Stone piloted the hover toward a giant concrete and steel structure. The hover mated itself to a docking ring near the building's roof. The governor and marshal stepped from the hover into a large office. Swan's feet sank into the deep blue carpeting. An air conditioner ran, making him grateful for his jacket. Several valuable but uncomplimentary paintings hung on the walls. Stone sat down behind a large wooden desk; its edge was inlaid with gold. A jade-colored computer terminal surrounded by a number of valuable baubles sat atop the desk. Stone indicated a plush red chair. Swan sat, sinking so that his eyes were below Stone's.
"Impressive, ain't it?" Stone's smile shone brightly as ever. Swan nodded, more out of a sense of duty than agreement. "Sufiro is a wealthy place and I'm glad you're here to share the wealth."
"I'm here to maintain the law." Swan's voice sounded hollow in the large room.
"Indeed you are!" boomed Stone. "Tejo is one of the wealthiest places in the known galaxy. Do you know why we're so wealthy?" Swan nodded, but Stone continued anyway. "We are wealthy because we supply almost half the Erdonium necessary to build all of the EQ ships in the galaxy! You know what that means, son?" Swan started to answer but Stone cut him off. "Wealth breeds jealousy. Especially the jealousy of our closest neighbor, if you know what I mean."
Swan thought of the note in his breast pocket. "Do you mean the New Granadans have been causing trouble?" The marshal was amazed that he slipped a sentence in.
"Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not prejudiced. But wherever Grenades show up, there's trouble." Stone folded his arms.
"Grenades, sir?" Swan cocked his eyebrow.
"Grenades. You know—New Granadans. They're damned explosive over there." Stone leaned forward. "We hired you because you're the best. You're a good cop and you can lead people in a fight."
"You make it sound like you're expecting war."
"I wouldn't call it war," Stone sneered. "The New Granadans are too pitiful for that." He sat back and grinned. Swan found his computer eye analyzing the cut of the diamond in Stone's mouth. "I expect, at most, a few skirmishes."
"Senseless violence makes me squeamish."
Stone laughed. "What about violence with a purpose?"
"Sometimes it's an unavoidable part of my job."
The governor eyed Swan closely. "Just as long as you don't lose your lunch at a critical moment."
"Would it be possible to see my office?" Swan asked tentatively, anxious to change the subject.
"I like that!" Stone winked. "A man who's ready to get right down to business." He stood and led Swan through the door and down a long corridor. They turned a corner and faced a sliding door. On it was a sign that read, "Edmund R. Swan, Marshal, Republic of Tejo."
Swan stepped through the door. Though the office was bare, it was almost as big as Stone's. He said a silent prayer of thanks when Stone excused himself to attend to other business.
Swan seated himself behind the desk and activated the computer terminal. Several messages were waiting. The first said that his baggage had been delivered to his apartment. The computer flashed a map of the apartment's location. There were several messages concerning official tours. One that caught his attention was a tour of the mining operation. He instructed the computer to arrange the tour for early the following week. Finally, there were reports of several ongoing police investigations. He read them and marked his approval of how they were proceeding.
After reading the messages, Swan sat back, feeling tired. He decided the best thing to do would be to introduce himself to his deputies then retreat to his apartment where he could get some well deserved sleep.
* * * *
As the first week progressed, Edmund Swan adjusted to his new job. Initially, Tejo City disappointed him. It was too large, too foreboding. The sky was already turning the same shade of orange as that on Earth. He found, however, that the Tejans had preserved several of the natural areas around the city. During the week, Swan found time to visit one of the parks on a mountain with clean air. The trees looked like pine trees, except they smelled different and the "needles" didn't break off; they were more like rubber. Swan was reminded of Earth's succulent plants. The park proved quite pleasant. Among the trees, it was even possible not to see Tejo City.
Marshal Swan found that the people of Tejo were rather pleasant, once he got used to their manner. His deputies seemed loyal and honest. Some were a little para-militaristic, but that was to be expected in a culture that was virtually obsessed with law and order. What pleased Swan most, though, was that there had been no homicide calls during his entire first week.
On the first day of his second week, Swan arrived at his office right at sunrise. Checking the computer, he found that he was scheduled for the mine tour. He smiled to himself, looking forward to a distraction from the rather dull routine of being a Tejan marshal.
That afternoon, Swan followed a tour guide down an impressive tunnel. The walls were smooth and steps had been carved in the ground, making the descent quite easy. As the guide led him through a set of double doors, Swan felt a cool draft. The mine would have been naturally cool, but the digging equipment heated it. Tejans, using their famous ingenuity, developed a way to air-condition the mines.
The miners worked with laser drills and loaded the tailings into robot carts. As they walked, the guide talked about the pleasant working conditions and spoke in meaningless detail about how Erdonium was removed from the rock. As the guide spoke, something seemed wrong to Swan. The marshal examined the guide with his computer eye but his physiological responses were normal—indicating no discomfort with the information he was delivering. Still, Swan felt uneasy. At college, he had taken a mining course—the only elective available at the time. Though he only barely passed the class, a faint spark of a memory told him that something was wrong with the mine.
As they walked, Swan noticed a point where another tunnel descended to a lower level and he realized what was bothering him. On most planets, Erdonium was found quite deep under the surface. The level that Swan toured was not deep enough to produce Erdonium; there was too much sedimentary rock. Swan asked the guide what the miners he saw were producing.
"Very perceptive of you, sir," said the guide with a pedantic grin. "On the upper levels we mine gold, silver, and other metals."
Swan shrugged. "Well, can we see the Erdonium operation?"
The guide chuckled. "As you must know, sir, Erdonium has to be blasted from the surrounding rock. It's not safe for a tourist to visit the lower levels. Only miners are allowed down there."
As the guide spoke, Swan thought he heard something. When the guide finished, he was certain. He heard screams. As the marshal ran back to the point where the tunnel descended to the lower levels, the screaming grew more distinct. Starting to descend, he felt someone grab his arm.
"You can't go down there," said the guide. "There's probably been an accident. We have trained medical personnel."
"I'm an officer of the law," said Swan. "It's my duty to respond to emergencies!"
The guide held on, trying to drag Swan back up the steps. Swan threw a punch knocking the guide into the wall. Looking at the guide, he wondered why he had tried so hard to stop him. The screams resumed. Swan ran down the stairs.
He descended quite deep into the mine. The screams echoed all around him in the narrow tunnel. When the stairs ended the light was dimmer and the stagnant air was stifling. Swan made his way carefully down the narrow corridor. Finally, he arrived at the outlet. The sight that greeted him caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. One of Swan's deputy marshals, a man named Dodge, was holding a device known as a disciplinarian. It was a four-foot transparent rod with a handgrip. It could be used to inflict pain to any part of the human body. The principle was taken from a device used to herd cattle on twentieth-century Earth. Dodge stood over a whimpering man with long, dark hair and dirty, tattered clothes.
"What the hell is going on here?" demanded Swan. "Why aren't you at your patrol
station?"
Dodge shrugged. "The Erdonium mines are my patrol station."
Swan pointed at the disciplinarian. "That's not standard issue. Drop it."
"So what if it's not standard issue. I need it to enforce the law."
"Enforcing the law does not mean torturing helpless citizens!"
"What do you mean by 'citizen?' This ain't no citizen of Tejo. He's from New Granada." Dodge waved the
disciplinarian at Swan.
"Put that damned thing down!" Swan unsnapped his holster and gritted his teeth. Dodge was a friend of Sam Stone. Wounding him could mean trouble.
"Make me put it down." Dodge moved toward Swan.
The marshal drew his hepler pistol but Dodge continued forward, pointing the disciplinarian at his superior. A small crowd of New Granadans gathered around. Swan fired the pistol. The beam of red light struck the disciplinarian. It exploded and Dodge fell backward, hitting the ground. Swan knelt beside his deputy. Covered in blood, his face was almost unrecognizable. The marshal ran to the opposite wall and vomited into a crevice. He rose up on his knees, then fell back into a sitting position then wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"Señor," said one of the New Granadans. "You have saved us from the Tejan's oppression."
Swan heaved a deep sigh. "It ain't over yet." The New Granadan helped the marshal to his feet. "How is your friend?"
Another New Granadan knelt by the man on the ground. "He's hurt pretty bad, but he'll live."
Swan balanced himself on the wall. "We need to get you out of here."
He helped carry the downed man up the tunnel. Burdened as they were, the ascent took almost half an hour. The tour guide was gone but a number of Tejan miners were gathered by the entrance.
Swan and the New Granadan placed the wounded man on the ground. The marshal drew his hepler and pointed it at the group gathered at the entrance. "You men clear out of here."
"You're in a lot of trouble, man," said one of the miners.
"Who do you think you are?" shouted another miner. "Savior of the Grenades!"
"Clear out!" shouted Swan. His grip on the hepler pistol tightened.
One of the miners started to move toward Swan. His computer eye narrowed. Faster than thought, a bolt of energy from the gun struck the man down. Nausea gripped the marshal's body but he fought to keep control.
The Tejans' attention was on their dead colleague. "Let's get 'im!" shouted one. "He's crazy, he'll kill us!" shouted another. In the confusion, Swan rushed the line. The New Granadans followed. Despite the weight of their compatriot, the chance for freedom was too compelling for the New Granadans to slow down. Three of the miners chased after them.
Swan cursed the low brush covering the ground. The New Granadans ran, kicking up a large amount of dust. The Tejan miners quickly closed the small gap that existed.
The marshal spotted a tall bush and dived behind it. He motioned for the New Granadans to continue running. One New Granadan followed Swan behind the bush. He recognized him as the man he had first spoken to in the mine; the one that had pronounced Swan a savior.
Swan nodded at the man, then turned his attention to the three approaching Tejans. His eye estimated distance and projected a target that followed the motion of his gun. He fired and hit one of the Tejans in the leg, causing him to fall to the ground with a scream.
The other two dropped to the ground. One started crawling toward their position. Swan could see the brush move, but he couldn't see the miner. The marshal cursed and fired at the movement. The movement in the brush stopped.
A branch of the bush Swan was hiding behind disappeared. The marshal realized that the remaining miner had a hepler pistol. Fortunately, neither the miner nor the pistol was computer-enhanced. Swan looked around, not seeing the remaining miner.
The New Granadan looked at Swan. "I could draw his fire."
Swan shook his head then indicated the scorched, smoldering spot in the grass a few yards away. "That's what that guy was trying. You saw how far it got them."
"But you have computer-enhanced eyes," protested the New Granadan.
Swan shook his head. "That tactic was being used long before computer eyes. You'll only get yourself killed."
The New Granadan nodded. "I wish there was something I could do."
"You could tell me your name."
"I am Juan Bautista Raton." Another branch vanished from the bush. Swan and Raton flinched.
"He's inexperienced." Swan nodded in the direction of the laser fire. "We'll get out of this."
After about ten minutes, the miner grew impatient. He started to move toward Swan's hiding place. Swan stood and fired. The miner dove out of the way then fired a shot. Swan's computer eye followed the pulsed beam. He fired. A scream came from the direction of the brush. Swan stood. No shots came toward him. He walked over to the smoldering grass. There was a body with no head.
Swan collapsed to the ground, nausea getting the better of him. After several minutes, Juan Raton helped him to his feet. "You are a good man, señor. Unfortunately, you are in as much danger here as we are."
"I'm afraid you're probably right," said Swan. "But what can we do?"
"If you can lead us to Roanoke we can get home on a Gato Freighter." Juan smiled. "I think my brother would like to meet you."
"You are Manuel Raton's brother?" Swan blinked several times.
"I am indeed," said Juan.
"Then let's not keep him waiting." Edmund Swan was ready to talk to Manuel Raton. He knew the truth of Sufiro's World.
* * * *
The small band traveled through the mountains toward Roanoke. The rugged terrain shielded them from Tejan sensory equipment. When spotted, they looked like a heard of Tejan mountain beasts. During the trip, the man who had been wounded in the mines began to recover. Once he was able to walk, the trek went faster. Beyond the mountains was the desert. Though they had stocked up on water from mountain streams, the walk was long and treacherous. Fortunately, they were on Roanoke soil and immune from Tejan prosecution if not Tejan vengeance.
Two days later, they saw the coastline. Juan Raton and Swan sat down on a rock to rest. "Tell me," said the marshal. "How did your brother come to be known as 'The Rat?'"
"It's our name, Edmund." Raton smiled. "In the old Earth language we speak, 'ratón' means rat or mouse."
"But is that the whole story?"
"No. The rest of the story involves a gun battle." Juan scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Manuel caught a Tejan rounding up some of our people to take to the mines. Manuel always said he should have shot the bastard, but he took him to jail instead."
"Why kidnap New Granadans? After all, there are plenty of people to work the mines. It makes no sense." Swan's brow furrowed.
"It started out as voluntary migrant labor," explained Raton. "When no one volunteered, the Tejans began 'recruiting' volunteers. It keeps the price of Erdonium low, so no one asks too many questions."
Swan nodded, understanding but saddened. "Please go on with your story."
"Well, the Tejans didn't like the fact that their compadre had been thrown in jail. They sent twenty people through the Camlan Pass in northwestern New Granada to get him out. Manuel holed up like a rat and held them off with a hepler pistol and two energy packs."
Swan shook his head in amazement. "Well, I look forward to meeting him." The marshal looked up at the sky. "Unfortunately, though, we won't see him if we don't get moving."
* * * *
Three days later, Edmund Swan found himself sitting in a small adobe house. The aroma of chilies and garlic cooking swirled about him. He had been living around automated food dispensers for so long, he forgot how delightful the smells of cooking could be. In his hand, he held a home-brewed beer. His host called it a "cerveza." The marshal was still getting used to the anachronistic use of the Spanish language.
Swan's host stepped through from the kitchen. He placed a plate of enchiladas on the table in front of the marshal. "This looks
heavenly," said Swan, his mouth watering. He had eaten little—in fact, had little opportunity to eat—in the past seven days.
"Be careful," came the calm, deep voice of his host. Swan had already taken a large mouthful of the enchilada. His eyes bugged out and sweat beaded on his forehead. Swan's host sat down and grinned.
"Is this why they call you 'The Rat?'" Swan finally croaked
out.
"Drink your cerveza," said Sheriff Manuel Raton. Raton was
five-foot seven with a stocky build. His hair was short and
black. His dark brown eyes were almost as dark as his hair. "I
cook with a local pepper. It's as hot as a habanero, with all
the flavor of New Mexican green chile."
Swan wiped the sweat off his brow. "You could have
warned me."
"I did," said Raton, taking a bite of his own dinner. "Both
times."
Swan and Raton ate in silence for several minutes. "You
know," said Swan. "This ain't half bad once you get used to
the heat."
"Sufiro is like that," said Raton. "It's a very good place to
live. It's beautiful in its own way. Unfortunately, the Tejans
make it painful."
"Is everything you cook a metaphor?" Raton shrugged his
shoulders at the question. Swan took another mouthful of
food. "New Granada was the first continent settled, wasn't it?" Raton sat back. "Yes. A traveler who needed refuge
founded Sufiro. Ellison Firebrandt, who found this planet, had
little more than a broken-down ship and a handful of
provisions. He had some gold, but what good is gold on a
planet with no people?" Raton took another bite and then
gestured with his fork. "New Granada became a symbol of
hope for people with little left. People found that if they
worked hard, they could live proudly here." Raton leaned
forward. "When I was young, Sam Stone's father came. Like
the rest of us, he was looking for a new beginning. He
The Pirates of Sufiro (Book 1) (Old Star New Earth) Page 18