rifles.
“Uh oh,” Moyo said. They had reached the town square, a pleasant cobbled district bounded by tall aboriginal leghorn trees. Two light-tracked tanks were drawn up across the road. The machines were impossibly archaic with their iron slab bodywork and chuntering engines coughing up diesel smoke. But that same primitive solidity gave them a unique and unarguable menace.
The Karmic Crusader had already stopped, its cheap effervescent colours quite absurd against the tank’s stolid armour. Moyo braked behind it.
“You stay in here,” Stephanie said, squeezing his shoulder. “The children need someone. This is frightening for them.”
“This is frightening for me,” he groused.
Stephanie stepped down onto the cobbles. Sunglasses spread out from her nose in the same fashion as a butterfly opening its wings.
Cochrane was already arguing with a couple of soldiers who were standing in front of the tanks. Stephanie came up behind him and smiled pleasantly at them. “I’d like to talk to Annette Ekelund, please. Would you tell her we’re here.”
One of them glanced at the Karmic Crusader and the inquisitive children pressed against its windscreen. He nodded, and slipped away past the tanks.
Annette Ekelund emerged from the town hall a couple of minutes later. She was wearing a smart grey uniform, its leather jacket lined in scarlet silk.
“Oh, wow,” Cochrane said as she approached. “It’s Mrs Hitler herself.”
Stephanie growled at him.
“We heard you were coming,” Annette Ekelund said in a tired voice.
“So why have you blocked the road?” Stephanie asked.
“Because I can, of course. Don’t you understand anything?”
“All right, you’ve demonstrated you’re in charge. I accept that. None of us has the slightest intention of challenging you. Can we go past now, please?”
Annette Ekelund shook her head in bemused wonder. “I just had to see you for myself. What do you think you’re doing with these kids? Do you think you’re saving them?”
“Frankly, yes. I’m sorry if that’s too simple for you, but they’re really all I’m interested in.”
“If you genuinely cared, you would have left them alone. It would have been kinder in the long run.”
“They’re children. They’re alone now, and they’re frightened now. Abstract issues don’t mean very much compared to that. And you’re scaring them.”
“Not intentionally.”
“So what is all this martial jingoism for? Keeping us under control?”
“You don’t show a lot of gratitude, do you? I risked everything to bring lost souls back to this world, including yours.”
“And so you think that gives you a shot at being our empress. You didn’t risk anything, you were compelled, just like all of us. You were simply the first, nothing more.”
“I was the first to see what needed to be done. The first to organize. The first to fight. The first to claim victory. The first to stake out our land.” She swept an arm out towards a squad of troops who had taken over a pavement cafй on the other side of the square. “That’s why they follow me. Because I’m right, because I know what needs to be done.”
“What these people need is some kind of purpose. Mortonridge is falling apart. There’s no food left, no electricity, nobody knows what to do. With authority comes responsibility. Unless you’re just a bandit queen, of course. If you’re a real leader, you should apply your leadership skills where they’ll do the most good. You made a start, you kept the communications net working, you gave most towns a council of sorts. You should have built on that.”
Annette Ekelund grinned. “What exactly were you before? They told me you were just a housewife.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Stephanie said, impatient with the whole charade. “Will you let us through?”
“If I didn’t, you’d only find another way. Of course you can go through. We even have a few children scooting around the town that you can take with you. See? I’m not a complete monster.”
“The buses need recharging first.”
“Naturally.” Ekelund sighed. She beckoned to one of the tank guards. “Dane will show you where a working power point is. Please don’t ask us for any food, I haven’t got enough to spare. I’m having trouble supplying my own troops as it is.”
Stephanie looked at the tanks; if she concentrated hard she could make out the fantasm shapes of the farm tractor mechanoids behind the armour. “What are you and your army doing here?”
“I would have thought that was obvious. I’ve taken that responsibility you prize so highly. I’m protecting Mortonridge for you. We’re only thirty kilometres from the firebreak they slashed across the top of the ridge; and on the other side, the Saldana Princess is preparing. They’re not going to leave us alone, Stephanie Ash. They hate us and they fear us. It’s a nasty combination. So while you go gallivanting around doing your good deeds, just remember who’s holding back the barbarians.” She started back for the tanks, then paused. “You know, one day you’re really going to have to decide where your loyalties lie. You said you’d fight to stop them throwing you back; well if you do, it’ll be at my side.”
“Ho wow, one iron-assed lady,” Cochrane muttered.
“Definitely,” Stephanie agreed.
Dane climbed into the Karmic Crusader with Cochrane and showed them the way to a line of warehouses which served the wharf. Their long roofs were all made from solar collector panels. When the buses were plugged in, Stephanie called her people together and told them what Ekelund had said.
“If any of you want to wait here while the buses go to the firebreak, I’ll understand,” she said. “The Kingdom military might get nervous about four large vehicles heading towards them.”
“They won’t shoot us out of hand,” McPhee said. “Not as long as we don’t cross the line. They’ll be curious.”
“Do you think so?” Tina said anxiously. A large lace hankie was pressed to her lips.
“I’ve been there,” Dane said. “It was a scout mission. I watched them watching me. They won’t start any trouble. Like your friend said, they’ll be curious.”
“We’re almost there.” Stephanie’s fixed smile betrayed her nerves. “Just a few more hours, that’s all.” She glanced back at the buses, putting on a cheerful expression as she waved at the children pressed up against the windows. They had all picked up on the gloomy aura of the darkened clouds overhead. “McPhee, Franklin; give me a hand with them will you. We’ll let them stretch their legs here and use a toilet.”
“Sure.”
Stephanie let Moyo hold her for a moment. He planted a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t give up now.”
She smiled shyly. “I won’t. Can you take a look in the warehouses for me, see if you can find some working toilets. If not, we’ll have to make do with tissues and the river.”
“I’ll go check.”
The big sliding doors of the closest warehouse were open. It was used to store tubing, row after row of floor-to-ceiling stacks. All its lights were off, but there was enough pink-tinged sunlight coming through the doors for him to see by. He started checking around for an office.
Silent forklift mechanoids were standing in the aisles, holding up bundles of tubing that had been destined for urgent delivery. It wouldn’t take much effort to start them up again, he thought. But what would be the point? Did a society of possessed need factories and farms? Some infrastructure was necessary, yes, but how much and of what kind? Something simple and efficient, and extremely long-lasting. He was quietly glad that kind of decision wasn’t his.
A pyramid of tubing shielded the man from Moyo’s perception. So he convinced himself later. Whatever the reason, he didn’t notice him until he had rounded a corner and was barely five metres away. And he wasn’t a possessed. Moyo knew his own kind, the internal glimmer of cells excited by the energistic overspill. This man’s biolectric currents were almost black, while his thoughts were fast and quiet. He was excessively ordinary in appearance; wearing pale green trousers, a check shirt, and a sleeveless jacket with DataAxis printed on its left breast pocket.
