Cobra Alliance

lay.

By the time he finished, Jonny's two other cases had been brought in. Bell went through them with quick efficiency, made a few notations on his comboard, and finally looked up again, smile still in place.

All set, Mr. Moreau,' he said. 'You're free to go.'

'Thanks.' Jonny put his satchel over his shoulder once more and transferred the other two bags from the counter to the floor. 'Is Transcape Rentals still in business? I'll need a car to get to Cedar Lake.'

'Sure is, but they've moved three blocks farther east. Want to call a taxi?'

'Thanks; I'll walk.' Jonny held out his right hand.

For just a moment the smile slipped. Then, almost warily, Bell took the outstretched hand. He let go as soon as he politely could.

Picking up his bags, Jonny nodded at Bell and left the building.

Mayor Teague Stillman shook his head tiredly as he turned off his comboard and watched page two hundred of the latest land-use proposal disappear from the screen. He would never cease to be amazed at how much wordwork the Cedar Lake city council was able to generate—about a page a year, he'd once estimated, for every one of the town's sixteen thousand citizens. Either official magforms have learned how to breed, he told himself as he rubbed vigorously at his eyes, or else someone's importing them. Whichever, the Trofts are probably behind it.

There was a tap on his open door, and Stillman looked up to see Councilor Sutton Fraser standing in the doorway. 'Come on in,' he invited.

Fraser did so, closing the door behind him. 'Too drafty for you?' Stillman asked mildly as Fraser sat down on one of the mayor's guest chairs.

'I got a call a few minutes ago from Harti Bell out at the Horizon Port,' Fraser began without preamble. 'Jonny Moreau's back.'

Stillman stared at the other for a moment, then shrugged slightly. 'He had to come eventually. The war's over, after all. Most of the soldiers came back weeks ago.'

'Yeah, but Jonny's not exactly an ordinary soldier. Harti said he lifted a satchel that must have weighed thirty kilos with one hand. Effortlessly. The kid could probably tear a building apart if he got mad.'

'Relax, Sut. I know the Moreau family. Jonny's a very even-tempered sort of guy.'

'Was, you mean,' Fraser said darkly. 'He's been a Cobra for three years now, killing Trofts and watching them kill his friends. Who knows what that's done to him?'

'Probably instilled a deep dislike for war, if he's like most soldiers. Aside from that, it hasn't done too much, I'd guess.'

'You know better than that, Teague. The kid's dangerous; that's a simple fact. Ignoring it isn't going to do you any good.'

'Calling him 'dangerous' is? What are you trying to do, start a panic?'

'I doubt that any panic's going to need my help to get started. Everybody in town's seen the idiot plate reports on Our Heroic Forces—they all know how badly the Cobras chewed up the Trofts on Adirondack and Silvern.'

Stillman sighed. 'Look. I'll admit there may be some problems with Jonny's readjustment to civilian life. Frankly, I would have been happier if he'd stayed in the service. But he didn't. Like it or not, Jonny's home, and we can either accept it calmly or run around screaming doom. He risked his life out there; the least we can do is to give him a chance to forget the war and vanish back into the general population.'

'Yeah. Maybe.' Fraser shook his head slowly. 'It's not going to be an easy road, though. Look, as long as I'm here, maybe you and I could draft some sort of announcement about this to the press. Try to get a jump on the rumors.'

'Good idea. Hey, cheer up, Sut—soldiers have been coming home ever since mankind started having wars. We should be getting the hang of this by now.'

'Yeah,' Fraser growled. 'Except that this is the first time since swords went out of fashion that soldiers have gotten to take their weapons home with them.'

Stillman shrugged helplessly. 'It's out of our hands. Come on: let's get to work.'

Jonny pulled up in front of the Moreau home and turned off the car engine with a sigh of relief. The roads between Horizon City and Cedar Lake were rougher than he remembered them, and more than once he'd wished he had spent the extra money to rent a hover, even though the weekly rate was almost double that for wheeled vehicles. But he'd made it, with a minimum of kidney damage, and that was what mattered.

He stepped out of the car and retrieved his bags from the trunk, and as he set them down on the street a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned and looked five centimeters up into his father's smiling face. 'Welcome home Son,' Pearce Moreau said.

'Hi, Dader,' Jonny said, face breaking into a huge grin as he grasped the other's outstretched hand. 'How've you been?'

Pearce's answer was interrupted by a crash and shriek from the front door of the house. Jonny turned to see ten-year-old Gwen tearing across the lawn toward him, yelling like a banshee with a winning lottery ticket. Dropping into a crouch facing her, he opened his arms wide; and as she flung herself at him, he grabbed her around the waist, straightened up, and threw her a half meter into the air above him. Her shrill laughter almost masked Pearce's sharp intake of breath. Catching his sister easily, Jonny lowered her back to the ground. 'Boy, you've sure grown,' he told her. 'Pretty soon you'll be too big to toss around.'

'Good,' she panted. 'Then you can teach me how to arm wrestle. C'mon and see my room, huh, Jonny?'

'I'll be along in a little bit,' he told her. 'I want to say hello to Momer first. She in the kitchen?'

'Yes,' Pearce said. 'Why don't you go on ahead, Gwen. I'd like to talk to Jonny for a moment.'