, Jago refused to do anything drastic to get rid of RJ because to do that was to acknowledge that RJ was a real threat. He didn't want to admit that RJ was a real threat because he didn't want to have to tell his big brother that he couldn't handle his sector and its problems.

"We need more GSHs. The only one who can sanction their manufacture is the World Commissioner," Jessica reminded him.

Jago managed to look thoughtful for all of two seconds before he waved a hand dismissively and declared. "No, we have plenty of GSHs in Zone 2-A. There is no sense in overkill . . .

Jessica lost it then. "Overkill? Over kill is what we've got right now! Over four hundred men, including Governor Bristol, several troops of Elites and at least one GSH have been killed to date. Not to mention whole shipments of arms and supplies and caravans of vehicles destroyed or stolen. This is just RJ! Can you imagine what will happen if she succeeds in building an army?"

Red faced, his jowls rippling with anger, Jago levered himself upright and cut her off. "Do you have any idea who you are talking to?" he replied shrilly.

For one delicious moment, Jessica thought about being honest: a fat pompous idiot. Fortunately, self-preservation pressed the answer to the back of her throat. "I'm sorry, Your Excellency, but this problem with the rebels weighs heavily on my mind."

"The death of your lover weighs heavily on your . . . mind . . . Kirk," Jago hissed, then sat down with a plop.

Jessica thought that his legs probably wouldn't hold him up any longer. She inwardly steamed. This fat bastard had a hell of a lot of nerve.

"I understand how you must feel, but it is time you picked up the pieces and got on with your life. You are obsessed with this RJ person, Senator. That is why you are so ineffective against her. You have made her out to be more than she truly is." He laughed. "Really, Kirk. 'Topple the Reliance!' Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?"

She left before she could do anything violent. Depriving herself of this pleasure was regrettable, but necessary for the sake of her career. As she left, she could hear Jago saying to Right, who had sulked silently in a corner through the entire meeting, "I thought you weren't going to bother me about this RJ person anymore, Right." He added with near-operatic melodrama, "You are ruining my day. You know how much this nonsense distresses me."

She heard Right mumbling feebly about needing him to get GSHs. He should have saved his breath. They weren't going to get any help. At least not from Jago.

He was a stupid pig. He wouldn't believe RJ was a real threat till she knocked down his door, stuck an apple in his mouth, and roasted the fat bastard.

Jessica put her head down on the desk. She was afraid. Afraid that she was going to lose the battle with RJ. Afraid of being found wanting. She needed Jack. She needed to feel loved and accepted. But Jack was gone. Nothing could bring him back, and she was alone.

She had never felt so inept or so vulnerable. It was RJ's fault. Everything was RJ's fault. Hate moved in rapidly to fill the space that had once held her love for Jack.

All that was important was to kill RJ.

Stewart had killed himself to protect RJ. Jessica still couldn't quite fathom that. Had she been somehow more that an experiment to him? Why should he care more for RJ than he did for her? There was only one logical answer. Stewart must have believed in RJ's cause. He, too, must have hated the Reliance.

Jessica realized, not without shame, that part of her growing hatred for RJ stemmed from the fact that RJ had somehow won Stewart's favor. Perhaps Stewart had loved RJ. But, what did it matter now? Stewart was dead. RJ had killed Jack, and Poley was off to join the Rebellion. Her family, such as it was, had given her nothing but trouble and grief.

She sat up straight, and dried her eyes. She couldn't afford the luxury of being depressed. If she was going to catch RJ, she was going to have to use all her skills and resources.

If she could just clear her mind of random thought, the answer would come to her. Unfortunately some of those random thoughts were of Jack, and she couldn't let him go. Not yet.

David couldn't be sure whether or not Whitey and RJ were actually lovers, but it was obvious that Whitey meant for them to be. If RJ slept on the floor, Whitey curled up beside her. If she slept on the bed, he crawled in beside her, even if it meant pushing David aside to do so. David no longer had trouble with that particular union. In fact, since RJ had all but attacked him in the middle of the floor, David thought it was a very good idea for her to have sex with someone—anyone but him.

As for RJ's brother . . . That guy was a real weirdo. He hardly showed any sign of emotion, and when he did, it only seemed skin-deep. He had no body language, and David found that unnerving. But David couldn't say that Poley was hard to get along with. In order to be hard to get along with you had to have a personality. If Poley had one, it was well hidden.

David's own relationship with RJ was changing. Times alone were scarce, and it almost seemed to David that RJ avoided situations where they would be alone together. When they were, there was an obvious tension that hadn't been there before.

One day they went for a rare walk alone on the beach. David reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, and he felt her flesh tighten.

"What's wrong with you?" David asked hotly.

"Nothing," she said with a shrug. She walked over and sat down on a rock, looking out at the ocean. "Nothing at all."

David walked up behind her and started rubbing her back. "You're so tense."

"I don't have a right to be?" She laughed. "We are preparing to wage war with the Reliance. I think we should all be a little tense."

"You and Whitey . . . is that the problem?" he asked, sitting beside her.

RJ sighed. "He loves me."

"So?" David didn't see that as any sort of problem.

"I don't love him. I'm not even sure I know him. If I did, I might not want to." RJ kicked at the sand with her boots. "I like Whitey."

"So, what's the problem, RJ?"