Caliphate

mentioned how much he hated his nickname. 'Besides, if we even started, we'd have two companies from af- Fridhav on us in no time.'

'One company,' Hans corrected. 'The others would be split up watching the Swiss. It would take them hours to collect themselves and move.'

'Still,' Bernie said. 'The four of us against two companies of janissaries is . . . well, just not possible.'

'Three of us,' said Hamilton. 'Neither Hans nor I can fly an airship to get the slaves out. I know neither you nor Ling can, on your own, but you can be teleoperated by a qualified pilot.'

'We don't even know how we're going to get an airship,' said Ling.

'Rent one? Steal one?' asked Hamilton.

'Easier to rent, I think,' said Bernie. 'But then we have the problem with the crew. Not many are likely to risk getting shot down just to free some slaves. And while our expense account is effectively unlimited, there is probably no amount of money that would get someone to fly on those odds.

'Ah . . . then again, there might be,' Matheson added. 'That crew that brought us and the kids? They seemed pretty disaffected to me, at least one of them. It might be something. Maybe.' the Black agent shrugged. 'Maybe, if we rent the same ship that brought us here and then seize it, that one might help us. But we're not bringing any of them in on this in advance. There are already too many people involved.'

'All right then,' said Hans. 'Let's suppose that we can rent an airship and seize it. That takes . . . two people, one of them either Ling or myself?'

'Can't be you,' Hamilton said. 'We need you to get into the castle.'

'The best choice would be Ling and myself,' offered Bernie. 'That way, if one of us is taken out the other can still pilot.'

And besides, Bernie thought, it's not like I trust the Chinks not to have their own agenda. I'll feel a lot better if our escape is at least partially in my hands, not theirs.

'Which leaves only John and myself for both the castle and sealing off the road from af-Fridhav,' Hans observed. 'Can't be done. We'd need one more.'

'That would be me,' said Petra, whom everyone had thought to be asleep.

The fight over that one went on for quite a while.

'My little black ass,' said Bernie. 'She's only seventeen and she knows precisely nothing.'

'On the contrary,' Hans argued. 'At this point she knows altogether too much. Everything, except the reason, as a matter of fact.'

'Freeing the slave children and getting us out of here is all the reason I need,' said Petra. 'Striking out against the masters?' She laughed. 'That's all gravy.'

Hamilton found that he rather liked her laugh.

'She could control a line of command-detonated mines along the road from af-Fridhav,' he said. 'Not a lot of skill needed there.'

'Provided we emplace them,' said Bernie.

'We'd have to do that anyway,' said Hans, 'and some days in advance, too.'

'Where would we get the mines?' asked Hamilton. 'There's not enough time to gather the materials and make them.'

Hans laughed aloud. 'I'm sure you people have intricate forms and procedures for control of munitions. We don't. As long as the Christians don't get them there's little control, little organization for that matter. It's just a question of signing some out and having some reason for it.'

Bernie thought about that for a while before saying, 'One company from af-Fridhav. Call it . . . what? Five trucks? Six to be safe?'

'That sounds right,' agreed Hans.

'So . . . a dozen directional antivehicular mines. With det cord, wire and detonators. Can you get that many?'

Hans just nodded and said, 'I'll start by complaining about security around the castle and insist we put out some mines. I'll just take out extra. Say . . . mmm . . . half of those I'll use to refresh the security company's training in mines before we lay them around the castle. The rest we'll leave at the training location, intending to collect them later.'

'No,' Bernie said. 'A little too pat. Too likely someone will notice when they don't show up. Try something else.'

'If I had the dinar, I could bribe the men at the ammunition dump at Garmsch to give me extra, beyond what my colonel authorizes. It wouldn't be too suspicious, really. We have to bribe to get much of anything done in the Caliphate. I'll claim I need them for training and ask for an extra two dozen. Halfway between here and Garmsch we transfer over one dozen. Have you a vehicle that can hold a dozen?'

'Yes,' Bernie agreed. 'Barely. But what about the driver of the truck?'

'What driver? Driving is a manly thing here and I would drive. Loading would be done by the slaves at the ammunition dump and unloading by the soldiers here at the castle. I only need security if I claim I need security.'

'That would work,' Bernie agreed. 'We can meet you halfway and transfer the mines to the sedan. How do we get them set up?'

'A couple of days before, John and I will go to the road and find an ambush position, set it up, camouflage them, and bury the detonator nearby. Then we bring Petra there, hook everything up and leave her to set them off if she sees a column of trucks coming. Or I can drop them off myself and hide them.'

'I don't like that,' Bernie said. 'How's she to know it's really the right column, when she's out of communications?'

'I should have had myself chipped, after all,' Hamilton said.

'That wouldn't fix the problem,' Matheson disagreed, 'because one of us two has to go into the castle and the other has to grab the airship. No, the girl's going to be on her own anyway.'

'I could get us five tactical communications systems,' Hans offered. 'They're probably as good as what you are used to, since both the Empire and the Caliphate buy from China. Since I'm getting the weapons those would be little more trouble.'

'That might help,' Bernie conceded. 'But we'll have to modify the frequency so that Caliphate forces don't pick it up.'

You can do that, said the small voice in Ling's head. She said as much, aloud.

'Okay,' agreed Bernie. 'Now what I wouldn't give for a holocaust cloak.'

'A what?'

'Never mind. It's an inside joke, an old inside joke. And we still haven't figured out what to do at the castle. Or how to pick up and extract Petra, since she's going to be separate.'

af-Fridhav, Province of Baya, 13 Muharram,

1538 AH (24 October, 2113)

The amazing thing to Hamilton was that there were pleasure boats to rent, right there on the tightly guarded, watery border between Switzerland and the Caliphate. Military boats he'd expected. Fishing boats he'd expected. He'd come there, Petra in tow, looking for a way to steal one or the other.

But pleasure boats?

'Still,' he said to Petra, as the two of them put- putted across the water on the Caliphate side, 'they're awfully slow. And it isn't just a governor; they've got tiny little underpowered engines. We'd be out on the water for . . . '—he did some quick calculations—'ummm . . . nearly an hour. I could almost swim the lake as fast.'

'I can't swim,' Petra gulped. 'There were streams and lakes near home but . . . well, you can't swim in a burka.'

Hamilton nodded. 'It's not too late for you to learn but it is too late to learn to do it well enough to make it across this lake. It's got to be a boat. But these are just too slow. We'd never make it, not once the janissaries were alerted.'

He reached down to feel the water. 'Brrrr. Cold. We couldn't swim this without wet suits.'

'What are those?' she asked.

'Never mind. I'll show you once we're back home.' He said that last with more confidence than he felt.

That was the first time he'd so much as suggested he'd want to have anything to do with Petra—miserable houri that I am—since they'd met. She held onto that thought, that hope, very tightly. Maybe I might mean something more to him than just a body to use.

Hamilton didn't notice any flash of emotion or expression on Petra's face. Instead, he was looking to the south, generally. There, two patrol boats passed within a few hundred meters of each other. One was Swiss, he gathered, the other from the Caliphate. The two boats trained guns on each other as they passed. Though it was too far— about a kilometer away—for Hamilton to make out the faces, every line in the pose of the bodies exuded menace, hate, and outright eagerness to open fire.

Life was hard in Switzerland, Hamilton had heard more than once, and food was always rationed. But the million men and women of the Swiss Army took