Part Seven: Holding the Fort
I
'That's some story, sister,' said Stack after Chantal had finished telling him why she was in Arizona. 'I suppose that's right, isn't it. Sister? I should call you sister.'
She stood up and stretched, catlike in her uniform. 'It'll do, but my name is still Chantal. We don't give up everything.'
She walked towards the entrance of St Werburgh's, and was haloed by the sunlight. It was going to be another hot day in the desert. Flies were beginning to buzz around the dead priest.
'But…but you're an Op.'
'It's a very old Agency. The church has always had soldiers. Father O'Pray was one, too.'
She went outside, found something, and came back. She had an old shovel over her shoulder.
'Now, we bury him.'
Stack looked at the mess. 'You'll have to get him loose first.'
The woman—the
'I have a handlase in Federico. You find a clear spot outside, and dig a grave.'
Stack reckoned he had the easier detail, but didn't speak up about it. He had the impression that Sister Chantal wouldn't go much for gallantry.
Outside, he picked out a plot away from the church walls, shucked his shirt, and set to digging. Inside the church, he heard the hiss of the lase cutting through steel, and the creak of machinery falling apart.
He was six feet into the sandy soil before Chantal brought the body out. She had tried to do something about the hole in O'Pray's chest, buttoning his coat over it, but nothing much could disguise the terrible wound. She had to wrestle his stiff limbs into a position of repose on his chest.
'That's deep enough, Stack.'
He climbed out, and took his shirt from the gravestone he had draped it over. Chantal cast her eyes over his wounds.
'Don't you need any medication for those? Federico has a full field hospital in his trunk.'
'I was drugged out yesterday, thank you. I'll let nature take its course.'
'There might be infection.'
'Nahh, US Cav morph-plus is two parts penicillin to one-part pain-killer, and I was tripped out on that for more than a day.'
The sun was overhead now, its light falling on the graveyard like a blanket of heat. Chantal had dirtmarks on her face and hands. She wiped them with a dampraguette, cleaning away the filth, and flexed her hands.
'The bellrope was burned.'
'So?'
'O'Pray died well, he should have the bell tolled. He should have a funeral.'
Stack looked up at the tower. The bellhouse was undamaged, apart from a few cracked slates. The bell hung motionless.
He drew his side-arm and shot it. The noise was unnaturally loud in the still quiet. The bell shifted, but didn't peal. He fired again, and scored another hit. This time, the clapper was displaced and Stack was rewarded with a resounding clang. He looked at Chantal. She unholstered her SIG, and pumped the whole clip at the bell, which swung vigorously, sounding out. The din was almost painful, and yet there was an aptness about it. Stack hadn't known anything about the dead man, but he felt that anyone who would choose to pursue his calling in Welcome would appreciate the rough music of ScumStopper and cast iron.
People appeared in the graveyard. Armindariz was there, sheepish and hung-over, and Tiger Behr, favouring his robo-leg over his real one. Pauncho the chef wobbled his belly up the low hill to the church. A tribe of children came in a column, led by a dignified woman in black. Sandrats shamefully detached themselves from their boltholes, shaking the dirt and dust from their domes, hanging their heads. Stack thought of checking IDs against the Wanted sheets back in the wrecked cruiser, but decided to offer a morning-long amnesty in honour of Father O'Pray. A cyke with a sidecar drew up. Shell and Miss Unleaded got off and out. They held their hands away from their guns and came into the churchyard. Shell raised his claw in front of his face to shield his eyes from the sun.
Chantal signalled to Armindariz and Pauncho that they should take the shovels. She went to Federico, and pulled out a loose black robe, more like a monk's than a nun's, which she tied about herself. It fastened around her neck, and left her face a white mask. The change was quite startling. Stack derived a perverse enjoyment from observing the expressions of those who had been in the Silver Byte last night. Even Miss Unleaded's impassive little face registered something approaching shock and surprise.
Chantal started speaking in Latin. It was the Mass for the Dead, Stack supposed. Some of the words sounded a little like Spanish, but he couldn't make much of it out. Wherever responses were expected from the mourners, he left them to the extensive Armindariz family. Father O'Pray's parishioners were used to funerals, he realized.
When she was finished, Chantal had Armindariz and his assistant sexton fill in the grave.
'Make him a headstone,' she told the saloon keeper, 'and rebuild the church.'
'Bot, there ees no more
She ripped her robe away, and scraped her fingers through her hair. 'A priest will come. Where one was, another springs up.'
Chantal got into Federico, and switched its systems on. One or two of the congregation had been eyeing the car lasciviously. They would have to be watched closely.
'Buonjuorno, sorella,' the Ferrari said. 'My senses indicate demonic activity within the immediate vicinity. Hostilities will be commenced within thirty seconds. You are advised to take evasive action at once.'
Chantal had her gun out. Stack looked around. The mourners were either shocked or bewildered by what must seem to them a sourceless voice. The children were huddled to their mother.
Armindariz paused in mid-shovel.
'What did that there car mean, Trooper?' asked Tiger Behr, hobbling to Stack's side. 'Demonic activity? What kind of rap is that?'
Stack turned to the old cyborg to explain.
Behr gasped. His eye widened, and his whole face thrust forwards, as if someone had just taken a sledge- hammer to the back of his head. He was choking.
The hostilities had commenced.
'Behr,' Stack said, 'what's wrong?'
The old man's robo-arm leaped out. Strong, durium-boned, leather-coated fingers seized Stack's throat.
Stack tasted his own blood, again.
II
Lauderdale watched closely as the techies pulled away the panels in the Ops Centre and snipped the relevant wires. Colonel Rintoon had given him a field promotion to Major, and put him in charge of sealing off Fort Apache against aggressors. All unauthorized communications with the outside world were forbidden, and Rintoon had posted loyal guards outside the Ops Centre with orders to summarily shoot dead anyone who tried to summon aid from any quarter. Rintoon believed that the rest of the US Cav was rotten with Maniak infiltrators. Lauderdale had
