Alarm at what she was saying made Moyo tighten his grip around her. “No. I don’t want you doing anything crazy like that. Besides, they wouldn’t listen. Not them. They’d smile politely for a while, then shove you into zero-tau. I couldn’t stand that, I’ve only just found you.”
She rested her head against him, quietly thankful for his devotion. He’d been there for her since the very first day. More than a lover, a constant source of strength.
“You can’t go,” Cochrane said. “Not you. These cats would like fall apart without you to guide them. We need you here, man. You’re our den mother.”
“But we won’t last long if we stay here, and the Princess sends her army to find us.”
“A little more time is better than the big zippo. And who knows what our karma’s got mapped out for us before the jackboots kick our door down.”
“You’re not normally the optimist,” Stephanie teased.
“Face it babe, I’m not normally alive. That kinda warps your outlook, dig? You gotta have faith these days, man. Some cool happening will come along to like blow our minds away.”
“Groovy,” Moyo deadpanned.
“All right, you win,” Stephanie assured them. “No noble sacrifices on my part. I’ll stay here.”
“Maybe they’ll never come,” Moyo said. “Maybe Ekelund will defeat them.”
“Not a chance,” Stephanie said. “She’s good, and she’s mean, which is everything it takes. But she’s not that good. Just stop and feel the weight of them building up out there. Ekelund will cause them a whole load of grief when the invasion starts, but she won’t stop them.”
“What will you do then, when they reach the farm? Will you fight?”
“I don’t think so. I might lash out, that’s human nature. But fight? No. What about you? You said you would, once.”
“That was back when I thought it might do some good. I suppose I’ve grown up since then.”
“But it’s still not fair,” she complained bitterly. “I adore this taste of life. I think going back to the beyond will be worse now. Next time, we’ll know that it doesn’t have to be permanent, even though it probably will be. It would have been far better if we’d been spared knowing. Why is the universe persecuting us like this?”
“It’s karma, man,” Cochrane said. “Bad karma.”
“I thought karma was paying for your actions. I never hurt anyone badly enough for this.”
“Original sin,” Moyo said. “Nasty concept.”
“You’re wrong,” she said. “Both of you. If I know anything now, it’s that our religions are lies. Horrid, dirty lies. I don’t believe in God, or destiny, not any more. There has to be a natural explanation for all this, a cosmological reason.” She sank into Moyo’s embrace, too tired even for anger. “But I’m not smart enough to work it out. I don’t think any of us are. We’re just going to have to wait until someone clever finds it for us. Damn, I hate that. Why can’t I be good at the big things?”
Moyo kissed her brow. “There are forty kids on the other side of the firebreak who are mighty glad you achieved what you did. I wouldn’t call that a small thing.”
Cochrane blew a smoke ring in the direction of the oppressive presence beyond the firebreak. “Anyhow, nobody’s served us an eviction order on these bodies yet. The evil Kingdom’s warlords have got to like catch us first. I’m going to make chasing after me tragically expensive to the taxpayers. That always pisses them off bigtime.”
We really should be doing this in a perceptual reality,sinon moaned. I mean: actual physical training. It’s barbaric. I’m amazed Ralph Hiltch hasn’t assigned us a crusty old drill sergeant to knock us into shape. We’ve got the right scenario.
That morning, the serjeants had been driven out to a training ground ten kilometres east of Fort Forward, a rugged stretch of land with clumps of trees and mock-up buildings. It was one of twenty-five new training zones, their basic facilities thrown up as quickly as Fort Forward itself. Royal Marine engineers were busy constructing another ten.
Choma half-ignored Sinon’s diatribe, concentrating on the bungalow in front of them. The rest of the squad were spread out round the dilapidated building in a semicircle, learning to cling to whatever cover was available. Stupid really, he thought, considering the possessed can sense us from hundreds of metres. But it added to the feeling of authenticity. The point which Sinon was missing.
Suddenly, one of the small bushes fifty metres away shimmered silver, and metamorphosed into a green- skinned hominoid with bug-eyes. Balls of white light shot away from his pointing hand. The two serjeants swivelled smoothly, lining their machine guns up on the apparition.
Ours,they told the rest of the squad. sinon squeezed the trigger down with his right index finger, while his left hand twisted the gun’s side grip, selecting the fire rate. The small chemical projectile cases reverberated loudly as they fired, smothering all other sounds. Ripples of static shivered over the end of the barrel as the pellets hammered into their target.
The static gun was the weapon which the Kingdom had developed to arm the serjeants for the Liberation. A simple enough derivative of an ordinary machine gun, the principal modification was to the bullet. Inert kinetic tips had been replaced by spherical pellets which carried a static charge. Their shape reduced their velocity from ordinary bullets (and their accuracy), though they could still inflict a lethal amount of damage on a human target, while their electrical discharge played havoc with the energistic ability of a possessed. Every pellet carried the same level of charge, but the variable rate of fire would allow the serjeants to cope with the different strengths of the individual possessed they encountered; and as the gun’s mechanism was mechanical, the possessed couldn’t glitch it—in theory.
It took three seconds of concentrated fire on the green monster before it stopped flinging white light back at Sinon and Choma. The image collapsed into an ordinary human male, who pitched forward. A holographic projector lens glinted in the bush behind it.
You were too slow to respond to the target’s strength,their supervisor told them, in a genuine combat situation his white fire would have disabled the pair of you. And, Sinon . . .
Yes?
Work on improving your aim, that entire first burst you fired was wide.
Acknowledged,sinon informed the supervisor curtly. he adopted singular engagement mode to talk to Choma. Wide shooting, indeed! I was simply bringing the gun round onto the target. Approaching fire can be a large psychological inhibitor.
Certainly can,choma replied with strict neutrality. he was scanning the land ahead, alert for new dangers. It would be just like the training ground controllers to hit them immediately again.
I think I am beginning to comprehend the gun’s parameters,sinon declared. My thought routines are assimilating its handling characteristics at an autonomic level.
Choma risked a mildly exasperated glance at his squad mate. That’s the whole point of this training. We can hardly accept a tutorial thought routine from a habitat, now can we? The Consensus didn’t even know about static guns when we left Saturn. Besides, I always said the best lessons are the ones you learn the hard way.
You and your atavistic Olympiad philosophy. No wonder it fell out of fashion by the time I was born.
