But the mood of the evening was broken. Jonny tried two or three other rooms for a few minutes each, hoping to regain the relaxed abandonment he'd felt earlier. But it was no use, and within a quarter hour he was back outside the Raptopia, walking through the cool night air toward his car, parked across the street a block away.
He'd covered the block and was just starting to cross the road when he became aware of the low hum of an idling car nearby. He turned to look back along the street—and in that instant a car rolling gently along the curb suddenly switched on its lights and, with a squeal of tires, hurtled directly toward him.
There was no time for thought or human reaction, but Jonny had no need of either. For the first time since leaving Adirondack his nanocomputer took control of his body, launching it into a flat, six-meter dive that took him to the walkway on the far side of the street. He landed on his right shoulder, rolling to absorb the impact, but crashed painfully into a building before he could stop completely. The car roared past; and as it did so needles of light flashed from Jonny's fingertip lasers to the car's two right-hand tires. The double blowout was audible even over the engine noise. Instantly out of control, the car swerved violently, bounced off two parked cars, and finally crashed broadside into the corner of the building.
Aching all over, Jonny got to his feet and ran to the car. Ignoring the gathering crowd, he worked feverishly on the crumpled metal, and had the door open by the time a rescue unit arrived. But his effort was in vain. The car's driver was already dead, and his passenger died of internal injuries on the way to the hospital.
They were the two teen-aged boys who had accosted Jonny in the Raptopia.
The sound of his door opening broke Mayor Stillman's train of thought, and he turned from his contemplation of the morning sky in time to see Sutton Fraser closing the door behind him. 'Don't you ever knock?' he asked the city councilor irritably.
'You can stare out the window later,' Fraser said, pulling a chair close to the desk and sitting down. 'Right now we've got to talk.'
Stillman sighed. 'Jonny Moreau?'
'You got it. It's been over a week now, Teague, and the tension out there's not going down. People in my district are still asking why Jonny's not in custody.'
'We've been through this, remember? The legal department in Horizon City has the patroller report; until they make a decision we're treating it as self-defense.'
'Oh, come on. You know the kids would have swerved to miss him. That's how that stupid turkey hop is played—okay, okay, I realize Jonny didn't know that. But did
'So have the patrollers. I'll admit I don't understand that part. Maybe it's something from his combat training.'
'Great,' Fraser muttered.
Stillman's intercom buzzed. 'Mayor Stillman, there's a Mr. Vanis D'arl to see you,' his secretary announced.
Stillman glanced questioningly at Fraser, who shrugged and shook his head. 'Send him in,' Stillman said.
The door opened and a slender, dark-haired man entered and walked toward the desk. His appearance, clothing, and walk identified him as an offworlder before he had taken two steps. 'Mr. D'arl,' Stillman said as he and Fraser rose to their feet, 'I'm Mayor league Stillman; this is Councilor Sutton Fraser. What can we do for you?'
D'arl produced a gold ID pin. 'Vanis D'arl, representing Committe Sarkiis H'orme of the Dominion of Man.' His voice was slightly accented.
Out of the corner of his eye Stillman saw Fraser stiffen. His own knees felt a little weak. 'Very honored to meet you, sir. Won't you sit down?'
'Thank you.' D'arl took the chair Fraser had been sitting in. The councilor moved to a seat farther from the desk, possibly hoping to be less conspicuous there.
'This is mainly an informal courtesy call, Mr. Stillman,' D'arl said. 'However, all of what I'm going to tell you is to be considered confidential Dominion business.' He waited for both men to nod agreement before continuing. 'I've just come from Horizon City, where all pending charges against Reserve Cobra-Three Jonny Moreau have been ordered dropped.'
'I see,' Stillman said. 'May I ask why the Central Committee is taking an interest in this case?'
'Cee-three Moreau is still technically under Army jurisdiction, since he can be called into active service at any time. Committe H'orme has furthermore had a keen interest in the entire Cobra project since its inception.'
'Are you familiar with the incident that Mr.—uh, Cee-three Moreau was involved in?'
'Yes, and I understand the doubts both you and the planetary authorities have had about the circumstances. However, Moreau cannot be held responsible for his actions at that time. He was under attack and acted accordingly.'
'His combat training is that strong?'
'Not precisely.' D'arl hesitated. 'I dislike having to tell you this, as it has been a military secret up until recently. But you need to understand the situation. Have you ever wondered what the name 'Cobra' stands for?'
'Why...' Stillman floundered, caught off guard by the question. 'I assumed it referred to the Earth snake.'
'Only secondarily. It's an acronym for 'Computerized Body Reflex Armament. I'm sure you know about the ceramic laminae and servo network and all; you may also know about the nanocomputer implanted just under his brain. This is where the... problem... originates.
'You must understand that a soldier, especially a guerrilla in enemy-held territory, needs a good set of combat reflexes if he is to survive. Training can give him some of what he needs, but it takes a long time and has its limits. Therefore, since a computer was going to be necessary for equipment monitoring and fire control anyway, a set of combat reflexes was also programmed in.
'The bottom line is that Moreau will react instantly, and with very little conscious control, to any deadly attack launched at him. In this particular case the pattern shows clearly that this is what happened. He evaded the initial
