‘The place is very empty today,’ February commented softly. She eyed the papers on the desk, worrying that they might contain information that they wouldn’t want the herd to get hold of, but she relaxed when she saw they were only related to the normal workings of the holotheater.
‘Most of our people are at home. They want to see our people give this upstart Slim a good kicking for his trouble. Unfortunately that doesn’t seem to be happening; except for a few snipers, he’s met virtually no resistance since he arrived in Sou’nd. Still, we hit him hard on the way, thanks to you. I don’t think he can win the propaganda war anymore. Then, of course, there were your warnings. I’ve told people that until this current crisis is over they should only come here if it’s vital. When this is all over you’re going to be some kind of hero.’
‘Me, a hero?’ February was more than a little shocked, and one look at Kitty showed that she was thinking the same thing. ‘What does any of this have to do with me?’
‘That bomb you brought in the other day. I passed on the information and the bomb to others, and I think they were able to copy the device. We don’t have the sort of resources required to mass-produce a thing like that, but I think they made a dozen or so. They were used recently by the forces led by the Patriarch against the convoy.’
‘The Patriarch got involved?’ If she was surprised before, she was astonished now. ‘I must’ve missed that bit.’
‘We hit them hard thanks to you,’ Stenhas repeated. ‘We aren’t sure they’re powerful enough to disable a tank, and they only had a limited supply. We can’t stop them from destroying Sou’nd.’
February nodded. She looked at Kitty, who seemed to be paying attention but at the same time trying her best not to. Poor Kitty. All this talk of death and destruction, and she, not that long ago, had been forced to live among the herd. It must have been a terrible strain on her conscience to hear two Herbaht talk so happily about the damage done to the convoy. February decided to change the subject. ‘So all your services and security seems to have vanished,’ February complained.
‘Afraid so,’ Stenhas said indifferently. ‘There's only Huttugh and me still here to guard the place. I don’t know how I’d manage without Huttugh; he stands over there at that door and watches it like a hawk. When anyone wants to enter, it’s he who goes to the security room to release the doors. He’s a marvel.’
‘How does he know if someone’s waiting to come in?’ Kitty asked; she seemed more into the conversation now that the subject had moved away from death.
‘Oh,’ Stenhas commented with a laugh in his voice, ‘he has a small monitor with him that’s linked directly to the main one in the computer room. We set that up last year as a backup system in case anything did happen. Though if the soldiers do decide to attack now, there aren’t many of us to defend the place.’
‘Can’t be helped,’ February said. ‘At least most of our people will be safe. I want you to be safe too. I think you should spend more time at home, or at least in the office, away from this room.’
Stenhas shook his head and told her, ‘I can’t escape. They can find out easily that I’m the owner of this holotheater. They’d want to know why I allowed a Herbaht regional headquarters to be set up here. As soon as they questioned me, they’d know. You see, I’ve already been through the scene several times in my head. Far better, I think, to go down with the ship.’
February sighed. Why did everyone she loved want to die fighting? Well, she supposed he was right. If they found this place, they’d know he was Herbaht, and it would be harder for him to just vanish than her.
‘Why can you not convert it back to being a holotheater?’ This came from Kitty. ‘Perhaps you might convince the soldiers this place has never been a headquarters.’
‘It wouldn’t work,’ February told her. ‘The tracking devices found in the rifles are enough to name this place. Even if its function was to be changed back, there are thousands of witnesses who could claim that this room has always been closed to the public.’
Kitty nodded sadly. ‘And they might have a spy satellite watching the comings and goings of this place.’
‘Perhaps,’ agreed February.
‘So,’ Stenhas said, drastically changing the subject again, ‘what can I do for you?’
‘Well,’ February said, ‘there are two things, really. Kitty and I are leaving for Mars in a day or two. Kitty needs a passport.’
‘Leaving for Mars?’ Stenhas seemed a little surprised. ‘Not going to stay with us to fight the good fight?’
‘The good fight won’t miss me,’ February told him.
‘I think you’d be one of our better fighters,’ Stenhas told her. ‘I mean, after all you’ve done for us I don’t think anyone will really begrudge you the right to go where you feel you need to. But we’ll miss you.’
‘I doubt it,’ February replied. She might be okay at night when hunting, but in a real battle she doubted her abilities. ‘Besides, I never did take orders that well.’
‘Well,’ Stenhas commented, ‘I won’t force you to stay and fight with us, and it’s possible you might be of more value to us starting a new front on Mars. However, Conrad, our usual forger, isn’t here, so I don’t think we can help you.’
February seemed crestfallen for the moment. Their plans to get to Mars would count for nothing if Kitty didn’t have a passport. They wouldn’t be able to go. ‘I guess we’d better be heading out, then.’
‘Hold on a second,’ Stenhas said, seemingly lost in thought. ‘I’m not sure if it will help, but I can get you my passport. If they aren’t too observant you might be able to fool them with it at the check-in desk. Just don’t use one of the automated ones!’
‘Why not?’ Kitty asked.
‘Your thumbprint is likely to be somewhat different than Stenhas’,’ February told her. ‘As it is, I think security during a state of war is going to be too high for us to get away with it, but it might be better than nothing.’
‘Well, we are going to head north a little first,’ Kitty commented.
‘Shouldn’t make a difference as to how well they check your passport,’ February replied.
‘Look,’ Stenhas butted in, ‘okay, look, I can give you Conrad’s home address, but don’t tell him where you got it from, okay?’
February looked at him for a moment, astounded. With the threat as it was, all the records of who lived where should have been destroyed. It was good that she and Kitty now had a lead as to where to go to get a passport, but she couldn’t help wondering whether or not she had ever told Stenhas her home details, not that it mattered so much now that she had moved out. She decided not to dwell on it. Stenhas must know what he was doing. ‘If he has the equipment to do a good job,’ February said a moment later.
‘Well, we don’t keep his stuff here,’ Stenhas replied. He ripped a piece off of one of the papers on the table. Then with a little bit of effort, since he had no spare hand to hold the paper steady, he wrote the address down.
‘I guess we’d better make a move, then. Thanks for everything, and I hope to see you again soon,’ February told him.
‘When we both dwell in the arms of the Goddess,’ Stenhas replied.
February nodded once, taking the proffered paper, and then got up, turning to leave. Kitty was tugging at her shoulder as she did, though. ‘What about the warning?’ she insisted.
‘There’s no one here to warn,’ February said sadly, ‘and if I understand correctly, no one will be here before it’s too late. There’s nothing we can do.’
‘We could tell Stenhas,’ Kitty whined. ‘Even if no one else came here to get the message from him, we can at least try.’
‘You’re probably right,’ February told her. ‘It’s unlikely to get too far, but we must at least try.’
‘We could warn Conrad as well,’ Kitty added, ‘once we find him.’
February returned to the seat she had recently vacated. Again, she imparted Kitty’s thoughts on the real re
ason why the assault on Sou’nd was so well advertised for a good thirty hours before the attack itself.
Stenhas listened carefully and even made one or two notes. When February finished, which wasn’t too long, he said, ‘Well, I’m not sure what we can do. We’ll warn everyone we can, but it’s hardly likely to get around to everyone within a week, and that might be too long. As for passing it on to other headquarters, I really can’t say. We’ll do what we can.’
‘At least we tried,’ Kitty commented.
‘Indeed,’ Stenhas told her, ‘and if this was any other time I’d be glad to have you among our numbers. I think you’ll be very helpful to Febby on Mars. You have a good head on your shoulders, even if you are of domesticated stock.’
‘Thank you,’ Kitty blushed.
‘Look, Febby,’ he said, ‘I’ve been thinking, and I want you to have them. When you go back into the security room you’ll find a small desk with three drawers. In the top drawer you’ll find about a thousand pills that can be taken as a replacement for herd meat. I thought you might be able to use them.’
‘Pills? You were stockpiling pills?’ February seemed more than a little surprised at this.
‘I’m not much of a hunter since I lost my arm and my eye,’ Stenhas explained, ‘and my wife was killed nearly twenty years ago. True, for the most part I’ve lived on the kills that have been brought in exchange for our services. But those that supply those services should always get the first choice. Besides, not everyone likes to live on the herd meat. I’ve been taking them as a supplement to the meat. Others take them all the time, won’t even touch herd meat. We cater for both here.’
‘But the docility drug!’ February implored.
‘No,’ Stenhas replied. ‘These are not herd-made pills. We have a little factory that churns them out in Sou’nd. Or at least we did. They’re made the same way, the same ingredients, vitamins and minerals that the herd pills have, but they have one vital difference. They lack the docility part.’
‘Why have I never heard of them before?’ February insisted.
‘Why should you?’ Stenhas commented. ‘As our race has grown, finding herd meat has been harder and harder. They aren’t stupid. They protect themselves, and we lose many hunters every night to the armed patrols, as well as to prey that weren’t as helpless as the hunters had first thought they were. The pill is a less dangerous alternative. Except it doesn’t keep our people trained in those hunting skills that we’re finding so necessary right now.’
‘I wish I’d known, all the same,’ February explained; ‘something like that might’ve been useful to know.’
‘We didn’t like to encourage it,’ Stenhas told her. ‘Sometimes someone would hear from someone else taking them, or someone might come and ask us if there was an alternative. In most cases, though, we caught them getting the herd-made pills for themselves, so we supplied them with our safer version instead. There was no need for you to know. You hunted regularly and were thus honing your skills. It would’ve been a shame to blunt those skills through disuse as so many of our people have.’
‘The soldiers are going to walk right through us,’ February said.
Stenhas shook his head. ‘We have the Matriarch and the Patriarch, and their battle skills are not dulled.’
‘Why tell me about the pills now?’ February insisted; now wasn’t the time to get into a theological discussion.
‘Simple,’ Stenhas explained, ‘Mars is a very carefully watched place. The corridors are well lit, and all major paths have cameras watching everyone’s movements. You won’t get too much hunting done there.’
‘Sounds awful,’ February replied.
‘You’re welcome to stay with us and fight the herd,’ Stenhas offered.
Kitty’s expression changed to one of being afraid and perhaps a little startled at the idea.
‘I feel I’m letting my people down if I don’t,’ February replied, ‘but I know I’d be letting Kitty down if I don’t go and at least make sure she’s settled and safe before returning. I’m sorry, but my mind is made up. I’m going… no, we’re going to Mars.’
Stenhas bowed sadly and replied, ‘Well, if I’m still here when you get back, you’ll be welcome back.’
22
Rules Of The Game
Sult’s NS2C skirmish flyer was hovering near the northernmost pole of the target planet. With him in similar fighter craft were Simon Dunwoody, codename Lark, a sub-lieutenant from New York State, and Ursula Reese, codename Spirit, also a sub-lieutenant from Arkansas. They hovered over the pole so the natural magnetic fields of the planet would help to block their presence from detection by those on the surface.
Sult held the position of command for this small strike group because though he too ranked no higher than sub-lieutenant, he only needed one more point to be raised to full lieutenant within The Game and technically outranked the other two.
This was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission; they were here to spy on the planet and work out its defensive and offensive capabilities. This would take a long time from the pole. The magnetic field of the planet would interfere with their detection equipment as well. They had the advantage, though, in that they knew the planet was there, whereas those on the planet (hopefully) didn’t know about them.
What automatic defense systems were installed? How many defensive turrets did the place have? How many craft, if any, were actually stationed here? And was the area around the planet mined? Everything had to be checked at least twice because, from the North Pole, the magnetic field of the pole tended to create echoes. There were also many other things that could be checked while they were there, but his clan already knew most of the answers to those, such as how much income the planet was worth.
The planet Enbardo III had been in the hands of the Gnomes of Power, Sult’s own clan, as recently as two days ago. Between the two of them, the Deathdealers and the Monarchs of Chaos had been nibbling quite a few chunks out of the Gnomes’ Empire, and on this occasion it had been the Monarchs that had tried their luck.
As the information Sult had procured flooded into the data banks of his craft, he kept a watchful eye. However recently the Monarchs might have taken the planet, they did have regular patrols. And although many of these patrols would be automated, since no one liked to play The Game just to stand patrol, it was always possible that a real live pilot might be among the patrolling craft. A patrol was a fairly safe if boring way to gain a few points towards the next rank, and it wasn’t unusual to see someone doing just that because they were close to their next promotion. It was especially common for those about to make Captain, as at the rank of Captain players had access to a larger and better range of fighter craft.
‘Okay,’ Sult said over his radio as the last of the information was recorded and checked against the previous sweeps, ‘let’s go home.’
‘Confirmed,’ Simon and Ursula both replied at virtually the same time.
Sult orientated the craft away from the planet and prepared to enter light speed back to a friendly planet when something else caught his attention. In the distance, maybe half a million miles short of the planet, a large strike force had appeared.
Sult blinked twice and then got on the radio. ‘Get that information back to base. I’m going to take a closer look at those, see who they are.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Ursula responded, continuing, ‘you might need support. Simon can deliver the information himself.’
‘Why should I miss out on the fun?’ This was from Simon.
‘Someone has to get back,’ Ursula insisted.
‘Then you go,’ Simon pressed.
‘You both go,’ Sult ordered, muttering to himself under his breath about the lack of discipline of civilians. ‘I’m only going to take a look. I’m not going to engage. Now get out of here.’
‘But…’ started Ursula.
‘If I report you for failing to obey an order, you could actually lose points. Now get,’ Sult told her
.
‘Let’s go, Ursula; let the hero grandstand alone!’ Simon offered.
‘Yeah, okay,’ Ursula commented with a sigh. ‘Guess I wanted a little bit of action after sitting here for so long.’
‘Me too,’ Simon replied. A moment later he vanished in a flash of light, an unfortunately cheap-looking effect, considering how real the rest of The Game appeared. Ursula seemed to hesitate for another few moments as if considering trying to argue again, but then she too was gone.
Sult had expected Ursula to press her desire to stay harder, more than anything because as recently as a month earlier she had held the rank of Major and had actually led Sult on a few missions. She had been a good leader too, but she had lost it all when the Deathdealers ambushed her command during an escort mission. She had signed up a new character with the same call sign and rejoined the Gnomes. Already she was catching up with Sult again, but then Sult didn’t play a lot these days.
Under normal circumstances, Sult would’ve thought twice about the angle he now took as he headed at a fairly leisurely pace away from the protection of the planet’s magnetic field and towards the approaching armada. Upon seeing him, they would be scrambling all the pilots they could find to go and engage him and any other flyers that might be with him. They would want to stop him getting away with the information he had gathered. On this occasion, though, the planet was already at panic stations because they had seen the huge fleet coming their way. They were already shunting all the pilots they could into the craft that were on the ground, and the unmanned craft that were on patrol about the planet were being recalled so live pilots would be able to use them. Sult hated that part of the game. People weren’t assigned to planets; craft were, and any available pilot could miraculously be summoned to a planet to help defend it or attack another. It made sense from a gaming point of view, though. It would be no fun to stand in reserve on a planet that never saw combat, nor would a player gain many points from it.
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