Do Unto Others-ARC

by Michael Z. Williamson

Caron's conflicted expression was exasperated disgust.

  "You cruel bitch," she said.

  "I am," Elke said. "I owe you much bitch, too. Pay up."

  The young woman chewed her lip. "Very well, I agree. Under protest. Only because you're likely to strap me down if I don't."

  "I knew we'd come to an accord," Jason said.

  Elke said, "I can only surface emplace it. It must be close enough to crack the dome, but not close enough to actually remove more than a section. We will need two holes, one low, one high, the low one preferably upwind. The dome must evacuate its air and receive the influx. The second hole will be conventional from the inside."

  "Didn't we have that when this all started? It wasn't very quick."

  "I will make it quick."

  "That works," Jason said. "You know if she says she can do it, she can. Then, when we get into the office, I can just threaten the glass."

  "That won't do anything. You proved it."

  "Yes, but I made that demo to Bryan. Joseph Prescot apparently doesn't know about it. He doesn't have an engineering degree. His is in accounting of all things. He was the one pushing paranoia on the dome, and apparently it wasn't just to hinder us. He doesn't like the environment and is afraid of it, and he'll have more reason to."

  "That fits him," she said. "He always was more figure oriented than technical, and not much for judging people, either. So they're not armed with firearms?"

  "Some shotguns, with reduced loads."

  Aramis cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's not going to breach body armor, but it will mess up a brain if they get lucky."

  "There's also a lot of them," Caron said.

  To that, Aramis shrugged. "They're not that good."

  "Are you sure?"

  Aramis said, "Yes."

  She looked wide-eyed for a moment, and Alex spoke.

  "Here's how it works," he said. "There are possibly three companies who could find operators to match Ripple Creek. They wouldn't take a job like that, because it smells. We're bodyguards, not strike-breaking thugs for hire. There are about five more companies who'd look at it, and realize that they don't want to fight us, because we are that good. Their own operators would refuse to engage. They'd be happy to guard your uncle, but they wouldn't dare come down looking for us. Ex Ek is one of those. So anyone he's got who's willing to tangle with us is second rate at best and needs the money enough not to be thinking."

  "There are still a lot of them," she said.

  "There are still a lot of them," he agree with a slow nod. "So we'll be going around most of them, and using the miners to tie the rest up."

  Jason put in, "What I need now, Miss, is every security code you know to every entrance and piece of equipment. Yours, your father's, your uncle's, anything. Also any codes you can get from anyone. I have all ours, but ours are obviously tagged. It still may be useful to use one here and there as a distraction."

  "I'll give you what I can," she said. "I'm sure mine are compromised."

  "They may be compromised, and still work. People are lazy like that."

  They all paused for a moment, and into the break, Elke said "I have something else."

  Alex asked, "Elke?"

  She pointed at a satchel in the corner.

  "I was able to fabricate fifty grenades. They are crude." She walked over and pulled one out. She raised it to show as she explained.

  "It's two pipe expansions with plugs at the ends, and a spring-powered striker on a section of fuse. It will burn for three seconds, then detonate. Pull this pin, release the lever, and throw. I had to use discarded fuse sections, so I couldn't test the material as a lot. Some may be as fast as two seconds. Some may push four. The filler is commercial Orbitol."

  "Er . . . how much?" Jason asked.

  "The lethal radius is about four meters. I kept it as small as I reliably could. This does not include fragmentation effects."

  "Yeah, those look like Twentieth Century crude, just with better filler, though they had better radius toward the end."

  "A radius over four meters would be bad in the confines of a tunnel or hallway."

  "Agreed. I'm impressed. I'm also going to tape those levers against possible slippage."

  "We are short on ammo," Bart said.

  "Yeah," Aramis agreed. "This calls for stealth. And explosives. And a nuke. We don't seem to have much ability to scale our actions."

  Caron looked nervous and twitchy, and her voice shook a bit as she spoke.

  "Should I address our allies? A speech to rouse them?"

  Jason said, "A speech to the miners would be great, if it would work. At best, you'll mix them all up fighting each other."

  "And worst?"

  "You'll mix them all up fighting each other, and you'll die in the process. Or turn you in."

  Ontos said, "I think it might help. If you're okay with it, I can bring a handful here. they're not yet convinced that they want to escalate from strike to armed violence, especially as worst case is the habitats get vented and they die in tragic accidents."

  "I advise against it. They'd jump at the reward."

  Caron said, "I'm not worried about money. I think I can make a competitive offer."

  Alex looked very tense.

  "Well, we do need the backup. I guess worst case is we move up our schedule and kill everyone involved."

  Bart restrained a grin. Caron and Ontos both flinched at that. Then they looked at each other, with the mercenaries being the outsiders.

  "I'll risk it," she said.

  Chapter 26

  The next morning by clock, Ontos headed out and came back with five other men. With everyone crowded into his cave, it was tight, warmer and a bit humid and rank. They were all well-sweaty and their clothes covered in hard labor.

  Caron was in the back on the rock shelf, with a hooded poncho concealing her. The men—they were all men—noticed her, and Elke as female, and checked the rest of the team over, presumably as potential threats.

  She was nervous as hell, but there was nothing to be gained by delay.

  She threw her hood back.

  "Yes, it's me," she said at once.

  There were exclamations and a couple of brisk profanities.

  "I'm alive. I'm trusting you not to turn me in for the reward, as Ontos has trusted me not to reveal what I've learnt."

  It got noisy fast, with five conversations at once.

  Ontos said, "Quiet," and they shut up at once. They did respect him.

  Caron said, "According to company books, the lowest paid worker here clears a hundred G. I realise that's not the case. All I can say is, I'm sorry for that, and I will fix it.

  "My dear, beloved uncle," she sounded quite as spiteful and angry as she felt, "arranged to kill my father and wants to kill me. If he does, he owns this planet. This is the man who's been running things the past two years. You will not get a better bargain from him."

  Nods all around, though some were a bit perfunctory. Still, they were listening to reason.

  "So what do we get from you? And how can we trust you?" one asked.

  "I want revenge for my father. I don't care about the moral high road. I want that fucker dead. Nor do I particularly care for being so rich I have to have guards in my toilet. I would like some remote semblance of a normal existence. I also think it's disgraceful and embarrassing to treat the help like that, and I've been working down here the last three weeks. I have some appreciation of what's involved."

  "So give us some money now. Prove it."

  "I don't have any money now."

  "Yeah, a bit awkward that, isn't it? How's it feel to be without assets?" He scratched his hair and leant against the wall.

  "I have well-trained bodyguards, a weapon I know how to use, a degree in engineering, a detailed knowledge of this mine and the technology running it, a good grasp of the business involved and I own the company. I have a couple of temporary setbacks, but I'm not without assets. I'm also agreeable to sh
aring those assets. The only way you get to be part of that is to help me. My uncle won't share. No stockholders will want to."

  "So, you want us to get you into the dome, and then what?"

  Bart said, "Then we kill anyone who gets in our way, take her to the office, and lock everything down up there. Miss Prescot resumes control and improves your conditions."

  "It's that easy?"

  "I did not say easy. We will make it work, though."

  One man, chewing what was hopefully tobacco and not khat said, "Allah, if it kills a few of those corporate filth, I approve." He looked Bart up and down. If anyone looked like a legbreaker, it was Bart.

  The lead one asked, "So what's in it for us?"

  "Much better pay. At least one thousand percent. And more benefits. Continual improvement of living conditions as the mine expands."

  "We just take your word on that?" he asked, casually but with a challenging smirk.

  "Yes," she said.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  "As I told Ontos, the company has never breached an actual contract signed here. I understand my uncle lied in his recruiting, but the contract signed here, as horrific as it was, was held to."

  "Sure, but I have to believe you're going to hold to one much less favorable to you?"

  "How many trillions of Marks do you think I really need?" she asked, sounding disgusted.

  "Well, you're claiming it will be less than your uncle, but we only have his example to go from."

  "So I'll toss in a down payment."

  "That's interesting," he said, and there was a buzz around the others, too. "What's that?"

  "If you help me, anything you can carry off from the hotels is yours. Take the interactive, the vids, the bedding, the art, anything from the casinos. I'll replace it from our accounts afterward."

  "Trinkets, basically."

  "Do you think those trinkets won't make your miners happy?"

  "True," he said. "What about cash for us?"

  "What about bullion for you?" she returned.

  "That's fascinating."

  She turned and pulled a small purse from under her pile, opened it and slid out several flat bars, and tossed one to him.

  He looked at the proof marks through the plastic cover.

  "Rhodium??" he shouted in a whisper.

  "Thirty grams each. There's more where that came from." She'd judged that correctly. The miners saw ore and process. They never saw finished metal, certainly not the precious stuff. Only the upper castes saw that.

  One said, "I don't care to be bribed. I'll take the money, but I do expect everyone will be treated accordingly."

  "I'll pay everyone what they're worth, really worth, for the skills and the environment. I can tell you the wages we'd set were five times what everyone has been getting. That was the startup wage. I'm sorry we weren't here sooner."

  "So, more money and we get to smash things?"

  "Within reason," she said. "Those things and the customers bring in the income that pays you. I have no problem replacing the bric a brac, but you have to breathe the fumes if you burn anything, and if you scare off the customers, you suffer. And I will prosecute for bodily harm or assault. My customers are not worth less to me than you. They're just a source of revenue, rather than trusted workers. Make sure you stress that to the utmost. Any rapists will be tossed into the pit without respirators. Ditto for murderers."

  "That's fair," Ontos said from the side. The others nodded and mumbled.

  Ontos prodded with, "So, everyone agrees? Help create a distraction for our rightful employer, get some extra money and loot, don't scare the customers too much, and wind up with much better working conditions?"

  "Yes." "Sure." "Right." "Agreed."

  The initial stage was easy enough, Caron thought. She'd actually grown comfortable with Ontos' tunnel and cave, though she hoped never to eat worm meat again. She could do without the wall porn, too.

  Out here, though, was empty tunnel she knew was safe. Ahead it turned into mine facilities that weren't.

  She understood that they needed to move as a group, and that that was dangerous. She also knew she was supposed to act casual, disinterested and just blend into the scenery. She was failing at that, sweating and almost shivering in stress.

  At the huge elevator, they waited with a few others. It wasn't shift change or they'd be crammed and constricted. There weren't enough to require more than one trip here. Still, operations ran constantly and there were a lot of people running up and down.

  When the door opened, Aramis shoved her ahead and into the back corner, out of sight. The team was far less recognizable than she, though Uncle Joe had probably circulated pictures of all of them. Still, with hats and a bit of grubbiness, and weapons stuffed into tool bags and the surplus backpacks everyone used to carry their environment gear, no one looked twice, except to notice that Elke was female.

  Elke had also zipped her jacket so her boobs were framed. Caron snickered to herself and relaxed marginally. Men would see chest and not face. Her own jacket was loose over a snug bra, and she was out of direct sight.

  They stopped at almost every level, with workers coming in and out, and some management. No one gave them a look.

  She calmed down somewhat by the time they reached surface level, and headed out. However, a group of eight was bound to be noticed sooner or later. Elke took care of that by moving ahead with Bart and Ontos.

  They entered a side tunnel that she recalled from the plans. It was an emergency bypass for the section. Jason ran a device into the lock, which she presumed was a coder to pick it. Nothing happened.

  "Well, that's disturbing," he said casually. He pulled out a couple of tools, plumbed into the lines, and did something that caused smoke, but the door opened.

  "They're probably going to detect that," he said.

  "Noted," Alex replied. "Weapons out."

  Caron pulled the long sleeve off her bow and quiver and slung the quiver. There wasn't much room, and she bumped against the others as they drew guns. She noticed, though, that none of the muzzles came anywhere near her. These people knew what they were about.

  The corridor was supposed to be clear for emergencies, and just wide enough for one of the smaller dollies. Instead, it was filthy, cluttered and awkward to navigate. She made a mental note to have that fixed. It was sloppy and dangerous.

  They'd gone a hundred meters and reached a broader area that led to an emergency lock and some entrance to the inside, when clatters and shouts erupted all around them. She blinked, and realized there were suddenly a lot more people in the area, armed and armored.

  Ontos was next to her. All he had was the cargo strap. Instantly, he snapped out the clip end in a flat throw that bounced off a man's face shield and dropped over his weapon. A flip of his arm in a loop and a yank, and the man stared stupidly at the carbine on the ground in front of him. The return swing arced up and tangled in his harness, a loop flipped around his neck, and Ontos heaved and smash-kicked him in the head.

  As thugs closed in, he threw the whole coil at the next man, and it spread into a tangling web that caught his feet and weapon. That gave Elke time to shove Caron back, and Aramis and Bart time to move forward.

  Caron had seen martial arts. She had never seen a melee battle like this. Bart was a big, mean brawler who went in with fists, boots and the wrecking bar. Aramis was fluid, graceful and almost as strong. He shifted in a dance of arms and legs. Elke was small in comparison, though not small for a woman, and seemed to just stomp her way through, moving right into people's faces with a stern look and swinging knees and elbows. Shaman looked like a classical boxer with a big knife in one hand. Alex next to her kept shooting even at point blank range, the reports hammering the air and her ears. Jason on the other side was mechanically efficient. He caught an arm, twisted, shoved, stomped and yanked, and a man was broken in four places, screaming in agony until Jason's boot crushed down on his skull with an egg-cracking sound. She cringed.
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  That just left Ontos with his cargo strap around a thrashing man's neck, straining back as his victim gurgled and turned purple and flailed and then went limp.

  The whole engagement had taken ten seconds. Caron hadn't even responded.

  Jason and Shaman ran their hands over her again, Jason said, "You're fine," and then Shaman said, "Elke, you're bleeding."

  "Of course I am," she said, and extended her left arm as she heaved for breath, looking flushed. The pain didn't seem to affect her much, but the exertion was obvious.

  She had a deep gash inside the wrist. Shaman sprayed a sealant, Jason twisted a dressing over it, rolled two loops and tied it off. She opened her mouth and he popped in two pills while Shaman poked a subcutaneous needle in with some kind of local anesthetic. She stayed standing and barely winced through the procedure.

  Bart and Aramis checked the door, Alex had the rear with Ontos, and at a nod, they moved forward.

  "No regrouping?" she asked.

  Aramis said, "We are regrouped, and they're surprised, about to be on the defensive. Once you have the advantage, you press it."

  Twenty meters later, they reached a turn and another door.

  "Elke, open the door please."

  Elke skipped lightly forward now, was hampered a little by her fingers, which seemed to have been numbed by the anesthetic; she fumbled slightly, but in moments had something small stuffed in and around where the lock bar was on this type of door. She made one adjustment, seemed to bound back three meters instantly, and said, "FireInTheHole." She pressed a button and something that sounded like a cross between a bass drum and a loud firework made the door jump in its frame.

  Caron raised her bow with a nocked arrow as Bart strode forward, raised his leg, powered up and kicked it. The panel bounced, bent and flew open. He stepped back, Aramis and Shaman swarmed through, Elke third, Alex shoved Caron, and she gasped in nervousness and excitement, blood hammering in her ears.

  Two more doors yielded without explosive, and then they came to the section bulkhead.

  Elke moved forward, took a quick glance, and raised a hand. Jason slung his carbine and ran up. The two talked and gestured for a moment, then Jason pointed and made a sign.