I laughed, and to my relief after a few seconds he laughed with me. "My joining days are long over," I said. "If I were ever to sign up again, though, it would be with the Saw—but I prefer to work alone."
He nodded. "Fair enough. Does working alone mean I could interest you in selling back that PCAV? Now, we could use it here."
"Sorry, but no," I said, deciding the less I talked about Lobo the better. "It's proven to be a handy machine to have around."
"Well, one of the newer models will cost the FC quite a bit more," he said, "but with what Kelco is paying in penalties, they can afford it." He looked at Lim, who was again studying the display. "We better get back to work."
As I left, they huddled over the display and began talking about inspection timings and reporting intervals. Though no frontier planet ever likes the presence of law enforcement, Macken had definitely improved its lot by moving from being under Kelco's sole control to operating as a multicorporate world with Lim's team ensuring that both companies obeyed the rules.
Barnes grabbed me before I reached the exit.
"She'd like to see you," he said.
I motioned for him to lead and followed him into what I immediately recognized as his old office; the view was as lovely as before. Vaccaro sat behind his desk, the room now hers. After Barnes ushered me in, she waved him away. He closed the door behind him as he left.
"Mr. Moore," she said, "are you leaving us already?"
"Yes."
"This is an unofficial meeting," she said, "and it's not being recorded."
"I didn't know we were meeting." I regretted being so sharp as soon as the words left my mouth, but as always, dealing with a bureaucrat put me on edge.
She ignored the tone. "As this incident and others have demonstrated, there are occasions in which unofficial freelance help can be very useful to any government—and very profitable for the freelancer. Check your wallet."
I did. Everything Chung had promised that Xychek would pay, along with a bonus from the FC, sat in my local account. I moved it to a different account immediately; no point in not being careful. "Thank you for the bonus. Though it wasn't necessary, I appreciate it."
She waved her hand, dismissing the topic.
"It's almost nothing," she said, "compared to what's possible if you continue in this sort of relationship with the Coalition."
I ignored the bait. "Xychek's payment is also in my account," I said. "Would you happen to know where Chung is, so I can thank him and say goodbye to him and Jasmine?"
"They both left yesterday," she said, a slight smile playing across her face. "He wanted to meet with his key staffers on Lankin, and she begged to get away from this world as quickly as possible."
I hadn't realized I'd expected more from Jasmine, but the hollow feeling in my stomach told me I had. I knew it was illogical to want her to thank me for remedying a mess I'd helped create, but that thanks, I now had to accept, was indeed what I'd wanted—that and a bit of forgiveness from Jasmine for returning her to Slake in the first place. I've lived too long not to see the obvious connection—Jasmine forgiving me would be a bit of cheap emotional salve for the open wound left by my inability to find and save Jennie—but sometimes knowing what's happening has absolutely nothing to do with being able to stop it from occurring.
"Mr. Moore," Vaccaro said, bringing me back to the present. "Would such a relationship interest you?"
"Thank you," I said, "but no. I'm looking forward to a long vacation."
She turned back to her work, dismissing me. "Very well. Please understand that offers such as this don't stay open long."
Until this conversation, I'd known only that I wanted to get away from this region. Now, her tone convinced me that I needed to go very far away. She struck me as the sort of person who saw the world as composed entirely of people either with her or against her, and I'd just joined the wrong team by refusing to be on hers.
I let myself out.
Barnes was waiting. He followed me to the building's exit and out into the sort of clear beautiful day I hoped to find on another planet somewhere many jumps from here.
"Almost a month ago, you told me the time you'd bought us wouldn't do much good," he said, "but it did, and I thank you for it—and for everything you've done. This is a great planet. I'm hoping we can all work together to keep it great even as we populate it."
I wasn't sure how much I believed in humanity's ability to manage any planet well, but someone had to nurture the belief that we could and work to prove it was justified. I was glad he was willing to try.
"Good luck," I said. "I hope you succeed." I stared at the forest beyond the cleared perimeter, sniffed the rich air that blended the smells of trees and the ocean, and basked in the gorgeous day. "It is a beautiful world."
I had to hand it to the FC: It did hospitals right. The one where Gustafson was recovering looked to be as modern as any facility I've seen—and I've been inside far more medical buildings than most. Gleaming, self-cleaning walls, robotic crawlers working tirelessly on all surfaces to minimize infection spread, monitoring and treatment equipment I couldn't begin to understand: Everywhere I looked, the hospital practically trumpeted the triumph of technology over illness and injury. Of course, the discreet entries on the building's nav displays for the coroner's office and the morgue reminded the close observer that technology didn't win all the time.
Top was stretched out on a bed in a private room with a Saw corporal standing guard outside. A wall-sized window afforded him a great view all the way to the ocean. Schmidt sat beside his bed. Wires ran from two different machines to his legs, which twitched under a sheet as the system worked his muscles.
"Gunny," he said when he spotted me, "it's good to see you. I hear we won."
"Gunny," Schmidt said.
"We did indeed," I said. "I'm sorry it had to cost you so much."
"This?" he said, laughing and pointing to his legs. "I have more problems with the new hip than with the reattachment they've done here. The first shot hit below the knee, and the second got only meat, so I was lucky. I should be as good as ever in a couple of weeks. I didn't even need any new parts this time."
"Back to Lankin then?" I said.
He looked at Schmidt, and for a few seconds his expression was the softest I'd seen on him. "Nah. The colonel's okayed some R&R." He looked at her again, then back at me. "We're going to spend some time here, do a little swimming, take it easy, you know." They both smiled broadly at the last bit.
Their smiles were infectious; I found myself smiling, also. "Sounds good," I said.
"What about you?"
"I'm taking off as soon as I leave you. I feel a strong need to be somewhere far away."
"I understand," he said. "I told the colonel you wouldn't be interested."
I opened my pack, pulled out a small box and an entry card, and put them on the bed beside him. "I thought you might enjoy these."
"What are they?" he said.
"The card is for my beach house. It's paid in full for almost two more weeks, so someone might as well use it. The box contains the tracker and the remote for Bob. He's strong enough to pull two of you, and I'm here to tell you, swimming with Bob is one heck of a ride."
Schmidt looked at him. "Bob is that ray you've been talking about, isn't it?" she said.
Gustafson actually blushed. "He's a magnificent creature," he said to Schmidt, "and if you spend a little time looking at him, I think you'll feel the same way." He faced me. "Thanks, Gunny, for both. I appreciate them."
I nodded and turned to leave.
"Will I see you again?" he said.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Top, but I hope not."
He laughed. "Fair enough. If I do see you, I hope you're beside me."
"You can bet I don't want to be across from the Saw in any action," I said, "so that much you can count on."
One ship remained between us and the jump gate.
Lobo was freshly fueled, and we'd toppe
d off his supply and weapons stores, courtesy of the Saw tab that Kelco was paying.
The green light of the gate bathed the transport in front of us as it slipped into the aperture, disappearing bit by bit until it was, I trusted, in the Lankin system. About a minute later, a large vessel, an FC hauler by its size and nose logo, emerged.
Our turn was next.
"You still haven't said where we're going after Lankin," Lobo said.
I pondered the options again. I needed to get away from this region of space, because Kelco, Xychek, and the FC all had reasons they might want to find me. Osterlad's successors might also decide having their founder killed by an outsider was bad for business.
What I should do next, however, remained a mystery.
I could try to get back to Pinkelponker to see if Jennie was still alive, but I had no more plan now for reaching my old home world than I had in the past, and the blockade around the single jump-gate aperture that reached it was reported to be the toughest in the galaxy.
I could check out the rumors of another survivor of the Aggro experiments, but I'd seen the disaster and didn't believe anyone else could have survived it. Even if someone else had made it out, did I really want to find him?
I could try to find a job, because I'd need to work eventually, but for the foreseeable future I was set for money.
When I can't understand the big picture, which is most of the time, I focus on the bit I can see in front of me. I needed to be away from here, and I needed to be difficult to track. The fastest path to those goals was a crooked one.
I watched as the last bit of the hauler emerged from the gate.
"Jump randomly," I said, "at least six times, and don't go to the same gate twice. We'll figure out the next step when we get where we're going, wherever that is."
"Will do," Lobo said, "though that's not much of a plan."
I was so glad to be leaving that I didn't even mind his sarcasm.
We eased forward, moving closer and closer to the aperture until its utter blackness filled our vision and blotted out the heavens. In that perfect black I could see a dark and dangerous universe, but I could also see worlds yet to form, an unwritten future waiting for me to fill it with the bright colors of days to come.
In that moment, I hoped for brightness.
We jumped.
About The Author
Mark L. Van Name, whom John Ringo has said is "going to be the guy to beat in the race to the top of SFdom," has worked in the high-tech industry for over thirty years and today runs a technology assessment company in the Research Triangle area of North Carolina. A former Executive Vice President for Ziff Davis Media and a national technology columnist, he's published over a thousand computer-related articles and multiple science fiction stories in a variety of magazines and anthologies, including the Year's Best Science Fiction. Jon & Lobo stories have appeared in a Baen anthology and Jim Baen's Universe.
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