Part 20 (2/2)
Jeff and five others sent grenades arching out. They hit just ahead of the people who were down. Six booms reverberated over the howls and screams, then changed into some kind of popping racket. Now Jeff knew what was happening with his gla.s.ses. Rhythmically, they blanked, protecting him from blinding flashes that were disorienting the mob. Not that the people out there needed much help. More ran or were pushed into the blue stretch of yard to stumble, tumble, or pratfall all over each other. On hands and knees, people tried to get back out, only to fall on their faces. Over their groans, screams, shouts, and a few laughs, Vicky shrieked orders to get up, get moving. It only got worse for those who tried.
”We got leakers around the edges,” Mary noted, and Jeff peeled his eyes away from the centerpiece to note a couple dozen people on the mob's flanks edging around the blue slick, looking for a way through. ”Grenadiers, load blue, fire at my marks.”
Jeff quickly went through the drill and lobbed a slick grenade off to the right, completing a box between the first line and the edge of the main building. More people went down.
”Archives and gear are out of the building,” came over the net. ”We're headed back to the blimp, Captain.”
”Very good. Dumont, withdraw your squad.”
”Bas.e.m.e.nt detail, withdraw. Roof sharpshooters, withdraw.”
The light and noise show came to a slow end. The ma.s.s of people on the lawn continued to try to grope, crawl, and bellyswim out of the slippery stuff. Mary grinned beside Jeff. ”Came off easier than I'd expected. Let's go crew.”
Jeff led them down the stairs. On the first-floor landing, he could see the last of the gear being loaded aboard the blimp and the troops hustling quickly for it as well. Mary and Dumont joined him.
”Don't move” came in a familiar voice. From a small room off the main vestibule-a rest room-stepped Millard, impeccably dressed in black tails, an air pistol firmly in his hand. In the dim light coming through the window and the doorway, he aimed at Jeff's heart.
”Who's this gentleman?” Mary asked, coming to a very fast and complete halt.
”Millard, the downstairs butler,” Jeff answered. ”He can trim rosebushes with that pistol at fifty paces,” he quickly added the essential information.
”Good shot,” Mary nodded.
”He also teaches unarmed combat to the staff.”
”I'm liking him better by the second,” Dumont wisecracked. ”Any chance you'd like to join the corps? We're always looking for a few good men.”
Jeff rolled his eyes at the ceiling. ”He can't be bought.”
”I and mine have served the Sterlings for six generations. Now”-he waved the gun toward the door-”if you will, order Miss Sterling's property returned.”
”Where'd you come from?” Jeff asked, knowing it was a stupid question but needing time to adjust to what was happening way too fast for his brain to track.
”I was in the men's room when your vandals clomped through. You failed to check the rest room on this level.” Millard's tone was the one he reserved for the maid who missed a large dust ball, a servant with a spotted salad fork.
”I'll mention that in my postmission critique,” Mary answered dryly.
Jeff took a step forward. ”Millard, these people really need that stuff. We'll all be better off if they take it.”
”Young Jeffrey, you have again joined the losing side. Your sister will own these people before noon tomorrow.”
”Millard, the old ways aren't going to work this time,” Jeff said, edging another step forward.
”Do not a.s.sume I will not shoot you.” Millard lowered his aim-slightly. ”I can render your kneecaps worthless.”
Jeff took a step back; the pistol's aim rose again. Gla.s.s shattered. A single round smashed into Millard's temple, snapping his head sideways, scattering blood and bone. As the butler fell, his gun popped as fast as a clamped finger could shoot it. Pellets st.i.tched a line past Jeff's ear.
A moment later, Heave grinned through the window. ”Know you didn't want any dead civvies, Captain, but I figured you'd make an exception for that one. Sleepy bullets don't do windows.”
”Right.” Mary nudged Jeff, moving him away from the butler's sprawled body. To Jeff, Millard had been invincible. No one beat him in the exercise yard. No one bested him on the pistol range. It hadn't been a fair fight. Now he understood Dumont's offhanded remarks. ”Only fools fight fair when there's a gun out.” Swallowing hard, Jeff double-timed for the blimp.
He was learning what it meant to travel with these people. Hard lessons. He settled into his seat as the blimp lifted, riding the wind backward into a turn away from the lights of the big house. A few air rifles popped off; Jeff didn't even flinch.
They'd gotten what they came for, and Vicky had gotten a well-deserved lesson. Unless...Millard's words came back. How could Vicky own these people by noon tomorrow? ”Mary,” Jeff called, ”we better tell the Colonel what Millard said.”
”Already did.”
Ray followed the action on net. He didn't relax until Mary's team was back in the air. Vicky's new claim was a puzzle.
”Colonel, you want to listen in on Miss V's call to Ms. San Paulo?” Lek came on net to ask.
”Patch us in,” Ray said. ”Add Chief Barber.”
”Hen, do you know what those people just did to me? Do you know?” Vicky was screaming even as the visual came up.
”No, Vicky, but I'm sure you'll tell me.” The Chair of the Great Circle blinked drowsily. ”Vicky, it's one in the morning. I was finally getting to sleep a night through.”
Vicky was already in full flight. ”They robbed me. They stole my property. Made off with it in one of those blimps you're letting them have for free. Free, woman!”
”What is it you're missing? And are you sure it was them?”
”Who else could it be? Who would have the gall to break into Fairview and make off with my central workstations and every archives disk I own? I ask you, who?”
Hen raised an eyebrow. ”People have been pretty strange lately. A few might not be happy with you. Including a blimp crew or two with family in the towns your out-of-work employees rampaged through.”
”Bosh”-Vicky waved her hand as if to swat a fly-”no one would dare. No one has ever dared touch a Sterling's property. They not only stole the family archives but killed my chief butler, Millard. I tell you, no one on Santa Maria would harm him. No one could. It had to be the star people.”
”You'll need a bit more evidence than that in court.”
”Not in one of mine. They committed their crimes on my land. They face one of my judges. Speaking of which, have you checked the land those stupid starfolk rented for their base?”
”No.” San Paulo's brows were down now. The Sterling woman had her full attention.
”Those copper-grabbing dirt farmers and their free land platform. Hen, you really should put more tax collectors out in the hinterland. Not one plot in the Hazel Dell towns.h.i.+p was properly registered and paid for. Not before this afternoon. I bought them all. The star people's base is on my property, and they can get their fat a.s.ses off it.”
Henrietta took a deep breath at that one. ”Victoria, we've been around and around the circles on that one. The farmers refuse to pay for land that no one is using.”
”Yes,” Vicky cut in, ”but they want us to expand the ca.n.a.ls so they can get their goods to market cheap. That's not cheap.”
”Neither are the tariffs your towboat companies charge.”
”If they don't want to pay, they can always haul produce in their little wagons,” Vicky snapped.
”You'd really tell an entire town to get off land you bought out from under them?”
”And the starbase. Oh, they can stay if they'll pay my rent. What rent do you think I should charge for the land the biggest factory on this planet is squatting on? How much, Hen?”
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