“It might not.”
“Sure it does,” Wayne said. “No one is going to mount a room like this without a purpose.”
“What I meant is that it might affect a coming clue rather than a previous one. If the Moon people got something that allowed them to attack Mars as Mars has been attacking Luna…”
“For instance,” Maud said, “Cavorite.”
“Yes,” Angelique agreed. “Cavorite. Who knows what Xavier might have had in store for us.”
Wayne shook his head. “That probably won’t work now.”
“I see it,” Sharmela said. “I think I see it.”
“What?” Wayne asked.
“A war. We landed in the middle of a war. A war that has been going on for centuries. Maybe millennia.”
“Cavor’s technology…?”
“Look at these screens,” the Indian girl said. “The design of the ships is kinda familiar, isn’t it?”
“Moon ships,” Wayne said. “Powered by Cavorite, attacking Mars. Crushing Martian cities.”
“As Mars crushed human cities? We saw no evidence of that when we left Earth.”
Angelique was getting excited. “So nobody spoke of it… directly. But the comments about ‘the war’ and ‘the unpleasantness’-it was the War of the Worlds.”
“Holy shit,” Mickey said. “And Mars is pissed at the Moon. And their armada is on its way.”
“I’d say that it’s almost here. There’s our time clock, people. If we were playing a game, we’d have to get out of here before the Martians blow us to hell.”
Wayne cocked his head a bit sideways. “Wait a minute… that means that Xavier had to be prepared to simulate an all-out Martian assault. Darla?”
“Maybe,” she said. “He’d have to shake the dome without damaging it. Sound, smell… big effects.”
“Stage explosives,” Scotty said. “If we can get to them, they might be very useful indeed. Good work. Damned good work. Let’s get going.”
32
1457 hours
Ten men and women had gathered beneath the harsh lights and sharp shadows of Heinlein’s northern motor pool. The newcomers might have been confused by Piering’s frantic calls, but all were committed to the task at hand. He recognized Gypsy from his own security team. Then there were Hazel and Lee, both tough women, a Communications tech and a Fabrication specialist. Then an ex-cop named Chambers, a guy from Food Services and an He3 miner.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why we called you here,” the big man said. “You are all either Security, or have police or military experience. All checked the little box on your contracts agreeing to serve in a Security capacity if needed. Well, you’re needed.”
“The dome?” the lanky miner asked. This was Jankins, probably the oldest man in the room. Tall, pale and looked like he was made of catgut wrapped around barbed wire.
“The dome,” Piering agreed. “The Beehive, currently called the gaming dome, is now controlled by an aggressive threat calling themselves ‘Neutral Moresnot,’ professional kidnappers with allegiance to no nation or cause. We’ll call them ‘the pirates’ for simplicity’s sake.”
“Fatalities?” the miner asked, his narrow face pinched.
“One that we know of.”
Chambers scowled. “Who?”
“One of theirs, thank God. We think his name was Victor Sinjin. British expat, mercenary, career criminal. In a few minutes, we hope that the gamers inside the Beehive will be able to blind the pirates, keep them from seeing what is happening outside the dome long enough for us to get there, get in, and take them out. There may be explosives planted in the dome, so our rescue team has to wear pressure suits in case of… accidents. The use of lethal force is authorized.”
He paused, scanning their faces in challenge. If there was anyone who might object to killing, this was the time to speak. No one did. “Any questions?”
“Yes,” asked Hazel, the short, round woman from Communications. “What are we facing in terms of weaponry, honey? And what exactly are our own resources?”
“Damned good question,” Piering replied. “We believe that the opposition is armed with makeshift weapons. These include air guns and possibly crossbows of advanced design.” He paused significantly. “Made here on Luna.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that somebody here helped?”
Concerned faces twisted into ugly masks. In an instant, the rescue party had transformed into a lynch mob. Piering raised his hand for silence. “We aren’t sure what we’re dealing with, and shouldn’t leap to any conclusions. The point is not who might have turned against us. The point is that we have good people in bad hands, and need to do something about that-now.”
He waved his thick hands above one of the workbenches, crowded with a hastily assembled array of weaponry. “Nail guns are lethal, but only at short range. No more than five meters. We’ve reworked a half dozen handheld welding lasers, but they aren’t lethal at more than a dozen meters-but can blind up to a hundred. The most promising possibility?” He raised a bulky pistol-like device. “Used by engineering. Piton device. If it can throw a steel arrowhead into rock at fifty meters, it can kill a man.”
He braced his meaty arms on the bench. “Here’s what I ask. Everyone here has fired a weapon. I’m not asking you to stand down if you haven’t fired a piton. But find the weapon that is closest to something you’ve already used. We have maybe an hour before we get the green light. Practice. And keep practicing. And then we’ll take it from there.”
“What’s the entry plan?” Hazel asked.
“Two teams,” Piering said. “One will enter at ground level, G. I’ll take a team up the side to level C. That’s where Asako Tabata’s body is. I think the pirates might be a little spooked by that, and give us a clear shot.”
Beneath the golden dome of Xavier’s gaming complex, the mood was just as serious.
“Are you ready?” Kendra asked.
“Almost,” Xavier said. He waved his little hands over a projection table, and a display of Heinlein base and its associated domes blossomed. “This image is ten hours old-just before the game began. It’s been shadow-adjusted to be identical with what the pirates would expect to see right now. Unless I’m very mistaken, they should suffice.”
“Good,” Kendra said. She peered down more closely. A hundred-meter perimeter around the dome had been established, but there were holographic gawkers just beyond that limit. Controlling Lunies was like herding cats.
“Kendra,” Xavier began, and then paused. “I assume I have permission to call you by your first name?”
“Knock yourself out.”
“Once we’ve regained control of communications-”
“I wouldn’t call it control. But we can get more than we have now.”
“Fine,” Xavier said. “Once we have more control, there are things we can do.”
“What kind of things?”
“Let’s just say that it isn’t a good idea to attack a mad scientist in his own workshop,” Xavier said.
“I like the sound of that.” Kendra said. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
The flame of Darla’s adrenaline had burnt down to a dim and dismal coal. Her stomach felt sore, her mouth tasted as if she’d drunk a cup of sour milk.
She had led the eight gamers to bubble 100-G. This was a small, partially furnished sphere strewn with
