Miranda's Demons

by Ian Miller

  The newcomers had retreated to one of their large vehicles, no doubt for a meal, but two flashing torches indicated that guards were patrolling. Rather unexpectedly, the two yellow suited bodies were still lying on the ground. They had been shot by rifles, and if the self-sealing systems had worked well, their air bottles should still be full. Baxter used the light from the guards' beams to locate two of the bodies of the newcomers, and as the guards moved away, Baxter crept up to the bodies. He quickly swapped his empty bottle, and noted that the pressure gauge showed the replacement to be almost full. He swapped his other bottle, then he undid the pressure suits and ferretted through the pockets until he found the men's wallets.

  A flash of light from his torch illuminated the contents of the wallet. He could not believe what he had found: a GenCorp data entry card. Another light flashed across the ground away from his rocks. A guard must have noticed something! He turned off his light and reached for his handgun. Justice still employed the old fashioned heavy pistols, but they were effective, especially on Mars. Any hit with the 11.4 mm high velocity expanding shell would tear an irreparable hole in most pressure suits.

  As the guard came around the side of the rock, Baxter raised his weapon and fired. The Martian air was thin, and very little sound would carry. The shape fell back, twitched, and lay still. Baxter quickly dived to the body, and killed the light, but it was too late. Another guard was running forward. Again Baxter aimed carefully and fired, and again, the guard fell to the ground, desperately trying to staunch the loss of air through a graze on his arm.

  Baxter turned and ran. There, ahead, was the glow point. He looked back and saw more torches appear from the vehicle. He reached his rope and leaped high in the air, grasped the rope, and began to climb. Suddenly a giant searchlight began sweeping across the land. Baxter was just a meter away from the top when he was caught in the glare. He pulled himself over the ledge, and as he saw the shapes below coming towards him, he fitted the scope sight to his pistol, and aimed at the searchlight. His first shot missed. He realized that even with the rifling in his gun, the chances of hitting at this range were not good, but he tried again. Again a miss. Once more, and the light collapsed. Now he turned and climbed as rapidly as he dared. Fortunately the rocks were still radiating heat, and he could discern every foothold. He made the top of the Tholus, and ran as fast as he could to the west.

  He regained his vehicle, and set off as fast as he dared without lights towards the west. He engaged the inertial compass, set the direction, engaged autodrive, and lay back to go to sleep. He slept only fitfully as the craft lurched across the rough terrain, but as the sun came up, he had reached the western rim of Argyre, and it was only then when he realized he had made a mistake; a long streak of dust was drifting eastward across Argyre, like an arrow, pointing the way to his exit. He drove on as fast as he dared, but always attempting to drive over rock rather than sand, to leave a minimum of tracks. When he reached his cave, he carefully obliterated all tracks leading to it, and he retreated to sleep.

  The next morning he knew it was decision time. He could travel south, around the back of crater Halley, and through some of the most rugged terrain on Mars to reach his main base. Alternatively, he could try to defend his present position. This was not impossible; he had previously taken a large amount of explosive from the mining base, and he could set up radio-controlled detonators. If the collaborators followed him some judicious booby traps might cause them to retreat, to get reinforcements. If they thought they had located his main base, it was conceivable they might leave him for the time being. It would then be safer to move.

  In the end, he decided to lay explosive charges, and see what would happen. His base was at the cliff end of a large oval valley, and his enemies would have to travel through one of two relatively narrow gulches. Baxter climbed the one pinnacle overlooking both gulches, and marked out areas in each where he had full view. He climbed down, laid charges, fixed radio controlled detonators, then retreated to his pinnacle to wait.

  For two days nothing happened. He had slept fitfully through the first night, and more solidly through the second. He woke in something of a panic; while the collaborators could have given up, they might have found his base while he was asleep, and could be playing with him. His problem was soon resolved; his sonic amplifier recorded vibrations through the ground. Seven of the collaborator's vehicles were approaching through the southern gulch. There were three charges in this gulch, and Baxter waited until the leading vehicle was over the third. He pressed his radio control, and was impressed to see the vehicle thrown into the air. Another vehicle was over his rear charge, so he detonated that, and was satisfied to see it also destroyed. The remaining vehicles were unsure of what to do, but eventually they decided to go forward. Baxter detonated his last charge, but the attempt was unsuccessful. He quickly bounded down from the pinnacle and entered his vehicle, just as the first enemy vehicle appeared.

  He slammed the seat belt home, and engaged drive. He quickly drove into the northern gulch, hoping he had not been seen. No such luck! He had been too slow; one of the vehicles was giving chase. He quickly set his vehicle into autodrive, and clambered to the rear of his vehicle. Autodrive had an advantage in that the vehicle would traverse across country avoiding holes, walls and large rocks, using its laser sensors. However, it was not the fastest means of travelling. For the moment this did not matter. He watched the leading vehicle surge around the nearest bend, and he saw the flash of its weapon. The ground erupted near him. Unfortunately, autodrive did not allow for zigzagging. But then he had luck. The pursuing vehicle had chosen a route directly above his first charge in this gulch. He detonated it, and saw the vehicle swerve and smash into a large rock face. He left the second charge to the last instant where radio contact could be expected, and he detonated that. The explosion caused a vehicle to swerve, but caused no other damage. When he detonated the third, there was no vehicle in sight, but he did it anyway, to act as a further deterrent. He then regained his driving position, and flipped to maximum speed.

  As his vehicle began lurching across the reddened sand, he returned to manual control, but switched on the route sensors. There was an immediate warning flash; the rock ridge ahead was registering as likely to be friable, and possibly covering an underground river channel. There was a gravel bed to the right, so he made a quick decision; neither the ridge nor the gravel would show tracks. He drove up carefully to the ridge on auto navigate, stopped, then set the computers to send his vehicle in reverse over exactly the same path. He followed the gravel and prayed.

  He headed north, and finally northeast. It was when he made the small correction to his direction that he saw the dust raised by his pursuers, and he knew, deep down, that all his efforts had failed and that escape was impossible. Sooner or later, he would have to sleep. When that happened, he would have to use autodrive and he would be caught. His one chance was that they would not have adequate fuel reserves; his stop at his cliff base had allowed him to recharge his energy cells. He would drive until he dropped, or longer.

  * * *

  When he opened his eyes, he was staring into a Japanese face, with a young female Chinese face behind. He was in some type of armoured vehicle.

  "Well, you've awoken. How do you feel?"

  "I'm alive," Baxter grunted.

  "Well, there's gratitude for you," Haruhiko exclaimed. "Tell me, where were you based?"

  There was a silence.

  "Have you any friends there?" Haruhiko continued, with a touch of irritation.

  "I have no friends," Baxter replied. "If I did, I wouldn't betray them to you."

  "Betray! So whose side are you on, then?"

  "Honourable sir," the Chinese girl interrupted.

  "Quiet," Haruhiko grunted irritably.

  "That's right! Squabble amongst yourselves," Baxter scowled.

  "There's thanks," Haruhiko scowled back.

  "Honourable sir!"

  Haruhiko felt annoyed, a
nd he turned and said, "Well?"

  "He never saw the fight, sir. All he knows is he was being pursued, he fell asleep, and he woke up to stare at M'starn writing. What would you think?"

  "You mean," Baxter started in surprise, "you're not M'starn?"

  "Oh no! " the Chinese girl smiled. "If you were fleeing collaborators, you have friends here."

  * * *

  Baxter told his entire story, and to Haruhiko's amusement, as he told it the young Chinese girl's eyes opened increasingly wider. "Oh, sir. Did you really destroy three enemy scout cars single-handedly? Oh, you're a hero. Your loneliness is over! All the young women will want to meet you. You will join us, and help us fight the enemy?"

  "I'd like to get some food and sleep, and get a message to Commissioner Garrett first," he said with a smile.

  * * *

  The Martian leadership was fascinated by his story. "You mean MinCorp was operating here on Mars?" Misako asked.

  "There's no doubt at all," Baxter replied. "I also think the collaborators knew very roughly what they were doing, but not exactly. I doubt they knew what was in the mine."

  "And what was it?" Haruhiko asked curiously.

  "I don't know," Baxter replied, "but here's some samples."

  "Odd-looking," McDonald said. "I'll get it analyzed."

  "Would you show us where it is?" Misako asked.

  "Of course," Baxter replied.

  "Not tempted to keep it for yourself?" McDonald asked.

  "Well, perhaps I could get some benefit from it," Baxter started, "not that . . ."

  "Of course you can get some benefit," Misako smiled. "Why don't you lodge a claim?"

  "Well, of course I didn't actually find it," Baxter started.

  "Come off it," McDonald said, shaking his head. "If you think after this is over we're going to recognize claims from those collaborating bastards you need a brain transplant. Yours will be the first mining claim registered on our side."

  Chapter 11

  For Elizabeth Garrett, the Baxter report was a conundrum. It was like a bomb that could be used in a number of ways, but nobody could predict what damage it would do, or to whom. The first use was obvious; she had to visit Commissioner Kotchetkova, if for no other reason than that the Commissioner would know she had received the message, and would also know roughly what it contained. This was something she had been hoping to avoid. Kotchetkova had continued to deliberately avoid contact with her, despite some genuine attempts on her part to make social contact. There was only one conclusion that could reasonably be drawn from such action; the Council members were now irrelevant to her ambitions. So Kotchetkova was really going to make the power play. She and that Roman! That meant she had to be dealt with, which, in itself, was fine. There was, however, a slightly ominous sign; surely the woman was not that arrogant as to believe that nobody could be of assistance to her, that she did not need allies. To keep a potential ally totally at bay only made sense if it were known that the ally was false. Which meant that Kotchetkova saw her as a threat.

  How? Why? She had not slipped, surely? No! Of that she was certain, but she was not as certain of Kleppe or Halas. Or perhaps Munro! Just suppose Munro realized the easiest way to power was to secure Defence! He had tried it with Streckov, but had chosen too weak a tool. But suppose he had finally gotten to Kotchetkova? It seemed so unlikely at first, but one never knew. Or perhaps he had gotten to the Roman? Now that would make sense. The whole Roman system worked on favours, power broking, the use of influence. With a little effort, Munro might even make that Roman feel at home. And if Kotchetkova was besotted? Or perhaps with a change in body there was a change in perspective? After all, it is so easy to deny the world when the world will have no part of you. None of which helped with her current problem, except she knew she had to be very wary.

  Kotchetkova had greeted her formally, and had impassively asked her why she had come to Tashkent. She had mentally cursed Kotchetkova for being unnecessarily insouciant, but she had to continue. "I just wish to discuss the implications of the Baxter report," she said.

  "Baxter report? What Baxter report?" A puzzled frown crossed Kotchetkova's face.

  In a sense, the bomb was back in Elizabeth Garrett's lap. She was convinced Kotchetkova was not acting. The bureaucracy of Defence had merely lost the message, if it had even been registered. However, now Kotchetkova would be warned, and would pursue the matter, so she had to explain the role Baxter had played, how he had discovered illegal MinCorp operations, how these miners had been murdered by collaborators, one of which was carrying a GenCorp identification card, and then she gave the account of Baxter's escape, and eventual rescue.

  "Baxter finished his communication by wishing to express his thanks to Lieutenant Takado," Garrett finished her account. "Without Takado, Baxter would surely have died. I would like to endorse those thanks, and I would hope you could convey my appreciation to him."

  "I shall indeed," Natasha smiled, "but if what you say is correct, I think it is Baxter who should be congratulated. You say he destroyed three collaborator vehicles single handedly?"

  "So the message says," Garrett replied cautiously. What was the infernal woman up to?

  "Then I hope he will remain available to help the settlers," Natasha said. "He will be very valuable to the forces there. Tell me, was he your personal appointee?"

  "Yes, he was," she replied. Where was this leading?

  "Then I must congratulate you," Natasha beamed. "You obviously have considerable talent at picking quality staff."

  "Thank you," Elizabeth said flatly. What was the demon up to? Surely she could not be being genuinely open? There was only one way to find out. "The question is, what next?" she continued. "At this stage, we can't prove anything, but it would appear that MinCorp has been operating illegally on Mars, and that some staff of GenCorp have been there also, with the collaborators."

  "You might have difficulty in getting a conviction," Natasha warned. "Getting witnesses from Mars is not easy at the moment, and these people could have been collaborating under their own initiative. About a third of Mars appears to have done so."

  "I agree entirely," Elizabeth went on. "Nevertheless, there are at least grounds for suspicion, and I guess why I'm here is that you should be aware there may be a security risk."

  "Thank you for the warning," Natasha nodded. "I think we're taking enough precautions, but obviously this information must be given serious thought."

  "And what about the corporate Heads?" Garrett asked cautiously.

  "I think for the moment we can leave that in your hands," Natasha mused. "I appreciate your calling, and I would further appreciate being kept informed. But this appears to be appropriate for Justice to investigate."

  "That's easier said than done," Elizabeth muttered. "They can be pretty brutal."

  "Tell you what," Natasha nodded. "As long as you keep a log of when and where you are, you can tell Reiner, Munro, and anybody else for that matter, that if you disappear or get hurt for any reason whatsoever after registering a visit, say a fishing accident, choke on a fishbone, whatever, Defence will take them out within twenty-four hours, no debate, no mercy."

  "You think they'll believe that," Elizabeth said doubtfully.

  "Tell 'em to call me for confirmation," Natasha smiled coldly. "I mean it."

  Elizabeth Garrett was quite surprised as she looked into Kotchetkova's eyes. She did mean it! For Kotchetkova, the corporates were not to be feared. But surely that only deepened the mystery. Surely since Kotchetkova despised her there was no reason for her to give gratuitous help. One thing was clear, however. There was no alliance between Kotchetkova and Munro, which was something to be grateful for. She was very thoughtful as she left. She was certain she was being manipulated, but to what end? Unless the end was to ensure that she, Elizabeth Garrett, could arrange for the end of the corporations as power blocks, which would, of course, leave Kotchetkova in undisputed control. A military dictatorship would creep upon the planet b
y default rather than by coup. It was only as this grey future began to take shape that she began to appreciate the full demoniacal cunning of Kotchetkova.

  * * *

  Reiner, by comparison, could hardly be thought of as subtle, Elizabeth thought. His hard uncompromising eyes bored into her, seeking to intimidate her before she started.

  "Mr Reiner, I'll come to the point," she started, and then became immediately irritated with herself. She was losing the initiative before she even began. "I have reasonable evidence that your staff have been carrying on illegal mining on Mars."

  "Bullshit! If you had reasonable evidence, you wouldn't be starting like that."

  "You deny mining at the Charitum Tholus?"

  "Of course I deny it." Not a flicker of emotion.

  "Then your corporation clearly has no claim to the area."

  "I wouldn't say that." Uncertainty at last!

  "If you know nothing about the mine there, clearly you have no claim to it."

  "Not necessarily. Our archives include a number of claims lodged on theoretical grounds. The only reason we haven't pursued them is we aren't allowed on Mars." He gave a smile that showed a return of confidence.

  "I guess that's a question to be left to the Martian settlers."

  "If they're ever in a position to settle questions," came the scornful retort.

  "So you're confident the aliens will win?"

  "I leave those matters to Kotchetkova. Me, I'm just a simple businessman."

  "Who wouldn't be the slightest bit interested in who murdered his non-existent team at the Charitum Tholus?"

  There was a pause, then a shrug. "I can't do anything about Martian crime." A hit! Baxter was correct.