Though Hell Should Bar the Way

by David Drake

  The colonel remained at the gate with the arriving platoon. He pointed toward us.

  “All right, driver,” Leary said. The privacy panel between the front and the passenger compartment was down.

  The aircar rose smoothly, then curved to the right to take us over the stone Residency as the troops swept into the landscaped grounds. As we banked, I saw that several pairs of Foliot’s men carried frame charges between them.

  The building was arranged around a courtyard. We dropped into the middle abruptly and pancaked in. The driver must have done something besides just cutting the fans, because we didn’t hop upward again as I’d expected. This vehicle was a limousine with inlays and luxurious seats, but this wasn’t the driver’s first assault landing.

  Leary, Hogg, Tovera, and Woetjans were out while the car’s resilient skirt was still flexing. They’d had their doors half-open from the moment we took off.

  A man was starting across the courtyard. As we swept in, he turned and ran toward a doorway in the right sidewall at its corner with the rear wing. He got the door open when a clatter from Tovera’s miniature submachine gun dropped him dead on the threshold.

  A door was rolling up in the opposite sidewall; I heard lift fans revving from there. Leary and Hogg leaned over the front and rear decks of our car and began shooting. Their impellers crashed instead of crackling the way Tovera’s weapon did.

  Fan motors came apart as heavy slugs crashed through the car’s body and into the motor housings. Windings shorted. Metal which had been blown from the leading motors sprayed the blades of fans farther back; unbalanced, they tore themselves out of their housings. The car tried to dive onto its nose, but the back end hit the ceiling of its stall. The vehicle bounced sideways and turned over, spilling passengers.

  Colonel Foliot had said the Residency had an aircar. During the planning for the assault, I’d asked why Captain Leary was going in as one of the shooters tasked with making sure the vehicle didn’t get away. “Don’t the police”—I nodded to Colonel Foliot—“have marksmen?”

  Hogg gave me the kind of look you do for something on your shoe and said, “Because the young master’s a better snap shot than I am, which makes him plenty bloody good. Myself, I’d rather whack them when they’re asleep.”

  Lady Mundy was running with a small pistol in her left hand. I followed, figuring my body covered hers from anybody trying to shoot her from behind. The second-floor windows all overlooked the courtyard and it wouldn’t be hard for somebody to start popping shots at our backs.

  I left my own pistol in my pocket. It wasn’t hard to imagine myself tripping with a gun in my hand and putting a slug into the back of somebody in front of me. There were plenty of things that I couldn’t control, but at least I could avoid making situations worse.

  Woetjans threw open the door and turned right, bracing her left hand against the wall in front of her and brandishing the length of pipe overhead. Tovera was just behind her, keeping low and moving as fast as the long-legged bosun.

  I followed Lady Mundy, jumping the dead man in the doorway. A man was coming down the hall from the direction of the commo vault. He reached under his coat but was dead before he even got his fingers around the grip of the holstered pistol.

  I heard blasts from three directions. Foliot’s commando was blowing in doors and windows with charges set against the frames. An explosion shattered the door of an office farther down the hallway, slamming it in pieces against the courtyard side of the wing.

  The door of the commo vault slammed closed. Woetjans gripped the loop handle and tried to jerk it open.

  Do the platoons attacking from outside have any entry charges left?

  I opened my mouth to volunteer to go find explosives. Two things stopped me: Lady Mundy was squatting on the hallway floor, doing something with her personal data unit. And I realized that running toward a squad which had just blown its way into an enemy base was a very good way to be shot dead by people who’d only registered movement coming from a hostile direction.

  Something went clink inside the armored door. Lady Mundy said, “Don’t shoot!”

  Woetjans hauled the steel panel open. I stepped into the vault before the bosun could. A man my age—a boy—in a tan uniform stood behind a console, pointing a pistol at me.

  I raised my hands and stepped forward, smiling. “Let’s both survive this, hey?” I said. “If you let me take you out of here really slowly, nobody will touch you.”

  I didn’t know if that was true. I hoped it was.

  The pointed pistol began trembling. I stopped in the middle of the room.

  “Who are you?” the clerk said.

  “We’re the government,” I said. “Your lot tried to kill Colonel Foliot tonight. You’ll be arrested and deported because you’re diplomatic staff. Unless you murder me, of course.”

  There was some truth to that. Mostly I was just trying to sound plausible. I hoped I did.

  “You really won’t kill me?” the clerk whispered. From his tone, the words were a prayer. He closed his eyes and tears started to leak out. When he set the pistol beside the console, it slipped off and clanked to the floor.

  I leaned over the desk and put my arms around him. He began sobbing and clutched at me with both hands. He was blubbering words, but I couldn’t understand them.

  Tovera walked around the desk and gently disentangled the clerk’s arms. I let Woetjans lead me back to the doorway. I was so frightened I could scarcely walk. I was glad of her presence.

  “You could get yourself killed that way, kid,” the bosun said.

  “So you’re going to live forever?” I managed to say. I squeezed her arm, then stepped over to where Tovera held the clerk. The muzzle of her submachine gun was close to his ear.

  “Woetjans and I will take him now, Tovera,” I said. I was trying to sound firm, but my voice trembled.

  Tovera grinned and gestured with her left hand. “Be my guest, kid,” she said.

  “Stay behind me,” I said to the clerk. “We’ll be going into the courtyard.”

  As we passed Woetjans, I said, “Would you watch our backs, Chief?”

  We returned to the door the way I’d arrived. It was a much shorter distance than it’d seemed when I’d arrived a few minutes ago, tensed up against the bullet that I was sure was tear into me.

  We passed the man Tovera had killed when he tried to draw a gun; realistically, she would have killed him regardless. I glanced back to see how the clerk was taking it. He stared, his throat working. I had to touch his arm and guide him through the outside door.

  We were using the courtyard to gather the people we’d captured in the Residency. Among the group under guard there already was Representative McKinnon, whom I’d met during the presentation at the Councillor’s Palace on our arrival.

  He looked at us with dawning fury, then snarled, “Did you open the Commo Vault, Carey? You traitor, you bloody traitor! You’ll be shot for this, you know!”

  I started to say that we’d opened the door from outside, but I caught myself. Why did I care what the Karst spy thought, let alone want to correct him?

  The clerk, Carey, looked at McKinnon, then turned deliberately to me and said in a clear voice, “That’s Representative McKinnon. He gave the order to attack Foliot. The men beside him are Lestrup and Watts. Watts was in command during the attack. He’s from the Central Office in Hegemony on Karst.”

  Carey looked around at the increasing group of prisoners. “I don’t see any but Lestrup and Watts who were involved in the attack. I think you must have killed most of them.”

  Despite the weapons pointed at him, McKinnon lunged at Carey with his fist raised. I moved forward and blocked the punch, then hit the representative twice in the belly. He doubled over and fell to the ground.

  With Cassidy beside him, Colonel Foliot entered the courtyard. He looked better than he had when I saw him just before the attack. Another dozen prisoners followed them out, guarded by police.

 
; Some of the commandos’ submachine guns had been fired recently, judging by the sheen of the muzzles. Coil guns accelerated heavy-metal pellets down their bores, but the flux worked on the pellets’ aluminum skirts which vaporized in the process. The gaseous metal recondensed on the outer surfaces of the weapon and on anything else near the muzzle.

  “We’ve got both floors of the front wing cleared,” the colonel said. “Any problems at your end, Leary?”

  “Not that I’ve heard,” Six said, “but—ah, here. Adele, were you successful?”

  Lady Mundy had come out of the building. She’d put her pistol away but held her personal data unit. Tovera was walking behind her and seemed to be trying to look in all directions.

  “I’ve transferred the data in the console to my unit on the Sunray,” Mundy said. “It will take time to sort it, of course.”

  “You’re Lady Mundy?” said Carey unexpectedly. He turned his head. “And you’d be Captain Leary, sir?”

  “Yes,” said Six. “What of it?”

  “Then, sir,” Carey said, “you ought to know that a Mistress Grimaud of your own Cinnabar delegation was behind the attack. She told McKinnon that you and Lady Mundy had turned Foliot and were about to help him overthrow the government. McKinnon decided that getting rid of Foliot was the quickest way to take care of that problem.”

  “Indeed,” Captain Leary said. “And you would know that how, sir?”

  “He’s the code clerk,” Lady Mundy said. “And just skimming the message traffic I can confirm his statements.”

  “I think we’d better discuss that with Mistress Grimaud, don’t you, Adele?” the captain said. He smiled. He really did look amused, but he was carrying his impeller at port arms. The muzzle was bright with recent firing.

  “Yes,” Mundy said. “We’re close to the Palace, but—”

  Before she got the question out, Colonel Foliot said, “We’ll go in my aircar. I need to inform Councillor Perez about the plot anyway.”

  He turned to Cassidy and said, “I’ll leave you in charge here with thirty men or however many more you think you need. Send the rest double-time to the Councillor’s Palace. I left twenty people there and the late arrivals will join them. I think the army’s pretty much loyal, but McKinnon here obviously got to my own guards tonight, and I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “I’ll be able to tell you very shortly which soldiers have had dealings with Karst,” Lady Mundy said. “But for now, keeping a good number of your Special Police close by is the best idea.”

  As we all started to get into the car, I remembered Carey. There wasn’t room for him to ride with us, but—

  I turned to the noncom who’d taken Foliot’s seat during the assault and said, “Sergeant? This prisoner is being very helpful, and his colleagues aren’t happy about it. Can you make sure that they don’t harm him when I’m gone?”

  The fellow looked over at Foliot who had just gotten into the cab beside the driver. “Sir?” he said.

  “Absolutely right, Sergeant Peters,” Foliot said, nodding.

  As I got into the center of the middle bank of seats, Peters transferred his submachine gun to his left hand alone and walked over to McKinnon and his henchmen. Without warning, he punched McKinnon in the stomach much harder than I’d been able to.

  We took off steeply because the courtyard didn’t allow as long a run-up as we’d had on the street in front of the building. I hadn’t meant for Peters to do that, but I’d left up to him the way he wanted to execute my directions. And to be honest, his choice didn’t really bother me.

  “Sir?” I said, speaking up to be heard over the intake rush; the windows were open. “I didn’t think to ask Carey if he’d warned the orbiting Karst destroyer that we’d attacked the Residency.”

  “He didn’t,” Lady Mundy said, shouting from the seat opposite. “I did in his name, though. Remember, we’re here to encourage Karst to attack Saguntum, which will shortly be a Friend of Cinnabar.”

  I hadn’t been thinking about that. I’d just watched a number of people die. Thanks in part to me, more people were going to die.

  We dropped in front of the Council House. I’d seen from the air that at least fifty Special Police formed in a block on one side of the plaza. They were easily identified by their battledress. There were also other military personnel in a variety of uniforms, and a growing number of civilians despite the late hour.

  “Colonel,” Lady Mundy said, speaking through the open panel to the cab when the fans shut off. “Lieutenant Cory in the Sunray has taken director control of the antiship missile batteries around the harbor. I don’t believe the regular crews are in Karst pay, but I thought it better not to take chances.”

  Foliot’s face went hard for an instant. Then he nodded crisply and said, “Thank you, Lady Mundy. You were thinking ahead of me.”

  A squad of Special Police ringed the car, giving us room to get out. The crowd wasn’t hostile but their shouted questions had created a complete babble. Most questions were directed at Foliot.

  He turned and shouted, “Leary, will you come with me to brief Councillor Perez?”

  “In a moment, sir,” Captain Leary shouted back. “We have our own business to take care of. Will you lend us an official presence in case we need to discuss the matter with the attendants at the rooms occupied by the Cinnabar delegation?”

  Foliot got out and pointed to an army officer wearing a green field uniform and a worried expression. “Major Hafner?” he said. “Captain Leary and his people from Cinnabar have my authorization as Director to do anything they damned well please. Do you have any objection to helping them do that?”

  “No objection at all, sir,” Hafner said. He threw Foliot a salute, then said, “Captain, what do you need from me?”

  “Lead us to the west wing, ground floor,” Lady Mundy said. We set out.

  I’d thought for a moment that Six should have asked for a larger escort to get through the crowd, but as soon as we’d passed the initial ring of Special Police, a score of spacers formed around us. They weren’t carrying guns, but most had tools or batons made from a length of high-pressure tubing.

  Evans carried a maul. He handled it so easily that if I hadn’t once tried to pick it up, I wouldn’t have believed it was really bronze.

  Our group entered the Council House alongside Foliot and his entourage, but we turned left in the central rotunda while he marched straight across into the Councillor’s suite. An army sergeant wearing a Sam Brown belt of white leather with a holstered pistol stood doubtfully.

  “These are Cinnabar officials, going to see their colleagues,” Hafner said. That was more than he’d been told, though it was pretty much true.

  The sergeant stepped aside, though he still looked doubtful.

  Leary with Hogg beside him stopped at the first door to the left. “Open up, please, Mistress Grimaud,” he called.

  The next door down the hall opened; Director Jimenez peeked out, keeping his body concealed. I smiled toward him, but his expression looked frozen.

  “I’ll get it,” said Woetjans, stepping forward and raising her right boot.

  The door opened before the bosun could kick it in. Maeve, wearing the same slinky outfit as when she invited me to dinner, stood in the opening. “You have business with the Foreign Ministry, Captain Leary?” she said.

  “I have business with you, Mistress Grimaud,” Lady Mundy said. “You’re under arrest as a traitor to the Republic. My warrant as Senate Plenipotentiary to Saguntum is sufficient authority, I believe, though you’re welcome to object when you’re tried in Xenos. Unless”—Mundy cocked an eye at Major Hafner—“you plan to ask asylum from the Saguntine authorities?”

  “Ma’am,” Hafner said to Lady Mundy. “A buddy of mine in the police says that this woman had our boss shot, Colonel Foliot. I wouldn’t be the one to grant asylum regardless; but if the story’s true, then nobody else is going to do it either.”

  “I don’t believe your claim of a
uthority!” Maeve said, but I could see in her eyes that she did. She was beginning to grasp how badly she’d misstepped when she went up against Lady Mundy.

  “Turn around and stick your wrists out,” Tovera said. I thought for an instant that Maeve might refuse, but thank goodness she turned. Tovera twitched the wrists together and lashed them with something so thin I could barely see it. A bead the size of my little fingernail bound the ends of the tie.

  Tovera stepped away. Maeve faced around again. Tovera smiled at her and said, “You used some local talent to shanghai the kid here. If you’d like to involve them again, I’d be happy to discuss matters.”

  Maeve didn’t reply. She glared at Tovera, then let her glance stray toward me. She lowered her eyes.

  The spacers with us had rousted the senior members of the Foreign Ministry delegation into the hallway. Banta was wearing a bathrobe and sandals. His lip was swollen and bloody; I hadn’t heard it happen, but chances were that he’d protested a little too strongly for Dasi’s liking and had gotten knocked down.

  Dasi held a lug wrench in his right hand. He hadn’t bothered to use it to make his point with Banta.

  Captain Leary looked over the assemblage in the hallway lighting. “I think we’re all here now,” he said. “Lady Mundy, what next?”

  “Now,” she said, “I present my credentials to Councillor Perez and see if Saguntum would like to enter the Friendship of Cinnabar.”

  We started toward the rotunda again. A pair of riggers were marching Maeve along, each holding an elbow. I hoped nobody would stumble, because I was pretty sure that Tovera’s monocrystal tie would cut through bone if enough pressure were put on it.

  * * *

  I expected we’d have to shove our way to the Councillor’s office, but as soon as our party reappeared from the west wing, a double column of Special Police did the pushing for us.

  I followed Six and Lady Mundy to the door of the office, then stopped. An aide in civilian clothes waited outside the door with his hand on the knob; a special policeman stood beside him, looking uncomfortable and squeezing the grip of his submachine gun nervously. His finger wasn’t inside the trigger guard, but I won’t say he made me feel easier.