A Cat at Bay

by Alma Boykin

  “Adele, should we go look for . . ?” Panpit asked, looking north up the road.

  The older woman thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, although part of me wants to. We’d be underfoot and we really need to leave and tell the men what happened, once the car arrives. In fact it should be here.”

  As the woman stood waiting, watching for the Graf’s car and driver, they heard a commotion and saw a stocky young dark-haired man in a dark colored jacket stagger, as if tripping. “Sir, are you all right,” a familiar voice asked loudly, before yelling, “Get back, he has a bomb vest!” Rough hands grabbed the women, hauling them backwards and down onto the pavement as police swarmed towards Rachel’s voice, some of them carrying a bomb blanket. The small brunette, looking worse for wear, emerged from the edge of the pile of high-vis vests and body armor and trotted in a crouch over to where Adele and Panpit had taken shelter.

  “Are you two all right?” Rachel asked the astonished women.

  “Yes. You?” Adele replied, voice cold.

  “Mostly intact. I think I see the car, back behind all the panda cars and black marias.” Rachel offered Panpit a hand.

  “Oh, you’ll want these,” Rachel said absently as they threaded their way between the vehicles to the armored grey Mercedes waiting a hundred meters or so down the street. Rachel swung her rucksack off and handed Panpit her purchases. “They’re unharmed.” Her cold tone and odd behavior discouraged questions and for the moment Adele didn’t press or scold her.

  A military driver opened the rear doors of the car as soon as he saw the trio approach. “Adele, may I have my phone back?” Adele tossed it at Rachel’s head and the alien caught it neatly, then opened the front door herself. Panpit slid into the car behind Adele, and the driver shut the doors.

  “General von Hohen-Drachenburg wants you on guard,” he told Rachel, who nodded and shrugged into her shoulder holster before taking the front passenger seat.

  Rachel could hear Panpit’s sobs through the closed partition of bulletproof glass. She shunted her own feelings aside, focusing on her duty. Their driver was very good, but there was still a chance that someone might try to attack them or they might get caught in another bombing attempt. Only when the car stopped safely in the garage of the hotel where the GDF people were meeting did Rachel start to relax. She let the driver lead the two wives through a back entry, away from prying eyes, and followed slowly. There’s going to be hell to pay and I don’t want to see the bill before I have to.

  Rachel ducked into a women’s washroom to get the worse of the blood and other things off her hands and face. She took out her contacts and put on her patch. No need to upset poor Panpit any further. She took the back stairs up to a very private secure conference room. Her identification card unlocked the door and she eased in to find Joschka von Hohen-Drachenburg and Rahoul Khan holding their wives in their arms. Panpit had buried her face in Rahoul’s chest as he stroked her hair and murmured into her ear. The Austrians’ backs were to the door and Rachel walked silently over to some chairs in a far corner, sat down, and closed her eyes, finally letting herself tremble with reaction. Thank you for getting us here safely she prayed.

  “Commander.” General Jones handed her a glass of water.

  “Thank you,” she said, then drained it and set it on the table beside her.

  “Report,” the Welshwoman ordered. Rachel told Jones everything that had happened between Jones’ phone call and scenting the second bomber. The other four had come closer and the two women settled into their chairs, husbands standing behind them. Rachel didn’t spare herself as she described what she had done to Mrs. Khan. She got up, then dropped onto one knee beside Panpit’s seat. “I’m very, very sorry that I hurt you. I didn’t want to cause you pain, but I needed the information fast.”

  Panpit wiped her eyes and said very quietly “Apology accepted Rachel.” Rahoul burned with black anger, but he kept his peace for the moment.

  “Then what happened, Commander?” the Graf-General prompted, blue eyes cold.

  She stood back up, swallowing hard. “I realized that there wasn’t one more suicide bomber, there were two. One heading north and the other south. And one was going to detonate his explosives. I,” she closed her eye for a moment, then returned to the story. “I got into the second bomber’s mind and tricked him. He set his vest off in almost the same place where the first bomb had been, thinking that he was already at the flyover on the north end of the road. I tried to be sure that no one else would get hurt, so when he stumbled over some debris, he thought he in the middle of a group of paramedics and . . .” She swallowed her gorge and continued. “Then I picked up the trace of the third bomber and tracked him back towards the south entrance.

  “I nearly made a fatal mistake. I sensed two minds exalting in what had happened, and what was coming next. The emotional load was too much, between the bomber, the wounded, and all the other people swirling around, so I had to go on gut instinct. One of the two walked directly towards the ambulances, where Adele and Panpit were standing. That seemed to be the greatest danger, especially when he started limping as if he were one of the injured. I couldn’t attack him straight out so I fell into him, ‘accidently’ knocking him over. As soon as his jacket came open, I grabbed a handful of wires, pulled them loose, and yelled that he had a bomb. And almost got flattened under the dog-pile that followed. The ladies can tell you the rest, my lord general.”

  The humans glanced at each other and back at Rachel. Jones gave her advisor a skeptical look. “Adele said that when you returned, your hands were covered in blood and dirt. Where did that come from?”

  “I helped those that I could as I hunted for the other bomber, ma’am.”

  Adele von Hohen-Drachenburg’s expression softened a little at the explanation and she nodded slightly.

  “One thing, Commander,” Rahoul asked. “How did you know that the second bomber was going to detonate? And why didn’t you stop the others by tearing up their minds, like you did to my poor wife?”

  Both the Graf-General and Jones started to speak but Rachel raised her hands. “No Generals, I deserved that one. Because I remembered the lecture, sir. There had been two bombs that detonated, both in the market. I couldn’t change that, sir. Damn it, I can’t change things, only ameliorate them!” She snarled, angry at herself and at the Laws. She turned and took a few paces away from the group, then leaned against the wall, eye closed. “And I ran out of energy, couldn’t risk getting into the wrong head, or getting trapped inside.”

  She heard murmurs of discussion, then a silence that stretched longer. Evelyn Jones cleared her throat, and Rachel sensed her anger and distrust. I’m not up to a lecture.

  “Can we postpone the rest of the debriefing?” Rachel pled. “I think we all need a few minutes peace. Gräfin Adele and Panpit worked far beyond the call of duty, especially Panpit. And I feel like I’ve been swimming through an abattoir’s cesspit after touching those creatures’ minds.”

  Jones nodded, as did General von Hohen-Drachenburg. Rahoul didn’t seem satisfied but Panpit stood up and put her hand on her husband’s arm. “I just want to go to the room right now. Please, love?”

  Rachel didn’t move from her slouch as the others started walking towards the door. “Ah, Colonel? Is there something you wanted to ask me?” she said, catching Rahoul’s eye.

  He hesitated and Joschka also paused, then whispered something to Adele, who nodded curtly. “I’ll be up in a moment, my Rani,” Khan told his bride. Joschka followed the women out and had a few words with Jones, then returned and shut the door, locking it.

  Rachel straightened up and folded her arms, waiting. The graying Austrian officer stayed by the door, listening and watching as Rahoul advanced on the xenologist. “What the God damned bloody hell were you thinking? What if you’d been wrong? Panpit could have been killed! And ripping apart my wife’s mind! I, I,” he spluttered, growled, then swung around and backhanded Rachel. Her head thumped against
the wall and after a few seconds she felt carefully to make sure he hadn’t broken her jaw.

  Joschka left his post by the door and pulled the furious officer away from Rachel. Rahoul clenched his fists but kept them at his sides. “Why the fuck did you let the third bomber get so close? You should have stayed with Panpit, like Jones ordered you to!”

  Rachel snarled in the back of her throat, an utterly inhuman sound. Eye icy cold, she shook as she fought to control herself. “Because I didn’t know! Balkonda, you flaming twit! At least I remembered that there was more than one.” Her voice dropped to a hiss, her accent thickening. “Do not yell at me anymore, Rahoul. You did not have to feel and see what the Gräfin, Panpit, and I did, and you did not have to wade through the mind of a horny sadist dreaming of all the kuffirs he was going to kill and all the houries eagerly awaiting his enormous wang!”

  “Enough, both of you! Col. Khan is honor satisfied?” Joschka asked. The South Asian officer took a deep breath, then nodded. “Commander, you did what you could within the bounds of the Laws. So stop beating yourself up and that’s an order.”

  Anger exhausted, Rachel murmured, “Yes, my lord general.”

  Joschka stepped back and folded his arms, then smoothed his beard. “I’ve let you say and do what was needed in order to keep things from festering. This will be the end of the matter, as far as Jones and I are concerned, provided both of you keep your mouths shut. Otherwise Jones and I will find ways to discipline you for violation of a direct order, Commander, and for striking a fellow warrior, Colonel.”

  The British officer and xenology specialist both nodded and Rachel extended her hand. “I’m sorry, Rahoul. I shouldn’t have let fear overwhelm my self discipline.”

  He accepted the apology. “Forgive me for letting anger get the best of me,” and they shook.

  Rahoul left to go take care of Panpit and let her know that her relatives were all safe, leaving Rachel and Joschka alone in the conference room. “The blood on your hands wasn’t entirely from the injured, was it?”

  “No sir. I left my marks on the third bomber. He’ll never walk normally again, among other problems. But Jones and Khan don’t really need to know that, do they?”

  He considered the matter. “Probably not. Adele and Frau Khan certainly don’t.” The foreigners shared feral smiles and Rachel turned and started walking away. “Ahem.” Joschka cleared his throat.

  “Yes, sir?” Rachel ducked, afraid of what he was going to say or ask next.

  Instead, the graying officer came over and pulled her into a close embrace. She stiffened, then clung to him, leaning on his calm strength. He freed one hand and rested it on her head; bending to whisper into her ear, “Thank you for bringing my Adele back to me. And for bending the Laws as much as you could.” After a moment Joschka released her and they straightened up. Then he pointed at the door. “Weg!” Shoo! For once, she obeyed without comment.

  An hour later, Rachel sat staring out the window. Why do I feel guilty? I did what I had to, what I needed to, didn’t break any Laws. Damn it, I shouldn’t feel like this. I think I’m just hungry is all. She ran an inventory. Hungry. That’s it. This is supposed to be a quiet advisory position. Why did I let Joschka talk me into it? She levered herself out of the chair and shrugged on a jacket to cover her holster. I wonder where those detonators came from. The humans won’t have that style for at least what? Fifty years?

  The fur on her neck started to rise. “You know,” she whispered to the empty room. “This reminds me of the last time Joschka and I fought together. Who’s supplying what and why?” Rachel shook all over. “Go eat something. You’re being paranoid.”

  (September 27, 2007)

  “So that’s the status of everything I’ve found thus far. That said, does it strike you that this year has been too quiet?” Rachel asked Joschka as she leaned back in the command chair of the Dark Hart.

  His voice came through a speaker. “It does, at least for you. We will not speak of the Russians or the Australians.”

  “Agreed. They are truly unspeakable.”

  She heard his snort. “So is the British foreign minister, but that’s neither here nor there.”

  No argument here, but what’s that? A bit of motion caught her attention and she saw a woman’s hand reaching into the timeship. “Someone’s arrived. I’d better go.”

  “Understood—and be careful, Rakoji,” Joschka warned.

  “Always.” After a year, and all the witnesses, the government officially states that Islamists had nothing to do with the attack? It’s a good thing Rahoul’s on family leave because otherwise he’d be clawing my door down wanting me to go after the Foreign Minister. She turned off the speaker and turned her head to see Evelyn Jones peering into the ship. Rachel caught her snarl just as it started.

  Jones blurted, “Your name is Rakoji?”

  Fewmets. Rachel leaned back and closed her eye. “It’s part of it, yes. How much did you overhear, ma’am?”

  “Just the last bit.”

  Rachel ran her hands through her loose hair, then opened her eyes. “Do not, under any circumstances, let anyone know what you just heard. Please, don’t. It’s not safe. And welcome aboard the Dark Hart, I suppose.”

  The general peered at the cramped interior of the scout ship. “Dark Hart, as in deer or as in Valentines Day?”

  “Deer.” Rachel recited, “ ‘As a hart longeth for the flowing streams so longeth my soul after thee oh God,’ to use the words of the Psalmist.” She pointed to a highly stylized stag woven on the cover of a pillow perched atop one of the computer screens. “Apparently my late father was fond of deer. That or he was prescient, which is more likely.” She levered herself out of her semi-reclined seat, continued, “All of which is neither here nor there. What can I do for you, ma’am?” I need to get you out of here before you upset the central processor and me both.

  “Nothing, for a change. Good news: Rahoul and Panpit are now the proud parents of twins! A boy and a girl arrived at 0300, and all four are doing fine.”

  “That’s wonderful! I’m so glad to hear that everyone’s well, although,” Rachel sobered, “has Rahoul gone looking for the other man yet?”

  It took Jones a second or two to catch the joke. “Rachel!”

  Rachel grinned, totally unrepentant. “Sounds like cause for a drink, unless you’ve already had your tea?”

  Jones shook her head. “Not yet. It’s too early for me to think that far ahead. My luck, choosing a career better suited to larks than owls.”

  “True. Or mine with a position requiring me to be around in summer. Why don’t we adjourn to my quarters and I’ll put a pot on.” Rachel gestured for Evelyn to precede her out of the ship. Because I don’t want you anywhere near my equipment. You tend to poke buttons.

  As the two women emerged into the lab, Jones heard a third voice from within the concealed ship, this one neither male nor female exactly, and speaking a strange, half musical, half guttural language, with metallic clips and rolled r’s in it. Rachel paused, excused herself for a moment, and returned to look at something on one of the screens. As her superior waited, Rachel leaned forward with both hands on the console and ducked her head, then looked up at the low ceiling while replying in the same language. The first voice spoke again, and Rachel repeated part of her phrase, more slowly and insistently. The lights in the ship dimmed. “Computers. I should ask Sgt. Torres if the Catholics allow you to count computer work towards penance—especially voice-activated computers. So, what kind of tea would you like, ma’am?”

  Rachel took a week’s leave and returned in worse condition than when she’d left. “Someone tried to kill me,” she admitted to Captain Sandra Monroe before the staff meeting started. “Happens on occasion. Occupational hazard.” For once Zabet was right about other people’s politics, not that I’m ever going to tell her that. She’d gloat for the next two centuries at least.

  General Jones’s arrival forestalled further conversation. Good, Jones
thought. Everyone’s here and on time for once. “Be seated. Captain Monroe, start please. I’ll hold my business until later.” That generated some curious rustles but no comment. Jones kept an eye on her xenologist, weighing her. Rachel listened to the other reports and added her own brief contribution, but she seemed to be distracted, Jones thought. Maybe Rachel had already heard rumors about what had started during her absence and was being her usual suspicious, paranoid self. She needs to get over it or leave. I think the time has come for her to retire.

  Jones reported last this time. She’d wanted a bit more time to decide on how to phrase her announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have some potentially very good news,” she said, noting the sudden and total focus on everyone’s faces, including her advisor’s. “As you may have heard, we have been contacted by a possible ally, one that seems willing to assist us with both expertise and perhaps some technology as well. At the request of Vienna and Horseguards I’ve kept things quiet thus far because the contact has been very cautious, as we all can understand! However, as you have no doubt already noticed, Commander, they have given us a sample of their equipment as a gesture of good will,” and the sandy-haired general looked at the smaller woman, inviting comment.

  Rachel nodded but remained silent, irritating Jones a little. She continued, “They have expressed a desire to meet with several of the Regimental staff, and I believe the time has come to do so. Questions?”

  To her mild surprise, everyone but Rachel had one. Captain Sandra Monroe inquired, “What is this group called, ma’am?”

  “The Veitketers. They are humanoid mammals.”

  Major Kwame Ngobo, the adjutant wanted to know “Has Vienna given complete approval? And are they sending additional staff or will we be drawing from the Army?”

  Jones smiled broadly. “Vienna knows, and General Jaques McPherson and the Secretary have given me full authority as senior officer on site. If the first meeting goes well, they’ll send someone.”