When Diplomacy Fails…

CHAPTER 20

Alex was quite sure his logical appeals to Highland would be a waste of time, but he was required to make an attempt. He looked at Cady.

“Highland is probably going to resist the idea. I’ll need backup from you later. For now, I need you to let us go.”

Cady said, “It would be better if you didn’t tell me this and just did it. But I understand. I’ll delay my people as long as possible. I’ll prep for interception later. Are we telling Corporate?”

“Eventually, by coded message. The one I sent today just tells them I’m about to go to earth. Meyer trusts me.”

Cady said, “He trusts you, while he swallows handfuls of stress relievers.”

“Yeah, well he has that luxury.”

“I’ll be ready. Good luck, Alex.” She smiled and offered a hand.

“Thanks,” he said, and shook.

Cady turned and left. He waited three minutes, then walked to Highland’s section. Aramis went with him, with a nod.

Leitelt and Branson were on duty, checked his name as a formality, and waved him in. He knew them by sight only. Cady had twenty-eight people now, in three teams.

JessieM received him first.

“Chief Marlow, how are you today?”

“Very good, Jessie, thank you. Is Ms. Highland busy?”

Jessie nodded her head toward the inner office. “She’s conducting a recorded interview. It should be done in a few minutes.”

“I have a security issue to discuss. We can wait.”

“I’ll ping her screen,” Jessie said, and swiped across her own interface.

Two minutes later, Elke, Jason and Shaman came in, looking relaxed and casual in sport shirts for local daywear. It was disarming camouflage for what they were about to do.

JessieM looked at them a bit quizzically, but monitored her screen and after a couple of minutes said, “You can go in now.”

“Thank you.”

He took one deep breath, knocked as a courtesy and pushed the door in.

“Good morning, ma’am. Thank you for seeing me again.”

“What can I do for you, Chief Marlow? I’m afraid I only have about ten minutes before my next call.”

“That’s plenty, ma’am,” he said. He stayed standing as he said, “The first item is that we know why the threats are escalating. They make you popular. The original intents seem to have been to embarrass you out of the race. Then they attempted to make you afraid. Then to make you look incompetent. At each level, though, your visibility and popularity increase. You’re the underdog. So now they’re concertedly trying to kill you.”

“That’s what you’re for, isn’t it?” She looked dismissive and almost gratified.

“It is. That is exactly what we are for. Which is the point of the second item.” He watched. She didn’t notice Aramis sidling back along the wall.

“What’s that?”

“We need to vacate this area now.” His voice was calm, but had that professional urgency to it.

“We seem to be perfectly safe and comfortable here,” she said, holding up her open arms. She seemed reasonable, but he expected that would change as soon as he took the next step.

“We may seem to be, but given the progression of attacks, I must consider more explosives to be a credible and expected threat.”

“Then deal with it. That’s what you’re paid for.”

“Yes, ma’am, we are, and my recommendation is to leave.”

She shook her head and turned to her screens, dismissing him with a flutter of fingers.

He tried again while motioning discreetly for the others. “Ma’am, whoever is trying to assassinate you are professionals.”

“That’s ridiculous, it’s some group of backward peasants.”

“No, they want it to look that way. Right now, we need to move, and we have to accept collateral damage.”

She looked up again. “I can’t have that with my poll numbers! It will end my campaign!”

“Ma’am, either you walk or Aramis stuns and carries you.”

She turned to see Aramis holding the baton centimeters from her.

“This is felony kidnapping!”

“Yes it is. Aramis.”

Aramis zapped her, she twitched, her eyes rolled back and fluttered, and she slumped into his grasp.

“That’s a nice perk,” he said, as he heaved her into a fire carry. Shaman reached over and sedated her. They both looked at JessieM, standing in the doorway, who shrugged.

“I will come along without being stunned,” she said, sounding very nervous and fragile.

Jason said, “Jessie, you’re probably safe if you stay here. You’re not Ms. Highland. On the other hand, they might decide to make you a sacrifice.”

“I’d like to come along,” she said. “I expect it to be scary, but my place is with Ms Highland.” She trembled as she spoke, but her voice was firm.

Alex still didn’t know why anyone was loyal to this bitch, but he respected her for it anyway.

He nodded, then said, “Jason, Elke, get us to the ARPAC. I much prefer any real allies be left alive.”

Jason kicked the door, Elke went through grabbing for something off her harness, and they all followed.

Jason ran as Elke did something. It was loud and pyrotechnic, but probably not actually lethal. He wasn’t sure if she enjoyed the hell out of that or hated it for not being potent enough. Still, they were unmolested to the vehicle. There had been some sentries and personnel around, but whatever Elke did had them all behind cover. He jumped into the driver’s hatch and hesitated.

It was good transport, and obvious transport, and that made him scared.

Elke apparently had read his mind.

“I did a multifrequency burn for detonators or links, no hits. I’m checking latches and seals now. Stand by.”

Oh, good.

“Safe to start,” she said, as Alex said, “We’re in, Elke on ramp, ramp up, roll.” There were thumping noises of gear. A glance back showed rucks and a crate, which probably had the jump harness.

He hit the igniter and nothing happened. That is, nothing bad happened. It fired as it should.

He heard and felt movement, and Elke’s hand thrust something past him.

“They won’t be needing this.” It was small and flat and looked like some kind of wire harness fastener.

“Explosive?”

“No, tracker. When we get a moment, I’ll stick it on some other vehicle.”

“Understood. Alex, how’s the fighting?”

“I have only intermittent access, since we don’t want to be tracked. What I saw on the way out was clear in this area, but we should avoid the northeast and south.”

“West it is, then. There’s a lot of clutter that way, though, if I recall the map.” He looked up at the tracking screen.

“There is,” Elke said as she disconnected the unit. That was another hindrance. While it provided fantastic data, and was theoretically proof against enemy cracking, their putative friends could easily get into it-that’s what it was meant for. They’d travel seat of the pants.

Well, it wasn’t the first time. It felt good to be all together, well-armed and with decent protection for once.

“Status,” he asked.

Alex said, “Aramis on top gun, I’ve got the rear, Shaman has witch, Bart monitoring engines, Elke on support.”

“Direction?”

“North for now.”

“Excellent. Rolling.”

It was good to be running a proper military vehicle. The best armored limos were not close to this. That it had largely been for Highland’s image didn’t matter. It was serendipitous functionality.

He also wasn’t concerned about cosmetic wear and tear on the vehicle, nor collateral damage. That let him drive much more aggressively.

Damn, it felt good.

He exploded through the gate-warning barricades, plowed through the movable blocks, which were just sand-filled drums, and slalomed around the sunken bollards.

“Aramis, I may need obstacle removal,” he shouted back.

Aramis replied clearly, “Can you connect? If not, say the word.”

“Elke, do we have internal commo?”

“We will in a moment. I’ll plug you in.”

He rolled over the curb and didn’t notice until afterward, then cleared the bump the stupid limo had hung up on. This was how to travel.

Then Elke shoved ear muffs at him, bulky, but hard wired directly into the vehicle’s system. He yanked them over his head. “Test.”

Aramis replied, “I hear you.”

Alex said, “I’ll direct if needed.” He was at the commander’s console, with screens slaved to Jason’s.

“Understood. We’re in traffic. I’ll try not to kill anyone.”

Alex said, “That would be best. We’ll be hard to hide as is.”

“Do you want to debark for alternate transportation?”

Alex said, “Not yet. Right now, the armor and speed are useful. I’m hearing chatter about pursuit. They’re trying to figure out whose vehicle it is. They’ve just now figured out it’s ours. My phone is ringing. I may as well decoy before I disable it.”

“Agreed.”

Intercom went dead as Alex played stupid and innocent. Seconds of delay there could provide minutes of leeway here. He was back in less than ten seconds, though.

“They didn’t buy it. I don’t think they can scramble aircraft fast enough, but they can get one up for recon soon enough, or even satellite will help once they locate us. They will pursue on ground at once.

“And shit,” Jason said, looking forward. “Homebound convoy about to pass us.”

“I see them. They’re wondering where we’re going in a hurry.”

Aramis said, “I’m smiling and waving. We’re all friends and there’s no threat.”

“They seem to be buying it. We’re rolling.”

They passed out of view, and Alex said, “Thank god for bureaucracy. They still haven’t figured out who’s where, and of course, they dare not shoot at us with Ms. Highland aboard.”

“Do they know that?”

“Yes, I made sure to tell them it was an urgent need on her part.”

Jason smashed into a vehicle that strayed across the road.

“Very urgent. I just crushed a Mercedes.”

“Casualties?”

“I don’t think so, just the nose and part of the side. Occupants should be fine.”

“Cady has a location picked out. She’s stashing a car for us. We’ll debark nearby, hoof it, load up, relocate.”

“Understood. Though I’d much rather fight from this platform.”

Aramis said, “We’ll steal another.”

“Or more.”

Elke had managed to plug herself in, and said, “I can offer distractions if need be.”

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance soon.”

“That will be good for our relationship,” she said brightly.

He took another turn and found the way blocked. There was heavy construction here.

“I can’t turn, going through,” he said, as he swerved around a small crane. It looked as if they were doing sub-road drainage repair.

He hit the trench at speed and bounced over, causing slumps and collapses along that width. The excavated fill slowed them slightly, and he felt the vehicle rise, then flatten the pipe section awaiting installation.

Beyond that was a man with a multiwindow camera setup, leaning against his car and shooting video of the scene. The ARPAC was unmarked, so it wouldn’t immediately tag to Ms. Highland, which was a good thing, because he slammed into the man, smashed him into a broken bag of cold cuts against the car, which he crushed under the wheels in a popping, rolling, bumping, grinding crunch. Well, if you stood in traffic, you were liable to get hurt. Jason told himself he didn’t care, but didn’t believe it. Stupid or not, the man had been a human being, and not actively hostile.

His introspection stopped when Bart quipped, “I believe it’s crush hour.”

He stifled a response, and instead asked, “Where to?”

Aramis shouted, “Take any left, three squares lateral, then north again.”

“Left three, resume north, roger.”

It was easy to tell who was who in traffic. Extreme Muslims didn’t dodge. Insh Allah-as God wills. Sufis swerved, then cursed and threatened. There weren’t many Baha’i or Christians in this neighborhood, but they cleared the way and pulled back afterward, shrugging it off without public commentary. Local police dodged faster than anyone, and might even go onto the sidewalk. Mercenaries went over any obstacle or threat, and if it came down to it, might back up for a second try.

Highland was not only well-tranked, she was weeping. He assumed it was for her career, not from any real compassion. Still, alive she might pull it off. Dead she’d be only a footnote.

Alex said, “You have alarmed the locals. There are gathering groups and I predict armed response.”

“Yeah, that was not my intent.” He thought for a moment and added, “But I guess it was inevitable. Do we FIDO, unass or split up to do more damage?”

Alex said, “Right now, FIDO. Follow Aramis’ directions.”

“Fuck It, Drive On,” he muttered loudly. They might get that fight Aramis suggested, right now.

He reported, “The road is getting clogged. They’re less willing and able to clear a hole.”

Highland was functional enough to bawl, “How many poor people do you plan to kill?”

At least one more, he thought. JessieM’s transmissions were completely squelched, he hoped. Otherwise there’d be military force en route to them as well.

“Aramis, advise me.”

“Keep going north. How far out do we want to abandon ship?”

“How hot is it?”

Elke said, “Very. Milnet full of talk. Local police being brought in.”

Alex said, “They probably won’t shoot us with Ms. Highland in the vehicle, but mistakes happen. We need to unass soon.”

Aramis said, “Ms. Jessie, are you agreeable to churping some misdirection? Which can also leak out the intel we need known?”

“I can. You’ll… have to tell me what to say.” She flushed and blushed at that.

Alex said, “Damn, what do we say?”

Aramis said, “I have an idea. Jessie, churp that we’re heading west to seek shelter with the Right Baptists.”

“Okay. Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“Jason, where’s your safehouse? We’ll divert there.”

“It’s a safe room. Northwest.”

“‘Safe room’?” Highland asked. “As in an emergency retreat?”

“Not very secure, but no one should know it exists and we can keep jamming against scans. We can gear up there. I have some extra funds stashed.”

Jessie asked, “What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see. In the meantime, we’re heading through an area controlled by the Pure Shia. They’re looking at our lone vehicle rather angrily.”

Alex said, “I think it’s more hungrily. They have quite a few veterans who know how to operate one.”

“Good point. In either case, there’s no way around and I expect some trouble.”

“How’s the traffic?”

“Starting to get very tight. I can plow or crush light scooters. Actual cars will stop me.”

“Detour as needed, keep moving. We’ll need to swap out and abandon this. Elke, we don’t want them to get hold of it.”

“Fireworks it is,” she said, clearly cheerful.

Jason said, “It’s going to be soon. I’m on a secondary now, if I have to turn again we’re going to be hosed.”

“Roads aren’t wide enough?”

“No, they seem not to have taken advantage of the modern grid layout other than the main thoroughfares. They balkanized their neighborhoods on arrival and made a mess.”

Alex called, “Everyone ready for transfer?”

There were nods and rattles.

“Ms. Highland, Jessie, we are about to abandon this vehicle and commandeer another. It will be noisy. It may be a bit rough. Grab onto Elke’s pack, and Jessie, you onto Aramis’s. Keep hold as much as possible. There could be some bruising. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“What do you have, Jason?”

He took in the surroundings and reported. “I think we have a half a block. I see several good Mercedes we can use. I have a coder that should work on most of them. They’re common enough to get us farther out before another swap.”

“Sounds good. Do it.”

“They’re in front of a hotel. Elke, you’ll need to distract people.”

Elke stood swaying and took broad steps to the rear. “I have smoke, squibs and mild irritant.” It was about time she got to do her job. She gestured to Highland, who nodded a bit vacantly but did grab Elke’s harness.

He braked hard and she clutched a rail to avoid sliding forward.

“In five, four, three, two, one. Drop the ramp.”

Aramis hit the ramp release; it clanged to the ground. Shaman went first. Elke followed, skipping down the angle with Highland hanging on through a near stumble. Once in sunlight, she took station still half on the ramp, her body and the side armor protecting the principal.

Bart was right behind her, and went past at a brisk walk.

Shaman knew his stuff. He casually opened the car’s gullwing door, reached in before the driver could respond coherently, and dragged the man out by his collar. Bart slid into the driver’s seat and dropped the door. Elke shoved Highland loose, next to the passenger door.

The driver’s expression went from confused to irritated to angry, and he started jabbering in Arabic or Turkish or something, as Shaman zapped him with a stun baton. It was all still relatively quiet, but some bystanders had passed the surprise stage and were in the alarm stage. That was her cue. She thumbed a code, slid a package tab into it, then tossed it on the sidewalk. It whuffed into a cloud of smoke that obscured them from anyone on that side. She followed with a second thrown behind the car and in the middle of traffic.

Aramis came through with Jessie clinging to his back, bent over and making meep ing noises. Aramis dove in the back easily, Shaman helped shove Jessie in. Jason made a quick check, assumed the package in the ARPAC was Elke’s parting gift, and rolled in himself.

Alex grunted, “Elke, go.”

“Moving,” she announced for Highland’s benefit. At least the woman was trained well at this aspect. She moved well enough.

The crowd was starting to panic and point, though. Elke tossed squibs in two directions as Shaman steered Highland into the rear. She waited a moment for the squibs to start cracking in loud, echoey reports, and slid in, using her arse to shove Highland further back.

Alex came last. He rolled rather nimbly for a man of his age, over the quarter panel, and slid into the shotgun seat. He hadn’t finished closing the door before Bart had them in traffic with the throttle nailed.

“Your coder works,” he said to Jason.

“I thought the engine was already running.”

“The driver had a disconnect. He pressed it and looked smug. Then he looked concerned. Then he ceased looking anything when Shaman dropped him.”

Alex said, “Well done. Get us lost first.”

“Moving,” Bart agreed and took a turn.

Elke scrolled through her feeds, didn’t see something, and said, “Alex, we have a problem.”

“Talk to me.”

“Jessie’s update is not showing on the churp feed. I am seeing other feeds that look like her style. Did you say something about a trip to the Eastern Forest Reserve?”

Jessie looked confused. “No?”

Alex shouted, “The receivers. Jessie, give your phone to Elke right now!”

Jessie stuttered and said, “Uh, okay. Hacked?” She handed her phone over reluctantly.

Elke flipped it, popped the back, pulled the power cell, pulled the card and fumbled for a case. She had one in a thigh pocket she used to isolate circuits, but she was squashed next to the door and Jessie. It took considerable wiggling and arching, but she got it and placed the card inside.

“Yes, hacked,” she said. “None of this is going on local or system feed. Someone has control of the service, which is run by the Lezt family. They are either corrupted or conspirators. And oh, yes.” She clicked her detonator. There should be two warning pops to reduce casualties, a shame that, and then…

BANG, flash, thump.

She did love overpressure.

Highland seemed to come around to something at the mention of Lezt. She didn’t notice the explosion.

“It would take someone in UN Security Agency or Intelligence to order the nodes locked, even that minimal amount. It must be Lezt doing it for some third party.”

Jason said, “And that third party is UNSA or UNBI, working under orders from someone in your party.”

She shook her head. “I’m not convinced of that at all. You’re being dangerously paranoid.”

Alex said, “That’s my job. I’m paranoid so you don’t have to be. Regardless of who it is, they’ve set it up so they can get signals and you can’t communicate. We have spare phones, but we can’t waste them for Miss Jessie to churp notes. If they accomplish nothing else, they’ve cut your communications, and are masquerading as you.”

“I agree with that. How do we stop them and get control back?”

Jason said, “That depends on how they approach it. This just became an intel fight.”

Aramis said, “As I see it, and I’ve done publicity, they can play this at least three ways.” He ticked off on his fingers. “They can simply post reports, and compile B roll video, to show you having meaningless PR meetings with small groups. The locations will be vague, so you can’t be positively pinned down. That gets you out of the campaign eye. Or, they could have you say some odd, malicious or incriminating things to wreck your campaign. At the far end, they’ll try to locate and kill you.”

Alex said, “It depends on if they think slowing you will do the job, sabotaging you, or if they need you as a martyr.”

“We don’t martyr people in the Egalitarian Party,” she snapped.

Elke said, “Except for trigger happy mercenary bodyguards, and potentially silly but useful hangers on.”

Color drained from Highland’s face, then flushed back. That had hit her hard.

Elke did enjoy being able to love her work.

Bart said, “Cruk’s ratings are low and sinking. He needs a substantial boost, and less competition. The Party specifically said they were ‘looking at all options for candidates,’ when I saw the German feed. They are not confident of his popularity even in your own party.”

Highland snorted. “It’s not that I think he wouldn’t do it. He’d readily do it. He’s just too fucking stupid. He’s a pretty face and a soothing voice, and never ran even a Third World constituency. He wins elections by handing out largesse and manipulating people.”

“This would manipulate you, yes?”

“He couldn’t do it, though.”

“So who got him in?”

She was silent. Bart drove, maneuvering constantly.

Eventually she spoke. “I have to trust you with my life. That’s much easier than trusting you with party dirt.”

“Ma’am, unless you want to be a martyr, I’d suggest you relay us information. Have you heard anything ugly about our previous principals, from us?”

“No. But it’s not that simple.” She sighed. “I suppose I must. You’re seen as a threat.”

She left it hanging as if it were a revelation.

Elke said, “We deduced that before we left Earth.”

Jason said, “We’ll continue this inside. We’re here. Alex, how do you want to do it?”

Alex never hesitated. Elke appreciated that.

“Jason, you’ll lead Elke in with Ms. Highland. Bart will get out with Aramis. Shaman will take over driving. Around the block, I’ll get out with Jessie. Shaman ditches it and comes last.”

Bart pulled over and they started debarking, onto a sidewalk lightly traveled by only a few matrons with wheeled baskets if poor, or humming floaters if a little less so.

After two stops, Horace slid over to drive. JessieM was still stunned silent, and debarked with Alex. That left him alone to park a stolen vehicle, and of course, that’s when he drove past a parked police vehicle.

He made no funny moves, just drove as a limo driver would. In the rear screen, he saw them frown slightly. The vehicle was out of place in this area. It wasn’t out of place enough for them to risk the wrath of whichever mucky-muck was aboard. He took a side street, then another, keeping direction and distance in mind. It was quiet and dusky, so he pulled over, raised his scarf to a hood, checked his pistol, parked and stepped out.

All his gear was already inside, or should be. He shouldered a small cross-pack that held emergency sundries, and kept a clear path between hand and pistol. No one molested him; indeed, he saw almost no one until he reached the thoroughfare, where he seemed to blend in well enough. Three minutes of steady but unhurried walking got him to the saferoom.

Horace hadn’t expected any particular apartment. Location and discretion were primary, then cost always played a role. Too pricey would raise inquiries. Too cheap affected reliability of the landlord and neighbors. He was surprised when he walked in the door.

Furnished, it would be a very nice place. Seven plastic chairs and seven basic cots filled a nicely laid out common room. This was probably considered a studio, but it was a large studio. The bathroom was back there, with a frosted one-way pane. The kitchenette was modern, and quite a few cans, instant packages and beverages sat waiting.

“New phone,” Jason said, and underhanded one. Horace caught it.

Elke stood in the middle observing. She said to Jason, “You already set the bathroom window with a line and a breaking charge.”

“Yes.”

“Not a bad job. Should I tune it?”

“I assume you can do better, so yes.”

Elke seemed happy and relaxed with explosive in hand. For most people, that would be insane. For her, it was comfortably normal. Good.

Alex said, “I hadn’t planned on Jessie, so we’re short a cot. However, we’ll need someone on watch.”

“I am on now,” Bart said. He had a tub of soup open, steaming, and sipped it like a drink.

“We won’t be here long,” Alex said. “We’ll be planning an offensive and moving. Ms. Highland, Jessie, while this location is probably safe, nothing is guaranteed. Remain dressed. Keep all property immediately at hand. We may move on a moment’s notice. Do not make any communications. That is an order.”

Horace examined Highland as she flared her eyebrows and said nothing. She at least understood the practicalities of the situation. Jessie just nodded.

Highland said, “I’ll try to rest then.”

“Good idea. I want half down, half up for now. Eat, rest, rearm. How’s our stock?”

Jason said, “We’ve hardly shot anything. I have spare ammo here so we can take full loadouts, but that’s mass.”

“Juggle it on a personal basis. Ammo first, then water, then food, then sundries.”

Jason said, “I’d like to see about finding a deeper hole, cruder and more remote. We can spend a little money and do things discreetly.”

“How fast can you get a vehicle?”

“Fast isn’t the problem. If I stick down a wad of cash and shiny metal, someone is going to know it’s questionable and word will get out. I have no way to justify financing. So I need to find a private party and make it worth their while, but we still don’t know we can trust them.”

Aramis asked, “Would they rat us out, knowing they might lose their payoff?”

“They might be that stupid, or they might just lie about how much it was.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“So I can get transport, but we must then move at once.”

“At the risk of sounding prejudiced, we want to stick to Christian groups.”

“Or the Turks, or one of the rare Baha’i.”

“Possibly.”

“I really hate trying to sound as if I give a damn about religion. It’s dishonest of me, and I feel worse because it matters to them.”

Highland said, “But you’re fine with shooting people.”

He faced her and said, “Mercenaries have morals, too.”

“I can do it,” Elke said. “I’m not particularly religious, but I can accept a blessing and offer friendliness in return.”

“You and Aramis. Go.” As they left, he dimmed the lights to ten percent.

Since they’d picked up JessieM much like a stray dog, Horace considered her one of his patients and charges. She looked very wrung out at the moment, and her breathing indicated a borderline panic reaction.

“Jessie, let me check you for injuries quickly.”

“Oh, if you need to,” she said, snapping alert and looking worried, growing a shade paler.

“It’s just a precaution,” he said. “Have a seat here.” He indicated the corner away from the plotting and scheming, and kept his voice low. Highland took no notice. Though to be fair, the stress was affecting her, too.

“You seem a little out of sorts, so I want to make sure it’s not trauma.” There were no marks on her.

“Oh, it’s stress,” she admitted readily. “I’ve been through a battle. I don’t know how you can do that more than once. There were bullets… explosions… things fell. I saw bodies blown apar.. she turned greenish and paused for a moment.

She sobbed and continued. “I hate this. Publicity and presence is my job, and I can’t do it here. Not only can’t I do it here, it’s deadly if I do. I never learned the details of politics. I just rented out to promote in clear, short phrases. I’ve been with Joy for ten years now. I don’t have any useful skills.”

Horace said, “If I may professionally and discreetly inquire, is there more to your relationship?”

Jessie looked quizzical for a moment and then said, “Oh. No. I wish there were. She’s so powerful and exciting.” Horace said nothing, shivered slightly, and considered that everyone had at least one unique taste. “I think she knows that, but she really is a very dedicated wife.”

It was hard to believe, but if even a close confidant thought so, and there were no rumors from reliable sources, it must be true. That aside, however, there was another point.

“That’s fine. But you are a close acquaintance. She can confide in you, and it will do her good to have close contact with someone.”

Jessie shook her head sadly. “I suggested that. She’s always been very much alone. Even at home, they sleep, actually sleep, in separate rooms. She’s almost pathological about her privacy.”

“We noticed. Well, I can talk. Have you considered a stuffed toy?”

She stared at nothing and shook her head. “No.”

“It does help. Quite a few of the soldiers here have them.”

She looked up and said, “I’ll try it. I don’t regard it as immature.”

It occurred to Horace that with the background she was getting here and now, the young woman might be a serious contender for politics herself in a couple of decades. It disturbed him to realize he’d be more likely to vote for her than any of the current thieves.

Of course, in two decades, this young lady might be a jaded political whore herself.

“Go rest,” he told her, and took a look around at the others. She nodded and went to a cot, curled up and closed her eyes. She actually did sleep as exhaustion overcame stress.

Horace didn’t sleep. He’d have to be more wrung out. He wished he could, though.

He saw Highland shifting, fidgeting, and eventually, she sat up.

“I can’t sleep,” she said.

“I understand, but you should keep trying if you can.”

“It’s not going to happen.” She swung off the cot and stood up.

“As you wish. I wouldn’t recommend a sedative anyway.”

“Due to the need to move?”

“Exactly that. When you are tired enough, you will sleep.”

“Or go insane,” she said with an honest smile.

“We deal with fatigue a lot.”

“Why do you do it?” she asked quietly.

“The fatigue?”

“No, the mercenary work.”

“We’re not precisely mercenaries. We don’t take just any money, and we do stick to missions that are legal and ethical.”

“Really? Are you saying that?”

“Exigencies can force us to be violent, but we engage very little, preferring to use evasion. We rarely act except in response.”

She looked quizzical, probably considering their actions over the past few weeks.

“But, in answer to your question, ma’am, it’s a challenge, it’s well-paid, and it’s rewarding to keep someone alive. Doubly so for me.”

She nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. But why not a regular detail with someone?”

He had to think about that. “This is more honest, really. We don’t have to like or pretend to like our principal, just do our job. That gives us more freedom than staff security have.”

“You don’t like me.”

“I didn’t say that, ma’am, only that we don’t have to.”

“You don’t need to say it. None of you like me.”

“There are numerous issues of personality and politics.”

“And I’m a whore for taking practicality, compromise and yes, money, over ideology.” She sighed. “When I first ran for local judge, I was so earnest and clean myself. I accomplished nothing, but I felt very good about myself.”

She sighed again. “As time went on, I accomplished more and felt worse. Constituents and now the public at large vote for me, so regardless of anyone’s thoughts about integrity, the Charter of Freedoms or equality, I represent what people want.”

“It bothers you, ma’am?”

“Oh, yes it does. Look, I personally have nothing against you, and yes, I think of the resource potential of anyone, any group, any business. I was not in BuState when you rescued Mr. Bishwanath. But it most certainly annoyed certain factions. Ironically, in the same Traditionalist party that your CEO favors. They’d planned on parting out the system as ‘recolonies,’ with ownership of resources passing to them.”

“Predictable enough,” Horace said.

“Then, most recently, you protected and made friends with Caron Prescot. Very close friends, I’m led to understand.”

Horace reflected it was a good thing Aramis was out shopping. The man would be flushing and stuttering at this point.

He offered, “So the ability to do our job well threatens certain elements, yes. However, if they’re in the opposition party, that doesn’t explain how your party ties in. It reinforces what some people say, that there’s no real difference.”

She looked up. “We have weird supporters. Jankin is worth a tenth what Prescot is worth. He’s more into politics, though. She has no need to be. No one can touch her, and she’s not petty, I have to say. He is. He purports to support the liberals because it’s advantageous. You also may have noticed that a lot of our supporters are… below average. That’s our appeal, to the common person. He milks that, and profits from it, and he gets a perverse glee out of it. But I can’t see him killing over it.”

“Is there some deal pending that you oppose him on?”

“Everyone winds up opposing and supporting him on many issues. He has fingers in everything.”

“That’s hardly what I’d call liberal.”

“Of course not. He wants what’s best for him. You don’t get to that position by caring about anyone except yourself. It’s a constant struggle for me-where’s the line between protecting myself so I can do the right thing, and being a petty elitist?”

Horace twitched his eyebrows slightly, but she didn’t see it.