«Probably affinity-bonded,» Jane said. «Remember, that means its master can hear and see everything it can.»
Amanda didn't trust her voice, she simply nodded.
«I'll go and get the pickers.» Jane turned slowly, and began walking towards the southern orchard. The hound swung its head to follow her, but didn't make any other move.
They were police. Their distinctive blue-grey tunics were visible while they were still a couple of hundred metres from the farm. Amanda waited patiently as the four horses walked unhurriedly towards her. She hated the arrogance of their approach, the way she was made to feel inferior, not worth them making an effort over.
Sergeant Derry was the leader, a black woman who must have massed nearly twice Amanda's body- weight. It wasn't fat, just muscle bulk. Amanda wondered what the woman's blood chemistry would be like to produce that kind of grotesque growth; she must have received several hormone gland implants. Her white and beige stallion was built on the same scale, carrying her without any noticeable discomfort. The three constables riding with her were normal men.
«You're the owner here?» Sergeant Derry asked.
«That's right.»
«Hmm.» Derry's optronic lens flashed up a file, sending minute green and red script scrolling over her right iris. «Amanda Foxon. Lived here by yourself since your husband died. Grandfather was granted full land title under first settlement law.» She grinned and swivelled round to scan the farmyard and the orchards beyond. «Very nice, very cosy. Your family seems to have done all right for itself, Amanda Foxon.»
«Thank you.» The pickers, led by Jane, began to filter into the farmyard. Even their presence didn't do much for Amanda's confidence.
«Well, well.» Derry grinned round. «Look at what we have got ourselves here. This has got to be the sorriest old collection of Jew boys and girls I've seen in a long time. I really hope you all have your ID chips.»
«We have,» Jane said.
It was the awful fatigue in her voice which kindled Amanda's anger, the hopelessness of the eternally beleaguered. «They're working for me,» she barked up at the Sergeant. «I don't have a single complaint.»
«Glad to hear it,» Derry said. She was looking at each of the pickers in turn, her optronic lens imaging their faces. «But we can't be too careful with the likes of these, now can we?»
«I'm sure you can't.»
«Where are you all from?»
«I'm from Harrisburg,» Jane said. «The Manton suburb.»
«I know it, you people turned it into a real shithole. What are you doing here, then?»
Jane smiled. «Picking fruit.»
«Don't smartmouth me, bitch.»
The hound growled, a low rumbling as its black rubber mouth drew back to expose long yellowed fangs. Jane flinched, but held her ground.
«They're picking fruit,» Amanda said forcefully. «I asked them here to do it, and they're excellent workers. Their private lives are none of your business.»
«Wrong, Amanda Foxon. What they get up to in private is always police business.»
«You're being ridiculous.»
«Am I? You live in Harrisburg county, an original family, so you and your son will be Christians, then?»
«No, we'll be atheists, actually.»
Derry shook her head ponderously. «It doesn't work like that. You'll understand eventually. If they take a shine to this area, every neighbour you have is going to be a Jew in five years' time. It's like a goddamn invasion force; ask the decent people who used to live in Manton. They turn the local schools over to teaching their creed, their wholesalers will come in and set up a new commercial network, one that doesn't include you. This farm will get frozen out ready for a nice kosher family to take it over at way below what it's worth, because no one else will touch it. The only way your precious Guy will get to carry on here is if he gets circumcised and you book him in for his bar mitzvah.»
«You're quite pathetic. Do you know that?»
«We'll see. If you ever looked outside your little valley of paradise you'd see it's already starting. Govcentral policies don't work here, not any more. Those bastards are destroying us with their equal settlement policies. They won't listen to us when we complain, all they do is keep sending us more human xenocs who don't belong here. You'll come round to our way eventually, Amanda, and when you do, when you remember who you really belong with, we'll help each other, you and me.»
The hound padded over to the pick-up, and started sniffing round the back of the vehicle.
Amanda didn't dare risk a glance at Jane. «What are you doing here? Why did you come?»
Derry was frowning at the hound. «We're assigned to Harrisburg's C15 Division.»
«I'm sorry, I don't really know much about police force divisions. What does that mean?»
«C15 is responsible for counter-insurgency. Basically, we hunt down terrorists, Amanda Foxon. And right now, we're after a particularly nasty specimen. Abdul Musaf. He planted a viral vector squirt in the Finsbury arcade last night. Fifteen people are in hospital with cancer runaways sprouting inside them like mushrooms. Two have developed brain tumours. They're not going to make it. So obviously, we're rather keen to talk to him. You seen anyone like that around here?»
I should tell her, Amanda thought. A viral squirt was a terrible thing to use against innocent people. But I can't be certain she's telling the truth, a woman who thinks Jews are a plague.
«No. Why, should I have?»
«He killed one of our pursuit dogs a couple of kilometres south of your track. But he was hurt in the fight. Can't have got far.»
«OK. We'll keep watch for him.»
The hound had wandered over to the big patch of wet ground outside the kitchen door.
«Right.» Derry pursed her lips, suspicious and ill at ease. «What about you, Jew girl? You seen him? He's a Muslim, you know, one of the Legion.»
«No. I haven't seen anybody.»
«Huh. Bloody typical, don't know crap about anything, you people. OK, I don't suppose you'd harbour a towelhead anyway.»
«If you're a Christian, why have you got an affinity-bonded dog? I thought the Pope banned the faithful from using the bond over a century ago.»
The hound raised its head swiftly, swinging round to look at Jane. The lips parted again, allowing long strands of gooey saliva to drip onto the soil.
«Don't push your luck. The only reason you're not under arrest right now is because I don't want to waste taxpayers' money on you. You get back on that road when you're done here, head for your precious Tasmal.»
«Yes, sir.»
Derry snorted contemptuously. «Take my advice, Amanda Foxon, kick this thieving rabble off your land the second your crop's picked. And next year, hire some decent Christians. Get in touch with the Union, they have plenty of honest casual labourers on their books.»
«I'll remember what you said.»
If Sergeant Derry was aware of the irony, she didn't show it. She pulled on her reins, wheeling the big stallion round. The hound trotted out of the gate ahead of the horses.
Amanda realized she was sweating, muscles down the back of her legs twitched as if she'd just run to town and back. Jane patted her gently.
«Not bad for an amateur rebel. You faced her down.»
Guy pressed himself to her side, and hugged her waist. «She was horrid, Mum.»
«I know. Don't worry, she's gone now.»
«But she'll be back,» Jane muttered. «Her kind always are. Your file's in her memory now.»
«She'll have no reason to come back,» Amanda said. She handed Guy over to Lenny, then went back into the farmhouse.
Blake was helping Fakhud to limp up the stairs from the cellar. Both of them were shivering.
«Did you give people cancer?»
