Peacemaker: The Corona Rebellion 2564 AD

by Gordon Savage

  “What will you be doing?” Lois asked.

  “For starters we need to pick up supplies and schedule the wedding,” Lindsay responded.

  It was the doctor’s turn to show surprise. “A wedding? You two are getting along better than I expected.”

  “It’s cover,” Colt said. “We’re going to break into the subspace relay station to send a message.”

  “Won’t that be dangerous?” Lois asked.

  “I figure the odds of getting hurt aren’t nearly as great as being shot down by the rebel militia — or maybe that’s a bad example.”

  Colt turned back to Lindsay, “One last chance to back out. Are you sure you want to be involved? It’s my job, but you don’t need to take the risk. I don’t want to be responsible for something happening to you.”

  “I thought male chauvinism died with The Event. Wouldn’t it be more risky without me? This is my world, and I know my way around in it. I can keep you out of trouble.”

  “I’m not suggesting you can’t handle yourself, but …”

  Doctor Strauss broke in. “There’s no use in arguing, Gus. I’ve known Lindsay for twelve years, and I’ve never seen her lose an argument. You might as well give up now and save yourself some stress.” She turned to Lindsay. “When will you be going?”

  “If I can get the things I need off the web, we’ll probably be ready to go early tomorrow morning,” Colt said. He looked at Brady. “Would you mind coming back here after school for a couple of days, sport?”

  Brady beamed. “No, sir! And I’ll keep my mouth shut too.”

  Colt laughed. “Actually, it’d be better if you were just normal. Your mother and I really are going in to Sykesville to get a new irrigation pump and some other supplies and to arrange a wedding.”

  “Are you really getting married?” Brady asked.

  “That depends on how long I can stand her bratty kid,” he joked. “No, Brady, we’re not.” He wondered why the question made him tingle.

  Chapter 20

  “That’s the relay station.” Lindsay said, pointing at a building in the wall monitor. As one of the original drop-off points for settlers on Corona, Sykesville followed the classic debarkation point design. New arrivals were housed in the settlers’ dormitory until they could start homesteading on their own or build a place in town. Typically the dormitory was built in the middle of a park that had come to be called the Commons. The various support facilities such as the motor pool, local and subspace transmitters, the medical center, and the supply center were scattered around the Commons. The supply center in Sykesville had been torn down when the retail district was established. The medical center had become a full-fledged hospital and the motor pool had become a commercial garage, but the subspace relay station, a single-story structure at the north end of the Commons, remained essentially unchanged.

  Colt examined the photo. It had excellent detail, but the image was over six months old. Lindsay saw him frowning and recognized the problem. “We haven’t put any new satellite photos in the database since the insurrection started, but the last time I was there, the subspace relay building hadn’t changed at all.”

  Colt leaned back in the chair. He steepled his fingers in front of his chin before he said, “I don’t suppose any sensors the rebels have installed would be visible at this resolution anyway. The best we can do is to try to guess where they would put them based on the vegetation and the building design. I wonder―” he leaned forward and began typing out an encrypted message to Fitzhugh.

  When he finished, he leaned back again. “Well, that’s all I can do for now. Fitzhugh probably won’t reply until tomorrow night. We’d better let Lois know about the delay.”

  ###

  The next morning Colt took Brady to the school bus stop.

  “I sure am glad you’re here,” Brady said.

  Colt smiled. “Why is that?” he asked.

  “Mom really likes you. She’s been smiling a whole lot more since you came. After Dad went off to be in the navy, she quit smiling. I like it better when she smiles.”

  “I like making her smile. I wish …” Colt caught a glint of sunlight from the school bus and stopped. “Well, here comes your ride.”

  The bus settled quietly on the pad in front of them. “See you this afternoon, sport.”

  Brady got up and joined the line of kids getting on the bus. Then he broke from the line, ran back to Colt, and threw his arms around him.

  Colt returned the hug and said, “Don’t miss your bus, partner. I’ll be here this afternoon.”

  Brady ran back to the bus and climbed aboard. The driver waved at Colt, closed the door, and lifted off. Colt returned the wave. Then he stood and watched until the bus disappeared behind the orchard to the south. Smiling, he shook his head and began the hike back to the house. She likes me, he thought.

  He spent the rest of the morning making the rounds of the farm with Lindsay, checking for anything that needed repairing or replacing. The irrigation pump was in bad shape. The casing was cracked and it was drawing more air than water. He also found several places where the electronic fences had gaps. Since the horses and cattle were being kept in a physically fenced area near the house, the gaps hadn’t been a problem so far, but they would need to be closed before the animals could be let out.

  After lunch he continued checking the fences while Lindsay made veterinary visits to local farms. During the inspection he got a good look at the lake near the property. He noticed a community landing with a boathouse. Inside were half a dozen canoes and two starfish class sailboats. Before he left, he made a mental note to find out more about them.

  Back on his rounds he found a massive leak in one of the irrigation ditches. He spent over an hour shoveling dirt before he could seal the tiles back in place. When he finally trudged up to the house, he was exhausted.

  Lindsay was standing on the porch. “You look beat.”

  “Now I know why I joined the navy. Farming is a lot of work.”

  “Well, come on in and take a load off.”

  He looked at his watch. “I’ve got one more thing that needs to be done first. Tell me, are the boats in the boathouse community property or do individuals own them?”

  “Individual property. The blue canoe is ours.”

  “Great. I’m going to meet Brady.”

  ###

  As they walked home from the bus stop, Colt asked, “How would you like to take the canoe out this afternoon?”

  “All right!” Brady responded eagerly.

  “I suppose I should make sure you don’t have too much homework.”

  “I promise I can get it all done right after dinner,” Brady vowed, looking as earnest as he could manage.

  “You won’t let me down?” Colt asked, staring at him with feigned intensity.

  “No, sir.”

  “Okay, let’s drop off your books and tell your mother what we’re doing. Do you think we ought to invite her along?”

  “Naw! She has to fix dinner.”

  ###

  Colt let Brady help take the canoe out of the boathouse and carry it down to the beach to put it in the water. As Colt held the boat for Brady to get into the front, he asked, “Do you know how to paddle a canoe?”

  Brady shook his head, “I was too little before Dad left, and Mom hasn’t done any canoeing since then.”

  “Then I guess we’d better show you how.”

  Colt spent the next half hour showing Brady as much about boat safety as he could without overwhelming him. Then they took the canoe out on the lake. As they paddled around, Brady was too fascinated by the boating and the wildlife to ask any more questions about Colt and his mom. And Colt was too busy with the rowing and watching Brady to remember how tired he was.

  Finally, they headed back to the boathouse. When Lindsay came down to the shore, Brady waved so vigorously that Colt almost had to remind him not to stand up.

  “You’re a fast learner, Brady. I bet your mom will be proud of you.�
��

  Brady beamed, “Really?”

  Before Colt could answer, a blaster bolt shattered the quiet, striking the water less than ten meters away. Water exploded in a shower of heated droplets and steam. Acting instinctively, Colt rolled the boat over, throwing him and Brady into the water. He checked to make sure Brady’s life vest was keeping him afloat. Then he said softly, “Keep down and stay close to the canoe.”

  He jerked back to look toward where the shot had come from. A dark blue private flyer was coming in low from the north swerving frantically. An olive-drab military flyer followed close behind and above it. The attacking flyer fired another shot, blowing out most of the back end of the private flyer. The stricken flyer pitched over and immediately plunged into the lake, throwing up a sheet of water that engulfed Colt and Brady and carrying the flyer below the surface. The attacking flyer circled the impact point and headed back north.

  Colt shook the water from his eyes and checked on Brady. Then he caught the bow line and handed it to Brady. “Do you think you can tow the canoe to shore, Brady?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” Colt turned to shout to Lindsay. She was already wading out to help Brady. “I’m going to check for survivors,” he yelled.

  He shucked off his life vest and swam to where the flyer had gone down. Taking a deep breath, he dove beneath the surface. The crash had roiled up enough mud that he could barely see. He was almost out of air when he finally felt a hard surface. He quickly swam to the surface, grabbed another breath, and dove back to the submerged flyer.

  The canopy had ripped loose but was lying on the passenger compartment. He grabbed it and shoved it aside. He quickly found the pilot. He immediately checked the other seats. They were all empty. The pilot wasn’t moving, so Colt released his restraints and got behind him to pull him to the surface. Before he could reach the shore, Lindsay had rushed back into the water to help drag the man in.

  “My God, it’s Howard Walker!” Lindsay gasped as they lay the pilot on the grass.

  Colt began checking the man for signs of life. He found a thready pulse. “He’s still alive. Go get the van. We’ll need to get him to Lois right away.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He turned his attention to artificial respiration. Before he finished the first minute of mouth to mouth, the man had coughed violently and then threw up, almost before Colt could roll him over.

  Walker was still unconscious, but breathing, when Lindsay returned. They gently lifted him and laid him on his side in the back of the van. Colt covered him with a blanket while Lindsay raised the van and headed for Doctor Strauss’s.

  ###

  “He’s going to make it.” Lois said, stepping out onto the porch where Lindsay, Colt, and Brady waited. “He has a couple of broken ribs and a lacerated spleen, but you got him out of the water in time to keep anything serious from happening.” She wiped her hands on a towel, “So now you’re going to be a local hero.”

  Colt was sitting on the top step. He turned to look at her, but he ignored the remark. “Has he come to?”

  “Yes. You can talk to him if you want.”

  Colt rose to his feet. He walked into the house and down the hall to the bedroom Lois used as a makeshift operating room.

  Walker, a medium built man with dark brown hair and a craggy countenance, lay in bed with his back elevated so he could watch the news on the webcast. He started when Colt walked in. Then he relaxed. “You must be Gus,” he said hoarsely.

  Colt offered his hand. “The same. Doctor Strauss says you’ll be all right.”

  Walker shook the proffered hand, “Yes. Thanks for saving my life.”

  “I’m amazed you survived that crash. Why were they shooting at you?”

  Walker stiffened, “I was organizing a resistance cell in Sykesville. We got a call just before the militia broke in on our party. I managed to get back to the parking area and used a spare key to get into my flyer. I guess someone thought it was important for me not to get away.”

  Colt nodded. “The more I hear about these separatists, the more they worry me. I get the feeling that if they take over here, it won’t be just for the duration.”

  Lindsay stepped into the room. “We need to leave. Brady still hasn’t had his supper or done his homework, and Howard needs to rest.” She spoke to Walker, “Your brother’s on his way.”

  “Thanks. Nice meeting you, Gus. I owe you.”

  Lindsay caught Colt by the elbow and led him out of the room.

  Chapter 21

  An announcement came over the web: new mail for William August.

  Colt opened the message, saw that Fitzhugh had sent it, and fed it to the decryption program. Inside were several surface level shots of the relay station and a close up shot of one of the sensors. The text said that all the visible sensors were Argus Type M511. Good, reliable optical sensors that had one unadvertised fatal flaw: they could be frozen by a specific radio frequency signal. The message had a wiring diagram for a simple adapter that would allow a standard personal communicator to generate the signal.

  He cleared the decrypted material from the screen and stood up. He walked into the kitchen where Lindsay was loading the dish sanitizer. For a moment he stood looking at her, fascinated. She glanced up, wiped her hands, and stood with her hands on her hips. “You look thoughtful,” she said smiling. The implied question appeared to be, “Do you like what you’re seeing?”

  He took a second to collect himself. The smell of the fragrance she wore made it hard to think. He shook his head to clear it. “Well,” he finally answered, avoiding the real question, “I got the word back from my contact. It looks like we may have a chance, if the transmitter is still operational.”

  She continued to smile, but dropped her arms to her sides. “I would think that would be good news. Are you ready to lay out a plan? Or are we going to play this by ear?”

  “I don’t think playing it by ear will do the job. I have some ideas. Let’s go take a look at them.”

  ###

  The next morning from the air, Sykesville stood out as a rectangular patch of green. Trees, mostly mutated Earth plants, studded an outer band of homes. Inside the residential band the stores, restaurants, and other commercial buildings of the business district stood out like chess pieces. Everything centered on the Commons, a park with its own trees and Earth grasses. A network of streets and alleys dating back to when flyers weren’t common laced the business district and wandered aimlessly through the newer part of the residential area. The picture was one of small town hominess, until you noticed the armed flyers patrolling the airspace.

  As they approached from the south, Amelia warned them that it had received instructions to land at a parking area on the outskirts of town. Lindsay followed a guide beam down to what amounted to a mowed pasture with a prefabricated building on one side. An armed flyer circled overhead as she floated the van up to the building. A sign by the middle door said, “CHECK IN HERE.” She put the van on the ground in a parking space near the door. She and Colt climbed out and walked inside.

  The building had been hastily set up to process visitors. The door from the parking lot opened onto a large waiting area outfitted with plastic couches and chairs and a few web terminals scattered about. A counter ran the length of the room. Behind it were half a dozen desks, each with its own processing screen and keyboard. They walked up to the counter where a bored looking man sat watching the web news. He appeared to be the only other person in the building, but there were several offices at one end that might have been occupied. He looked up as they approached. With a sigh he casually got to his feet.

  “Sorry, folks. We have to maintain security. IDs, please.”

  Colt and Lindsay handed over their identification. The man’s eyebrows went up slightly when he saw Colt’s, but his voice didn’t change. “Purpose of your visit?”

  “To pick up supplies and arrange a wedding,” Colt answered.

  “And to have someone else cook dinner,” Lindsay ad
ded.

  The man smiled wearily and handed them two data-entry tablets. He said, “Fill these out while I process your IDs.”

  Other than the vehicle ID and purpose of the visit, the clipboards asked nothing but questions that would be answered by web queries. Colt assumed they would be looking for inconsistencies. The only question he had difficulty with was the size of his cash account at the local Republic Bank and Trust. He wrote down CR 5000, but the ID check said CR 49,987. The clerk accepted that as a simple typo. He handed them a parking permit. Then he said, “Mr. August, since your ID is temporary, if you want to go into town, you’ll have to wear this locator.” He held up a simple silver wristband.

  Colt didn’t flinch. He stuck out his right wrist for the clerk to put the bracelet on. The clerk tightened the wristband snugly and touched a sealing key to it. He glanced at a digital display on the wall. “Overnight parking is in the far lot. The shuttle will be there in ten minutes. They run every half hour. Have a nice day.” The clerk dismissed them.

  “Thanks very much. You too,” Colt said. He walked Lindsay to the door and held it open for her.

  Once they were outside, Lindsay had the good sense not to say anything because of the bracelet, but she was clearly upset. Colt took her hand and smiled. For the moment, at least, she seemed to be relieved.

  “I guess we’d better get parked and get our gear together,” Colt said. Lindsay moved the van out in ground mode and followed the markers to the parking area. The van raised a faint trail of dust as it bumped across matted, dry grass. Joining a handful of flyers parked in the long term parking area, she took the first space he came to.

  They picked up their backpacks and sealed the van. Then they walked the few meters to a shuttle stop, a sloping roof mounted on four wooden posts driven into the ground. As they walked up, a small annunciator hanging on one of the poles pronounced in a slightly mechanical voice that the shuttle would arrive in two minutes.

  Almost immediately a cloud of dust appeared near a break in the trees at the edge of the field. Moments later the shuttle itself swung into sight, trailing dust. Except for its rounded corners it looked like a rectangular box made out of dust-covered white plastic. It rolled on black rubber tires that continued to kick up dust from the parched field. The driver was visible through a clear windscreen that wrapped around the front. Broad, dust-covered windows dotted the sides. The display over the windscreen announced in large lighted letters “13X – Market Street.”