"Where did you get it?"
"Those kids living out in that settlement had quite a collection of them."
"Those scavenging little rats!"
"Highly industrious rats," said HMK. She took the disc from Johnny and inspected it before offering it to Iron Teeth. "Over the years they've stolen enough of these explosives from your mine to blow the whole place into orbit." Iron Teeth refused to touch the deadly device.
"Which brings us to the point of this discussion," said Johnny.
"Oh no," said Iron Teeth. Her face went white.
"Oh yes," said HMK. "We've placed these charges all over your mining complex. We didn't miss a single shaft, machine or building. We've placed them at points of strategic weakness and concealed them so thoroughly that it would take you weeks to find them. And we've set the timers, and believe me, you don't have weeks. The entire crater is rigged and set to blow."
"Blow? No. When?" said the woman, who seemed to have been reduced to monosyllables.
Johnny Alpha smiled thinly and said, "One hour from now."
"Why are you doing this to me?" shrieked Iron Teeth.
"Because you're an evil old bag who's been sending wee kiddies to their doom," said Middenface.
"What do you want me to do?" begged Iron Teeth.
"Just one thing," said Johnny. "Get off this moon."
"Off it?"
"That's right. Clear out with your entire staff."
"But the mine-"
"Either you go now or you stay and get blown up with the mine when it goes," said Johnny.
"In exactly one hour," said HMK.
"Only fifty-seven minutes now," corrected Johnny.
"You can't do this to me!" squealed the woman.
"Listen, Iron Teeth," said Middenface. "You'd better get out of here before our demolition charges blow."
"My teeth are made of steel!" screamed the woman. But she lurched up from the sofa, ran into her bedroom and began hastily packing a suitcase.
Word got around the mining complex with impressive speed and within twenty minutes every living member of the mine's staff had crowded onto one of the large freight rockets with whatever belongings they had managed to pack. Johnny and the others watched their departure from the lounge of the manager's living quarters, sitting on the sofa with the twins Greta and Grün, who had been waiting in concealment in the crawler.
They watched through the window as the freight rocket took off, its ivory teardrop shape lifting on a silent column of blue flame rising over the distant mountains. "They made remarkably good time," said Middenface, inspecting a chronometer. "They've got off the moon with thirty-three minutes to spare before the place was set to blow up. That would certainly be a comfortable safety margin."
"It sure would," said Johnny. "If the place was actually rigged with explosives." HMK chuckled and handed Johnny the disc shaped explosive charge. "How many of these did we actually have?" she said.
"Just the one," said Johnny, turning the disc over in his hands. "And this one doesn't work. The explosive element was taken out years ago."
"Stella used it to blast a hole in the bedrock for a new latrine for Our Town," said Greta. "The old septic tank had blocked up back into the hydroponic farm and it was all a big mess."
"Don't feel obliged to go into any detail," said Middenface.
"What do you think Iron Teeth is going to do when she learns we bluffed her into leaving?" said Middenface.
"She'll shit and go blind," said HMK. "If you'll pardon my French."
"It doesn't matter what she does," said Johnny. "By the laws of space salvage, this abandoned mining installation now belongs to whoever is first to take occupation of it." He looked at Greta and Grün. "That means you, kids."
"Well, we certainly won't do a worse job running it than that old metal mouthed monstrosity," said the little girl. She elbowed her brother. "Come on Grün, let's check the ore manifests and find out what the cash flow is for this place." The twins left the room through a hissing dilating door without a backward glance.
"They're going to run the place?" said Middenface.
"I don't see why not. They've been surviving against all odds ever since they could walk," said Johnny. "And they know this operation inside out from their days down the mines."
"But they're just naïve kids."
Johnny smiled his thin smile. "I have a funny feeling that those naïve kids are going to do just fine."
Middenface still wasn't convinced. "They may have a legal right to take over the mine by the laws of space salvage. But there are plenty of buggers out there who don't give two hoots about legal rights or laws. What if old Iron Teeth comes back with her friends and tries to take the place by force?"
Johnny's smile widened a fraction. "You saw what those kids managed to do with one old rocket launcher and a few assault rifles?"
"Sure," said Middenface. "They damned nearly wiped our arses for us. But-"
"But just imagine what they'll be able to do with an arsenal of state of the art weaponry," said Johnny.
Middenface grinned. "I dread to think. But where would the little perishers get hold of an arsenal of such state of the art weaponry?"
Johnny shrugged. "We may just be able to help them out with that." He looked at Hari Mata Karma. "Asdoel Zo can afford to pay for some excess fire power for a worthy cause, don't you think?"
HMK shrugged and inspected her finger nails. "Why ask me?" she said. Her voice was oddly icy.
"So, the little children are going to run the mine from now on?" said Slim Drago, who was always at pains to make sure he understood the current situation. "And we'll give them guns? And nobody will bother them?"
"That's about the size of it, big fella," said Middenface.
"We'll leave them so much ordnance it would take a full armada to shift them." Johnny stared out the window. "After all, this crater makes an excellent defensible position."
"Why Johnny," said HMK in a teasing voice. After her strange chilliness of a moment ago, she seemed to be back to her normal playful self. "You're just a big softie at heart. Why don't you settle down and raise a dynasty of rug rats? I think you'd make a great dad. I can just see you with a pipe and slippers. And of course up to your elbows in nappies."
"Ugh," said Middenface. "Nappies. Now there's a genuinely terrifying thought."
Johnny stood up. "Get your things together. We'd better be going. We've still got a posse to recruit."
"I still don't understand why we have to split up," said Hari Mata Karma in a petulant voice. Middenface sighed and braced himself. HMK was a lovely little woman all right, and a bundle of fun when she was in a good mood. But when anybody did anything to cross her she acquired the disposition of a pit viper. "Johnny's already explained once."
"I don't care. Let him explain again. In words of one syllable, so the stupid little woman is sure to understand." HMK almost spat the words out.
"Words of one syllable would be good," Slim Drago said hopefully. He stood slightly apart from Johnny, Middenface and HMK, as though he understood and accepted that he wasn't a full member of the team when it came to discussing matters of policy. Or maybe he simply wanted to stay out of the argument. Middenface couldn't blame him. It was supposed to be a friendly discussion, but whenever HMK thought she wasn't getting her way, things tended to turn vicious.
They were all sitting in the small dining area of the galley adjoining the Louis L'Amour, the sleek C-class star clipper which Asdoel Zo had provided for their use. The Louis was an ideal vehicle for flight or pursuit, though it wasn't armoured or equipped for any battle scenarios beyond a light skirmish. It was a large vessel, with the capacity to carry seventy passengers and crew, in addition to berthing a complement of three extremely fast and manoeuvrable ketches in its hold, each of which could be used as one- or two-man vessels. It also carried, by legal requirement, a sizeable life boat capable of safely carrying away the maximum number of people who were permitted to travel in its mother ship
, albeit stacked in the cold paralysis of cryosleep. The Louis L'Amour was so well designed and so lavishly equipped with robots, servo-mechanisms and support software that it could be piloted by two humans or even, at a pinch, one.
They were twenty hours outward bound from the moon called Disraeli 4.1 where their search for Stella Dysh had reached an abrupt dead end. Johnny, however, had a pretty good idea where Stella could be found, thanks to the combative moppets Greta and Grün. The twins had told him that she had been taken prisoner by a fellow Strontium Dog - an unusual situation, but by no means unique. The Dogs had a code of conduct but, like any sentient beings, they found ways of bending the rules and accommodating their consciences to suit a given situation.
"You don't even know who this Strontium Dog is," growled Hari Mata Karma. "The one who kidnapped your precious Stella Dysh." She had a bowl of steaming mushroom and red pepper quinoa stew in front of her, served up by the galley's autochef. She had been picking at it with considerable dexterity but little enthusiasm, using a pair of chopsticks. Now she impatiently stabbed the chopsticks into the bowl with a savage gesture that made Middenface think that she'd rather be driving them into Johnny's windpipe. She was certainly a volatile wee woman. "I don't think you're in any sort of a position to chop your manpower in half and go on a kamikaze mission with your old chum just because you don't think I know my ass from my elbow."
"And me too," said Slim Drago. "I don't know my ass from my elbow either." He said it without any trace of anger towards Johnny. He was just reaffirming his loyalty to HMK. It was embarrassingly clear that the huge mutant was nursing a schoolboy crush of gargantuan proportions for the little woman.
Johnny took a deep breath. "Okay. Let me try to explain..." There was a note of growing impatience in his voice that Middenface recognised and understood. Johnny was a man of action. Negotiation and arbitration weren't his strong suits. Talk wasn't his strong suit. Violent combat was his strong suit. Nevertheless, he was taking pains to try and calm HMK down. Like Middenface, he had seen enough of her in action to begin to think of HMK as a valuable member of the team. It wasn't so much what she did; it was what she didn't do. Like panic, or lose her head. Even when they'd been under fire she'd maintained her own characteristic brand of pissed-off cool.
"I'll take your points one by one," said Johnny.
"Yes, that would be nice," said HMK with icy sarcasm. "Would you?"
"First of all, it's true that we don't know who the Strontium Dog is, the one who took Stella."
"Yes. That was one of the salient facts that your murderous, mop-headed cherubs failed to avail you of."
"Murderous cherubs," Slim Drago chortled ponderously. "You sure do talk pretty."
"Thank you, Slim," said HMK politely. But her steely blue and brown gaze didn't budge from Johnny's own extraordinary eyes.
"By the way, what's a cherub?" said Slim. "And what's salient? And what's avail?"
"Shut up, Slim," said HMK. "Just shut up, all right?"
"All right," said Slim cheerfully.
"It doesn't matter that we don't know who the bounty hunter was," said Johnny. "What matters is that we know where they took Stella Dysh." Johnny gestured towards the viewing screen mounted on the wall of the galley, in which the giant shape of an immense green and rust streaked planet hung. It looked to Middenface like a bowl of pea soup into which someone had stirred a few spoonfuls of chilli sauce. Middenface's mouth watered. He wished they could get this discussion over with so he could serve himself some food.
"That planet down there is the Queen Victoria Penal Colony," said Johnny.
"What, the entire planet?" said HMK caustically.
"Yes, pretty much," said Johnny. Middenface was pleased to see that the little spitfire didn't have him rattled at all. "Queen Victoria is an ocean planet. It's virtually all water except for some small island archipelagos at either pole, which are just barren rock. Underwater mountains pushing up into a toxic methane atmosphere."
"You make it sound divine," said HMK. "Have you considered a new career writing travel brochures?"
Johnny ignored her. "Like I say, the whole planet is basically ocean. And the penal colony is under water. Obviously the colony doesn't cover the whole ocean floor..."
"That would be a very big prison," said Slim Drago. "Whoops. Sorry. I'll shut up again."
"But the entire ocean floor is legally part of the prison's protectorate," said Johnny. "So anyone who sets foot on it is liable to be arrested and incarcerated."
"For a very long time," added Middenface.
"Without trial or sentencing?" demanded Hari Mata Karma.
Johnny smiled grimly. "On Queen Victoria they've done away with annoying details like due process. No one is imprisoned here because they've been tried or sentenced. They're here because somebody has paid to have them locked up."
"But that's terrible," said HMK. She appeared genuinely scandalised, even to the point of seeming to forget that she was supposed to be furious at Johnny. "How can they get away with that?"
"Because the people they lock up don't have money or influence. Or at least, not as much money or influence as their enemies who've paid to have them locked up."
"It's a total disgrace," said HMK. "And now you've told me about it, I'm all the more determined to join you in your prison break. I want to help you kick those Queen Victoria bastards in the balls."
"In the balls," chuckled Slim Drago. "Oops. Sorry."
"I appreciate the sentiment," said Johnny, "but-"
"But you still don't want me tagging along, because I'm a stupid little woman who couldn't possibly be of any use to you. Because of course I don't possess any useful talents or qualities."
At last Johnny's temper flared up. "Can't you get it through your thick head that this has nothing to do with you personally? You have plenty of talents and qualities. But none of them matter a damn."
"And why not?" said HMK coldly.
"Because this is a two-man operation."
"I see, you and Middenface against the entire staff of a heavily armed prison world. Yes, well I certainly find that a compelling and convincing argument."
"I don't care if you do or you don't," said Johnny. "The fact is that I've got a plan and the plan will work, but it only takes two of us to pull it off. And while we're busy breaking Stella Dysh out of prison, you and Slim can make yourselves useful doing something else for us."
"Oh really? Like what? Making cups of tea?"
"No," said Johnny. "Going after Bel/Ray."
"And who, dare I ask, is Bel/Ray?"
"The next name on the list of this posse we're recruiting."
HMK seemed fractionally mollified. "Well at least you're giving me and Slim something fairly important to do."
"Yeah, fairly important," said Slim.
"But why don't we all work together on the jail break," persisted HMK. "Then we can all work together on picking up Bel/Ray."
"Because, like you said, Queen Victoria is a heavily armed prison world." Johnny smiled. "And when we bust out one of their inmates there's going to be hell to pay. This whole sector is going to be too hot for us. So we need to make sure that Bel/Ray is recruited and ready to go by the time we've rescued Stella Dysh, so we can hightail it out of here."
There was a moment's silence, then HMK said, "I'm sure there's a flaw to your logic... But I can't see it immediately."
"That's a relief," said Johnny.
"Now, Johnny, are you sure you want to do this?" said Middenface as he strapped his friend into the gravity couch. Once Johnny was securely fastened, he began to cover his body with thick inflatable slabs of multi-ply soft plastic. The slabs were from the hold of the Louis L'Amour where they were used to pad cargo and protect it from damaging vibrations. Middenface was piling them on top of Johnny with much the same idea in mind.
"Don't you start," said Johnny Alpha. "That discussion with HMK nearly killed me."
Middenface chuckled for a moment, then was serious again. "
Just make sure that this wee stratagem doesn't kill you, old friend," he said.
"Do you have a better plan?" said Johnny.
"No, but I've got an interesting variation on this one," said Middenface.
"What's that?"
"Let me pilot the crash ship and you wait in orbit until I send for you."
Now Johnny chuckled. "Nice try, Archibald. But I dreamed up this little endeavour so I get first shot at carrying it off."
Middenface sighed and shook his ugly, misshapen head. He adjusted the last of the soft plastic blocks and stepped away from the gravity couch. "This is a damned dangerous little scheme. And in aid of what? Springing this one wee lass Stella Dysh so she can join our team."
"Our posse," Johnny corrected him.
"Whatever we call it," said Middenface. "Do we really need her? Can't we just get someone else and leave her where she is?"
"Leave a fellow Stront locked up for the rest of her days in that hellhole, for a crime she never committed?"
"Ah yes, well, when you put it like that," said Middenface. "You're a stubborn man, you know that, Johnny Alpha. I don't suppose there's any point in trying to talk you out of blowing up the engine either."
Johnny shook his head. "It's got to look like a genuine accident. If the prison guards detect an explosion in low orbit with the distinctive signature of one of my engines blowing up, and then I fall down the gravity well in this crippled vehicle and splash down in the ocean near their colony it will all make for quite a convincing accident."
"Yes, well just mind it isn't too convincing," said Middenface.
He turned his back on his friend and made his way through the central axis of the ketch, floating in zero gravity. When he reached the airlock, he secured the helmet on his space suit, ducked inside the lock and set it to cycling. When the cycle was complete, he floated out of the ketch into space. Stars gleamed above him in an infinite ceiling. At his feet was the monstrous face of Queen Victoria, its curve filling his entire vision with its swirling green surface streaked rust red. Or blood red, thought Middenface.
Day of the Dogs Page 7