Part 25 (1/2)
Ned shook his head. ”They'll be getting calls from anyone who saw six people they don't know. I know the people I talk to. If they know something, they'll tell me. Maybe they'll call your colonel. Maybe they won't. Maybe their call will be answered. Maybe the starfolk will need a month to sift through all the calls they get. You want to be chasing calls for them, or you want to do it my way?”
Jeff said nothing and followed Ned up to their room.
Ray watched the map table light up with small yellow dots. Each was a call from someone to the base, telling of the six. Dots showed from way south of New Haven to surprisingly far north of the James River. Apparently everyone up there wasn't crazy or off net; somehow Ray doubted they'd seen the right six people.
”The computer's doing the initial a.s.sessment of each call,” Kat told him. ”If the light goes out, the call doesn't appear to have anything to do with our search. Red means it's got a fifty percent chance of contributing to our hunt. If it starts flas.h.i.+ng, it's a hot datum.”
”And if the map suddenly disappears,” Mary drawled, ”we know they used the d.a.m.n gizmo again.”
Ray studied the lights. A few turned red. There was no pattern to them; they were just as scattered as the yellows. Kat winced as even she concluded that her computer was just as stymied as they were. ”It's too early to tell,” she said. ”In the morning, we'll see a pattern.”
”I'm betting on Annie's ma,” Mary said. ”She's sure her kids went southeast, Jeff and his native guide sure did.”
”Have we located Jeff yet?” Ray asked.
”No, we're working our way outward. Looks like he and Old Ned are riding faster than we expected.”
”Faster than we modern techs think biological can move, you mean.” Ray allowed himself a smile. He'd done his best; still, his gut was knotted as if he'd spent the past hour in a firefight. He had been in a fight, a fight for the trust of six million people. Only time would tell if he'd won.
Daga was mounted; Sean and Jock were to either side. The woman thanked the couple. ”We'll ride for the mountains west of here, find a place to hole up and wait for things to cool down. I'll send a man back in a week or two to find out how things are.”
”We'll follow the news for you.”
They rode out of the farmyard. Once out of sight of the house, they turned east, toward Richland, not west. The woman urged her horse to a trot, and the rest followed.
Jeff and Ned were in the saddle at first light. The morning brought clear skies and air washed clean by the rains. The ride would have been pleasant if he and Ned weren't driving themselves so hard. The second village they paused at that morning brought more information than usual. Yes, a wagon driven by an old man had rolled through there yesterday. The son of the woman providing the information had seen the wagon stop at the big house just past town. The woman shook her head and spat.
”A young man just bought it. Doesn't plant much. Don't know where his copper comes from. Doesn't have much to say.”
Ned was circ.u.mspect in his approach to the stone house, but it quickly became clear the place was empty. Not quite. In the barn, an old man slept beside a mud-spattered wagon. The hay he snored in and the stalls his old plug wandered alone had been full of other men, other horses the night before. The wagon held Jeff's attention. The wood was rough; a bit of wool yarn stuck there. A few strands of hair were higher up. Jeff retrieved them, held them against the sky. ”Annie's skirt. Her hair. I swear.”
”I think so, too.”
”What direction did they take?” Jeff asked, looking around for tracks, knowing held miss what was in plain sight for Ned.
”Southeast, like always, but cross-country this time.”
”They heard the Colonel. They know they have to find them fast before someone else does.”
”Then we ride fast, too.” The trail was clear enough that even Jeff could follow it once Ned pointed it out. They cut across the fields, through a wood, and were trotting around a hill when Jeff spotted a man walking toward them. A wide-brim hat hid his face. His clothes were black as night. Boots. One hand swung free. The other rested on a strap that had to support an airgun. He kept walking their way.
”Do we turn off?” Jeff asked.
”Could lose the trail.” Ned kept riding.
The man kept his head down, face in shadow, but Jeff knew he was watching them as they got closer. The woods might hold more riflemen, but Jeff spotted none. At fifty yards, Jeff reached for his rifle, changed the magazine selector to sleepy bullets, and left his hand resting on the rifle b.u.t.t.
They were fifty feet away and closing at a fast trot when the man looked up. ”You really ought to return the Colonel's calls, Jeff. The old man don't like being stiffed.”
Jeff almost fell out of his saddle. ”Dumont, what are you doing here?”
”Chasing you, who's chasing the girl, who's chasing the vanis.h.i.+ng box. You must be Ned,” the marine said, offering a hand. Ned shook it. ”You hear the Colonel last night?”
”Could hardly miss him,” Ned drawled.
”That was the idea, I understand. Listen, we can do this two ways. I and the half squad I got waiting on the other side of this hill can follow you, or we can work together. Colonel thinks we'd do better that way. What's your call?”
”We're doing pretty good on our own,” Ned answered.
”Can't argue that, but our search map shows a definite bias to this area, even before we factored you in. All the Colonel asks is that you listen to what we've got and share what you're willing. You know you're not the only search party out.”
”Not after last night,” Ned growled, but he smiled.
”Not before either. Vicky Sterling has had a team out for a while, we think. Some religious fanatics are on the trail, too, though we don't know how long they've been at it. We picked that up from net chatter, but that's kind of drying up this morning.”
”Wonder why?” Ned grinned sardonically.
”Anything you do has upsides and downsides; at least that's what Mary keeps telling me. Most of my life, everything I done had its downside and its downer side, but the padre is helping me find a bright side. You willing to help?”
”I'll at least take a gander at your map,” Ned conceded.
”How'd you find me?” Jeff asked as he helped Dumont up on a horse for a quick ride to his team.
”Electrocardiac fingerprint,” Dumont said, settling himself none too confidently on his mount, then making a stab at his chest. ”Everyone's heart is a bit different. Doc took your cardiacprint as a matter of course when you signed on with us. We set the sky eyes”-now he pointed up-”looking for you. Found you this morning. Since Mary and Harry were headed south to start mining, I was told to hitch a ride and tie in with you. Now, how do you put this animal in gear?”
Jeff shook his head. How could someone find you by your heartbeat but not know how to mount a horse or get it walking. Starmen were full of contradictions.
Ray took Dumont's call. He was glad Old Ned was throwing in with them and he and Du were hitting it off. Ray needed Mary at base, and Ca.s.sie in Refuge. That left either Dumont or Tico, Mary's junior sergeant, chasing the vanis.h.i.+ng box. Dumont had drawn the long straw; The word that Annie and Nikki were just ahead of them was encouraging; that half a dozen riders were with them now was not. Somebody was hot on the box's trail; Ray chose to a.s.sume that group was Vicky's. The two sky eyes he could spare were now sweeping ahead of Dumont. Between Old Ned's information network and their own, they just might find the box ahead of the others.
Lek brought the first hint that Refuge's att.i.tude might be changing. It seemed that all official workstations were now isolated in specific pools-and turned on only when in use. Phone usage and net traffic were way up, lots of people talking over Ray's message. Official traffic was as close to zilch as you could get and still pa.s.s along weather reports and train schedules. Maybe he had been a bit too sweeping in his approach.
His calls to San Paulo went unanswered. When Hen did call, she was alone. Without preamble, she launched into a long list of Refuge's requirements, including a veiled hint that all the blimps were needed back. Ray pointed out that their security depended on blimp-based surveillance systems and offered to pay for them. That brought forth a not very veiled hint that the Monetary Reform Act of yesterday could be repealed today. Ray had just taken a call from Mary about her reception in New Haven, so Ray countered that threat with one of his own. Chu Lyn was in no rush to side with Vicky Sterling on monetary policy. The call ended quickly after that, nothing resolved.
Mary's reception in New Haven had not gone all that well, since she had opened the meeting with Chu by buying all the land they intended to mine. It about wiped them out of spare change, but the land was theirs free and clear. Chu had the good grace to accept the purchase. Mary had the miners quickly at work, producing the raw metal that could, if confidence returned, fuel New Haven's return to normal business.
Encouraging was the number of calls from people who wanted to help find the vanis.h.i.+ng box. Not just people who thought they might have seen it, but people willing to join search parties. A few called with suspicions that their brothers or sisters, aunts or uncles might be one of the mysterious three. Kat followed those up. It looked to Ray like he'd called it right.
Still, being right made all the powers-that-be around here wrong. That put him in the wrong by definition. Oh, for the good old days when an artillery sh.e.l.l was either aimed right-and blew away your enemy-or was aimed wrong and gave him time to blow you away. Life was so much simpler then.
When Ray's nostalgia got cynical, it was time for a break.
A call to Ca.s.sie found her off duty and in church. Yes, she could s.h.i.+p back her second squad to reinforce the base. She could throw another thousand volunteers at the base, too. Ray accepted and had Chief Barber rotate blimps down to Refuge to pick them up. Never more than one blimp on the ground, so San Paulo couldn't repossess but one. That ought to do it.
Personnel was getting critical. Automated plants were a contradiction in terms; someone had to provide their feedstock. Someone had to take the packages off the a.s.sembly line. A lot was being done by backbreaking labor, much of it carried in horse-drawn wagons.
The chief was pulling out what little hair he had left, hiring anything that walked on two feet and the doc a.s.sured him had a small enough tumor. That was something Mary and the doc agreed on. Anyone below a certain age and above a certain tumor diameter was given a thanks-but-no-thanks slip and hastened out of town. This still left Hay wondering if they were covering all the bases.
Just because a human wasn't being driven crazy by the Teacher didn't guarantee they wouldn't act dumb out of normal human cantankerousness. Mary and Barber just looked at Ray and asked for more workers. Base security was at rock bottom. Only half a squad of marines were left, six lonely troopers headed by Tico, Mary's junior NCO. Mary had a.s.signed a chief to help Tico out, providing adult leaders.h.i.+p and such.
Each young marine private now led a platoon of one hundred local recruits equipped with riot s.h.i.+elds, helmets, and clubs. A senior petty officer was detailed as deputy to each, providing support and guidance on nonsecurity matters. Security and nonsecurity matters weren't all that easy to separate.