Part 5 (1/2)
”Uh, sir, that won't be necessary,” the lieutenant protested. ”We can get-well, we have horse-drawn transport for baggage.” He looked at Falkenberg as if he expected him to laugh.
”That's hardly unusual on colony worlds,” Falkenberg said. Horses and mules could be carried as frozen embryos, and they didn't require high-technology industries to pro- duce more, nor did they need an industrial base to fuel them.
”Ensign Mowrer will attend to it,” Lieutenant Banners said. He paused again and looked thoughtful as if uncertain how to tell Falkenberg something. Finally he shook his head. ”I think it would be wise if you issued your men their personal weapons, sir.
There shouldn't be any trouble on their way to barracks, but-anyway, ten armed men certainly won't have any problems.”
”I see. Perhaps I should go with my troops, Lieutenant. I hadn't known things were quite this bad on Hadley.” Falkenberg's voice was calm and even, but he watched the junior officers carefully.
”No, sir. They aren't, really. . . . But there's no point in taking chances.” He waved Ensign Mowrer to the landing craft and turned back to Falkenberg. A large black shape rose from the water outboard of the landing craft. It splashed and vanished. Banners seemed not to notice, but the Marines shouted excitedly. ”I'm sure the ensign and your officers can handle the disembarkation, and the President would like to see you immediately, sir.”
”No doubt. All right, Banners, lead on. I'll bring Sergeant Major Calvin with me.”
He followed Banners down the pier.
There's no point to this farce, Falkenberg thought. Anyone seeing ten armed men conducted by a Presidential ensign will know they're mercenary troops, civilian clothes or not. Another case of wrong information.
Falkenberg had been told to keep the status of himself and his men a secret, but it wasn't going to work. He wondered if this would make it more difficult to keep his own secrets.
Banners ushered them quickly through the bustling CoDominium Marine barracks, past bored guards who half-saluted the Presidential Guard uniform. The Marine fortress was a blur of activity, every open s.p.a.ce crammed with packs and weapons; the signs of a military force about to move on to another station.
As they were leaving the building, Falkenberg saw an elderly Naval officer. ”Excuse me a moment, Banners.” He turned to the CoDominium Navy captain. ”They sent someone for me. Thanks, Ed.”
”No problem. I'll report your arrival to the Admiral. He wants to keep track of you.
Unofficially, of course. Good luck, John. G.o.d knows you need some right now. It was a rotten deal.”
”It's the way it goes.”
”Yeah, but the Fleet used to take better care of its own than that. I'm beginning to wonder if anyone is safe. d.a.m.n Senator-”
”Forget it,” Falkenberg interrupted. He glanced back to be sure Lieutenant Banners was out of earshot. ”Pay my respects to the rest of your officers. You run a good s.h.i.+p.”
The captain smiled thinly. ”Thanks. From you that's quite a compliment.” He held out his hand and gripped John's firmly. ”Look, we pull out in a couple of days, no more than that. If you need a ride on somewhere I can arrange it. The G.o.ddam Senate won't have to know. We can fix you a hitch to anywhere in CD territory.”
”Thanks, but I guess I'll stay.”
”Could be rough here,” the captain said.
”And it won't be everywhere else in the CoDominium?” Falkenberg asked. ”Thanks again, Ed.” He gave a half-salute and checked himself.
Banners and Calvin were waiting for him, and Falkenberg turned away. Calvin lifted three personal effects bags as if they were empty and pushed the door open in a smooth motion. The CD captain watched until they had left the building, but Falkenberg did not look back.
”d.a.m.n them,” the captain muttered. ”d.a.m.n the lot of them.”
”The car's here.” Banners opened the rear door of a battered ground effects vehicle of no discoverable make. It had been cannibalized from a dozen other machines, and some parts were obviously cut-and-try jobs done by an uncertain machinist. Banners climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. It coughed twice, then ran smoothly, and they drove away in a cloud of black smoke.
They drove past another dock where a landing craft with wings as large as the entire Marine landing boat was unloading an endless stream of civilian pa.s.sengers. Children screamed, and long lines of men and women stared about uncertainly until they were ungently hustled along by guards in uniforms matching Banners'. The sour smell of unwashed humanity mingled with the crisp clean salt air from the ocean beyond.
Banners rolled up the windows with an expression of distaste.
”Always like that,” Calvin commented to no one in particular. ”Water discipline in them CoDominium prison s.h.i.+ps bein' what it is, takes weeks dirtside to get clean again.”
”Have you ever been in one of those s.h.i.+ps?” Banners asked.
”No, sir,” Calvin replied. ”Been in Marine a.s.sault boats just about as bad, I reckon.
But I can't say I fancy being stuffed into no cubicle with ten, fifteen thousand civilians for six months.”
”We may all see the inside of one of those,” Falkenberg said. ”And be glad of the chance. Tell me about the situation here, Banners.”
”I don't even know where to start, sir,” the lieutenant answered. ”I-do you know about Hadley?”.
”a.s.sume I don't,” Falkenberg said. May as well see what kind of estimate of the situation the President's officers can make, he thought. He could feel the Fleet Intelli- gence report bulging in an inner pocket of his tunic, but those reports always left out important details; and the att.i.tudes of the Presidential Guard could be important to his plans.
”Yes, sir. Well, to begin with, we're a long way from the nearest s.h.i.+pping lanes-but I guess you knew that. The only real reason we had any merchant trade was the mines.
Thorium, richest veins known anywhere for a while, until they started to run out.
”For the first few years that's all we had. The mines are up in the hills, about eighty miles over that way.” He pointed to a thin blue line just visible at the horizon.
”Must be pretty high mountains,” Falkenberg said. ”What's the diameter of Hadley?
About eighty percent of Earth? Something like that. The horizon ought to be pretty close.”
”Yes, sir. They are high mountains. Hadley is small, but we've got bigger and better everything here.” There was pride in the young officer's voice.
”Them bags seem pretty heavy for a planet this small,” Calvin said.
”Hadley's very dense,” Banners answered. ”Gravity nearly ninety percent standard.
Anyway, the mines are over there, and they have their own s.p.a.ceport at a lake nearby.
Refuge-that's this city-was founded by the American Express Company. They brought in the first colonists, quite a lot of them.”
”Volunteers?” Falkenberg asked.
”Yes. All volunteers. The usual misfits. I suppose my father was typical enough, an engineer who couldn't keep up with the rat race and was tired of Bureau of Technology restrictions on what he could learn. They were the first wave, and they took the best land. They founded the city and got an economy going. American Express was paid back all advances within twenty years.” Banners' pride was evident, and Falkenberg knew it had been a difficult job.
”That was, what, fifty years ago?” Falkenberg asked.
”Yes.”
They were driving through crowded streets lined with wooden houses and a few stone buildings. There were rooming houses, bars, sailors' brothels, all the usual estab- lishments of a dock street, but there were no other cars on the road. Instead the traffic was all horses and oxen pulling carts, bicycles, and pedestrians.
The sky above Refuge was clear. There was no trace of smog or industrial wastes.
Out in the harbor tugboats moved with the silent efficiency of electric power, and there were also wind-driven sailing s.h.i.+ps, lobster boats powered by oars, even a topsail schooner lovely against clean blue water. She threw up white spume as she raced out to sea. A three-masted, full-rigged s.h.i.+p was drawn up to a wharf where men loaded her by hand with huge bales of what might have been cotton.