Part 17 (1/2)
And came awake. Jerry stood over him, shaking him. ”Wake up, Ray. Corpsman, the paddles. His heart is going.”
”Yes, sir.”
”Don't you dare,” Ray gasped. ”They did enough.”
”I just wanted to wake you, Sleeping Beauty.”
”You did.” Ray coughed, s.h.i.+vered, and worked the muscles of his back and stomach, shaking off the shock, pain, anger. Better, Ray lay back down. ”Doc, you got a briefcase or something like it?”
”Yeah.”
”Bring it here.”
Jeff stepped into the Public Room, rifle slung over his shoulder, and came to a dead halt. Across from him, the old priest sat beside Annie and her dad. Father and daughter seemed somehow smaller. They slumped in their chairs, staring blindly ahead. ”Annie,” Jeff whispered softly. She just stared at the wall.
A few tables away, the marine Dumont was nursing a dead beer. ”They've had a rough day,” he said. ”The war's come home. I see you got a rifle. You heading out to the war?”
Jeff hastened to kneel beside Annie. ”Annie, what's wrong?”
”Men almost killed her and her da,” the priest explained. ”People coming out from the cities. Drunk...” the priest trailed off. ”Du saved them. Saved the town, probably. He deserves our thanks.”
Du winced at that and took another short sip from his beer. ”I did what I'm good at.”
Jeff swallowed hard. ”The Colonel told us they'd picked stuff like that up on the sky eyes.”
”We picked it up on the ground. Not quite as clean as from three thousand meters. Not nearly as pretty.” The marine growled and offered Jeff a seat at his table. Jeff didn't want to leave Annie. He wanted to hold her, to make the pain go away.
Her mother's glare told him how that would be taken. ”City slick,” she snorted, putting two new beers down at Dumont's table.
Jeff joined the marine, resting his rifle on the table in front of him. The marine took it expertly. In a moment he had verified the safety was on, the chamber empty. ”At least they taught you enough not to shoot yourself. How come the firepower?”
”We're taking a blimp north to do some sampling. Colonel thinks he's turned off what's making people crazy, but he wants to know if it's stronger up North. Things are bad there. They're burning people. I wanted a gun. Thought I'd keep it with me. If the crazies come here, I wanted to do something better than scream.”
Dumont frowned into his frothing beer. ”Yeah, it's better to do something more than scream.” He glanced up, looked hard at Jeff with eyes cold as flint. ”Don't forget. You'll be leaving them screaming.”
A corpsman arrived, white lab coat showing a bird and two chevrons of authority. He silently went to Annie and her dad, checked their eyes, took their pulses, did other things Jeff did not know how to interpret. The medic turned to the priest. ”They're in shock. Not unusual in cases like this. I can give them a shot that will help them sleep. That's the best thing for this.”
”This happens often enough out there that you know how to help them.” The priest waved at the ceiling, then at Annie.
”Too d.a.m.n much of it, Priest,” Dumont spat.
”All the time?” Jeff gulped.
”Some places have it a lot. Some places are as quiet as here was. Depends on the luck of where you're born.” Dumont took a long pull on his beer.
”Nikki! Where's Nikki?” Annie suddenly demanded as the corpsman gave her the shot. Annie looked around wildly, eyes impossibly wide. Jeff doubted she saw him.
”There, there, daughter” Her mom quickly settled down beside Annie, took her head in her arms. ”Nikki's all right. I just sent her out on an errand. She'll be right back.”
”Not likely,” Dumont said, now back to sipping his beer.
”Why not?” Jeff said.
”The kid ran out of here as soon as I told her mom what happened. Don't know where she went or when she'll be back.”
Jeff thought of going after Annie's little sister, then rethought it. If the word was out that city people had done this, were doing things like this, the dark streets and alleys of Hazel Dell were no place for Vicky Sterling's little brother. Jeff turned back to Dumont. ”You may be busy in a day or two.”
Dumont's brows went up but not a word came out.
”Colonel wants to raid my sister's archives. Let her know that she can't keep tightening the screws on people without them s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g her back. Be a chance to send a message to someone who started all this.” Jeff inclined his head toward Annie, her dad, the east with Richland and Refuge.
The marine put down his beer. ”That might be worthwhile. What do you think, Priest?”
”Be gentle, my son,” the priest began. Dumont's hand came up in the beginning of an obscene gesture. ”On yourself, boy. On yourself,” the priest finished.
Dumont's gesture died in midmotion. He ended up wiping his eyes. ”Don't know how to do that, padre. Got no idea at all.”
Nikki fell, not for the first time, got up, and ran on. She'd run forever, her screaming lungs insisted. She wanted to run some more, forevermore. Run until she couldn't remember the sight of her da, the look on her sister's face, standing there in the doorway. Just standing in the Public Room they knew like they knew each other-and not able to take a step, find a chair until Ma and Nikki led them to one.
Then the starman had told his story and Nikki had run. Run from those she loved. Run from what she could not understand. Run, looking for a way to make it right. There had to be something Nikki could do to help. Somehow she'd ended up at Daga's. They'd been friends since forever. If anything would help, talking to Daga would.
Daga wasn't home. Hadn't been home all day, her ma said. Nikki had ran away from that door, afraid Daga's ma might take her back to Ma. Nikki couldn't face Ma, or Da, or Annie. Running was better.
Without knowing it, she found herself at Jean Jock's house. Breathless, she rapped on the door. It was a long time being answered, and it was Jean Jock's ma who did.
”Is Daga here?” Nikki asked, breathless.
”No, you poor dear. She went out just after Sean came back from the Public Room with the story of what happened to your poor da and sis. She went with all of them, including the three quiet ones from the city. There was talk they would not be back.”
”Was Daga leading them?”
”Yes. She said she had something to show them.”
”Holy Mother of G.o.d,” Nikki breathed. ”Holy Mother of G.o.d.”
”May she and her Son help us all,” the woman said, turning it all into a prayer.
”I don't think either of them can,” Nikki whispered in apostasy. She turned away. Now she had to go home. Now she had to tell Ma what she'd done the day she skipped work. What would Ma and Da say? Would Da say anything? Ever again?
Victoria Sterling stared at the report. She was used to her people being incompetent. But this stupid? Even they must have worked at s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up this badly. She slammed her hand down on the buzzer and started counting. That imbecile of a security chief had better be here before she got to ten.
He must have been expecting her ring. He was standing in front of her desk in five counts.
”What do you mean, a mountain vanished? Mountains don't vanish.”
”Yes, ma'am.”
”Well.” She waited to see how something this preposterous had gotten into a report on her desk.
”We did not report that one had. Only that several sources were reporting that one had,” he clarified.