Peacemaker: The Corona Rebellion 2564 AD

by Gordon Savage

  Toby Walker stood up. “I have to say I wasn’t very comfortable when the militia came out and trained their guns on everyone. What would have happened if one of those guys had been trigger happy?”

  “I have to agree,” Colt said. I know they’re supposed to have their weapons unloaded, but it would only take that one person who forgot to squeeze his trigger. I have to take the blame for that. I should have come up with a safer way to get them out of their quarters. Larry?”

  “It was funny, but do you think it’ll do any good?” Larry said.

  “Probably not by itself. It might have them looking over their shoulders for a while, and if we keep up the low level pranks, they’ll stay on edge. However, to have a long-term effect, we need to start disabling their equipment, interfering with their communications, and so forth. I believe we had some good ideas at the town meeting. For instance, they’re using rotating offset cryptography to encode their communications. If they change the baseline and the offset frequently, it will take about five minutes to break the code. Usually, by then they will have finished the communication. On the other hand, we know they’re using Jensen-Allworth engines to encode and decode. If we can rig one of theirs to burst transmit every time it receives or sends a message, we can break their codes as fast as they can change them. We have someone on the inside that should be able to do that for us. Obviously we can’t give out names.” Colt looked around the room to see everyone nodding in agreement.

  “There are also other ideas being put to work to degrade rather than disable their equipment and to keep them from getting sleep and several other unpleasant but non-lethal problems.”

  “Emilio?”

  “What about setting fire to their encampment? Wouldn’t that discourage them a lot more than stink bugs?”

  “It might, but keep in mind these are your friends and neighbors who happen to have a differing opinion. Burning down their camp could cause somebody to get hurt, maybe killed. I don’t think any of us really wants to risk that. Besides, that would give them a reason to track down anyone involved.”

  Then Colt considered briefly. “Most of the farms around here have electronic fences, don’t they?”

  A murmur of agreement filled the room.

  “Have you ever noticed how when you start a fire inside an electronic enclosure, the smoke accumulates until it spills over the top?”

  “Yes, That’s why we shut down the fences when we burn off a field,” Emilio replied.

  “How hard would it be to cap an enclosure? Emilio, can you look into that?”

  Emilio brightened. “You’re thinking the militiamen will all have penetrators so they can just march across the fields.”

  “Right. Smoke won’t stop them unless they don’t have breathing gear, but it will slow them down. And you don’t have to burn the fields, just something that gives off a lot of smoke.”

  An hour later, after the meeting adjourned, Amelia broke in, “A voice message just came in for Mr. August.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Colt responded, frowning.

  Once again the voice was electronically altered. “Congratulations, Gus. The first blow for the loyalists. Tell whoever dropped those worms they did a super job!”

  Colt stood silent for several seconds. Finally, he said, “I was afraid of this. Whoever it is has us under surveillance; otherwise, he or she wouldn’t have known when our guests left. On the other hand, it also means that even though he’s keeping track of us outside the house, he doesn’t have any bugs planted inside. At least, he didn’t show any sign of knowing what we talked about tonight.” He paused. “Right now all he’s trying to do is make us uncomfortable.”

  “Well, he’s succeeding,” Lindsay responded. “I’m really worried that he’ll come after Brady.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Colt answered. “Still, I get the feeling that as long as he doesn’t believe he’s being threatened by us, he’ll be content to watch … for now. We need to be alert though.”

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?” Lindsay asked.

  “I’m going to look into that. I can think of several possibilities, and maybe Fitz has some tech stuff that will help.”

  Chapter 27

  Toby and Howard Walker had set up the firing range around a sharp bend three kilometers back from the open country farmland in one of the narrow collateral valleys that led into the foothills. They had worked for two days to plow up a three meter high berm and install baffles over the target area for safety. The shooters had just finished their last timed fire session.

  “Clear and ground your weapons. Then step back from your positions,” Toby Walker barked. In a few seconds all the weapons were on the tables at the firing positions, and all the shooters had stepped back.

  “Weapons are cleared. The firing line is safe,” Walker announced. “Everyone go forward and retrieve your targets.”

  As the targets were brought back behind the firing positions, Colt had a chance to look at them. He had to be careful not to show his dismay. Out of fifteen shooters only three had a decent score. He realized that most of them were probably unfamiliar with slug-throwers, but he was looking more for consistency than accuracy. After practicing all morning they were still producing wildly random patterns.

  When the group had assembled in front of him, Colt said in a calm, low voice, “Take a look at your targets. I believe you can see why we are not ready for a gunfight right now. Only the three hunters show any proficiency with these rifles.”

  “That’s not fair. Nobody uses rifles anymore,” one of the shooters complained.

  “It may not be fair, but do you want to risk your life on your shooting skill? This has nothing to do with fair. It has to do with keeping you alive in a fire fight.”

  “But we won’t be using hunting rifles, will we?” another spoke out.

  “I don’t want any of us fighting at all, but if we have to, I want us to be able to hold our own, at least briefly. The military still trains using rifles. They do it to teach new recruits discipline under fire.”

  Colt paused and looked the shooters over. “Hopefully, you’ve learned some range safety. I expect you to put in at least an hour a day working on your proficiency, but don’t practice alone. Get together with one of the hunters. And for Pete’s sake, be careful. These guns may be archaic, but they’re also deadly.”

  A glint of light from the northern ridge caught Colt’s eye. Without turning to look he keyed his communicator, “Bogey on Rialto, fifteen meters from the top.”

  “That’s near me,” Howard Walker’s voice came from the communicator.

  “Remember he’s probably armed.”

  Colt turned to the shooters as if nothing had happened. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve done a good day’s work. As soon as you police your brass and clean your weapons, you can head for home.”

  “That’s another reason for using a blaster,” someone grumbled as the shooters moved off.

  A flyer broke from the trees on the other side of the ridge where Colt had seen the glint. Almost immediately his communicator erupted with Howard Walker’s voice, “Damn! I almost got to him but he got to the flyer first.”

  “Did you get a look at him?” Colt asked.

  “Not really. He was in camouflage, face painted, and wearing a hat. I got pictures but they probably won’t tell us much.”

  “What else?”

  “He was carrying a tripod and a parabolic mike. My guess is he heard us discussing him and lit out.”

  Colt murmured, “You’re probably right. Any information from the tracks to suggest size and weight?”

  “Sorry, too many tracks were rubbed out.”

  “Okay, thanks. All hands, you might as well bring it in.”

  Colt walked over to Lindsay’s van. “What did you pick up from his transponder?” he asked Amelia.

  “His transponder was disabled,” Amelia answered.

  A few minutes later Howard Walker trotted out of the brush at the base of the ridge. Whe
n he reached Colt, he plugged the nanodrive from his helmet camera into the flyer’s dash and brought up the video. “A black Fischer Comet with a sliding bubble canopy,” Colt observed.

  “There can’t be more than five or six hundred of those on the planet,” Walker said. He leaned forward and pointed toward the back end of the flyer. “That ding ought to be pretty easy to identify, if we can find it.”

  “Unfortunately, he probably won’t be so careless next time,” Colt said.

  Amelia announced, “I just received a burst transmission for Mr. August.”

  “Play it back, please.”

  “That wasn’t very nice, Gus. Do you know where Brady is?”

  ###

  Colt flew all the way back to the farm with the thrust grip twisted to full, despite the speed governor engaging at 200 kph. Several times he started to call Lindsay, and then stopped. He didn’t want to panic her. As soon as he grounded the van, he bolted for the house.

  He almost ran into Lindsay as she opened the door. “Where’s Brady?” he asked, trying to keep the tension out of his voice.

  “He’s playing with a friend. Why?” she asked. The expression on her face turned to alarm.

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly for several seconds. “I got a message from our anonymous caller. I think I made him mad. We had better get Brady home right away.”

  Her face went white. “My God, is he in danger?”

  “I hope not, but we need to get him now.”

  “I’ll call Ramona and get her to bring him home.” She reached for her communicator.

  “We should probably go pick him up. Just tell her we’re coming for him.” He turned and headed for the van. “You drive since you know where we’re going.”

  Lindsay called Ramona Commager while they rushed to the van. As she was getting into the driver’s seat, the van relay responded with, “Hi, Lindsay. Is it time for Brady to come home already?”

  Lindsay pulled the door shut. “We’re on our way over to pick him up. We’ll explain when we get there.”

  Lindsay lifted the van off the pad and turned it toward Commager’s farm to the east. Without taking her focus off the terrain in front of them, she demanded, “How did this happen?”

  “The snooper was spying on us at the firing range. We took him by surprise and almost caught him,” Colt answered. “I’m hoping he was just trying to scare me as payback.”

  They quickly crossed the lake, and moments later Lindsay set the van down on the Commager’s pad. Ramona, a plain looking woman with dishwater blond hair, came out on the porch while Colt and Lindsay were getting out. She waved and hurried down the steps. “Jason and Brady went down to the grove to play in Jason’s fort.” She nodded at a clump of trees a few hundred meters away. “Vince left to get them as soon as you called.”

  Colt broke into a run toward the grove. Before he had covered ten meters, a flyer rose from the trees and swept in a small half circle toward him. Colt stopped, pulled out his communicator, and used it to take several pictures. The flyer swung away and headed north, barely clearing the tree tops. Colt began running again.

  When he reached the grove, he found Commager sprawled on the ground, not moving. Jason was crying, prodding him. “Daddy! Daddy! Are you all right?” he sobbed.

  Colt dropped down next to the two of them. He quickly checked Commager. When he found that Commager was breathing, he put his hand on Jason’s shoulder and said as calmly as he could, “Your dad’s going to be okay. Where’s Brady?”

  It took Jason several seconds to overcome his sobbing enough to say, “They took him.”

  “They took him? There was more than one?”

  Jason nodded, but before he said anything else, Commager twitched and groaned. Colt said, “Let’s get your dad back to the house.”

  Commager was a large man. With Jason’s help Colt managed to get him into a fireman’s carry and started walking toward the house. After a few dozen meters, Commager twitched violently, and Colt almost dropped him. After a few more meters, Commager mumbled, “I’m all right. Let me down.” Colt lowered him to the ground. He was so wobbly that Colt almost tried to pick him up again, but with his left arm over Colt’s shoulder he was able to walk shakily.

  Ramona saw them as soon as they stepped out of the trees and headed for them at a run. “Vince, Jason, are you all right?” she shouted. Commager waved weakly.

  When she got near, Colt said, “Looks like a stunner. There shouldn’t be any lasting effects.” She threw her arms around Commager, forcing them to stop.

  Lindsay ran up right after Ramona did. “Where’s Brady? I don’t see Brady. Where is he?” Her voice was approaching hysteria, and tears ran down her cheeks.

  Struggling to help Commager stay on his feet, Colt could only say blankly, “They took him.”

  “Who took him? Who took him?” She demanded, sobbing.

  Jason had regained some of his composure. “Two men. And they shot daddy.”

  Brushing at her tears, Lindsay turned to Commager. “Did you see them? Can you describe them?”

  Commager drew himself up as best he could. “I saw them. Two men in hunting camouflage. One was about my height and thin. Brown hair. light-colored eyes. The other was shorter and heavyset. Black hair and dark eyes and a beard.”

  Colt could see that Lindsay was near the breaking point. “Lindsay, you and Ramona help get Vince to the house. I’m going to call the marshal.” He moved Commager’s arm to her shoulders, and Ramona took the other arm.

  The call went through immediately. “Marshal’s office, Deputy Marshal DeVry speaking. How may I direct your call?”

  “This is William August. I need to report a kidnapping.”

  There was a pause. “Yes, sir. Just a moment, please.”

  A few seconds later a new voice came over the communicator. “This is Deputy Tucker. You say there’s been a kidnapping?”

  Colt recognized the name as one of the deputies that had questioned him and Lindsay in Sykesville. “Owen, this is William August. Mrs. Hansen’s son, Brady, was taken just a few minutes ago from the Commager’s farm southeast of Sykesville. I have some pretty good images of the flyer he was taken in, and Vince Commager and his boy can both describe the men.”

  “Right, Mister August. I remember you and Mrs. Hansen. Sorry about the other night. Do you know what kind of condition Brady was in?”

  Colt looked at Commager. “As far as we know he was unharmed. Are you ready to download the images?”

  “Ready.” When the images had been transmitted, Tucker said, “I can make out the registry number in this image. Let me run it.”

  A few seconds later he came back with, “It belongs to Morgan Hildreth. He reported it stolen late last night. Uh oh.” He paused, “This is strange. The whole record just disappeared. Now I’m getting an interdiction message. This record has been sealed from public access. That doesn’t make any sense, unless …” Again he paused. “Let me call you back in just a second.”

  It was closer to a minute when Colt’s communicator buzzed. “Mister August, I’m on my personal communicator. I have to apologize. I’ve been instructed to erase all evidence of your report and our conversation. Direct orders from the Commandant.”

  “What!” Colt exploded. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “I wish I knew because this isn’t right. I may get in trouble for it, but I was able to recover what was in the stolen flyer report. I’m sending you the information I captured.” He paused. “Now I’m getting a message that the marshal’s office isn’t supposed to respond to any more calls from outside Sykesville. I can’t do more right now, but I’ll try to drop by after I go off duty this evening to see if I can help in any way.”

  By then they had reached the porch and Lindsay and Ramona were able to let Commager sit down. Lindsay saw Colt’s expression. “What is it?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “Apparently we’re on our own,” he said flatly.

  “Wha
t do you mean?” Lindsay demanded.

  “Tucker was given direct orders not to help us by the military governor of Sykesville.” Colt answered.

  “That can’t be all there is. We’ve got to get Brady back.” She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. “We have to!”

  “Tucker said he’ll stop by after work to see if he can help. He also sent me some information that may help, but I’ll need to have a workstation to follow up on it. We’d better get home.”

  They flew most of the way back to the farm in numbed silence when Lindsay finally said, “This was my fault, wasn’t it? I shouldn’t have let Brady out of my sight.”

  Colt put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. He was with friends. He should have been safe. Don’t blame yourself.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to have to find him ourselves. The information I got from Tucker was that the stolen flyer has a built-in tracking device. Even if the local constabulary isn’t allowed to track it, we have the ID and should be able to get my spook friend or the Home Guard to run it down. The trouble is Dennis may take hours to get back to us, and I don’t know how fast the Guard can react either. Their software is classified, no public access.”

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Lindsay hesitated, “but Howard Walker is a notorious hacker.” She looked quickly at Colt. “Don’t get me wrong. He doesn’t do any harm. He just does it as a game. He claims there isn’t a computer system on the planet he can’t break into.”

  By the time they landed a few minutes later, Walker had agreed to help and was on his way to Lindsay’s house.

  ###

  “That’s where the flyer is right now.” Walker pointed to an open field in the monitor screen. “From the looks of the countryside around there, they just ditched it. I don’t see any place they could be holding Brady.”

  “You mean we can’t find him?” Lindsay demanded.

  “There is a possibility,” Walker added. “According to the report, the flyer’s tracking device logs where the flyer has been. If they dropped Brady off and then ditched it, we should be able to backtrack and find out where else they stopped. The trouble is the flyer doesn’t transmit the log. It’s only available on the console monitor.”