any of them could have given Federico much of a chase.
'But it is so. I've tried all the frequencies. None of them are open.'
'Let me try.'
'You are welcome.'
She handed him the laptop, and he punched in his Cav callsign. A code number flashed.
'It's acknowledging, but it's not putting me through. It's like we've been put on hold, at the back of a queue.'
'Freak.'
'I didn't think nuns used language like that.'
'You've obviously never met one before.'
'That's true.'
Federico held the road superbly. Stack envied Chantal her vehicle.
'It is possible that all the fort's communications channels are in use to deal with some emergency,' she said.
'But unlikely.'
'Even so, it's possible.'
'I've never heard of anything like that, and I've been in the blue for fifteen years.'
'In that case, the demons are in control of the fort. That's bad.'
'You're telling me.'
'No, it's worse than you think. Fort Apache is a node on the datanet. It's more complicated than St Werburgh's. The systems all interface. If our enemy builds up significant strength, it can launch an attack on El Paso, and if El Paso falls, then all of Central and South America will fell.'
'Serves 'em right.'
'Spoken like a true American. Do you really imagine that national boundaries count for much in Hell? If your neighbours go down in flames, they'll drag you too. El Paso is strategically placed for plenty of databases within the United States as well.'
'I've got a legitimate grievance against the CAC, Sister. My father died in action in El Salvador in '73.'
His Dad had been career army. He had been killed in a battle with socialist guerillas during the Intervention. It wasn't even supposed to be a shooting war.
Chantal was quiet for a moment. 'My father, too, is dead. I'm sorry.'
Stack caught something new in her voice, a touch of doubt, or fragility.
'When they shipped him out, he knew he wasn't coming back. Don't ask me how, he just knew. Before he left. Dad told me to do anything with my life except join the army. And here I am with stripes down my legs and none on my shoulder. Your old man, how did he feel about your…your calling?'
She flicked a row of switches on the dash. The windshield darkened against the glare of the sun. 'I did not develop a vocation until after his death. He was not especially devout, but I hope he approves of my life. He too was a soldier, in a manner of speaking…'
'You said you were Swiss, didn't you? I thought Switzerland was neutral?'
'Switzerland, yes. My father, no. He was, in his way, a crusader. He fought in the international courts for a better world. His name was Thomas Juillerat. He was murdered. Perhaps you've heard of him?'
'No, I'm afraid not.'
'It doesn't matter. Europe must seem very remote from here. I think my father made a difference. I think he did something for the world.'
'The world, huh? The same one you've retreated from?'
She turned to him. 'I am not a member of a sequestered order, Stack. I'm as much in the world as you are.'
'You sure aren't like Sister Bertrille.'
Chantal laughed. 'Sally Field, The Flying Nun
'Is there anything you don't know?'
'The future.'
'Yeah, that…'
VI
Lauderdale was washing his hands under the tap in the storeroom. He was being wilfully wasteful of the fort's recycled water. There was no one to stop him.
He could do whatever he wanted now.
His androids were still stood to attention. He saluted them, and laughed. The GloJo he had popped was taking effect. He needed the extra buzz. He had been under a lot of strain recently.
Under its dustsheet, one of the androids saluted back. Lauderdale jumped, his heart catching, and reached for his side-arm.
There was someone under there posing as an android.
He fired, and heard the slug ricochet off a durium skin. It was a real android, all right. The spent bullet spanged against the wall and fell to the floor.
With his gunbarrel, he tore the polygene away from the saluting form. It was an android all right, faceless and expressionless.
Could there be a malfunction?
Carefully, he approached. He had his access cardkey. The inspection plate was in the small of the thing's back.
'Yo, there major, gimme some skin…'
The flipper-hand descended from its salute and struck the hot gun from Lauderdale's hand.
'Yo, bro…'
'What?!'
The android stepped off its podium, loose-limbed and gyroscopically balanced.
'It's me, Gilbert the Filbert, the Colonel of the Nuts!'
The android clapped its hands and stamped its feet. The metal floor shook, and the noise rung in the air.
'You been doin' good work, sonny. Lots o' nice blood spilled. Jus' the thang for a long, hot afternoon. A tall, cool drink o' deepest-crimson gore.'
The android hand-jived to an unheard tune. Its head nodded in time to the rhythm. Lauderdale backed against the door. He fought his fear.
'It's you, isn't it?' he said.
'Who were you expecting? Perhaps, Frank Sinatra?'
Lauderdale sank to his knees, and prayed. He gave thanks to the Summoner.
'Dooby-dooby-doo,' sang the demon.
'Praise be to Joseph.'
'Aww, quit grovellin', babe. That's such a bring-down. It ain't lawful to be that awful. Lawdy-lawdy, Lauderdale, get yo ass in gear or face the fear.'
Lauderdale stood up, unsteadily. He looked into the metal face, trying to see the ghost in the machine.
'That's better, hepcat.'
'The power. You have built up the power?'
'Ain't yet, but it's gonna be…'
The plan was going perfectly. Soon, El Paso would fall. And then the Continental Americas would be easy meat. The Hour of Joseph was within sight. Lauderdale felt a great thirst, a ravening hunger, an unquenchable lust, a ferocious aggression, a delicious need for food and drink and women and blood. He remembered Elder Seth's
