The night before, Jolo, Katy, George and Marco had sat around trying to figure out a faster way to kill a tower. All sorts of ideas were tossed about: ramming them with the Argossy, burning, blasting, bombing, and all sorts of other, more exotic methods were discussed, one involving missiles launched from orbit. But that would’ve required a Fed Cruiser at least, and the only Fed ships the pirates had were stolen Gunboats, none of which had long-range missiles.
In the end they decided Jolo and Katy’s method using Duval tech was best. And the hope was that better technique with the magna-hooks and proper placement of zirka charges would save lives and increase productivity. Katy and Jolo would give demos. They figured that the number of tower busters would increase daily until every able-bodied dirt maggot on Duval was knocking them down. Marco and Katy were the only ones bolstered by their discussion. Jolo and George were skeptical.
The Argossy set down 50 kilometers outside of Arkos. Koba and Hurley waited with the comm open as Jolo and Katy sped off to the rendezvous point in the Scout. It was early morning and the sky was clear and still full of stars. They brought ten rifles, ten magna-hooks and as many zirka charges as the Scout could carry to hand out to would-be tower busters. Anyone with a small ship could juice up the hooks and if they knew where to place the charges, could take down a tower.
There were fifty or so people at the tower Jolo had picked for the demo. About half were pirates, a few of Mantis’s people (all carried some sort of energy weapon), some dirt farmers (rags for clothes), a few rock slingers (plenty of muscle), and a smattering of women and children (no shoes). They were all thin and gangly, the kids especially looked in need of a bath and a solid week of Fed ration packs. There were only small boats near the tower, as Jolo had instructed. But the moment they arrived Jolo ordered all but one boat to remain, an ancient single-seater Ravi8 with a rear coupler that Jolo figured the farmer used to pull water harvester tanks and earth movers. It was the smallest and least-capable boat which would require excellent charge placement and a good test to prove you could take down a tower with low-tech equipment.
Jolo jumped out of the Scout and everyone followed him. One of the skinny, barefoot kids came and held his hand. Jolo stood on a rock near the tower and stared down at this motley group of people. The pirate contingent stood tall, looking confident and well-fed, but the others, dirty and wide-eyed, hung on Jolo’s every word, his every movement. He started to launch into the demo, but stopped and looked over at Katy and she knew what he was thinking. “We got enough?” he said. And she nodded yes, and so they started handing out Seafood Deluxe #3 Mealpacks. Some of the older folks refused to eat it when they saw the Federation markings on the package, but once everyone started to dig in, they couldn’t refuse. “Thanks to our Federation brothers for this fine breakfast,” said Jolo. These people were no more than an afterthought to the Federation, thought Jolo. Most had escaped from BG work crews, or had somehow survived a year on a prison planet, got released, then were refused entry to a core planet, or were hiding from the Fed for some infraction large or small.
Jolo chose the farmer with the Ravi8 for the demo. He set up the hook and started to place the charges. One of the local rock busters, who used the charges every day, showed everyone a slightly better placement so the whole tower would lean over after the blast, much better than Jolo and Katy’s original position, which meant that even the Ravi8 would have plenty of power for the job. Jolo then gave the farmer one of the Fed rifles and showed him how to use it. When the tower fell everyone cheered. No one had been injured and they all stood around the burning base of the structure and watched as the drill slowed to a stop. More cheering ensued.
Then they all headed due east to the closest tower and did it all over. This time one of Mantis’s crew, a young girl Jolo guessed was no more than fifteen or so took down a tower all by herself. She had a small Federation surface recon boat that looked to be from the BG wars, but it brought the tower down with ease. By then it was nearly noon and everyone sat down in the shade of the fallen tower for more Fed meal packs. No one said a word about eating another Seafood #3. There were smiles all around.
Katy sat next to Jolo. “Do you feel it?” she said.
“The heat?” said Jolo, chewing on a mouthful of shrimplike protein in a synthetic tomato sauce, unwilling to give an inch.
“It’s called hope.”
He put his arm around her and watched the kids climbing on top of the dead tower, jumping into the sand, farmers talking to hardened space pirates, mothers holding Fed energy weapons. As the heat intensified, soon everyone was in the shade of the long, black alacyte structure, everyone smiling and full of confidence. But the excitement didn’t last very long.
Koba came through on Jolo’s portable comm. “Three inbound. Big boats. Probably cruisers.”
“How long?”
“30 or 40 seconds. Sorry. They popped in
