They Also Serve (34 page)

That settled, Ray moved to his second item. "Right now the Pres and Provost can draw on their northern assets. I propose we eliminate them, cut them off from the North as they cut you off."

Net Dancer shook his head. "There may be just one good path into this out-of-the-way mudhole, but there are hundreds to North Continent."

"We eliminate North," Ray said simply. That got everyone's attention. "These are the mountains that serve as their main power base." Ray circled the pink and blue areas of the map, elevated them into topo relief. The Dean nodded. "We make them go away as soon as we have our hands on the vanishing box."

"You can't do that" came from several of the tiny images ... and Mary.

Ray waved Mary to silence and faced his allies. "This is war. We enforce our will upon the enemy or, failing that, destroy him. The President and Provost depend on these for their strength. To enforce our will, these have to go. If we have to kill the President and Provost, these go."

"But, but," the Dean sputtered, "those were our nodes, too. You destroy them and we'll be forever rebuilding ourselves."

"You don't have them now," Ray said.

"But we'll get them back."

"Not the way things are going. You were losing last time we talked. If things keep going the way they are, you will lose. There won't be any 'you' left to reoccupy those nodes." These folks really didn't know war. You don't win one cheap.

"But if you destroy them, you'll destroy us?"

That stopped Ray in his tracks. "I don't understand."

Net Dancer was the one who stepped forward to look up at Ray with tiny, earnest eyes. "We are here. Our decision-making processes are here. So much of what we know, have done, recall, is there, stored in networks under those mountains. We brought what we needed to survive. But to do more, to really live, we need those rich memories."

"But I see what the Colonel is talking about," the Dean said, coming forward. "For us, those are memories. For P & P, those are sources of new nanos, planning, and power. They are reviewing what happens down here, learning what works and doesn't work. Up there, they are learning how to win this war. What we face here are only their long arms and fingers, so to speak. I know it will be hard if the Colonel wipes out those nodes, but we do have backups scattered around. We could rebuild ourselves."

"Not all of them," Net Dancer insisted.

"Enough." The Dean suddenly cut Dancer off. "Colonel, I agree, as soon as you can, make those mountains vanish."

Ray turned to Lek and Mary. "Lek, as soon as you've got the vanishing box, take the shuttle north."

"Yes, sir" and "No, sir" greeted that order. Ray said nothing to Mary's objection.

She leaned forward into his silence. "I was at the shuttle hangar just now. Somebody slashed every tire on it last night. We've only got two spares. The shuttle's going nowhere."

"Who did it?"

"Sir, we got ten, fifteen thousand strangers on this base. It could have been anyone."

"Our security patrols—" Ray started.

"Walked past it every thirty minutes last night, on schedule. None noticed it was a bit lower than usual."

Ray leaned back in his chair, trying to adjust. Were the Provost or President already controlling people on his base? So far they never actually made anyone do anything. Which of his human enemies had decided the shuttle gave him too much power and ordered someone inside his fence to take it out?

Ray'd been trained to take a lance in the chest and keep moving. A commander had to keep moving; if he didn't, the command didn't. Should he drop the northern sally or try to make it happen some other way? He'd browbeat his allies into it. Could he walk away from it?

Down the table, the blimp pilot shuffled her papers. "Sir, could you bring up the latest weather on that board of yours?" Ray did. "These things rotate counterclockwise," she said, half to herself. "If the blimp down South doesn't get back before the winds pick up, I've ordered him to loop around the mountains and cruise up the other side. We've never been there. He's kind of jazzed on the prospects. Me, I've always wanted to ride a hurricane. We can't go north against those winds, but if you ride them south, they turn westward, then north," she grinned.

Ray shook his head. What was it with stick and rudder people? You put a wing, spaceship, balloon under someone and they started thinking they were indestructible gods. "You want to ride it all the way around?"

"The winds will tear you apart," Mary said.

Rhynia pursed her lips. "Not if I stay far enough out, where the winds are less than forty miles per hour, not shifting and ripping at a hundred twenty. Hell, I pull this off, every gas bag jockey that ever flies will know my name," she crowed.

The Dean shook his head. "There are some things that were never fully covered in my databases. Go ahead, make it vanish. I'll want to write a whole new one anyway after watching you."

"It's what happens when you go to war, Dean. You never know what the human heart is good for until you ask 'em for more than they ever thought they could give. Now, folks, let's get busy."

Fourteen

JEFF SCOWLED; THEY damn near lost the sky eye twice to stalls as they turned it around into the stiff headwind. After much cussing from Bo, Dumont's sensor boss, the mule's display came to life. Jeff and Du studied it, the sergeant's fingers flitting over the screen. "We got a group west of us, a big one coming up from the south east of us, and one squatting in the middle. Not to mention a few clusters of two or four. Bo, they players or just innocent bystanders?"

"My gear says they got a human heart, not what's in it." "Any of them women?" Jeff asked, hoping. "I can get you a pulse rate, son, but your guess is as good as mine as to whether it's a woman or an anxious man." For another hour they drove the winding trail, getting a feel for the people on the mountain this dreary day. The trail got rougher, narrower, the going slower.

Finally the driver halted. "Far as we go, boss." "Let's mount up, marines. It's a good day for a ride." "I'll stay here and relay for you," Bo offered. "Pack it in, old man. The higher we get, the better line you'll have on your bird and the less likely we'll have a line on this mule. Everybody out. Everybody rides."

"Those things-can we really get up on them?" one marine asked, voice quivering. He looked more scared of a horse than of a fight. Probably been in more fights. Jeff helped him mount.

An hour later, they were over one ridge and climbing another. They rode slowly, watching for falling limbs, ready to dodge for their life. Their horses stepped carefully over downed branches. "Blimp's coming up," Bo called.

"Pass them our three targets. See if they can tell anything about 'em." A red
"X"
appeared on Du's map reader marking the disappearing box-in the middle of the unmoving group. "Thought so. Let's see the imagery." The reader zoomed the picture down. It got hazy before it showed much definition.

"Rocks," Jeff offered. "But we knew that."

"I told 'em you can't see a cave from orbit," Bo laughed.

Du enlarged the picture until it held all three groups and themselves. He frowned. "Southern group is moving in fast. Other group coming in from the North with us is moving kind of careful." Du worked the map through several lines of sight the stationary group would have on all of them as they closed on it.

"What are you up to?" Jeff asked.

"I'll show you in a little while" was Du's only answer.

A half hour got them up another ridge; Du called a halt. "Bo, set up a rocket to lob a charge against that rock slab in one hour." Du pointed out a rocky promontory that shot up solid and steep five miles across the valley from them. "Lay down a string of monitors along this trail."

"Whatever, boss," Bo answered. He dismounted and got to work. Du again studied the topography map on his reader. "We'll need to be on that ridge when the fun starts," he told Jeff.

"What fun?" Jeff asked.

"Wait and see, buddy, wait and see."

A hard hour's ride later, they were atop the next ridge. Right on schedule, the rocket arched across to slam into the foot of the giant rock. Jeff kept his eyes on Du's reader as echoes came in from the listening posts they'd left behind. Just as they had when Mary thumped the hill, the soundings quickly painted the inside of the mountains, showing cracks, crevices, caves. Then part of the picture went blank. Jeff looked up and swallowed a yelp. The rock massif was gone!

"Kind of expected that," Du drawled. Jeff reached over Du's shoulder to tap several keys on his map reader. The heartbeats of the parties they'd been following appeared. The group coming up from the South was close to the missing mountain. Jeff counted hearts and came up shy by half.

"You knew!" Jeff accused.

"I thought it might," Du answered evenly.

"Annie, Nikki—"

'"Are most likely with the other group," Du cut him off. "Now let's get moving, crew. I don't know when they can take their next shot, but I don't want to be here."

Sullenly, Jeff followed Du. The man had said he was tired of being the Colonel's killing dog, but he was playing fast and loose with Annie's life. Jeff ought to ... ought to ... There was nothing Jeff could do.

Ten minutes later, Dumont dropped back to ride beside Jeff. "Look, I'm sorry about back there, but I have to know what's up ahead, and all our shit isn't telling me near enough. I'm almost certain Annie's safe, but I got to do everything I can to keep my crew here safe. They've saved my ass too many times. You understand."

"No, I don't," Jeff answered, then thought more on it. "Maybe I do, but I'm not sure I want to."

Du reached over, punched Jeff on the shoulder. "Maybe I don't want to either. But we're here, and you and your girl could be nothing but atoms any second, so I'm doing what Mary and the others trained me to do—think with my head, not my ass. For what it's worth, the echos show a cave up there, more like an overhang. The folks with the vanishing box are camped there. We can get above them. That's what I plan to do tonight, when there's no sun, and, with luck, the damn thing will have no power. Get above them and take them from behind."

"When?"

"Probably when the group that has your Annie walks her and her sister into camp. That ought to distract enough people to let us do what we have to before they know they're being done to. That close we can use the sleepy bullets. Maybe nobody else will have to die in this lash-up. Maybe. That would be nice."

Jeff nodded. What could he say? Dumont held all the cards in this game; Annie would live or die by his rules.

Harry's hand laser cut a wide chunk out of the gravel roadbed. He gawked; the damn rock was fused solid. And not just where the wagon wheels had pounded it down. An inch or two below the loose gravel, it was solid rock again. He cut a wedge a good foot down and a foot across.

"You think that'll slow the Pres?" a voice chided him from his commlink. "His repair crew'11 have that patched in no time."

"And this is?" Harry answered his unrequested message.

"You call me Net Dancer. I just thought I ought to look in on you, see how you were doing. Not very well, if I may say so."

"Cassie, are the explosives in?" Harry asked.

"About there."

"Hang around for a second," Harry suggested. "I'd make sure I was on our side of this break, though. It'd be a shame for us to slam the door with you on the outside," Harry grinned. Actually, he'd love to.

"I'm inside," Net Dancer answered peevishly. "I'm observing this through your thin commlink." Ten minutes later the charges went off; Net Dancer gave them a bit more respect. "That'll slow them down for a couple of hours. Is that all you're doing?"

"We'll cut it in a couple more places. You just keep your eyes open for other work-arounds your old boss might try."

Net Dancer might be happy, but the refugees they'd held up on the road while they blew it were anything but. "We'll have the devil's own time getting Granny and the wagon through that. Ya got no respect, man."

"Sorry," Harry called. He got his crew remounted and headed for the next valley, where he would blow another hole in the road.

"You starmen, ya got your nice wagons. Well, the rest of us got what we got. Why ya making it harder on us?"

Cassie shook her head as she ordered the driver to go. "If you have to explain what's going on, there's no use bothering. They don't like it, and they're fools to think not liking it will change God's will." Harry had no answer for either man or marine. He held on tight as they gunned across an open field, leaving what was left of the road to the people on it.

Daga wrapped her arms around her knees, swaying slowly where she'd collapsed when the mountain vanished. The explosion had brought Sean and Jean Jock rushing from the cave. They'd taken one look at the rising smoke and set up the box. They hadn't known how to open it. She'd refused to tell them until Sean bent her arm behind her and threatened to break it if she didn't tell. She'd opened the box and showed them how to aim it.

The noise and light had come again-and the gray, stone mountain had gone.

Then the woman and the two men returned. She'd been livid with Sean and Jean Jock. Shouted at them, demanded to know what they were thinking, why they'd done it. "You heard the blast. There's something out there. It's gone now." Sean had insisted.

"Gone, you say. You're sure," the woman had torn into Sean. "Something goes boom and you have to make a mountain disappear. Was the little boy frightened? You're disgusting."

Daga was shocked that Sean let the woman talk to him like that, but under her tongue-lashing, Sean deflated like a broken blimp. When the woman finished with Sean, she turned to her two followers. "Well, we'd better get ready. Someone is out there, despite what these idiots have done. Get your rifles."

"Shall I put away the box?" Jean Jock asked the woman.

"No. Keep it out. We may have to use it again."

Harry used a crowbar on the railroad bed, scraping aside the top layer of rocks. Below them, the bed was melded stone. What turned rocks into something that made fiber optics look like two kids holding cans with a tight string between them? "Well, give us another few years and see what we've got," Harry muttered to himself.

"It'll take millions," Net Dancer answered from Harry's commlink. "Unless you get us to help you. Want a hand, pops?"

Harry bit back several retorts. He never had liked his workstation; it always failed when he most needed it. It seemed to have a mind of its own. Did he want one that really did? "How deep does this rock go?" was what he finally said.

"Railroad specs say three, four feet of rock. Don't know if the Gardener used it all or went farther."

"I thought you knew everything."

"Maybe the Gardener knew what he did. We lost all that when you humans fixed his wagon. Okay?"

A train's airhorn sounded in the distance. Harry strained into the gathering gloom. Right, train lights. They could rig the charges, let the train pass, then blow the section. Marines waved to the passengers as the train rolled by, then blew the line charges. The explosions started in the distance and marched with majestic violence up the tracks, hurling rock, rails, and dirt in large, ever-widening plums.
Try fixing that, break, you arrogant bunch of circuits,
Harry said to himself. With Net Dancer listening, he said nothing aloud.

Electricity gone, the train rolled to a slow stop. Harry and Cassie piled into their mule and headed home, carefully clear of the train. They weren't far enough.

"Cassie, did you do that?" came in a loud, piercing shout.

"Ms. San Paulo," Cassie muttered under her breath. Sure enough, standing on the steps of the lead car was the Chair of the Central Circle of Santa Maria.

"Driver, over there." Cassie pointed him toward San Paulo.

"What's the meaning of this?" San Paulo shrieked as soon as they were in talking distance. "You've killed the train to County Clair. How are we supposed to get people to safety now?"

"They'll have to walk, ma'am. The big computer the Colonel is fighting has been using the rocks in the roadbed as a network. We had to take it out."

"You can't send messages through rocks. That Colonel is crazier than I thought. You'll just have to drive me to the base." Cassie looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'll have to call that in, Ma'am. Colonel's restricting access to the base right now."

"He'd never turn me away. I have to see my daughter."

"Can't argue with that," the Colonel agreed, none too happily. "Give her a ride in."

San Paulo insisted that someone walk to make more room for her. Cassie crammed her and her luggage aboard.

Jeff climbed; the cold stone cut his hands. Blood made the next grip slippery. The marines had gloves. Bo, who'd stayed behind with the horses, had offered his gloves to Jeff. Too small, they fit Ned's grip. Jeff thought of Annie and climbed, taking up the slack in the safety rope. It was pitch-black; even with night goggles, he could hardly see the handholds. Jeff climbed, thinking of Annie, and not the latest argument he'd lost with Du.

The group coming from the west was following a trail. The marines had crossed ahead of them. Jeff wanted to set up an ambush, get them now, and free Annie. Dumont quickly dismissed the option. "We're too damn close to the box. Even sleepy bullets make noise. We stage a firelight here, they'll make us all vanish." Jeff had wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words. Damn, why did Dumont always have to be right? Did right matter when Annie's life was at risk?

It started to rain, first gentle bits of moisture on the wind, then angry drops. The marines grumbled despite their magic space clothes keeping them warm. Jeffs outfit had been worn out to begin with. Now the wind and rain went straight through him. All he had to keep him warm were his anger with Dumont and his love for Annie. For the time being, these seemed enough. Ahead, Du signaled for a halt with a dark light. It had to be magic, a light you could see only with night goggles. Magic. And the computer was like magic to them. Junior mages fighting master mages. What chance did he and Annie have against them?
We and our grandparents built this place. I'll be damned if I'll let anyone take it away from us.

Jeff pulled himself up the last handhold. There was a flat space where Du and the other marines huddled out of the wind. Jeff joined them; Du was talking. "We got a shoulder here that leads around to the overhang we're headed for. Let's take five, then follow it. Jeff, show me your hands."