“Thank you, Phobos Control. Leaving your immediate control volume now.”
Both ships left the way they arrived. That is, one second, they were there, and the next instant they were gone with a slight burst of radio static and less obvious radiation. Simultaneously, there was a slight thump felt, as if someone had stomped on the deck out in the corridor.
“That’s some seriously spooky shit,” the lead controller told his flunky.
* * *
“Yoooah! Heads up! You have company!”
Mr. Mast was normally so softly spoken it was strange to hear him bellow so, but his voice was distinctive. It was common sense and courtesy to announce yourself plainly now. Anyone sneaking up on an occupied house was asking to be shot.
Vic didn’t bother to arm himself. He went out on the porch and just waved Mast up to the house. There was another mounted man with him and one on foot. If they were with Mast, they were OK.
“Eileen, would you please take Alice in the kitchen and keep her out of sight until I see what Mast and these other guys want?” Vic thought he knew but wanted to hear it first.
The man on foot was identifiable as his neighbor Arnold when they got closer to the house. The other man on a horse Vic didn’t know. Vic scanned in the distance all around until they tied their horses up.
“Come on in. I have some herbal tea that isn’t half bad if you’d like some to warm up.”
“That would be welcome. This is Arlo Ritner,” Mast introduced the new man. He was compact and wore a serious expression. “Arlo is ex-military and was in law enforcement in the neighboring county before The Day.”
“Eileen, set some tea to brewing, please,” Vic called to the kitchen.
“It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Eileen promised.
“What do you do now?” Vic asked Arlo.
“Pretty much the same. It’s just a matter of who pays and how we deal with the fact we have no functioning judicial system, also, how far I range. It seems like another life when I used to commute every day to work. The same distance is a hard-two-day trip now. I’m operating closer to the model of a bounty hunter in the old west than a modern deputy. Some of it pays very well, some of it is pro bono because it just needs to be done,” Arlo said, with an expansive ‘What are you going to do?’ gesture.
“Nobody at the courthouse?” Vic asked.
“The first week after The Day somebody torched the courthouse rather thoroughly with particular attention to all the records. If there were backups they probably were in the city and lost on The Day. It makes you wonder what somebody wanted to be covered up, or if they think they can somehow profit from it. I tried to track down a judge. One judge informed me he is now a gentleman farmer with no interest in serving unpaid, and the other judge’s home is empty. It appears to have been looted for the common stuff like food.”
“The Day might have caught him away from home. We’ve seen a lot of that. More so the places that were vacation homes,” Vic said. “Nobody objects to reasonable salvage. I do object to the fact some folks seemed to feel obligated to burn a place down once it was empty. It’s spiteful and wasteful. Even the lumber has salvage value.”
“People don’t want squatters moving in,” Arlo said. “Some go a little overboard on it.”
“How do you get paid? Just in case I need your services,” Vic added, to show why it was any of his business.
“I’m protecting two horse farms and a couple of smaller places that don’t breed but they have their own mounts. Horse thieving is a problem again and they rotate seeing that I have a mount available when I need one, like today. Other folks pay in kind or three-way deals. I’m happy to accept actual day work as a favor extended to me others wouldn’t be offered,” Arlo said. “I’ve fixed fences and helped dig root cellars. It’s honest work.”
Vic nodded. “I’ll put in a word with folks I know who might hire you. May I assume you are in Mr. Mast’s hire today?”
“Yes, but I’m just being paid to consider a wider service. Call it a free estimate. He wants to remove the Olsens as being a danger to the community. I’d need to hear a lot more about them to take such drastic action. We may not have a sitting judiciary and law right now, but we have to look to the day it is imposed on us again from outside. We may have to answer for our actions in its absence.”
“Or we may end up under a different authority, depending on how it goes between North America and the Texas Republic,” Vic said.
“That’s a possibility,” Arlo acknowledged. “We still would have to worry that folks who might have a grudge against us could accuse us of banditry.”
“What do you want to do to protect yourself?” Vic asked.
“Right now, I’d like to interview the girl you took in. From what Mast says, she is the sole source of accusations against the Olsens. I understand you never came in contact with them. I was told the girl stopped you on the road before you tried to go back past their place, and warned you that they intended to ambush you. Is that correct?”
“It is. We found her credible enough to avoid testing it. We took a long detour around the other side of the mountain to avoid them. It’s still a problem because we need to go back past to get to the chicken farmer we’re dealing with and to O’Neil’s. We have regular business with both of them. It’s too far to keep taking the long route to avoid them.
“This time, they wanted Mast’s motorbike when they heard it go past, but I’m still concerned it isn’t safe to pass them on foot. I’ll ask Alice if she is willing to speak to you. We haven’t pressed her to tell us everything that happened. It’s the sort of traumatic experience that can be disturbing to recount. I have to tell you, she looked a lot differently on the road. She was much thinner and dressed in literal rags with sneakers that were mostly duct tape.”
“If she’s willing, I’d like to not only interview her but write a transcript of it to protect us in the future. Sort of a deposition, as insurance for us.”
“Let me explain this to Alice, and ask her permission,” Vic said. “Be aware, we have not adopted her. I promised her she is free to leave, and take her things if she doesn’t care to stay with us. You should probably consider her an emancipated minor by the terms of our old law. Make yourselves comfortable,” he said, gesturing at the furniture, “I don’t think it will take long for her to say yes or no.”
Vic went in the kitchen and closed the door that had deliberately been left cracked open while they talked, so Eileen and Alice could hear.
“Could you hear that?” Vic asked Alice.
She nodded her head yes silently, but didn’t say anything.
“Are you able? Do you want to speak to them?” Vic asked.
“I don’t have to?” Alice asked in a soft voice.
“No, I meant what I said, that I’d ask you,” Vic assured her.
Alice thought about it a little bit.
“Can I talk to him with Eileen there?” Alice asked.
“He wants this as a record,” Vic explained, “so you’d have to tell it in front of everybody who will be witnesses to the document being accurate. I’m sorry if it’s hard with all the men.”
“Yeah, it is. If I do, I’ll feel responsible for what happens to the Olsens.”
“And if you don’t, you’ll be responsible if they ambush other people traveling along the road,” Vic pointed out. “No less because you won’t know who they were since you aren’t there now to hear them plan to ambush them. Sometimes there just aren’t any choices that are easy and make you feel good.”
“OK, bring them in, and let’s talk.”
“What do you want to know?” Alice asked Arlo after he was introduced.
“Alice, I’d rather not ask anything. If I ask questions people can accuse me of leading you to get the story I want to hear. They’ll say you could tell what I wanted to hear. I’d much rather you tell me the whole story of how you came to be with the Olsens right up until now. If I have to ask anything, I’ll do that at the
end, about anything I don’t understand. I’ll ask the rest of you to do the same,” he said looking around.
“I sort of remember bits and pieces about living in the city a long time ago,” Alice started, “but then when my parents bought this house out in the country. I was unhappy to leave my school friends, but it is pretty here. I could play outside in our yard because it was safer.”
She talked for a long time before she caught up to recent events.
“Since there has been so much snow now for a while, we’ve been staying inside most of the time. I’ve started writing out this whole story. That’s why I’ve been able to tell it so well, because I’ve been organizing it and trying hard to remember stuff to write down.”
Nobody spoke to interrupt her and they weren’t sure she was done. They’d stayed silent even when she went off on tangents, recounting things they didn’t think were relevant.
“That’s it. I’m done,” Alice said when none of the adults said anything right away.
“Thank you. I’m sorry we made you cry a couple of times. I appreciate that had to be hard to say out loud. I want you to know I totally believe you. I’d also like you to make a list of everything you remember them taking from your parent’s house. Especially things you would like to recover for yourself.”
Arlo looked at the other men, in turn, frowning. “I totally believe Alice, but it still boils down to the fact it’s one person’s word on the matter. Others will doubt Alice, just based on how old she is, without ever meeting her or listening to her. I’m not willing to lead a raid on the Olsens without some additional evidence.”
“I’m not sure how we can get that sort of truth, realistically,” Vic said. We don’t have the legal power to force them to testify or get a search warrant.”
“I would propose you bring Alice to the Spring festival. Let them see her there and gauge their reaction,” Arlo said. “If they act shocked to see her but solicitous and concerned, we’ve made a bad judgment. But if they act guilty or aggressive then their criminality is a self-indictment.”
Alice shuddered a little and looked scared. “I don’t think any of them are smart enough to put on an act of concern for me. They just act out however they feel without thinking.”
“Are O’Neil and this farmer in danger coming past them to the fair?” Arlo wondered.
“Probably not,” Alice said. “The house is set back and it’s hard to see much but the mailbox. They had others pass by who probably didn’t know anybody was living there and never planned to rob them. But when they heard the motorbike go past, they just went nuts. That was all they could talk about. They were obsessed with it.”
Vic frowned but didn’t contradict her. He didn’t trust them not to rob other travelers once they had the thought in mind and grew comfortable with it.
“If I go do this with you, can you keep me safe from them?” Alice demanded.
“Honey, I can keep you safe all by myself,” Arlo said. “You’ll have me and Vic and Mr. Mast all keeping an eye on you.”
“OK, but I still want to take my gun,” Alice insisted.
“You’d be a fool not to,” Arlo agreed.
* * *
Dionysus’ Chariot dropped well away from the extension of the Mars colony complex that poked out towards the landing field. Everything that could be was kept connected. The entire complex was one giant building with only a few smaller stand-alone buildings housing functions too dangerous to be attached to their living quarters. The fuel depot and the power plant were air-gapped, as were the rover garages. The farms were isolated to protect the plants rather than the people. Once a mold or plant disease took hold the only solution sometimes was to open the grow room to the atmosphere and kill everything. Many Martian workers never had any reason to go outside at all.
The sort of free hanging ladder the Chariot’s crew usually used was too dangerous for the sort of inexperienced inside workers they were boarding. Knowing some of these people probably hadn’t been in a suit in years they had a folding inclined stair like a ship’s ladder fabricated to reach the hold. In less than half a standard gravity it looked flimsy but had a good margin of strength built in. It telescoped both ways from a center section with tapered ends. The design was intended to support no more than two people at a time in Martian gravity. They’d leave it behind on the field since there wasn’t room for it in the hold once they had passengers.
As soon as they landed, April’s bodyguard Gunny and Christian Mackay went back, opened the cargo hold, and deployed the cargo crane. Gunny grabbed the hook and rode it down. He had a weapon hanging on a web harness and a carry case full of security instruments. Mackay stayed above to run the crane and keep an eye on Gunny from a better vantage.
There was a line of people coming out of a large vehicular lock, but nothing that looked like freight unless it was so small somebody was carrying it. The suited figure in the lead made a gesture for those behind him to stop but took a couple of quick steps closer to Gunny. Too close.
Gunny turned to his right and threw up a left hand, stiff-arming the man on his chest so hard he bounced off and had to take a step back or fall. That move positioned the gun hanging on his chest pointed at the fellow with his right hand on the grips.
“Don’t crowd my space young fellow. I’m not your buddy that we need to touch helmets to have a private word. You’re supposed to have a package to load first. Where is it?”
The man’s face was easily visible through the visor and he was enraged but controlled himself.
“It’s coming, that’s not my job this morning. I’m Lieutenant Hoffman and I was charged with preparing these evacuees. They were allowed one hand sack for personal items and checked for contraband. They have all had anti-nausea injections in anticipation of being in zero g. I can assure you none of them represents a hazard. Here is a hard copy manifest of your passengers in the order in which they are lined up. I understand they may not all fit.”
“Thanks,” Gunny said taking the stiff copy. “Keep them lined up to the side and the path clear for our load, please. When it is inspected and loaded, then my partner will lower the ladder and we can board them. You want to make sure they all know it’s no more than two at a time on the ladder. That means the top one has to be all the way off and in the hold before another passenger climbs on at the bottom.”
“I made sure they all have their radios on but I’ll stand at the bottom and regulate who gets on until we’ve fit as many as we can,” Hoffman promised.
“You aren’t coming along?” Gunny asked.
The young man looked even more offended at that remark than he already did at being pushed back. “Certainly not,” he said spitting the words out.
“Not a concern of mine,” Gunny agreed. “You do that then, feeding them to the ladder.”
“It’s not possible to start embarking before the shipment?” Hoffman asked.
“Not a chance. You didn’t short these guys on air so you need to hurry, did you? I’d take that as a very bad faith action intended to pressure us. I don’t pressure worth a damn. The owner told me not to be scared to walk away if you try any crap.”
“I assure you they all have a full six-hour charge in their tanks,” Hoffman said.
“That’s good. A friend of mine had a little problem with his tank maintenance here. You don’t forget a thing like that,” Gunny said.
His utter lack of any reaction told Gunny that Lieutenant Hoffman knew the story of how April’s grandfather had his suit tanks sabotaged when they were trying to kill him.
April spoke to Gunny on a private channel.
“If I recall you, don’t say anything, just turn and grab the hook and Mackay will lift you. I’ll bring the engine up to an idle if I need to do that, not enough to lift us, just enough to make them all head back for shelter.”
Word must have been passed inside that everything was on hold until the cargo was produced. A suited figure appeared pushing a relatively small box on a cart. It was a st
andard hard-shell shipping container, smaller than a lot of suitcases. It had a web strap to grab with the crane hook and nothing about it would confuse the sensors they brought.
“You might want to take a few steps back,” Gunny suggested to the cart pusher. “I’m going to x-ray it and do a neutron back-scatter scan. No point in absorbing anything you don’t need to.”
The fellow was more than happy to comply.
Gunny got a pistol-like instrument from his case and pointed it at the box and triggered it. He repeated that aiming across from corner to corner both ways.
“Well, it’s not a bomb,” he said. “That’s always encouraging. I doubt that you fellows have the facilities to make one that a neutron back-scatter couldn’t ID.
Putting that away, Gunny got a point receiver and sat it on the far side of the box from him. He got another pistol-shaped device, this one an x-ray emitter. He swept back and forth always pointing through the box at the receiver on the other side. The device built up an image in his helmet display. A few areas lacked definition and he went back and swept those with a vertical motion giving it more data.
“This is safe,” Gunny decided. “There are lots of intricate metal shapes and it appears to be bagged and foamed in place. I’ll run this up to my partner. As soon as he secures it and comes back to the open hatch, we can send the first passenger up.”
Nobody felt conversational so he hooked the box on the crane and gave Mackay a thumbs-up jerk to take it away.
“We don’t need the cart if you want to return it,” Gunny suggested.
The fellow looked a question at Lieutenant Hoffman and got a nod of permission. That didn’t bother Gunny, but the wary look on the man’s face sickened him. It confirmed his opinion already growing opinion that Hoffman was an arrogant little bully.
“Ready!” Mackay called from above. Gunny wasn’t looking up while Mackay couldn’t watch the Martians for him. The longer they all stood waiting, the more the line of evacuees fidgeted, and the stiller and straighter Hoffman stood. Everyone was tense.
Mackay originally wanted to scan each person boarding as thoroughly as Gunny had just scanned the box. April wasn’t willing to sit that long and insisted on two outgas detectors on each side of the entry being sufficient. The Martians were all from ethnic groups that had no tradition of suicide bombers, but Mackay was excessively cautious.
A12 Who Can Own the Stars? Page 3