The Tunnels of Rasand by M S Lawson - HTML preview

“Wouldn’t have to out here,” said Nate. “They’d tie you up and leave you for the Morlocks. Your body'd never be found, and our disappearance would be attributed to them.”

“Oh my! Oh my!” said Mac. “You have to take me straight back to the city.”

“I would, but our friends out there present a problem,” said Nate. “We have to get past them. The guard carrier has better armament than this thing, and they seem to be able to follow us from a distance, which is interesting. If we can get to Station Two, I may have a way of calling in.”

“Really, how is that?” asked Dan.

“Show you when we get there. For now, just drive.”

Nate watched the dust cloud intently for the next forty minutes, but the carrier seemed to be keeping its distance. Finally, Station Two came into sight. Like Station Five, where Nate and Dan had been ambushed, it was a concrete box on top of a concrete slab, but unlike Station Five, the Morlocks seemed to have left it alone. The scans did not show anything. They drove right up to the station’s door.

“We’re not stopping, guys, but you might as well get out, as we need to discuss what to do next. Dan, keep both the carrier hatch and the station door open, and keep an eye out for Morlocks as well as our friends in the carrier.”

Nate lugged the portable scanning unit that had let them down at Station Five into the concrete box that was Station Two and plugged it into a wall jack.

“What good will that do?” asked Marta.

“Didn’t you see? There’s a small dish on top of the box, as well as some solar collectors and a battery on the wall here. This unit is meant to connect to the city net to send alerts. The main thing is that there’s a voice comm channel on this thing with a built-in microphone. It's designed to communicate with the whole room. We flick a switch, and the patrol command room should pick up straight away, especially if it’s a dull day.”

Nate flicked a switch marked voice; heard someone say “control,” and opened his mouth to speak when three shots slammed into the scanning unit, knocking it over. He whirled around to see Trainee Office Dan Whyatt holding a gun on him.

Dan brought a small radio unit he was carrying up to his mouth and said, “Had to act, come up.”

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Nate had earned his reputation as a top patrol officer in part because he could keep calm in a crisis, but even he was stunned. It took several moments for him to process this gross betrayal - moments taken up with whoever was on the other end of the radio link asking him to repeat the message. Dan did so and added, “had to stop them calling in. Got a gun on them. Come fast.”

The other party cursed and agreed.

“Traitor!” spat Mack.

“Shut up, chancellor,” snarled Dan. It was the first time Nate had heard the trainee raise his voice.

“You called them on that thing when I got out the first time to check on that dust cloud,” said Nate, his mind beginning to work. “They had time to hide behind some rocks. You weren’t alone the second time until Marta got out. I was able to catch a glimpse before you warned them, and they hid.”

“Congratulations,” sneered Dan. “The great Captain Olsen worked it out. Well, guess what, you’re not going to be so great real soon.”

Nate had never even suspected the hidden depths of bitterness and bile in his trainee. He was going to have to work on his people skills.

“What did they offer you?” asked Nate. Mack started to say something, and Nate gestured for her to be silent. She had the sense to shut up.

“Everything I wanted,” said Dan. “A spot on the guard away from Patrol and the Morlocks. The time we were ambushed in Station Five, I was terrified.” Dan almost shouted the last three words. “I always wanted guard, but I could only get patrol and ended up in desert hell holes, listening to cruddy music from centuries ago.”

“My choice of music bothered you that much?” said Dan, shifting his weight onto his front foot. He would have one chance. “What did they say? It’s about the chancellor, right?”

“Of course it’s about the chancellor,” snapped Dan. “The people I’m dealing with want control, and her senator husband wants to be with his teenage mistress.”

“Shit!” said Mack. “So, it was true about the intern! The bastard!”

“And I get some power,” said Dan.

“Sure, Dan, but aren’t you overlooking a basic problem?”

Nate edged a little closer.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“They can’t have you walking around after this incident. Everyone knows you went out on patrol with me, the chancellor, and Marta. We’re supposed to disappear in a Morlock ambush, but there you are walking around. You’re not coming back either.”

“What….”

“As soon as they get here, they’re going to tie you up with us – maybe take us to the place where we expected to stop the night, which they would have passed on to the Cactuar. No wonder they watched us leave. The Cactuar have this morbid fascination with death. To see a doomed group of humans leave the city would have been a real turn-on for them. You’re in the same boat as the rest of us, Dan.”

He edged closer.

“You’re wrong,” the trainee officer said desperately. “They gave me their word!”

“The word of a bunch of murderers,” sneered Nate. “Why do you think they agreed to everything you asked? Because they knew they’d kill you along with us. Why argue? But they made one big mistake: they also badly underestimated the Morlocks. They’re coming for us right now.”

“What?”

“Look at the unit screen.”

Dan Whyatt had just put three bullets into the unit, and the screen was on the ground, completely blank, but the trainee officer’s fear of Morlocks made him turn his head for a moment to look. That was all the opening Nate wanted or was about to get. He had thought of trying to draw his pistol, but considered he had a better chance if he charged, so he changed. Turning so that his right hand was in front, his fingertips connected with the weapon, pushing it slightly off-line a split second before Dan’s head snapped back, and he fired. Nate felt the bullet’s clip a button on his shirt. Then his shoulder connected with Dan, smashing the trainee against the wall. Dan tried to bring his gun around, but Nate was able to grab the man’s wrist with his left hand and smash his right into Dan’s jaw with all the strength of desperation. The trainee went down, Nate stripping the pistol out of his hand, just as he heard Mack scream “Marta”.

Sparing another second to rip the trainee’s second pistol out of its holster, Nate turned to find Marta on the floor, holding her left arm, and Mack kneeling over her.

“So much blood,” said the chancellor, holding Marta, who was now crying out in agony.

“We have some med stuff in the carrier,” said Nate. It was a lot of blood, but it wasn’t spurting. No artery had been severed. But a quick look indicated that the bone might have been broken.

“Then get it,” said Mack.

“No, we take her to the carrier. I’ve gotta grab Dan. Can you lift her?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Just help me up,” said Marta, stifling another cry of agony. “I can stagger part way.”

“Do it, fast,” said Nate. He returned to Dan, who was about to get up again, grabbed his now former trainee by the collar, and dragged him through the station door and into the carrier. The would be assassins were not yet in sight, nor was there any sign of the Morlocks. Each patrol carrier had a set of plastic ties in case they ever had to restrain anyone. As far as Nate knew, no patrol officer had ever used them. He used them now, tying Dan’s hands behind his back and around the fixed stands of one of the rear seats.

“I should leave you for your friends,” said Nate, as he tied the trainee’s feet, “but they might just kill you and, worthless pile of shit though you turned out to be, I don’t want your death on my conscience.”

“Fuck you,” said Dan. Nate did not bother to reply.

Then he went to help Mack and Marta as they struggled out of the station’s door, lifting Marta and putting her on one of the carrier’s pull-down beds. He pulled out the medical kit from its spot underneath the driver’s seat and grabbed an ampule of anaesthetic.

“You allergic to anything?” he asked Martha. She shook her head, then sighed with relief when he injected the substance. He had never done that before, either.

“She needs a hospital,” said Mack.

“Yep. We’ll be driving straight to the city if I can figure out what to do about our friends out there. First off, see this stuff here? They are bandages with reinforcements; just put one around the wound, and it should automatically mould the bones into place as well as stop the bleeding.”

“The bullet’s still in there,” said Mack.

“Like you said, we need a hospital, the faster the better, but our friends will be here in a moment. Come to think of it, work on Marta, but be ready to close the carrier hatch fast when I say.”

 

The second carrier, when it roared onto the concrete apron around Station Two, proved to be not so much a carrier as a modified desert dune buggy with the cabin enclosed and a large gun, a 25-millimetre chain gun, mounted on top. The weapon looked to be a recent, ad hoc addition, Nate thought, as it would have to be loaded by one of the crew standing up at a hatch behind the gun. Another problem was that it had no apparent armour apart from bars across the front of the vehicle protecting the radiator grill in case the vehicle ran into something. The grill was also protected from sand by a light cloth tied over it. All the insignias and markings had been removed.

Having just finished putting adhesive tape from the medical kit across the mouth of his former trainee, Nate looked out through the window of the patrol carrier as the vehicle stopped on the apron a few metres from the station itself. The men inside might have tried contacting Dan. Nate could just hear the radio squawking on the floor of the station where he had left it. Had he thought of it, he would have brought the radio unit in and made Dan say something. Too late now.

The assassins hesitated for a time, but they could see that the hatch of the carrier and the door of the station were still open. Three men got out. All were armed with assault rifles and pistols. One, a big, heavy-set man with close cropped hair, was wearing a guard uniform with the insignias removed. The other two had longer hair, close-set eyes, and were wearing whatever shorts and tee-shirts they had to hand in their wardrobes when they were recruited off the streets of Rasand. Otherwise, they were all dark eyed, dark haired, and looked mean.

“Mack, take a look,” whispered Nate. “You recognise any of these guys?”

Mack left her place by Marta’s side to peek through the window.

“Shit!” she said. “The guy on the right is a captain and a favourite of that ghastly general. I’ll think of his name in a moment. I dunno about the other two.”

“Whoever they are, I’m guessing they’re not choirboys. Get ready by that hatch.”

“Hey, Dan,” called the captain. “What’s going on?”

They walked towards the station, one of the choir boys moving to the patrol carrier.

Nate fired, sweeping the area with the patrol carrier’s 50-cal. He didn’t try to kill the men. Despite all that had happened, bodies would have been hard to explain away or justify. Instead, he started his sweep well to the left, giving the choir boys time to dive to the concrete apron. The captain, with more sense, dived behind the guard carrier.

Mack slammed the carrier hatch shut. “Go,” she said, returning to Marta.

Nate spent another few seconds shredding the tyres on one side of the guard carrier with the 50 Cal, then he took off, spraying bullets into the air as he left, heading directly for the city. There was no time for subtlety.

“Mack, strap Marta in firmly. We’ve got some distance to cover.”

“Yep,” she said.

“And there’s some sedatives in that kit. It might be better if you can get her to sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” Marta said.

“You’ll sleep if I tell you to sleep,” said Mack.

A little later, the chancellor came to the front and sat in the seat Dan had occupied.

“Did you kill anyone back there?”

“Don’t think so. I just sprayed the area. I’ll leave those guys for the police.”

“Quite right,” said Mac. “But you were firing at something.”

“Yep, I blew out some of their tyres. If they’re anything like me, they’ll have enough spares to replace what I’ve shredded, but they’ll have to change them, and that should buy us time.”

As it happened, Nate got far less time than he thought he would. They were about an hour into the drive back when he saw the tell tale cloud of dust in the rear view cam.

“They’ve caught us up, already?” he said. “How is that possible? How did they change the tyres so fast and then track us out here?”

“There were three of them in that carrier,” said Mac.

“Four, probably. I don’t think the driver got out.”

“That captain – Captain Horvat – is supposed to be a good organiser. Changing the tyres might not have taken so long.”

“But he wouldn’t know much about the desert. How was he able to find us, so quickly…?” Nate abruptly switched driving over to the AI, got up, and walked back to Dan, still slumped on the floor. He ripped the tape off his former trainee’s lips and grabbed the man’s shirt. “Okay, where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

Nate banged the man’s head against the seat pylon. “The tracking device. Your life depends on you telling me where it is.”

“You going to beat me to death if I don’t tell you?” said Dan, and he smiled.

His former meek and mild trainee, Nate decided, had unsuspected, black depths – a thoroughly nasty human being.

“I mean, if your friends catch up with us, they’ll kill you along with us. Where is the tracking device?”

“Death is kinda looking interesting right now,” said Dan, still smiling. “I mean, if I go back, I’m disgraced and thrown in prison for a long time, right?”

“I can put in a good word for you,” said the Chancellor, who had come down to the back and was holding on while the carrier rocked. “Get you maybe a couple of years. Then you get a quiet life managing a store or a warehouse, bossing synths around.”

“And you never have to come near the desert or Morlocks again,” said Nate, “and get to choose your own music.”

Dan thought about this for a moment. “Under the dash on my side, on that shelf they have in there.”

Nate went back to the driving station and groped under the dash. Sure enough, a small device was taped to the fixtures on Dan’s side. He ripped it out, flipped open the top hatch, and threw it as far as he could to one side. Then he looked back. The modified dune buggy was visible in the distance. The tracking device no longer mattered. The other vehicle was very much faster than his own and gaining. They had perhaps another hour of driving before the city came into sight, but the rival carrier, Nate estimated, would have his vehicle in effective range within half an hour at the most.

They were in trouble.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

Nate returned to the driver’s seat and checked the forward scans. Just when he wanted a Morlock ambush, there were none to be seen. He explained the problem to Mack, sitting on Dan’s side.

“They don’t even have to get right up to us,” he said. “Their vehicle is designed for combat. Its weapon is twice the calibre of ours, and it’d be computer controlled.”

“How long do you think?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe.”

Mack took out her phone. “Still no coverage. Where can we get to in twenty minutes that might make a difference? You’re the desert expert.”

Nate flicked through the digital map he had displayed on a full screen on the carrier dash. It occurred to him that their uninvited friends wouldn’t have a map like that or know much about the desert at all.

“That’s the other reason they were following us,” he said aloud.

“What reason is that?” said Mack.

“They don’t know enough to find their own way. I constantly scan for Morlock ambushes and know where the dangers lie. After the guard detachment disaster, they would at least be cautious ….” His voice trailed away. “Okay, desperate times, right? We head for The Shade. The outskirts are about ten minutes away.”

Nate took the carrier’s controls, swerved left, and set a new course, wringing a little extra power out of the engine. Their pursuers followed suit, Nate noticed, but didn’t follow exactly in his path. Instead, they turned to intercept his trail for a slight gain in distance. That was interesting.

“You said Patrol didn’t cross the Shade as it's too dangerous,” said Mack.

“We don’t because it is. But I have a better chance of surviving going across it than they do. At least, that’s the plan.”

“I see,” said Mack. “I can’t help with that, I guess, but I can offer an incentive.”

“I’m all for incentives if it means I get one,” said Nate.

“With my husband revealed as the lying, cheating scum that he is,” said Mack, “I should be upset over that and over being humiliated and betrayed by him with a teenage intern. But somehow, I’m not. I feel liberated and virtuous. He was the one who broke the marriage. It also means I am free to offer an incentive.”

She leant forward and whispered in Nate’s ear. “You get me out of this, then no more light flirting. You can have your spanking, and anything else I can do for you.” She finished with a small kiss on his cheek and sat back.

“Hey, that’s… that’s a real incentive,” said Nate, looking at her. “Now I’m motivated. Do they teach you that in management courses?”

Mack shook her head. “Girl school,” she said quietly.

“What about me?” said Dan from the back. “Do I get an incentive, too?”

“By tagging along, you might get to live,” said Nate. “Now shut up. You don’t want to remind me of my other plan of increasing speed by throwing out excess weight.”

Dan shut up, and Nate went back to his digital map. Some of the Morlock tunnels were marked on the map, but no effort had been made to keep that section up to date. In any case, Patrol Command had long suspected that the tunnels under The Shade changed constantly. Any maps would quickly become obsolete. However, there were one or two sections where there seemed to be many more tunnels than the rest of the area. Nate adjusted course to suit. Again, their pursuers did not follow their tracks but turned to intercept their path for a small gain.

Then they were in The Shade, and the forward scanning unit lit up with warnings of possible ambush sites. But by then, the desert buggy was close, far too close. The pursuers tried one shot with the mounted gun, only for the shot to go wild. Nate noticed an area where several tunnels appeared to intersect. He jinked around it, only to see the pursuing vehicle power straight through the area without falling into any of the tunnels, closing the gap slightly.

Nate tried again, but again the rival buggy powered through the area and tried another shot, which narrowly missed.

“Where are the Morlocks when you need them?” exclaimed Nate.

Across their path, winds had piled up a gigantic dune, one of a series that was a feature of that part of The Shade. There was no choice but to climb it. The modified buggy was probably a better climber than the patrol carrier, but maybe the buggy driver would not know that going too fast could be as big a problem as going too slow. Nate went up the dune at about the right speed, adjusting air pressure in the tyres as he was able to from the cabin. Their pursuers gained. But once at the top, Nate reduced speed and turned to the right, just below the crest. Sure enough, the other vehicle shot over the top of the dune and was part way down the slope and still sliding, before they realised that the patrol carrier was no longer in front of them. By that time, Nate’s vehicle had gone back over the dune and was well down the other side.

“Score one for us,” said Mack triumphantly. “Too much to hope that you’ve lost them permanently.”

“It is too much to hope,” said Nate. “I think they know enough now to look for dust clouds, and I’ve got to reduce speed. The AI is flagging problems with the engine. Don’t suppose you’ve got coverage.”

Mack took out her digital assistant and waved it around. “Still nothing.”

Again, the pursuers took far less time than Nate thought possible to work out where the patrol carrier must have gone and climb back up to the top of the dune to look for them. On the rear-view screen, Nate saw the rival buggy emerge on top of the Dune and try a shot at long range. He jinked to the right, more to do something rather than in any expectation that it might help. As it was, the shot came horrifyingly close, spraying sand just a few metres from the carrier.

“We’re going to have to start zigzagging,” said Nate.

There were no more dunes in front of them, which meant that he couldn’t try the same trick again and, in any case, Nate thought, his opponents had proved to be shrewd and resourceful. He doubted the same trick would work twice. But what trick would work? In lieu of a better idea, Nate went back to scanning for Morlock tunnels. Perhaps the problem was that he was looking for a lot of tunnels together, assuming that meant the ground would be weak. But maybe the Morlocks paid special attention to strengthening tunnels when they were close together. What about a single tunnel close to the surface?

Nate altered course so that they were heading directly towards the city and started scanning. He deliberately went over one likely location, thinking that he could gun straight through if the area started to subside. Nothing.

“Wasn’t this place supposed to be dangerous?” thought Nate.

Then he had to zig-zag. He couldn’t make the arms of each zig and zag very long, as the changes would quickly become predictable, and it slowed him down too much. As it was, his pursuers started gaining ground rapidly. They tried another shot, which missed by a hair's breadth.

“Not long now,” said Mack, grimly.

Nate fired the carrier’s machine gun, more to be seen to strike back than through any real hope of hitting their pursuers, or so Nate hoped they would think. They charged on, Nate firing a couple more times, but seemingly at random into the ground. The buggy followed at full speed, apparently deciding not to waste any more ammunition for their big gun until they were close enough to put the matter beyond doubt. That would be a matter of minutes.

Nate checked the scans eagerly. The Morlocks were always digging tunnels, he thought, so where was the single tunnel he needed? There! Nate drove over the area as fast as he could, then stopped dead and fired into the ground at maximum rate, letting the barrel overheat. They were close enough to see one of their pursuers, Nate thought that he had the build and look of the Guard Captain, pop out of the hatch behind the buggy’s primary weapon, and load it. He waited for the captain to aim, then surged forward, turning to make sure the buggy followed him directly over the prepared area. He could see the captain load the weapon again, take aim, and even grin as he reached for a firing switch. Then the buggy tipped forward and almost disappeared, only to get hung up on the chain gun, which sank nearly up to its breech in the sand.

Nate turned back and stopped about twenty meters from the buggy, now hopelessly stuck in the caved-in roof of the Morlock tunnel. Fortunately for the buggy’s crew, there did not seem to be any Morlocks around. He grabbed an assault rifle from the carrier’s armoury and climbed out on top of the vehicle.

“Hey, guys!” he called.

“What?” said the man who had been manning the support gun and was now pulling his comrades out of the buggy.

“Get out and start walking. Remember to save your water and weapons, and you should survive until nightfall. I’ll send someone back for you, which is more than you deserve.”

“Get fucked,” snarled the man.

“Charming,” said Nate. He turned to see that Mack had also climbed out to stand beside him on the roof of the carrier.

“I see you, Captain Horvat!” she yelled. “You tried to assassinate me! Me! You'd better hope the Morlocks get you before I start with all the official processes, like indictments for treason and attempted murder.”

“This isn’t over, Bitch!” snarled Horvat.

If Nate had not restrained her, Mack would have jumped down, run over, and taken on Horvat, who was twice her size.

“That animal,” she spat, as Nate wrestled her into the hatch. “Tried to assassinate me and then called me ‘bitch’. Where does someone like that get off?”

“Dunno,” said Nate, finding the sensation of wrestling with the chancellor an interesting one, “but there’s nothing to be gained from attacking him.” He pushed her down the hatch ladder and followed her. “We need to get back to the city. He said it wasn’t over.”

“That’s right, he did,” said Mack, brushing hair out of her eyes. Nate thought it was a charming gesture. “What did he mean?”

“Best way to find out is to get to the city before those guys walk into call range. Any connection with your assistant?”

Mack waved the unit around again as they drove off.

“Nothing,” she said eventually.

“Keep an eye on it and start making calls the moment we get in range. Whoever is behind this is well organised. I suspect we’ve got more work ahead of us.”

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

By the time they reached the city gates, Mack had made a host of calls, and most of those contacted were surprised to hear that she was still alive. The most concerning call was to the personal line of the deputy chancellor, which was answered by an assistant.

“Who is this?” said the assistant.

“Evelyn, this is Chancellor Mackenzie Markovic. I need to speak to your boss right now.”

“This is a lie,” said Evelyn. “The chancellor is dead.”

“I’m not dead, Evelyn,” said Mack. “I know you’re married to a Martin and have two kids in day care.”

“So would any scam artist,” she responded. “We were warned against prank calls.”

“Prank calls!” spluttered Mack, but before she could speak again, Evelyn shouted, “I’m reporting this to the police,” and hung up. Calls to two other senate offices met with blank incomprehension by the assistants and suggestions that Mack call the deputy chancellor’s office. Then Mack thought to call the AI city management system called Cindy, which had been instrumental in appointing her to the chancellor’s job in the first place. Mack was the only person in the city able to call the city system directly from her mobile.

“I was officially informed you were dead, and I’ve changed all the access codes and clearances you had,” said Cindy.

“Can you change them back again, please?” asked Mack.

“I need official confirmation that you’re still alive,” said Cindy. “I can tell from your voice patterns that it probably is you, and I can track your assistant unit, but I need to see you in person and do the imprinting again.” This procedure involved taking Mack’s fingerprints and DNA, which could only be done in the chancellor’s office inside Rasand's government HQ. However, that area was now shut off to her, and most importantly, her droid guard had been reset. She would now be treated as an intruder instead of the chancellor.

“Ask Cindy if there’s any back way in that she can allow us to use on her own initiative,” said Nate. Mack had put all conversations on speaker so that he would know what was going on.

“You are with Captain Olsen?” asked Cindy. “It is good to speak with you officially, Captain Olsen. Mack and I have talked about you at length.”

“It’s Nate, please, and really? What did you two girls say about me?”

“Never you mind,” said Mack, sharply, cutting off a tiny sort of amusement from Cindy about being categorised as a girl. Nat noticed that she also blushed, but he did not say anything. “What can you do for us, Cindy?”

“Hmmm! There is a service elevator that starts at sub-basement two ….”

“Come to think of it,” interrupted Nate, suddenly remembering that Dan could listen to their conversation and might tell others what they were going to do, “we’ll get rid of our passengers, then call you back. We have to call Patrol Command. The city is in sight.”

Nate then used his own phone-assistant to call the command centre to get Rachel, the duty officer for that shift, who was almost as surprised as the deputy chancellor’s assistant.

“You’re alive?” she exclaimed.

“Of course, I’m alive,” said Nate, “and so is the chancellor who is here. We survived a serious attempt to assassinate the whole party, which also involved taking out our coms. But look at the control centre screens. You see a carrier approaching the East Gate. That’s us, and we want to be let in. You’ll also have to send out a carrier to rescue the assassination party.”

“I’ve been told to lock down the city.”

“I’m the chancellor, and I’m countermanding the order,” said Mack.

“I think I still have to get the colonel’s okay.”

“Have her call me on my number,” said Mack. “And she can call Captain Olsen. In any case, you cannot leave people outside the city, regardless of your orders. That would breach more safety directives than I can count.”

“Leave it with me,” said Rachel. “I’ll open up when you come, but I will check with the colonel.”

“Do that,” said Mack, “and I’ll want to speak with her. There are deep things going on.”

By the time they got to the city, its officialdom was in an uproar. The colonel spoke to Nate and Mack, then issued an official note to say that the chancellor was still alive and was returning to the city, after apparently surviving an assassination attempt, although details were unclear. This was promptly and angrily denied by the deputy chancellor’s office and by the office of the Senate Majority Leader, Mack’s husband.

“I’ll send him our deepest, darkest prison cell,” growled Mack as they charged along city streets. Nate finally got to use the horn and flashing lights, which were standard in patrol carriers, and ignored attempts by police to pull the vehicle over. High speed pursuits were unheard of in Rasand. They arrived at the city hospital, a police car vainly chasing the carrier, and pulled up at the emergency entrance.

They were lifting the still unconscious Marta through the carrier hatch when the police constable, with a synth offsider, found them and started complaining.

“You can’t bring a patrol carrier into the city… oh, hello, chancellor.”

“My friend has been shot,” said Mack, “to hospital attendants who had come out with a mobile bed.

“What has she been shot with?” asked the attendant.

“Patrol issue nine-millimetre, standard metal jacket,” said Nate. “As you can see, she got it in the upper arm, and the bullet is still in there.”

“Who fired this bullet, and where is the crime scene?” asked the constable. He was not long out of the academy, where he’d been drilled in the checklist of questions to ask.

“The crime took place at station two, which is a long way out of the city that way.” Nate pointed southeast. “But I can get you the shooter and weapon. Hold on.”

Nate went back into the carrier, cut Dan loose, and dragged the man out to be presented to the constable, along with the gun he had used.

“This man shot my friend with that gun,” said Mack.

“We’ll need to take a formal statement,” said the constable. “You’ll have to come with me to the police station.”

“We’ll be along later,” said Nate. “You can chat with Dan here in the meantime, and Dan.”

“What?” The former trainee had at least stopped grinning.

“If you hated 60s Britpop so much, I could have thrown in some disco.”

“Oh, very funny,” said Dan.

Nate and Mack got back into the carrier and sped off, ignoring the constable’s protests that he needed statements. As they had previously discussed, having the police onside would be useful, but that would involve hours of interrogation at a police station before the detectives involved would consult the next level of command. The process could take hours, by which time the coup might have succeeded, and the fact that Mack was still alive would have become an inconvenient detail. Mack could call the commissioner himself, but that man was likely to be unsympathetic and unwilling to commit himself. In all, it was better to stay ahead of the decision-making process.

As they drove, Mack called Cindy again to ask about her plan to access the chancellor’s office. This time, there was no Dan to hear the conversation and possibly tell others.

“As I was telling you before,” said Cindy, “there is a service elevator that goes up to the floor below the chancellor’s level, but there is security on that floor, and the droids are patrolling the floor above.”

“We’ll take it,” said Nate. “Can you arrange it so that security is not alerted to the movement of the elevator, or the arrival of this carrier?”

“I cannot do that. It conflicts with safety protocols.”

“Is there anyone in the chancellor’s office?” asked Nate.

“They’ve all been sent home while we finalise the procedures for the handover of offices. I have suspended the handover procedure until the fate of the chancellor is clarified. I can do that without formal proof.”

“Then no one’s safety is at risk,” said Nate. “Divert security on the floor below, or better yet, nullify the security cameras. Just have them give the same image of an empty hallway when we arrive. There’s a stairwell door close to the freight elevator door, yes?”

“There is.”

“We can get to the stairwell with no one the wiser. All you have to do is unlock it, and it’s only the droids in danger. Your safety protocols have not been breached.”

“Hmmm!” This was a surprisingly human noise made by Cindy. “That seems to work, although it will invoke a review of my protocols.”

“Once I’m back in office, I can set aside those reviews,” said Mack.

“You can,” said Cindy. “This is a very human approach.”

“Actually, it’s a legalistic approach, but we’ll have you thinking like a human yet,” said Mack.

When they arrived at the government house’s underground car park entrance, they realised the patrol carrier would not fit. Nate threw a few necessities, including more of the plastic ties he had used on Dan, several conventional hand grenades that were a standard part of the carrier’s arsenal, two pistols with spare ammunition and a crowbar, and left the vehicle on the footpath by the entrance.

“Chancellor, you’re alive!” said the security man on duty.

“And I’m going to stay that way,” said Mack.

“You can’t leave that vehicle here,” he protested as they jogged away.

“Keep an eye on it,” Nate called. “I’ll come back for it.”

They dodged a couple of the electric vehicles used by the city commuters, shaped like capsules, whose drivers were obviously puzzled by the appearance of pedestrians well away from the elevators. One woman did a double take when she recognised the chancellor. Nate thought he saw her reach for her phone assistant. They needed to find the freight elevator fast.

They scrambled down one flight of stairs, then another, with Mack being coached on where to go by Cindy through her phone-assistant unit. Then they skirted a long row of capsule-like e-cars to find the freight elevator.

Nate pushed the call button and then heard someone yell, “Security, looking for intruders.”

He pulled Mack down behind one of the parked cars.

“I’m the chancellor,” whispered Mack. “I don’t have to hide.”

“No sense in taking chances,” Nate whispered back. “In any case, they’ll want to take us to the security office and confirm our story – it could take hours.”

A pair of security men, guns drawn, walked past their hiding place.

“Are we really supposed to shoot at the chancellor?” they heard one say to the other.

“It’s just some impostor,” said the second guard.

As the guards were walking away, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Both men instinctively whirled and raised their pistols.

“I’m no impostor!” said Mack indignantly, standing up from behind the car.

Nate caught a shift in the guard’s attitude; a hint that they were far more determined than even the conversation they had heard indicated, and pulled Mack down again just as both guards fired. He fired back, leaning around the car they were hiding behind, making sure that both guards felt the wind of the shot. The guards dived for cover. While they were distracted, Nate pulled Mack into the elevator and slapped the button for the top floor. The doors closed, and the elevator rose.

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

“They shot at me,” said Mack, indignantly, as she stood up.

“When you get confirmed again, you can fire a few people,” said Nate. “And find out who spread the synth story.”

“My enemies will feel my wrath,” said Mack. “It’s something to live for.”

“Until then, we’re still in trouble. You've got Cindy on the line? Tell her we’ll stop at the floor below the top for this thing.” Nate slapped the button for that floor. “And ask if she can fix the cameras on that floor and the electronic lock on the stairwell.”

“Sure, but why?”

“’Cause I’m pretty sure they’ll be waiting for us at the top level, no matter what the cameras show. Those security guys, if they were actual guards, were serious, and I shot back. I didn’t hit anyone, deliberately, but now they’ll just shoot on sight.”

Mack told Cindy what to do as they rode upward. Another thought occurred to Nate.

“If Cindy can’t unlock the stairwell doors, can she tell us an emergency code for the doors?”

“I can unlock the door on that level,” she said when Mack relayed the request. “But not the door at the very top. That’s still barred by security procedures I cannot break.”

“We’ll take it,” said Nate, “and thanks. We’ve got security protocols of our own.” He handed Mack one of the pistols he had brought and disengaged the safety catch. “It’s now live. You pull the trigger, and a bullet flies out. Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you mean to use it.”

Mack nodded and took the weapon.

“Any handgun can be inaccurate at more than a couple of paces unless you’ve practiced. If you have to shoot, do it when the target is real close.”

Mack nodded again and managed a smile. “I hope my husband comes in range.”

The elevator stopped, and Mack and Nate stood to one side as the doors slid open. No one.

“Okay, good, quick,” said Nate, “before anyone realises we’re here.”

The stairwell door was a few paces away. He opened it as quietly as possible, whispering to Mack to tell Cindy to let the elevator ride to the next floor. He closed the door and started walking up. Turning to Mac, he put a finger on his lip, and she whispered into the phone assistant, telling Cindy not to speak.

They made it past the first landing without incident, but as they approached the top landing, Nate crept up close enough to see another guard leaning against the stairwell door, apparently bored out of his mind. This had to be hard and fast. He crept up a few more steps, then erupted up the stairs.

“Move or speak, and you’re dead,” he told the guard, a pistol on the man’s skull.

The no longer bored guard nodded. Nate took the man’s pistol, then used one of the ties he had brought to bind the man’s hands behind him, and taped his mouth shut. Now for the noisy part.

Nate used more tape to fasten two of the grenades to the security lock, with the pins outward, removing the safety clip. Technology may have changed in many ways, but grenades still worked much as they had during the World Wars on Earth.

“Take this guy down to the next landing,” he told Mack, gesturing at the guard, as he taped up the grenades. “I’m just about to ruin your nice security door. When the bang comes, block your ears and open your mouth.”

“Got it,” said Mack, leading the guard down the stairs.

Nate finished taping the grenades, saw that the chancellor was in position, pulled the pins, and then half ran, half fell down the stairs to cover both Mack and the prisoner with his body. Although Nate and Mack had both hands firmly clamped over their ears, the resulting bang was truly deafening, echoing right through the enclosed stairwell. After checking that the others were uninjured, although the guard was plainly affected by the noise, Nate grabbed the chancellor’s hand and pulled her back up the stairway, through the smoking, ruined door. An alarm was blaring, and a voice was declaring, “Intruder alert, intruder alert.”

“That woke them up,” he said, and he pulled the chancellor through a passageway into a reception area, just as two of the security synths arrived at the stairway door.

“Keep down,” he whispered.

The security droids did not talk to one another, of course. They were being directed from a control unit somewhere on that level. Nate did not know where that control unit was and did not have time to find out. In any case, they could probably network quite well without it. They also had perpetual 360-degree vision thanks to a single white band in about the same place a sweat band would be on a human. The band concealed several cameras. The head was a mould designed to reassure humans. Of more concern to Nate was that they also had mean-looking weapons – machine guns with massive box magazines.

He peeked around the corner of the open door into the passageway to see one droid go through the door while the other stayed put, no doubt carefully surveying the area through its hidden eyes. Nate hastily withdrew and grabbed Mack’s hand again to lead her to the door to the Chancellor’s administration offices proper. It was locked. Nate was wondering what to do when the door opened and the third droid walked through.

They were crouching very low, but as Nate knew, the droid did not have to turn around to see them and must have detected them almost immediately. It began turning, but Nate, grabbing the crowbar from his day pack, hit it hard on the nape of the neck and smashed into it with his shoulder. The droid staggered. The patrol officer then grabbed both its legs with his arms and yanked with all his might. Droids were no different from humans in that if their balance was badly upset, they would fall over. That droid fell with a shattering crash. Nate and Mack ran.

“Which way to your office?” said Nate. There was no point in being quiet; the droids would find them again soon enough.

“This way,” said Mack, and they dashed down another corridor to a door helpfully marked ‘Chancellor’s Office’. “This is the back way.” She rattled the handle. “It’s locked.”

“Just an ordinary key-code lock,” said Nate. “Excuse me, Chancellor.” He took another grenade from his backpack. “Is that door there, unlocked?”

“Yes,” said Mack, trying it.

“Okay, here we go, we have just seconds before the droids find us again.”

Nate taped the grenade to the lock and stepped through the door of the adjacent room, which held cleaning units and supplies. There was a whump, and they re-emerged just as the sound of heavy droids running came from the next corridor. One kick from Nate opened the door, which then hung drunkenly on one hinge.

“Go, go, I’ll hold them off… somehow.”

Mack charged off into another room, now talking openly to Cindy, as Nate looked around. A single bookcase stood against the wall, nearby. It contained expensively bound books, photographs, and a model of a yacht used to sail the seas of distant Earth. The patrol officer pushed the ruined door shut and yanked hard on the bookcase. It fell with a massive crash just in front of the door, and then Nate shoved it hard, lying almost parallel to the floor. The droids reached the door and rattled on it. They could have simply come in by the main entrance, Nate thought, and he wouldn’t have been able to do much, but they didn’t need to be subtle. They pushed hard, and Nate felt himself sliding over the carpet. His feet knocked over one of the chairs in front of the chancellor’s desk.

One of the droids – all three were pushing, no wonder he was losing, thought Nate – smashed its fist through the central panel of the solid door, twice, then poked its machine gun through to point it straight at Nate. The patrol officer was about to try to roll away, thinking the droid had him dead to rights, when he heard, “Security, stop!”

The droids stopped pushing, and the gun was withdrawn from the door.

“Cindy, tell the droids to return to their duties,” said Mack, speaking on her phone-assistant. “Station one by the stairwell door and another by the elevators. No one is to enter without my prior approval.

“Of course, Chancellor,” Nate heard Cindy say.

“I will see General Isle in about ninety minutes. All his access and security clearances are revoked until further notice. It is the same for my husband, Senator Gillard, who is to be permanently locked out of the chancellor’s house. He is to be brought here and kept in the waiting room until I am ready to see him. Issue a statement saying this: “quote, Chancellor Mackenzie Makarov has complete control of the city and will deal with certain groups in the city that tried to kill her and take power. Further details will be released in due course, but there is no need for citizens of this city to be concerned. All parts of the city will function normally. End quote. Cindy, take charge of the enquiry desk. There is no need for any staff to return tonight. Tell anyone from the media who inquires that I’m not available for comment, but further statements will be released when I have more to say.”

Mack hung up, put the assistant unit on her desk, and stood over Nate, who was still lying on the floor.

“You’ve been wrecking my office, Captain Olsen,” she said sternly, “and I just had it redone in the way that I like.”

“Well, it’s like this,” said Nate, holding out his hand for Mack to help him up. “I was doing it all for this really great woman, a few years older than me…”

“Four, I looked it up.”

“… who worked her feminine wiles upon me,” he stood up, “and made me all sorts of promises about what would happen if I helped her.”

Mack pulled Nate to her so that his arm wrapped around her, one hand resting on her arse, which he gently squeezed. She gasped, and they kissed. This time, she didn’t push him away.

“And that woman is going to make good on her promises, big time,” she said after their mouths unlocked. “In fact, I was thinking that it will be a while before my meeting with the general. A release from all the running around and blowing in all doors, combined with a dash of revenge, before I give my husband his marching papers, would go down well.”

Nate picked the chancellor up in his arms.

“Taking charge, Captain Olsen?” she said, coyly.

“Is there somewhere we can go?”

“There is a room with a bed where I sometimes take a nap,” she said, pointing at another door. “It’s through there - one of the few doors you haven’t blown open. Cindy, don’t bother me until the general arrives.”

“Yes, Chancellor,” said Cindy, as Nate carried Mack away.

 

END OF PART I

 

PART II

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

The occasion was a working dinner in the chancellor’s official residence. Mack had them sometimes when Nate was off on patrol in the months they had been together, and there had been no time for a business lunch. The chancellor occasionally mentioned them to Nate, who did not care, but she thought she might have to omit the details on this occasion as the dinner was with the handsome and distinguished Senator Theodore Komnenos.

Mack could not help but be flattered that she had scored dinner with the recently single Senator Komnenos, a heart throb among the females in the broad political community, even if it was about managing the Senate. Most of the available females in that community, and some who weren’t, would have gladly taken her place, and never mind the reason for the dinner.

As part of her strategy for handling the senator and the faction he represented, Mack had not mentioned that she had a boyfriend, and by a miracle, the relationship was not generally known. Mack’s friends knew about Nate. She often spent weekends at his place, and he occasionally spent the night at the chancellor’s official residence. But that had all slipped past the news feeds. The journalists of Rasand were not nearly as intrusive in personal matters as those of distant Earth. In any case, the general assumption had been that Mack would take her time in replacing her disgraced husband, Senator Corbin Gillard.

As there was little direct evidence against Gillard – Dan’s statement counted as hearsay – the senator had been allowed to resign, as had the guard’s General Isle. The Guard Captain and associates who had tried to kill Nate and Mack out in The Shade had been rescued and arrested. They would reside in the city’s small jail, along with disgraced patrol officer Dan, for several years before being allowed to take a low-level administrative or droid supervision job and forgotten. Mack had also insisted that the police genuinely clean house.

The ensuing fuss had given the chancellor much-needed extra authority in dealing with the Senate and city administration, with the additional benefit that no one in the political community had noticed that she and Nate were lovers. However, that “coup recovery effect,” as the news sites called it, was wearing off. Mack needed an edge and was not above a little flirting to get what she wanted. That night, Senator Komnenos was the target.

“Are you going to oppose the oversight committee’s recommendations for contractors on the new buildings in the reactor district?” asked Komnenos.

“That depends,” said Mack. “Have all the procedures for tendering been followed? How many bids were there, and what was the reason for choosing the winning contractor? I’ll look at their report on the matter and, if nothing stands out, then I’ll wave it through. I won't get caught up in administration unless I have to. The auditor’s office will also be looking. Of course, I always value your opinion on any matter.”

“Can’t ask for more,” said the senator, taking another bite of roast. “I don’t think there is any problem. But, you know, there’s another matter I wish to discuss.”

“Oh yes,” said Mack, smiling. “You know I’m interested I whatever you want to talk about.”

“Well, now that Corbin is out of the picture, I think we’d make a great couple. I want you to marry me.”

Later that night, the offer was relayed to Cindy, who promptly ran the proposal through her relationship decision-making matrices. She had previously put the Nate-Mack connection through these matrices, which, she said, drew on thousands of years of observations about human interactions, and found that it scored well. However, the rating for a Mack-Theodore connection was off the charts, particularly when it came to managing the senate.

“What did you tell the senator?” asked Cindy. “Did you tell him you have a boyfriend?”

“Well, no, I didn’t tell him about Nate,” said Mack. “I just said I had to think about it. To take the offer, I’d have to dump Nate, and I don’t want to do that. He’s sweet, supportive, and fun to be with.”

“You also like Senator Komnenos.”

“Well, yes… But I can’t have both.”

“You know what also rates off the charts?”

“What?”

“A connection between Mack and another woman,” said Cindy. “A professional, maybe – a lecturer, or a lawyer, perhaps – but without the high profile chancellor’s position. That can be a strain on anyone not in the political community. If you put him to one side, he would be free to find that partner.”

“He never mentioned anything about finding my job a strain,” said Mack.

“The relationship is still in the early phase matrix,” said Cindy. “My matrices clearly point to problems over the long term, and he’d be better off with someone else.”

“Really?” she said.

A week later, Mack slipped out of Nate’s bed and took off the faux-cotton top and pants, which she used as night clothes when she stayed with him, while Nate rolled over to enjoy the show. The chancellor had an excellent body, and she did not mind displaying it for her boyfriend. Sometimes she would turn to smile at him while he watched and even shake her hair. Not today, however.

“I’ll have to change at home and take a shower after my first meetings,” she said.

“I could come there and help you shower,” said Nate hopefully. “We could even squeeze in a spanking.” A few light slaps on the buttocks, both given and received, had become a thing between them. The custom had provided considerable amusement among Mack’s friends when she mentioned it at a girls’ night. A few had remarked that slapping Nate’s buttocks would be interesting. Mack had smiled and agreed.

“You have patrol work to do, Captain Olsen,” she said, putting her bra on and sitting on the bed so that Nate could fasten it. “Colonel Griggs gave me a hard enough time when I borrowed you for my personal guard after the coup attempt.”

Nate had stayed with the chancellor for two weeks while the coup plotters had been rounded up and dealt with. The job had fringe benefits.

“When will I come again?” asked Nate. “I should be back from the next patrol on Thursday this time.”

“About that,” said Mack, pulling on her casual slacks and not looking at Nate. “Things have changed. We have to call time.”

“You mean you’re dumping me?” said Nate, sitting up in bed. He had not been expecting this at all. Mack had been passionate during the night, not reluctant. In fact, they had not strayed far from his bed for most of the weekend.

“Well… yes, if you want to put it like that,” she said, turning to look at him. “I’m sorry, it’s just a few things together.”

“Like what?” said Nate, sharply. “Name one of these things.”

“For one, I’m chancellor,” she said, putting on socks. “I’ve got an image to cultivate.”

“And I’m a lowly Patrol Captain.”

“It’s not that,” she said, putting on her shoes. “It’s just that I need political advantage, and I can get that through a liaison….”

“You mean you’re going to try marrying another senator, after what happened with the last one?”

“Being available helps,” she said, finally turning to look at him. After some debate with herself, Mack had decided not to mention Komnenos’ proposal or Cindy’s matrices. “And I can’t be available if I have a boyfriend on the side. I’m sorry, Nate but it just didn’t fit. I’m being honest here.”

“I’m sorry too,” said Nate. “I thought things were working well, and we would last.”

“Well, they were going well. It was great fun.” She picked up her bag. “But I can’t help being insanely ambitious.” She smiled when she made that last statement. Nate did not smile back. “You’re a great guy, Nate. You’ll easily find someone else, and be really happy with that other person, and forget about me.”

“Despite being a difficult study.”

“You’re not at all,” she said. “Quite sweet, really.”

“Whatever,” said Nate. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“You too,” she said, smiling again, and was gone.

Down in the official capsule car she always took back to her residence on Monday mornings, Mack took out the tablet with briefings on her meetings for the day, then sat back and closed her eyes. What had she done?

“Chancellor?” said Cindy over the car speaker. She always checked in at the start of Mack’s day.

“Well, I did it. Are you happy now?”

“Ended the relationship with Captain Olsen?” said Cindy.

“Yes. I didn’t want to, and wasn’t going to, but somehow it slipped out. He shouldn’t have asked when we could meet again. Then I would have just called during the week like I always do, and we would have agreed on him coming over. Being with him was easy, simple, undemanding.”

“Now it’s over, you are free to accept Senator Komnenos’ proposal,” said Cindy. “My matrices show that with the additional influence, you have a much better chance of persuading the senate to stop obstructing reforms and improve its oversight of government operations. Damage to relationships will also be minimal. Captain Olsen will find a partner soon enough and forget about you.”

“I don’t want Nate to forget about me, or our good times, and I feel really terrible about the whole thing,” said Mack. “Are you sure this is going to work out?”

“I’ve run it all through the relationship matrices, with alternate scenarios and even done stress testing with extreme inputs. The change worked out every time. What could possibly go wrong?”

 

Nate walked to patrol headquarters in none too good a mood. He had not realised how much the chancellor had grown on him until she suddenly vanished from his life. But he also knew that it was a bad move to try to get her back. Chasing after her would make Mack all the more determined to get rid of him. She would come back of her own accord or not at all.

The patrol captain was still thinking those gloomy thoughts when he walked into Patrol HQ reception to be greeted by the synthetic who presided over the desk for most of the day.

“They are waiting for you in the boardroom, Captain Olsen,” she said.

“Who is waiting in the boardroom? I don’t have any appointment booked.”

“I was just told to send you to the boardroom when you came in. I don’t know who is there.”

Nate’s visitors proved to be the academic Dr Josephine Caspigny, who wanted to negotiate peace with the Morlocks, and a Cactuar called Tamar, who stared at everything with bug-eyed fascination. Being inside a human building was a novel experience for the creature.

“This is Tamar,” said Jo, who had been annoying Nate for months now over her request to be allowed to meet with the Morlocks well outside the city. “He is an elder and wants to discuss the blood promise his people are prepared to make to guarantee my safety.”

Nate thought that he was not in the mood for yet another argument with Dr Caspigny. He had already wasted too much time with the woman. He was in the mood to shut her down for good.

“I’ve met Tamar, and he isn’t an elder,” said Nate. “You mean he’s representing the Elders.”

“No, he’s an elder.”

“He’s representing the elders. I know the elders mostly, and he’s not one of them. They probably chose him to represent them because they’d then be able to disown the man’s actions when your party disappears.”

“The blood contract is still binding,” snapped Jo, folding her arms.

“Of course it is,” said Nate. “The problem is, as we’ve discussed before, that we’d be the ones to enforce it, and we’d never do it. Patrol’s not going to grab Cactuar at random and kill them. Whoever did the killing would go to prison. In any case, they’ve probably made a deal where the number of their people they have to give up is reduced by twenty for every human they deliver. A blood contract is one for one. They’d come out ahead.”

“Nonsense,” snapped Jo.

Nate spoke in his halting Cactuar to Tamar. “By how many will the glorious sacrifice count be reduced for each human delivered?”

Obviously startled at being addressed in his own language, Tamar hesitated, then gave the Cactuar equivalent of a shrug. The human obviously knew. His answer translated as fifteen.

“There you go, one human is worth fifteen Cactuar in the blood sacrifice stakes,” said Nate.

Jo knew enough Cactuar to understand the number fifteen, but being an academic, she was not about to acknowledge reality, particularly when it conflicted with her wet dream of becoming the great peacemaker. Even just to make contact with the Morlock hierarchy would ensure her fame, and perhaps her fortune through book deals, or at least as much as that was possible in the limited market of Rasand. Instead, she got angry.

“Isn’t that just typical of Patrol Command?” she spat.

“You mean in pointing out that your guarantee is meaningless, and the Cactuar have a hidden agenda?”

“In blocking attempts to start a constructive dialogue. We need to establish a dialogue with the Morlocks to provide a basis for a negotiated peace, and you want to keep this war going only to justify your existence.”

Nate was not about to get angry in response, but he did think that the colonel had made him the front man in this issue in order to absorb these sorts of criticisms.

“Spare us the motherhood crap, Jo,” he said. “I read that article you wrote about silly, obstructive Patrol Command blocking your efforts at peace making. Thanks for that. But the grim reality is that the Cactuar are obviously just stringing you along, hoping you’d be stupid enough to go to this meeting. You’ve also shown no real indication that you would be able to talk to the queen we’ve encountered.”

“Queen?” she said.

“Sure, as in the statement we released that went into some detail about our findings, incomplete as they are. About the Morlock who talks.”

Jo looked blank. She obviously had no idea what Nate was talking about, but she had a ready answer.

“I don’t read statements from biased, incompetent authorities trying to justify their existence.”

Nate sighed. “Jo, this is hardly helpful. The last group to decide that Patrol command did not know what it was talking about was a guard detachment, which was nearly wiped out as a result. As I’ve said before, if it were up to me, I’d let you go, but your disappearance would make us look bad, and we’d have to make some effort to get you back. Pass. That ends the matter. Don’t bother Patrol Command or me about this, again, unless you have something a great deal better to show us than Tamar here.”

Nate spoke to the Cactuar. “Humans are crazy.”

Tamar shrugged again.

“What did you say to him?” asked Jo.

“If you know so much more than we do about the Cactuar and Morlocks,” said Nate, “work it out for yourself. That ends the meeting. I have stuff to do. Remember to hand your visitor passes back at reception.”

Nate hoped that would settle the matter. How wrong he was.

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

Mack’s friends were as surprised as Nate had been by the sudden breakup.

“I thought you and he worked well together,” said Marta when Nate spoke to her by phone at the end of the workday.

“I thought you didn’t like him much,” said Mack.

“He considers me opinionated and too ready to share my views. I think he’s too abrupt in rejecting those views, but I don’t hold anything against him. He also doesn’t take any of your shit, but I noticed that he’s way more diplomatic with you. He seemed to care about you.”

“Don’t tell me that!” said Mack, sitting sideways in her chair behind the big chancellor’s desk in her office. The office had been cleaned up after the coup attempts, and the doors had been fixed, but it all still strongly reminded Mack of that day when she had relied on Nate, and he had delivered. “Now I really feel like a mean, heartless bitch.”

“It was your choice,” said Marta. “But you’re listening to an AI for relationship advice and want to turn romance to your political advantage. Breaking a few relationship eggs to get political omelettes is inevitable. For what it’s worth, I thought far more of Nate than I thought of your ex-husband.”

“At least Nate was right about one thing: you are too ready to share your opinions,” said Mack.

 

Weeks passed without much happening either in Rasand City or out on patrol. As Colonel Griggs was the only one in Patrol Command who had known about Nate’s connection to the chancellor, beyond serving as her personal bodyguard, no one else mentioned the matter to him. That suited Nate fine.

The colonel’s only comment was that she had hoped to use the relationship as leverage in budget negotiations.

“Now that it’s over, I have to stand in line with everyone else,” she told Nate when they were discussing forthcoming patrols in her office.

“I’m sorry my personal affairs have not met your expectations,” said Nate. He supposed it was too much to hope for a bit of sympathy in the matter.

“Hey, I wasn’t dating her,” said the colonel, “and I didn’t break up with her. I was just hoping to use the connection.”

A week after that, Nate was invited to an engagement reception for Mack and Senator Theodore Komnenos.”

“That was fast,” he thought. Nate deliberately did not look for any information on the senator. It was now no business of his what Mack did with herself, and he had no interest in politics. In any case, he was still sore over being dumped so abruptly by someone he had grown to care about. He was going to send in apologies, but Colonel Griggs stopped him.

“Mack says she wants to see you there,” she said. “She wants to know that there are no hard feelings.”

“Can’t I show a lack of hard feelings by not showing up?”

“You can help patrol by meeting Senator Komnenos. He has real pull in the Senate committees. Senator Berensina will also be there.”

“I have no wish to meet him, either. If you recall, we have history.”

“I remember very well that you were engaged to his daughter. Your former relationships should make the meeting interesting.”

“Painful, you mean. I’d prefer not to go.”

“Don’t be silly. Turn up in your best uniform – it’s a reception, remember – swallow a few tasty snacks, drink some wine to ease the pain, and then slide away. Just don’t speak to the senators after you’ve had a few. Gladhand first, then empty glasses.”

“Drinking is the only part of the evening that makes any sense,” said Nate.

 

On the appointed night, Nate arrived at Government House in his dress uniform, determined to put in the minimum time required. That would include a brief word with Mack, being sighted by the Colonel, and maybe nodding at Berensina. As the event was being held in the building’s grand reception room, which he remembered from his stint as bodyguard to, not to mention lover of, the chancellor, he thought he knew the best exit for sliding away, never to return.

The event proved to be a distinguished one, filled with uniforms, dress suits, and evening gowns. But the obvious star of the evening was Mack in a white, strapless evening dress, hair up, with white shoes and elegant pearl earrings to match. Nate had not fully realised just how beautiful she was until that moment. Then she noticed him across the room and smiled, and the room fell away.

But next to her, of course, was a tall, handsome man, with a few touches of grey in his dark hair, exuding authority while wearing a tuxedo with effortless grace. That had to be Senator Komnenos. As Mack had seen him, Nate thought he would get the worst over with first and went over to her. Just as he approached, another lady came up to congratulate Mack on her engagement, leaving Senator Komnenos to eye him.

“I didn’t know any of the patrol officers were invited,” said Komnenos.

“You mean apart from Colonel Griggs?” said Nate. “Don’t worry, Senator, I won’t track any sand on the carpet. As it happens, the Chancellor and I had quite an adventure out in the desert, avoiding being murdered by a guard officer and friends, and I was her bodyguard for a time.”

“Oh, right, you must be Captain Olsen, said the Senator. “Mack has spoken of you. That was a strange incident.”

“Even stranger if you had to live through it. It was fun blowing up bits of Government House, but a lot less fun being chased by the security droids.”

The senator “humphed” over that, then said, “Patrol seems to be a necessary evil, but why can’t it just be part of the guard?”

“The one time that the guard tried to do what we did, senator, if you will recall recent history, the result was a disaster. The guard detachment was all but wiped out, and the one person to emerge with any credit from the affair, Guardswoman Crystal, was sacked by General Isle for daring to survive.”

“To hear the guard tell it, patrol let them down,” said Komnenos.

“Isle was grasping at any straw to divert blame from the disaster he organised, with the major in charge ignoring all patrol advice, and breaking several major rules we patrol by, including staying too long in one place. I went to rescue the survivors after I found several guard rings in the Cactuar market, and despite Isle refusing to believe his detachment was in trouble. Senator, if you want more disasters, then hand us over to the guard. They have a different method of operation and have proved extremely reluctant to adapt to the requirements of combating swarms of Morlocks in the desert.”

“Humph, well, perhaps a closer look at the facts will show something different.” Komnenos did not like being bested in an argument, but it was the only response he could think of.

“A closer look at the facts will confirm what I say, Senator,” said Nate, who saw that Mack had gotten rid of the other lady and was bearing down on them. “Now, Senator, I think I’ve taken up far too much of your valuable time, so I won’t tell you about Senators also being a necessary evil and instead compliment your fiancée.” He turned to Mack. “You look fabulous, Chancellor. Truly stunning.” Mack beamed. “And congratulations on your engagement. I hope you’ll be very happy.”

“Thank you, Nate,” she said. “How have you been. I haven’t spoken to you in such a long time.”

“A conversation for another time,” Nate said lightly. “You’re busy.” Two couples, probably senators and their partners, had arrived on the scene to congratulate Mack and Komnenos. “Your fiancé would not want you diverted from more important conversations by a lowly patrol captain.”

“I never said ‘lowly,’” said Komnenos.

As Mack and Komnenos then had to speak to their distinguished guests, Nate was able to slip away. But before he could get very far, he was ambushed by Senator Berensina. Nate thought he had yet to be even offered a drink.

“When I mentioned your name to my wife, she reminded me of the circumstances when I saw you last,” said Berensina.

“All ancient history, Senator,” said Nate. “I’ve put the matter behind me. I understand you’re a grandfather now. Congratulations. Please convey my best wishes to Gisele.”

“It is a pity I had to send you away, but you just weren’t suitable for Gisele.”

“As I said, Senator, I have no wish to discuss the matter,” said Nate, sharply. “But, for the record, Senator, it wasn’t you that sent me away, but Gisele. She was the one who told me to go. But you know my real regret about that incident?”

“What?”

“That I didn’t knock you down when you offered me money. It was bad enough that you thought my family was somehow inferior to yours…”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“… but that you thought you could just buy me off with a few credits. I was so angry over that.”

“I just thought I’d defray a few expenses to show there were no hard feelings,” said the senator.

“Best if we don’t mention that incident ever again, Senator,” said Nate sharply. “My temper is getting shorter as I get older, and I wouldn’t want to get into trouble for assaulting a senior politician. If you want to request another officer to represent patrol on that spaceport committee, feel free. It would be one less source of aggravation for me. Take care.”

Nate stalked off before Berensina had a chance to say that wouldn’t be necessary. He nodded at Colonel Griggs, who was deep in conversation with a guard colonel, and slipped out of the exit without being offered any of the snacks or drinks he had been promised. Nate did not care. He took the monorail – Rasand was a compact, built-up city with monorails running everywhere – and walked to his house, only to find a capsule car in the narrow lane outside his front door, along with three people standing at the entrance. These were the beautiful synth Olivia in a silvery-grey club outfit, a tall, handsome dude in a black suit holding a towel to one eye, and a red-haired girl in tight-fitting jeans and a crop top who Nate was sure he’d seen somewhere before.

“Hello,” said Nate as he walked up. “To what do I owe this honour?”

“Oh, Nate,” said Olivia, who put away the phone-assistant unit she had been about to use. “I was hoping to find you at home. We were close, and my friend developed a problem with his eye.”

“I’m not a doctor… Ohhh! This is your synth friend.”

“Yes, this is Jason. You helped get him out of jail, you remember?”

“Sure,” said Nate. “But you know, as I explained the time you were here,” (Olivia had visited one weekend when Mack had stayed over), “I’m not licensed to work on synthetics, just droids.”

“Well, I was hoping you could take a quick look. The show starts soon, and if it's something simple…”

Nate sighed. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.

“Come into the workshop,” he said, punching in the passcode for his living quarters. Once inside, he punched in another code for the door to his workshop, which took up all of the ground floor.

Inside the compact workshop were three non-operational droids on stretchers, awaiting Nate’s attention, and a workbench crowded with the various tools of the trade. Oscar, the house droid whom Nate had rescued from the scrap heap, was in his usual chair. He reactivated and stood up when the door opened.

“You remember Oscar,” said Nate.

“Greetings,” said Oscar. “The weather is fine as it always is.”

“I certainly remember Oscar,” said Olivia, “and this is Miranda.” She gestured at the red-haired girl.

“Right, hi!” said Nate. “How do you know Olivia?”

As he spoke, Nate got out a scanning unit and gestured at Jason to sit on the stool.

“I perform in the club next to hers, and we just got talking.”

Now Nate remembered where he had seen Miranda before.

“Right, I caught your act with the pole once – entertaining stuff.” In fact, Miranda had stripped during the act, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Diplomatically put,” said Miranda, smiling. “Are you always this polite?”

“Nope, just ask Olivia. She’s heard about my dark side. The eye is driving you crazy, right?” The last question was directed at Jason, who nodded. “Take the towel away.” He did so to reveal a red, inflamed, weeping eye.” Nate began scanning.

“I see you’re in your nice uniform,” said Olivia.

“I was just at the reception for Mack’s engagement.”

“Of course,” she said. “I should have remembered that. Mack was hoping you’d be there. I’m really sorry that you two broke up. I told Mack she shouldn’t listen to Cindy with her relationship decision making matrices.”

“So that was it,” said Nate, still scanning. “She was letting Cindy tell her what to do. Mack told me it was about politics.”

“That too,” said Olivia. “She was always this really ambitious person. I told her it would be like her ex-husband all over again, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Well, if she feels that way, maybe it was for the best. Anyway, I was sufficiently cut up about being dumped to stay away, but my colonel virtually ordered me to go.” Miranda giggled. “You didn’t rate an invitation? Bit difficult having you there, I guess.”

“To a formal reception, yes. Mack apologised a lot and said she would make it up to me somehow, but I also didn’t get to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. I would have liked that. I didn’t even get to go to the wedding.”

“Shame, but there was plenty of horror for me at that reception. I got ambushed by the father of my former fiancée of some years ago.”

“The one who tried to buy you off? Mack told me something about it.”

“He insisted on telling me yet again, how I just hadn’t been good enough for his daughter – um – I think I know what the problem is. The fluid in the eye socket has become infected. There’s a virus that likes the stuff. Same thing can happen with droids. It’s fairly simple to fix. I just drain the socket, clean it, and replace the fluid. I have to take you to my clean room, which is that door there,” Nate pointed at a door in the back wall of the workshop, “and put on the clean suit I use for droid work, but it doesn’t take long.”

Nate went to work, and about ten minutes later, Jason walked out with his eye working properly, although still looking worse for wear.

“Couldn’t fix the eye completely on the spot,” said Nate. “I don’t know much about the synth-skin, but my understanding is that, like human skin, the discolouring fades. For the moment, I suggest some makeup, or maybe an eye patch.”

“We can work with this,” said Olivia, “looking closely at the eye. “And we can just make it. How much do we owe you?”

“That’s okay. If I’m not paid, that avoids some trouble if the licensing bodies ever find out about this. Just call it a favour. You owe me one, and no, I’m not talking about sex.”

Olivia smiled in a way that lit up the night.

“I hope I can do you a favour one time, Nate,” she said. “Maybe you can come to the show for free. Let me know.”

“One thing – how did you get the infection in the first place, Jason? Have you been having any work done on that eye?”

“Got an upgrade done, off the books,” said Jason, moving his eye around experimentally.

“Whoever it was probably wasn’t using a clean room. Stay away from them,” said Nate.

“Okay, useful tip,” said Olivia. “Thanks, a heap, Nate. This saves us a lot of time and questions. Miranda, let’s go.”

“Be there in a moment, Ol,” said Miranda. She approached Nate.

The patrol officer thought she was pretty, albeit more interesting than beautiful. However, her body was to die for.

“You seem real sweet,” she said, handing him a card. “If you want to meet me tonight, be at the stage door at one AM, when I get off. Just show that to the guy at the door, and you can take me to supper and show me your house. It looks kinda interesting.”

“Ooookay,” said Nate. This turn of events was puzzling, he thought, but could lead to good things.

“I’ve never had much to do with older guys like you,” she said.

“Older?” said Nate, who was still in his twenties.

“I’m nineteen,” she said. “To me, you seem ancient. Hope to see you then.”

“Sure,” said Nate.

“The uniform is nice,” she said, flicking Nate’s label. “But change into something more casual. A jacket with an open neck shirt. Bye!”

She left with a wave, leaving Nate holding the card, still somewhat bewildered by the turn of events. He shook himself and put the card away. Why not go to the club stage door at one AM? It was not as if he had anyone to answer to.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

When Mack called Marta a couple of days after the reception, it was not to discuss the event or her fiancé’s speech at it – that had all been successful – but to complain about Nate.

“He’s replaced me with a red-haired, teenage stripper!” she said.

“That’s a surprising choice for him,” said Marta. “But it’s a good thing that he’s moved on, especially as you’ve gotten engaged.”

“Well, sure, but a red-haired stripper, and it wasn’t his idea! This girl brazenly asked him out and then all but dragged him into bed after that first date.”

“She was making the choices, and Nate’s a guy,” said Marta. “He’s not going to turn down an opportunity, especially since his ex has gotten engaged. How do you know all this anyway?”

That involved explanations about how Nate had met Miranda the stripper, and how Miranda had told Olivia what had happened, who had then told Mack.

“Nate made himself useful to your friend,” said Marta, eventually. “That’s good, but I still don’t see the problem. You’re engaged to this good-looking, distinguished, successful Senator. The engagement reception was a major social event, and Nate made an effort to turn up. I saw him speaking to you and you smiling, so he must have said the right things.”

“He did, although he only went because his colonel ordered him to go and didn’t stay very long. I wanted to talk to him.”

“Anyway, he was there and said the right things,” said Marta. “But I didn’t see him after that, and I also wanted to speak to him about the city.”

Mack then told her how Nate had been ambushed by Senator Berensina.

“No wonder Nate didn’t hang around,” said Marta. “But then why worry if a horny harlot of a teenage stripper throws herself at him? What business is it of yours now anyway?”

“It wasn’t supposed to work out like that,” said Mack. “Cindy told me that he’d meet someone mature and professional and be much better off with her rather than with high-profile me. Instead, he’s taken up with a teenage piece who’s already got a conviction for theft.”

“Wait, how did you know she had a conviction?” said Marta. “Did you check if she had a police file?”

“Olivia mentioned it. I’m just looking out for Nate. I really miss him.”

“You should be looking out for your fiancé, not the ex-boyfriend you dumped without warning, and you shouldn’t be missing Nate. That’s not how an engagement works.”

“So, Cindy has been telling me,” said Mack. “I'm beginning to dislike her relationship decision making matrices. Theo doesn’t need me, but someone has to look out for Nate. Why couldn’t he at least have chosen a lawyer or a professor of the arts or something?”

“Maybe if the professor of arts takes up stripping,” said Marta, rolling her eyes and deciding that Mack was not going to be reasonable about the matter. “Speaking of the arts, you know they’re offering doctoral fellowships for research into the city? The pictures you took and the report I’ve written have sparked a lot of interest. You said you could explain the images on the temple walls with reference to those nightmare texts Nate sent you. An application for a PhD fellowship for research along those lines would be almost guaranteed acceptance.”

“If I wanted to give up being chancellor and live like a student again.”

“You always talked about it. I’m just pointing to the opportunity. In the meantime, you should stop wasting time checking on Nate and concentrate on your fiancé instead. Nate’s a big boy and can look after himself.”

“I suppose,” said Mack.

 

Colonel Grigg also wanted to kick around the events of the engagement reception, but from a very different perspective.

“I don’t know what you said to Senator Komnenos, but he seems to have dropped this wretched idea of making us subordinate to the guard.”

“He happened to mention the matter to me, and I told him how the guard had engineered a royal disaster. He seems to have taken my points to heart.”

“Good! See, you did the patrol a favour in turning up. Although you didn’t hang around, I note.”

Nate told her about meeting Berensina.

“Poor lamb! But it’s a pity he scared you off. I could have used you when I spoke to Senator Komnenos about that academic who wants to bring about peace with the Morlocks.”

Nate groaned. “Dr Jo is still causing trouble, but one good thing came out of that last conversation I had with her. You remember she brought along a Cactuar called Tamar?”

“I remember you saying, yes.”

“Later, I saw him in the market and thought to ask him if they knew what happened to the individuals who participated in the glorious sacrifice.”

“No one’s ever gotten an answer on that,” said Grigg.

“Tamar said they were taken to the breeding chamber and fed into some sort of acidic sludge that dissolves the bodies, eventually.”

“Ick,” said Colonel Grigg. “They’re still alive for a time?”

“And screaming. He also said the breeding chamber with these food vats is where we think it is – under the city ruin.”

“Now that is interesting,” said Grigg. “Did you get anything else out of him?”

“He clammed up after that and sidled away. He thought he’d said too much, I guess.”

“No matter,” said Grigg. “It’s more than many of the academics, including this idiotic Dr Jo, have been able to find out. Senator Komnenos said he thought she had a chance and wanted patrol simply to let her through the East Gate. I said I didn’t want to risk the lives of good people getting that lunatic back. I hope that kills the matter. Now, about the patrol schedules.”

 

Nate saw Miranda several times over the next two weeks, with her always nominating the time and place, and occasionally posing odd questions about his work.

“You guys are armed on patrol,” she said, “but I never see you with a pistol, and there aren’t any weapons in your place.”

“We’re not police,” he replied, puzzled by the question. “We’re issued weapons when we go out and hand everything back in when we return. That stuff is kept under lock and key in patrol headquarters.”

“Being allowed to use pistols is so cool.” Cool was her favourite word.

“Not when a host of Morlocks is bearing down on you. Then it’s something you gotta do. Nothing cool about it.”

Another time, she asked to see his workshop, which required him to go downstairs and punch in a passcode for the second door. He did this while she clung to his arm, saying how “cool” it all was. She met Oscar, whom she also declared to be “cool”. Maybe it was all cool as she said, but something about her behaviour made Nate change the passcode to the workshop. A few days later, when he came home early after a long patrol, he heard music playing upstairs, and the small, sliding panel protecting the entrance keypad for the workshop had been pushed up. Nate was sure he had left it down.

He went upstairs to find a pretty, ash-blonde girl in a white crop top and torn pants watching a drama series on his entertainment unit. He could hear muffled grunts and moans from the bedroom. The girl looked up in surprise.

“Oh, hi, you must be Nate,” she said, smiling.

“That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Monique. I’m with Miranda. She’s in there with her boyfriend.” Monique gestured at the door. “She said you didn’t mind if you were out on patrol – it's so cool that you get to travel outside the city like that.”

“It’s less cool when you have to fight Morlocks,” said Nate. “As it happens, I do mind. Miranda never asked, and I never gave her access codes.”

“Oh!” said the girl.

“Turn off the show and get your stuff. The party’s over.”

Nate walked to the bedroom door, passing close to Monique. He stopped for a moment to look at her eyes.

“You’re a Synth,” he said.

“Well, yes,” said Monique, taking a step back. “I work with Olivia, who says she knows you. Is it a problem that I’m a synth?”

“I know Olivia, and I don’t care that you’re a synth. I care that Miranda is banging her boyfriend in my bed.”

He threw the door open, giving the couple inside a split-second to register that he was there before he grabbed the lanky youth on top of Miranda around the arm, close to the shoulder, and pulled with all the might of his legs and upper body. The youth smashed against one wall, breaking a picture hanging there and knocking photographs off a dresser, then fell to the ground stark naked.

“Oh, Nate!” said Miranda, gathering sheets around herself. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Clearly,” said Nate.

“What’s your problem, man?” said the youth, picking himself up from the floor. “Miranda said you’d be down with this.”

“She lied to you,” said Nate. “And put something on. You don’t want me throwing you out naked.”

He turned to Miranda.

“You must have worked out my passcode.”

She shrugged.

“I see you also tried to get into the workshop downstairs. I change the code for that door regularly. What were you hoping to do down there?”

Miranda shrugged again. “It just seemed cool - those droids you’re working on, and that droid assistant unit you have.”

“Whatever,” said Nate. “I’ll change the passcode for here. Don’t come back.”

“You’re too old for me, anyway,” said Miranda, pouting.

“Then you should be happy you won’t be coming back,” said Nate. “Okay, everyone, get dressed and grab your stuff, and make sure it’s your stuff and not my stuff. Let’s roll.”

In a few minutes, Nate mustered his three unwanted guests in the living room and, after checking that they did not have any of his belongings, herded them down the stairs and out into the street. Miranda and her boyfriend stalked off, without looking back, but Monique hung back.

“Sorry about that, but I just didn’t know,” she said.

“I’m not blaming you,” said Nate. Good looking synth blondes who had just been following others got a pass as far as he was concerned. “Miranda seems to have lied a lot.”

“Yes, lied,” she said. “Synths have trouble lying, and I want to know more about humans.” She handed him a card with her name and number on it. “Call me if you want to help me find out about humans.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” asked Nate.

“No, at least no one really in my life, but I get lots of offers.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Nate. He put the card in his pocket.

“Hope to see you soon,” she said, smiling, as she walked away.

Nate thought that she might hear from him. He was a guy. But first, he had to change the passcode to the main house and put his bedroom to rights, which included changing the sheets on the bed. He had finished all of that, with some help from Oscar, finally taken off his boots, and collapsed on the bed when the phone rang. It was Colonel Grigg.

“That academic Jo managed to get out of the city,” she said. “Mack’s fiancé, Senator Komnenos, gave them access to one of those side gates, bypassing us, and her group has already disappeared.”

Nate groaned. He knew what was coming.

 

When Mack found out what her fiancé had done, she called him.

“Theo, what were you thinking? Everyone agreed that Jo would just end up as a Morlock meal.”

“Seemed worth the risk,” said Komnenos, unabashed. “If she manages to pull off peace negotiations, it would be a major coup. If not, it's just a few academics, and it was their choice to go. I’m not about stopping people from making choices.”

“The problem is we have to try to get them back,” said Mack, “and that puts many more lives at risk.”

“Just order patrol not to try,” said Komnenos, again apparently unperturbed by the group’s disappearance, or that his decision to let them use the gate had probably doomed the whole group.

“You know we can’t do that,” retorted Mack and hung up. “Cindy, you’re listening?”

“Always,” said Cindy.

“This engagement isn’t going to work. I can’t believe that Theo would do that. When everything settles down, I’m breaking it off with him.”

“But wait, the relationship decision making matrices show you’ll have huge trouble in the Senate.”

“Oh, hang your relationship decision making matrices. I’m going to dump Theo, and then I’m going to beg Nate to take me back. I didn’t realise just how much I liked him until I left. He’s got this weird taste in music and argues back, but he’s also sweet and interesting, and we have fun together, and I really miss him. Now he’ll probably have to risk his life because my fiancé screwed up.”

“He’s with this stripper you spoke of,” said Cindy, who wasn’t quite sure what a stripper did. At least she had plenty of information on what they did, but it did not make sense to her.

“That’s true.”

“And you’re going to face enormous trouble in the senate.”

“I have a way around that,” said Mack. “One that solves all difficulties, at least as far as I’m concerned.”

“Oh?” said Cindy, “and what’s that?”

 

Wrapped in some sort of cocoon, Dr Josephine Caspigny was being carried along a tunnel. The moment she had approached the entrance to the cave complex at the place they called Bandour, the Cactuar who had escorted her there vanished, and a horde of Morlocks had appeared. Her party had been seized and wrapped in soft material, like a thick but light wool blanket, which stank. She had trouble breathing. Pleas to be taken to the elders and protests that they were a diplomatic mission fell on deaf ears. Instead, the Morlocks slung the cocoons onto poles, at least from the little she could see out one end of her cocoon, lifted the poles onto their bodies, and started marching fast. They were in a tunnel, she thought, and travelling at a great pace. Perhaps when they got to their destination, Jo thought, the Morlock elders would apologise for this behaviour.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

Nate knew what he would be asked to do the moment he got the call from Colonel Grigg, but there were practical difficulties.

“We think the snatched party is likely to be kept alive and moved through the tunnels at some speed to the ruined city,” said Nate. He was sitting in The Patrol’s conference room with Colonel Grigg, her second in command, Major Gorrin, the buffoonish Captain Jason Boulcott, and Guard Colonel Alfred Montigny, who was continuing the grand Guard tradition of arrogance and contempt for everyone else, including members of Patrol Command.

“You think?” exclaimed Colonel Montigny. “You’ll have to do better than think, Captain.”

“All you’ll get is think, colonel,” snapped Nate. “We didn’t even know that much until a few days ago. We weren’t even aware of the ruined city until a few months ago. Research into Morlocks as a species has been all but impossible for various reasons. Before recent breakthroughs, we wouldn’t have even considered trying to get this lunatic party of academics back. We wouldn’t have known where they were likely to be taken.”

“Captain Olsen is right, colonel,” said Grigg. “We only realised that the breeding chambers and food vats for the species must be under this city a few weeks ago, after years of searching. Even then, we can only guess at the process or the exact room they’ll be taken to. We’ve been monitoring the city and dropping drones into the tunnels, but we only have partial plans.”

Colonel Montigny sighed theatrically. “Well, if patrol command can’t work things out, Guard will just have to step up and clear out this nest. Tell us where this breeding chamber is supposed to be and we’ll fix it.”

“You’ll do no such thing, colonel,” snapped Grigg. “That guard detachment was all but wiped out just metres from where the rescue party has to go, because the major in command distained our advice. The chancellor, after reviewing the evidence from the disaster, has decreed that all forays into the desert must be under patrol command. She has also directed you to allocate guard personnel to groups under our officers. That’s why you’re here. You’re not here to take over the mission.”

“But I can’t ask our officers to act under patrol directives,” spluttered Montigny. “That’s absurd. We’re the city’s fighters, and we’ve got the firepower to prove it.”

“Then don’t give us any officers, sir,” said Nate. “I’m the one who has to take the lead group in, yes?” He looked at the colonel, who nodded. “And I can’t operate if I’ve got a guard officer who knows nothing about this sort of fighting trying to give orders and take over command. I have room for two. Give us two guardsmen or women with some of this firepower you’re talking about, but not flame throwers.”

“Why not flame throwers?” said Montigny, exasperated. “They’d be one of the best weapons against these hordes.”

“Been over this,” said Major Gorrin, an experienced patrol officer in his day. “What happens is that the Morlocks catch fire nicely and keep right on coming. You get a heap of moving torches trying to break into your position. We use fire grenades that spread around a sort of napalm, but only if we know that the Morlocks can’t get at us straight away. Fire works then.”

“Oh, very well,” muttered Montigny.

They settled on the details. Nate would lead the first party, which would airlift in using the big, seldom used Hydrogen-filled airship to drop the five-man group on top of the temple’s prayer tower. The airship made some noise, but not nearly as much as a helicopter. As it would be just dawn, with the streets and the temple deserted, the Morlocks did not bother with sentries; it was hoped that the creatures would not realise the human group was there for a time. Nate’s party would also have silencers on their pistols, which was a first for any patrol group. Once down, the group would hide somewhere in the complex. Nate could see a couple of possibilities from the partial plans, but he would have to make a choice on the spot.

Then the real fun began. While Nate and Co were finding a place to hide and avoiding being slaughtered in the breeding chambers, a second, much larger group would airlift in, this time using the only two helicopters the city had. These had been brought all the way from Earth in the mothership, were under guard control, and used only for special occasions. Hopefully, the noise would attract the Morlock guards, who would then be too busy attacking that group, which would be equipped with all the latest guard gadgets, to notice Nate’s group trying to find the academics.

That was the hardest part of all. Nate was unsure exactly where Dr. Jo’s group would be taken or even when they would arrive in the city. They might be too late by hours (the most likely outcome), in which case they could grab what evidence they could that the group was dead (Nate didn’t know what that evidence would be) and run away. Or they might be too early, and waiting around near the breeding chambers and vats was not a good idea.

Once Nate’s part of the mission had been resolved, one way or another, his group had to cut their way through to the second group – somehow. As it would still be daylight, they could reach the surface and make a run for it, trusting that the guard's firepower would cut a path for them. With any luck, the choppers could refuel and return to drop explosives and pick up survivors. While all this was going on, two patrol carriers commanded by Major Gorrin would circle around the shade to also rescue any survivors or possibly avenge their deaths.

Nate thought that there were a lot of moving parts to the plan and that too much was being left to chance, but he could not see any other way, given the information available, of rescuing the academics. He was just drawing the equipment he could need from the guard armoury when Mack called.

“You’re going out on this really dangerous mission?” she said.

“Well, sure,” said Nate. “I can’t back out of it. Mind you, if we do find Dr Jo alive, I may kill her for putting me in this fix.”

“I’ll be really sorry if you don’t come back, and I’m sure your red-haired stripper will also be sorry.”

“You mean Miranda?” said Nate. “I just found her having sex with her boyfriend in my bed. I threw them out along with a blonde synth, who I think is also a stripper. I found her watching a drama series on my entertainment unit.”

“If it’s queued up on your unit, it was the series I was watching. Huh! Anyway, I thought you were Miranda’s boyfriend?”

“I had no real emotional investment in Miranda, but I was also unaware that there was anyone else in her life until this tawdry incident,” said Nate. “Now that I think about it, she may have just been staying over in order to case the place. They tried to get into the workshop downstairs.”

“That total slut.”

“You said it, not me,” said Nate. “Mind you, the incident wasn’t a complete loss as the synth gave me her card and said to call her.

“Another one, after what happened with the first.”

“I’m a guy, Mack. Such adventures are interesting, and, just to refresh your memory on recent events, I was seeing a really great, slightly older girl who cut my heart out by dumping me in favour of a distinguished politician. But I really should go. I’ve gotta work out how to avoid dying horribly in some Morlock hellhole.”

“Just before you go, and really quickly,” said Mack, “about that horrible girl who cut your heart out. I want to put a hypothetical to you.”

“Okay, real quick.”

“What say a powerful woman dumped her sweet boyfriend in order to gain political advantage and then decided that she had made a mistake?”

“I see.”

“If she begged to be taken back, would that boyfriend have her, do you think?”

“In this hypothetical, does the woman have a hot body?” asked Nate.

“Maybe.”

“Then most times all the woman would have to do is snap her fingers, and the guy would come running,” he said. “But if the guy was hurt by being dumped totally without warning, and unwillingly by that really great girl, he would insist on some begging, and that the woman swear off having her personal choices guided by relationship decision-making matrices.”

“That all seems fair,” said Mack. “The girl could be the object of a spanking as part of the begging process.”

“The guy could work with that, but in this hypothetical scenario, isn’t there supposed to be a fiancé somewhere?”

“There are details to attend to,” admitted Mack.

“This is a very interesting conversation,” said Nate, “and I really want to talk further about this hypothetical woman, but we’ll have to finish it another time, if there is another time.”

“I really want there to be another time,” said Mack. “I want you to come back and not call that blonde.”

“I really want to come back, and I’ll give you a chance to show me some reason why I shouldn’t call Monique. Gotta go.”

“Monique, seriously?” said Mack, but Nate had already hung up.

 

Nate met his team in the mustering dock of patrol headquarters. They would be taken by capsule car across the city, away from prying eyes in the Cactuar sector, to a tall building in the industrial sector where they could board the dirigible. As Nate had not flown anywhere before – there had been nowhere to go by plane – he was interested in that part of the mission at least.

“Volunteers only for this, guys,” he told his team. “You can back out now, and no one will think any the worse of you.”

To his relief, none of his team moved. These included the two he had chosen, Rachel Crystal and Tyler Green, who had both been to the city before and even survived massive assaults with Nate. He was confident about both. The two guardsmen, Michael and Andre, were fresh-faced but looked sturdy enough. More importantly, they toted weapons that resembled old-fashioned submachine guns, complete with massive magazines and a much larger barrel.

“Grenade launchers, sir,” said Michael. “Useful in clearing a path through hostiles.”

“Excellent,” said Nate. “But when we go in, shoulder them for now and use pistols with silencers. You got those?”

They yes sired.

“And head shots, remember it’s head shots. One shot, then move on. Rachel, congratulations, I understand your guy is making an honest woman out of you.”

“Yes, sir, just engaged.”

“I’ll really try to return you safely to your fiancé. In the meantime, you’ll want to leave your ring behind.”

“Oh, right, yes, sir, I forgot.” She took it off and put it in her locker, which was nearby.”

“Guards, I need you to follow my orders and not give me guard shit. This is the most dangerous thing that you’re ever going to do. Trust me. You’ll be a lot safer if you follow me and don’t try to make up your own orders.”

“Yes, sir,” they said, although noticeably less enthusiastic than last time.

“Revisiting old haunts, Tyler,” said Nate.

“But not ones with happy memories, sir,” the guardsman turned patrol officer said. “Do we have to bring along this big screen?” He had been given the job of toting a wire screen, big enough to fit across a standard Morlock tunnel, rather than the smaller ones they used for doorways and windows. This had been rolled up and strapped to his backpack, but it was an ungainly, heavy thing to cart around. Nate had the generator and fuel, and Rachel had the comms unit, which linked their headsets to HQ; however, that connection was unlikely to work when they were under a lot of stone. The guardsmen also carried fold-up stretchers with wheels, designed so that one person could pull along another relatively easily, at least on a flat surface. Nate would have liked to bring along a worker droid for grunt work like that, but did not have the space.

“Guys, this is going to be one you’ll tell your grandchildren about,” he said.

He did not add the phrase ‘if any of us survive’, but he thought it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

 

Nate decided that he did not like heights. At least, he did not like heights when he was at the end of a rope ladder dangling from an airship that he had to anchor to the top of the temple tower. As it was just after dawn, he could see how far down it was, which was way too far. With some effort, he concentrated on what was in front of him, the looming tower, which he was just about to collide with. Then he hit with a painful thud, but with one of the metal rungs of the ladder catching under a projection around the viewing platform. That left him dangling just short of two metres above the main platform. He let himself down to the last rung, to hang by one hand, before dropping.

“Okay, down,” he said into his comms headset. “I’ll tie it off. Send the others down.”

Nate raced up the tower stairs – the tower was a box-like two-storey structure built on top of the temple’s main observation platform. Marta thought it might have been used for rituals, but that had the scholastic status of a best guess. Thinking of Marta made Nate think of Mack, but he pushed such desirable thoughts resolutely to one side. First, he had to survive the day. He tied the ladder to one of the stone pillars supporting the roof, using an elastic cord with hooks on the end (which previous generations on Earth would have thought of as a bungee cord). The first down was Michael.

“Go down, grab the equipment bags,” These were to be dropped by rope onto the main platform from the airship, “and check the city to see if anything’s moving.”

After glancing at the solar panels, which had been placed inside the tower to avoid drawing Morlock attention, Michael raced down the stairs. He was followed by Andre, who went down to join Michael, and then Rachel, stepping slowly, eyes tightly closed. She squeaked when Nate grabbed her leg.

“Keep going, you’re doing well,” said Nate.

Rachel came down several more steps before Nate grabbed her around the waist and pulled her bodily into the tower. She opened her eyes to see the PV panels.

“What are these for?” she asked.

“They power the cameras we’ve got set up to watch around the city,” said Nate. “We had to put them inside the tower in case the Morlocks looked up and saw them. Get going, grab your gear, and call in what’s happened so far.”

Last was Tyler, who was stepping as slowly as Rachel. Nate dragged him onto the tower, and then they worked together to untie and unhook the airship. Once released, relieved of the weight of seven bodies, the airship shot out of sight.”

“Air, this is ground, you okay?” said Nate, over comms.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve just gotta bleed off a lot of gas,” said the pilot who had taken them in. “You guys take care in there.”

“We’re sure gunna try, and thanks for the ride.”

A few moments later, Nate’s team was assembled on the main platform with the equipment on their backs. Michael and Andre were in full guard gear. This included a tactical helmet with various aids, including a visor that could switch to light-enhanced and infrared modes. Nate wished that there had been time for the rest of the team to be trained on those helmets. Patrol Command was not equipped or trained to sneak around underground. It never previously had to. For the moment, the non-guard members of his team would have to make do with pocket infrared scanners given to them by the guard.

Michael reported that there was no apparent activity in the ruined city and no indication that the Morlocks were aware of their presence. So far, so good.

“From now on, we speak only in whispers and only if we have to,” said Nate. “If you have to go out into any dark place, check with infrared first. Gotit?”

They murmured assent.

“Let’s go, I lead.”

They went down several flights of stairs to the temple’s ground level. Nate sniffed. There was a distinct Morlock whiff in the air, but it did not seem fresh. He scanned with the infrared device. Nothing. He led the group to the entrance by the altar that Mack had found. The entrance was quite open. The many Morlocks that had died there, at Nate’s hand, had long been removed.

“You lead,” Nate said to Michael. “Switch to infrared.”

They went down the staircase - Rachel whispered a last update to control before they went underground – then around to the right. Nate put a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“I can smell them,” he whispered in the guardsman’s ear. “Hear that ‘gak, gak, gak’ sound?” Michael listened, then nodded. “There’s one in the next room. Let me check it out.”

The patrol officer peeked around the corner into the room with the wall art that had so intrigued Mack, then checked it on infrared. A single Morlock was moving around, apparently aimlessly. Nate was unsure what the Morlocks did below ground. His main concern before this had been to stay alive when the creatures decided to emerge. Was the creature there as some sort of sentry? If so, what was it guarding? Perhaps that was a question for another time.

Nate waited until the Morlock had its back to him, then stepped forward and put a bullet from his silenced pistol in the back of the creature’s head. He rushed forward to grab the falling body – Morlock flesh was slimy to the touch – then eased it to the floor, to avoid the noise of a body crashing to the ground. He listened for a moment, with an infrared device to his left eye. Nothing. He was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when another Morlock loomed out of the darkness. Its eyes widened with surprise when it saw the human. Nate shot it twice in the head before it could yell in alarm and grabbed that one too, easing the body to the floor.

“Get rid of the bodies?” whispered Michael, stepping into the chamber. There did not seem to be any more of the creatures close by.

“Nowhere to put them where they wouldn’t be found straight away,” Nate whispered back. “We’ll move on and hope our hosts are sufficiently confused by the second group to overlook two bodies in the wrong place.”

He peeked around the corner of the far door – the same place the Morlocks had come from when they rushed himself and Mack – to find the broad passageway beyond empty of the creatures. Nothing was coming from the other direction, which, Nate knew, led back to the ramp that he had used when he first came to the city, close to where Rachel and Tyler had hidden. He stepped out, and the others followed. As they crept down the passage, Nate could hear someone, or something, speaking in Cactuar. The voice was too low and far away from him to make out the words, but they seemed to have a rhythm, a chant of some kind. When did the Morlocks start using chants? Then Nate realised that the smell of Morlocks was becoming stronger.

 

As Nate’s group crept along the passageway, Mack entered the office of Senator Theodore Komnenos in the Rasand Senate building.

“Oh, hi, Madam Chancellor,” said the receptionist – a synth designed to look and act like a female receptionist, but who never left her chair. “The senator is with someone just now, and I don’t seem to have an appointment down for you.”

“I need just ten minutes,” said Mack, “and it's important, so I’ll wait.”

She hoped it would take just ten minutes.

“As it turns out,” said the synth, smiling, the Senator is free now. Go right in.”

That was good, thought Mack, she could get this over with straight away.

 

The glasses on Dr Josephine Caspigny’s nose had been awry for hours, but she had been unable to do anything about them. Her arms were firmly pinned by her side. She had long given up asking for help or for the Morlocks to tell her what was going on. The journey then came to an abrupt end. She was dropped on the ground, and the covering she had been wrapped in was torn away. Free of the foul smelling blanket, as she thought of the covering, Jo had time to straighten her glasses before being grabbed by two Morlocks and hustled along a stone platform. The light was dim, but she could just make out that the stone platform was in a cavernous underground space and seemed to end above a pool of green liquid of some kind. Another academic, Dr Paul Bayard, a cultural anthropologist who had been looking forward to studying the culture of the Morlocks, was ahead of her on the platform. He had been a major supporter of Jo during her battles with government officials, who, as they saw it, were intent on blocking the path to peace. Two Morlocks, short and squat for their species, dressed in robes and wearing headdresses that bore some resemblance to those worn by the priests of ancient Egypt, started stripping him. Two more of the Morlock priests appeared and started stripping her. Bayard started yelling. She started screaming.

 

Nate found the room he had been looking for – really just an enclosure off the main passageway, but there was nothing in it, and no other entrance. Once they were in and flattened against the far wall, the Morlocks would have to look inside the chamber to detect them. One problem was their smell, but the Morlock scent was so powerful that, Nate hoped, the odour of a few humans in a side room would hardly be noticed.

They stood there listening to the ‘plop’ of bare feet on stone and ‘gak, gak’ sound as Morlocks came and went along the passage. Then, about an hour into their silent vigil, the creatures started rushing down the passageway towards the temple. A lot of them. Somewhere, a powerful voice was braying, in Cactuar, “Expel the humans, how dare they invade our” … Nate did not catch the next word, but the one after was “grounds”.

“Guys,” Nate whispered into his headset, “second team has arrived. The Morlock guards have gone to fight them. Get ready.”

“How will we know what to look for or where to go?” asked Rachel.

“A very good question,” said Nate. “I wish I knew the answer. But silencers until I say otherwise, people. And keep to infrared.”

On the infrared scanner, he could see them all nodding.

The flood of Morlocks outside the room died away to a stream and then a trickle, then just the occasional straggler. Nate knew he had to go soon, but he just wished he knew which way to go. The maps derived from the drone scouts were incomplete, but they showed a maze of passages and rooms beyond their hideout. Stopping a Morlock to ask the way was not going to work.

Then, in the distance, Nate heard a woman screaming.

“Guys, it’s on, let’s go.”

They charged out of the room.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

The humans emerged from the room directly in front of two Morlocks, who started back in surprise. Nate put a shot through the forehead of each one.

“Helmet lights, guys,” he said. “But keep to silencers.”

The three from Patrol Command switched on their helmet lights, while the two guardsmen flipped up their visors. Then they all heard the screaming.

“To the left up there, maybe,” said Rachel, pointing. One of her jobs was to keep an eye on a map screen displaying the incomplete layout of Morlock Central, and hopefully, prevent them from getting lost in the maze. To help her in that job, she had brought along a marker pen to put arrows at each turn. The marks could be seen in infrared. Nate thought he should commend her for the initiative when they got back – if they got back.

They charged up the corridor. The screaming grew in volume. Then the yelling by one man turned into screams of pain.

 

Jo’s clothing and glasses had been torn from her. She stood completely naked, her arms held tight by two Morlock priests. Struggling was useless. Behind her, she could hear grad student Eloise screaming as she was also stripped. Before her, in the dim light mainly coming from the green pool before them, she could see that Dr Bayard, a fat man, had also been stripped and was being dragged towards the edge of the stone platform, shouting. Jo realised that they meant to throw her colleague into the pool, and her last, cherished delusions about the Morlocks fell away. She screamed louder.

 

The long passage followed by Nate’s group came to a dead end, with the screaming growing ever louder, and they had to backtrack to an entrance on their right. Fortunately, the Morlocks did not bother with doors. They emerged in a room with what looked to be control panels along one wall. The panels did not appear to be working, but two of the Morlock priests whom Jo had encountered were standing before the panels, heads bowed as if in prayer. They did not move or turn around when the humans came into the room, so Nate’s group ignored them. Instead, they made for an entrance on the left where a human was screaming in agony.

Through that entrance was another passage, and a little to the right, they found a heap of blanket-like material and a tangle of poles and ropes before an entrance that was much larger than usual and was in the shape of a pointed arch. A processional entrance? It also seemed to glow a greenish hue. Through that entrance, they found a long, stone platform—a roadway leading to a pool that emitted the greenish light. On it were two naked women struggling between pairs of Morlock priests and screaming. Another pair of priests stood on the lip of the platform, looking down at the water where a human male was screaming, but in agony. They seemed to be grinning in delight. The first pair of those priests had time to look around before Nate shot one in the head, and Tyler shot the other. The second pair looked around and opened their mouths only to be also silenced forever, albeit with Tyler taking two shots to finish off his Morlock. Then Nate realised that the second woman was Jo, but he had no time to even glance at her nakedness.

“Jo, get dressed!” he snapped.

At the sound of his voice, the final two priests, who had been staring with glee into the pool, whirled around and charged. Nate brought his pistol up and fired, only for the weapon to click empty. What? How did that happen? Had he seriously forgotten to check the magazines on his pistols before he went in? And the flap on his other holster was still buttoned up! Only one thing for it. Nate dropped his pistol, letting it swing from a lanyard – both pistols were tied to his belt for just such an emergency - and drew his sword, slashing the charging Morlock priest across its throat, as he backed away. Then he brought the sword’s tip up under the jaw of the still charging creature, letting its own momentum push the sword upwards into its brain. The light went out of the Morlock’s eyes. Nate pushed the creature back and then kicked it, jerking his sword free. The now seemingly shapeless lump of flesh teetered on the brink of the platform for a moment before falling into the pool. Then Nate saw the academic.

Dr Bayard was writhing in extreme agony, screaming, as flesh literally melted from his bones. Transfixed in horror, Nate thought he saw a section of the academic’s skull. He heard a yell behind him, to see another, larger Morlock priest charging down the processional way, directly at him. Both Tyler and Rachel fired at the newcomer, only to miss, their bullets flying off into the void. Then the creature was almost on him, arms outstretched, still screaming. Nate side stepped and whipped his sword across the Morlock’s right eye, blinding it. The creature screamed, then skidded to stop before it went over the edge and whirled around. Nate had never known Morlocks to be agile before. Usually, they just kept coming until they were killed. These creatures with the funny headgear, as Nate thought of their head coverings, were of a different type and cast. This time, Nate tried to take out his second pistol, only for the creature to be on him in a split second, before he could bring his pistol up, grabbing him around the waist, pinning his arms, and turning to throw him into the pool!

Nate at least had his pistol in his left hand, albeit pointing down. He fired twice, one of the bullets hitting the creature in the lower body and making it let go before completing the turn. Nate dropped heavily to the platform, far too close to the edge for comfort, and hastily rolled away as both Tyler and Rachel fired, making the creature scream, but it did not fall to the ground. It sank on one leg. Nate drew his legs back, then kicked, and the creature fell over the edge, falling into the fluid with a huge splash. Nate hurriedly rolled away – he didn’t want any of that stuff on him and stood up.

“Thanks, guys,” he said to the others. Then he saw Jo, one hand around her breasts and another at her crotch to hide her nakedness, staring in horror at her colleague, still screaming in agony in the pool.

“Can’t you help him?” she sobbed.

“He’s too far away,” said Nate. The threshing and writhing of the academic in his agony had carried him well away from the end of the platform. Nate thought, but did not add, that they wouldn’t be able to do much for the academic, even if they could fish him out of what was some form of strong acid. They didn’t even have any water to wash the liquid off him. He brandished his second pistol.

“There is only one thing to do.”

Jo sobbed, then nodded, in tears. Nate glanced at Eloise, who had come up to stare in horror at Dr Bayard. She was also stark naked, but instead of trying to cover herself, had clasped both hands to her mouth. She caught Nate’s eye and also nodded. Nate whirled, brought his pistol up, and fired twice. The screaming stopped. What was left of Bayard sank out of sight, still dissolving.

“Jo, get dressed. You, too,” he pointed at Eloise. Even at that moment, he could not help noticing that Jo’s figure was excellent while Eloise’s was dumpy. “Rachel, help them find their clothes.”

He spared one more glance for the green pool of horror – there did not seem to be anything else in the chamber – and walked back to the entrance. He found Michael and Andre with two more of the priests lying dead at their feet. They were the ones they had passed to get to the processional way.

“Good work,” he said. “But where did that other, big one come from. I thought I was done for.”

“There’s a side room here,” said Tyler, pointing just to the right of the processional way.

Sure enough, there was a small room that none of them had noticed with more of the dead control electronics. That last priest, by far the largest of them all, must have been lost in prayer in the room until Nate spoke on the processional way. Perhaps the race had regressed to the point where they believed the long-dead equipment could be controlled by prayer? It was a thought.

Nate spared a few seconds to take pictures in the control point and a few more in the first control room they had encountered, then returned to the processional way to find the two ladies putting on their shoes.

“Guys, let’s roll,” he said. “That was the easy part.”

“Jesus wept,” said Michael.

“We’re still gotta get back to Rasand in one piece.”

With the two civilians in the middle, the guardsmen at the end, and the patrol officers in front, they retraced their steps. Despite the noise they had been making and the killing of individuals they assumed were priests, they still did not see any Morlocks until they reached the passageway that led past the art room under the temple. There, Nate could smell Morlocks. He made the group switch off their lamps in favour of infrared scanners. He peeked around the corner and then hurriedly drew back as two worker Morlocks charged up.

Fortunately, both creatures passed the corridor without glancing in, but then went into the art room. After checking the passage again, Nate’s group followed them but stopped at the doorway. The place stank of Morlock.

“Sir, we’ve got bogie in the distance at the rear and closing,” said Andre, over the comms link. The guardsmen had their infrared scanners on.

“Up and to the right,” said Rachel. “There’s a room we can duck into. Won’t be any through traffic.”

“Let’s do it,” said Nate.

They charged on, moved inside the room, and hid as they had done earlier, listening to Morlocks waddle past their hiding place, saying ‘gak, gak, gak’. They could also hear the occasional shots from the temple where the second party was holed up and, hopefully, holding out well. Then, behind them, they heard a ‘thud’ of something heavy being dropped, displacing a puff of air. As one, they whirled to see, on the infrared scans, the outline of a human body. Followed by another, and another, the last one sliding off the top to settle on the floor.

“Wait, guys,” whispered Nate over the comms link. “There are still Morlocks up there.”

He realised as he spoke that they were underneath the room with the wells that he had visited on his first day in the ruins. Worker Morlocks were dropping recently killed humans down the well for others to take to the dissolving pool they had just discovered. After a minute or so, he allowed them to move forward and switched on his lamp.

“Aw shit!” said Michael. “They’re guard.”

Nate then knew they weren’t about to be rescued by the second party.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

While Nate’s group stared in horror at the pile of bodies, the one on the top twitched.

“Still alive?” said Tyler.

They pulled the guardsman off the pile and checked what they could, including his pulse.

“Yep, still with us, just really chewed up,” said Tyler.

They checked the other bodies to find one more still clinging to life.

“Okay, guardsman, looks like we’ve found a use for those fold-up stretchers you’ve been toting,” said Nate. “It doesn’t help our chances any, but we can’t leave them. Clean ‘em up as best you can and give ‘em the injection against Morlock infection and stick them on the stretchers. I’m going to see what’s happening with the second party.”

To judge by the noise from the Temple, the second party was still holding out. Nate pulled Rachel to one side.

“I need comms and a guide. That ramp you hid close to during your stay here, that’s near here, right?”

She nodded. “Couple of minutes.”

“Guardsman, we’ll be gone a few minutes. Tyler’s calling the shots. No messing around.”

Michael and Andre, busy with their comrades, nodded. Michael thought to grab the names of the guardsmen, dead and alive, then ducked out of the room. They had to hide again on their way to the ramp, but eventually, Nate was able to crouch on the ramp and poke his head out above ground. Despite the bright sunshine that made him put on the sunglasses he always carried, he could see Morlocks around the Temple, noticeably in the shade cast by the buttresses, and more spilling out of the doors. Nate suspected that the Temple itself was packed with the creatures and that there was no way his group was going to cut their way through to the second team. To judge from the sounds of shots and the activity he could see in the prayer tower where they had initially come in, that group was still holding out. Time to call in.

“Jason, it’s Nate, do you copy?”

That got Captain Jason Boulcott’s attention.

“Nate, you’re out again?” he said over the link. Boulcott’s usual buffoonishness was gone. Out in the field, Nate had to admit, Jason knew what he was doing.

“Yep, and we’ve got two of the party – Dr Caspigny and Eloise Doukas – but not Dr Bayard, he’d been dropped into a pool of what we think was acid before we got there.”

“Acid, far out.”

“But Jase, what the fuck, we were hiding in that room below the wells on the Northeast corner, and three bodies of guardsmen were dropped behind us.”

“I just couldn’t stop them,” said Jason. “One of them started yelling about marine traditions and how they were fighters, and then they charged down the stairs. I’ve still got two, but only because the guard non-com stayed put and tackled another. We heard them firing for a time, then nothing.”

“We managed to pull two out of the pile alive, but only just.”

“This is control. We need the names of the two guardsmen.” Control back in Rasand City had been listening all along.

“Control, this is Olsen, hold on. Jase, we won't be able to cut our way through to you, especially not with two guys on stretchers.”

“No, you won’t,” said Jason.

“We’re going to have to do Plan B, ten clicks to station five.”

Rachel looked at him in alarm. She had been in Patrol long enough to know what that meant. Station five was where Nate and the disgraced Dan had been ambushed.

“Using the Morlock tunnels?” said Jason. “Oh man! If you meet any big groups coming the other way, you’re screwed.”

“Can’t see any other way. The good news from your point of view is that after an hour or so, there won’t be any need to hold that tower. Have the choppers come and take you off.”

“You bet, and good luck,” said Jason.

“We’ll need it,” said Nate. “Control, Patrol Officer Crystal will tell you the names of the two survivors.”

Nate switched off his comms, screening out Rachel, while he studied the temple. Although it was still daylight, Morlocks had been able to climb almost to roof level. Jason’s group had to get out of there before nightfall. In fact, he did not think they should stay more than the allotted hour. Then he was aware of Rachel tugging his arm.

“Colonel Montigny wants to talk to you.”

He switched his comms back on.

“You’ve got two of my guys,” the colonel said, “and I’m going to have to can this mad plan of yours to use the Morlock tunnels.”

“Colonel, I thought it was made clear to you that this venture was under Patrol jurisdiction,” snapped Nate. “I don’t take orders from you. If you want me to follow an order, put Colonel Griggs on and butt out.”

The colonel was not about to be told to butt out by a mere Patrol captain.

“You can’t drag my guys through tunnels,” he snapped in his turn. “We can send choppers to pick you up. Just get above ground in the daylight.”

“Where we’ll be swarmed, Colonel, like your guys just were. The Morlocks prefer to move at night, but they will move during the day and at high speed. A bunch of slow-moving humans with stretchers will really incentivise them. The choppers don’t have any fire support, right?”

“We can put a few marines in.”

“Do that for pick up at station five. That’s the closest place we know of where there is a connection to the surface. There must be others, but we don’t know where they are, and we can’t waste time looking for them.”

“What happens if you meet a large group underground?” said Colonel Montigny.

“Then we’re toast, colonel,” said Nate, “but from what we’ve seen, we’ll most likely meet them in ones or twos and deal with them with silenced pistols.”

“Most likely!” said the Colonel. “Captain, I order you to abandon that approach.”

“Take care, Colonel, and can someone please ensure that Colonel Griggs understands the plan. Over and out.”

Nate turned to Rachel. “We’ve got a cross-country jaunt to finish before returning you to your fiancé.”

Back in Rasand City, Cindy was still trying to understand Mack’s strategy.

“Now that you have broken off the engagement with Senator Komnenos, managing the senate will be very difficult,” she told Mack during a break in the morning’s meetings.

“Yes, things will be much more difficult if I am still around,” said Mack cheerfully. Colonel Griggs had just texted her that Nate had made contact, having rescued two of the three lost academics. His group was still in deadly danger, but they had what Griggs thought was a viable plan to get out. Mack was sorry for Dr Bayard and his family, but at least he could attend the memorial service and say that her administration had done everything possible to rescue the man. In the meantime, Mack was putting her own escape plan into effect.

“What do you mean?” said Cindy.

“I mean that I’m resigning,” said Mack. “We’ll work out when the deputy chancellor will take over. Then he can deal with the Senate, and he’s already married.”

The deputy chancellor had been changed since the attempted coup, and Mack had considerably more faith in the new VC, who was also an ambitious man. He could try being chancellor for a time and see how he liked it.

“You can’t resign and leave me with him?”

“I’m most certainly allowed to,” said Mack, “and I’m going to. You can try out your relationship decision making matrices on someone else.”

“But what are you to do?” asked Cindy, apparently bewildered. The matrices did not account for the possibility that the subject might simply leave the field.

“I’m going to become an academic. I’ve already started writing my PhD grant proposal. I believe I can offer real insight into the wall art in that temple and what it means for the Morlock-Cactuar religion. A real breakthrough. This way, I can still be ambitious, although in academia rather than politics, and my work might even make a difference, and I can get back with the boyfriend I want without my government rank causing any problems. I also never have to hear about relationship decision making matrices again.”

“Captain Olsen might not come back, and there’s still the problem of him taking you back. The matrices indicate…”

“Hang the matrices,” snapped Mack. “I said I didn’t want to hear about them ever again, and I meant it. In fact, I’ve already spoken with Captain Olsen, and he has proved surprisingly sweet about the whole thing. The red haired stripper is also history. I just have to run interference on a blonde synth, do some heavy duty apologising, for which I have plans, and I’m back where I was, but this time we won’t be spending so much time apart.”

“I still think the relationship matrices can be made to work,” muttered Cindy.

 

When Nate and Rachel returned to the others, killing a Morlock on the way with a single, silenced shot, he found that the stretchers, once unfolded, had three small wheels – two at the lower end and one at the head, which was raised. A person could pull each stretcher along with one hand, provided the stretcher was on reasonably level, flat ground. That meant the group was able to move along the city passages, pulling the stretchers with comparatively little effort. Rachel led them past the place where she and Tyler had hidden for days to a place where the passages connected to a Morlock tunnel. They shot one Morlock they encountered and hid in a side passage from a large group that rushed straight past them; otherwise, they had little trouble in reaching the junction.

“You can see where they’ve broken through,” Rachel said, pointing to the rubble and broken stone blocks. “It all looks to be deliberate.”

“You’re right,” said Nate. “They tunnelled in and excavated the sand that must have been in here. Then the sands above naturally shifted away. Interesting, but one for the scientists.”

They lifted the stretchers through to the Morlock tunnel, which was round and much smaller than the city passage but still smooth enough to roll the stretchers along. The material that made up the tunnels was a dull grey. The top half was as hard as concrete, Nate noted, but the bottom part was surprisingly spongy. Now was not the time to admire the engineering, he told himself. They marched on as quickly as their rescued civilians could stand, Nate keeping his head lamp on low beam so that they could see.

“Sir,” whispered Michael into his comms unit from the front, where he’d set his drop-down visor to light amplification to spot Morlocks. “What are the little holes I keep seeing in the roof?”

“Ventilation shafts, at a guess,” said Nate.

“Are all Morlock tunnels like this?”

“Never been in one before. None of the serving patrol officers have. But to judge from the tunnel scans, this is a smaller one – some sort of linking tunnel, maybe.”

The others tried to speak, but Nate closed down any discussion. They needed to save their breath for fast walking. Eventually, they came to a junction where the smaller tunnel they had been using joined with a much larger one at an angle.

“This is close,” said Rachel excitedly, looking at her map screen. “This must be a major thoroughfare. The tunnel to Station Five is a smaller one on the right ahead.”

“How much further?” asked Jo, obviously weary.

“Still a few klicks,” said Rachel.

Nate waved Jo into silence. Something about the tunnel made him uneasy. A change in atmosphere? A low, dull humming, almost too low to hear. He put his hand on the hard sides of the tunnel, while the others watched in surprise, then put his ear against the material.

“What the…,” said Andre.

Nate gestured at him impatiently to be silent. He looked again at the map screen.

“This tunnel we’re in must lead right back to the rear of the breeding areas, and that green pool thing?”

“Seems so, although we don’t have any connection mapped,” said Rachel.

“Guys, I reckon that a big party of Morlocks is coming up that way. Maybe they’ve discovered that we’ve killed a heap of their priests, somehow worked out where we were going, and they’re pissed. Let’s move.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

 

Nate’s warning made his party pick up the pace to somewhere between a fast walk and a trot. But the uneasiness Nate had been feeling seemed to grow. He asked the others if they could hear or feel anything, but they shook their heads.

“It’s all weird shit down here,” said Michael. “Sooner we’re out, the better.”

Nate’s uneasiness continued to grow – a sort of shadow in the back of his mind.

“Sir, we’ve got a big group in front, coming up fast,” said Andre. “One hundred plus individuals.”

“We’ve just got to blast our way through,” said Nate. “The marines get to use their toys, but wait until they’re close and give ‘em a few rounds each. The rest of us will follow, head-shooting any survivors. We don’t stop to assess damage. We keep going.”

“At last!” said Michael.

They all heard the group in front of them, making the characteristic “Gak! Gak!” sounds, before the creatures loomed out of the gloom. Then, Michael and Andre started firing, the explosions lighting up the tunnel and throwing Morlock parts around. The three patrol members followed, pulling the stretchers, skirting around the bodies, and shooting the occasional survivor who dared to bother them.

When the shooting stopped, the sound from behind them was distinctly louder.

“Nate, I hear something,” said Rachel. “A long way away but gaining.”

“How far to the branch tunnel?”

“Should be a few more minutes on the right. Station five is about a klick from the junction.”

So it proved, with the branch tunnel a little larger than the one in which they had started the journey. They lifted the stretchers through.

“Tyler, drop the grid you’ve been carrying here. This is the best place we’re going to get to use it.”

“Finally!” Tyler shrugged it off, and Nate started fixing it across the tunnel entrance.

“Tyler and Rachel, push the stretchers to the exit. Tyler, you boost Rachel through to the top so she can call in the choppers we’ve been promised. The Morlocks' carved hand and foot holds onto the sides of the shaft. I saw them when I was there last time, now move.”

They yes sired, and left Nate with the two guardsmen, who kept an eye out both ways as he continued to work. The grid did not reach all the way from the top to the bottom of the tunnel, but it covered enough to give anyone who came that way pause for thought.

“Sir, it seems like a real big group coming up from the city. I can hear something.”

“A huge mass of them is charging along the tunnel,” said Nate. “Your big guns may delay them, but not for long. Get back on this side of the wire. I have to finish fixing it on the other side. They squeezed under the wire, and Nate secured it in place by attaching two steel hooks and riveting the hooks to the side of the tunnel. He attached the generator and switched it on. The generator emitted carbon monoxide, but Nate thought that monoxide poisoning was the least of his problems.

“Bit of speed, guys,” he said, and they jogged the rest of the way, arriving at the hole underneath the floor of station five to see a hint of daylight. On the surface, it was only about lunchtime, but there were still six metres of concrete between Nate’s group and that sun-lit surface. Tyler was waiting for them with the two stretchers.

“Rachel says she’s called it in, and the choppers are on the way,” he said. “But how are we going to get the two wounded up?”

“I’ve had thoughts about that,” said Nate. “Wind the upper stands of the head of the stretchers as far as they will go and put them back to back.”

He then cut out the straps securing the patients and used one set to bind the two ends of the stretchers together. He grabbed the spare magazines from the pouches of the wounded, took out the first few bullets, and then rammed the emptied end into the bottom of the tunnel in front of the stretcher’s wheels, hammering the magazine in with one of the guardsman’s heavy weapons.

“We should have a ladder. In the meantime, this ‘ll have to do.”

With the rest of the straps, Nate devised a crude sling to tie around the wounded. But they still had to manhandle each one up to Michael, the biggest of them all, while he balanced on the top of the stretchers, one hand in one of the Morlock handholds in the concrete. Then he hoisted the still unconscious marine up into the hole, Nate and Tyler doing their best to push up from below, while keeping the two stretchers together. Andre, who had gone ahead, then reached down as far as he could to grab the makeshift sling around each guardsman and haul him the rest of the way, with Rachel’s assistance.

They were partway through this delicate, exhausting process when they heard a tremendous, drawn-out shriek from the tunnel.

“What was that?” said Michael.

“They’ve got to the grid we left there, and don’t like it,” said Nate.

“Will it hold them?” asked Tyler.

“Should, but there also should be someone at the grid to stop them doing stuff like putting wooden hooks around the wire to pull it out. It’s why the gaps in the wire are so large, so we can shoot through them. Come to think of it, you’ve defended wire grids.”

“I have,” said Tyler. “I also remember that they were persistent bastards that night.”

“They still are persistent bastards,” said Nate.

They were just hauling the second wounded man through, with some effort, when they heard a grinding of metal under stress and then a scream of triumph.

“That’s done it, they’ve dragged away the wire somehow,” said Nate. “I think we’ve really pissed them off.”

“Shit,” said Tyler.

“Rachel,” yelled Nate. “When you’ve finished with that guy, go and guard that hole just outside the door.”

“Okay.”

Finally, the second wounded guardsman was swung out onto the floor of the station.

“Tyler, go, go, I’m right behind you,” said Nate, as he felt the wind from the approaching Morlocks. Tyler climbed onto the stretchers and then hauled himself up, but very hesitantly. “Guys, grab him when you can, and drop us one of the heavy toys.”

Michael dropped his past Tyler, and Nate turned to fire several shots down the tunnel, lighting the place up and blowing apart the front ranks of a solid mass of Morlocks. The creatures had to stop for a few seconds to clear away the bodies, then, with Tyler being dragged the last couple of meters, Nate was ready to go.

He fired off more rounds, then slung the weapon and stepped up on the stretchers to grab the first of the handholds. The stretchers collapsed underneath him, meaning that he had to bodily swing himself up just with his arms before getting one foot in one of the niches carved by the Morlocks. He had his other foot in another niche when it was grabbed by a Morlock hand. Nate braced his back against the side of the tunnel, whipped out his pistol - this time, he’d left the flap unbuttoned – and fired twice at the creature’s arm. The Morlock fell away. He dropped the pistol, letting it swing by its lanyard, to manage another two steps before a second Morlock grabbed his foot. He picked up his pistol again and shot the creature through the arm. This time, the creature’s arm broke off entirely, with the hand remaining attached to Nate’s leg as he scrambled out of the hole.

“Grenades, grenades,” he said, and Marines obligingly dropped several.

He rolled away, ripped the detached Morlock hand off his leg, and threw it into the hole.

A familiar voice boomed from below in Cactuar. “Patrol, you there?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Shouted Nate in that language.

“We will come tonight, and you will make the glorious sacrifice in our pool.”

“Still waiting,” he said.

He stood up, aware that the others were staring at him.

“You speak that language,” said Michael.

“Cactuar. I think that was the Morlock Queen. We’ve exchanged taunts before.”

“What did she say?” asked Tyler.

“A host is going to come tonight and make us go swimming in her pool.”

“Tonight?” said Rachel from the doorway.

“Yep. She doesn’t realise we’re taking a chopper ride out of here. Patrol hasn’t used helicopters for years. She probably knows where the two Patrol carriers coming from Rasand are, and knows they can’t get to us before nightfall. But all we’ve gotta do is wait for our ride. Michael and Andre, I’ll send a commendation on your performance to your colonel. Rachel and Tyler, I’ll do the same for Colonel Grigg.”

Only one helicopter arrived, but it proved big enough to take them all, plus a couple of additional marines toting fierce-looking mini-guns. As they all boarded the craft, loading the wounded, Nate thought he heard someone groaning, from underground, “nooooo”.

There was one more thing to do.

“Dr Jo,” said Nate, as he went to his seat.

“Yes,” said Jo, hesitantly.

“You’re a total idiot.

Nate fell asleep on the ride home.

 

While Nate and his team were waiting to be picked up by helicopter, Chancellor Mackenzie Markovic was packing up her desk.

“You’re seriously going to resign?” asked Cindy.

“You’ve already agreed to the handover. As was agreed, I will officially step down next week, but will be in caretaker mode until then. In the meantime, the chancellor-elect will be neck deep in meetings, working on ensuring he is ratified and, oh yes, deciding what he’ll do about corruption. Good luck to him, I say.”

“I thought the resignation was just a ploy,” said Cindy. “The decision making matrices…”

“Cindy, I thought I’d made myself clear,” snapped Mack. “Mention those matrices to me again and I’ll turn off the speaker.”

“Okay, but won’t I speak to you after you leave office?”

Mack thought that Cindy sounded almost plaintive.

“Of course, you can call me at any reasonable time, but I warn you, my life will be moving far away from any decision matrix. I think I’m going to add a baby or two to my life goals – assuming that they are also part of Nate’s life goals.”

“Babies?” said Cindy, puzzled. “You mean reproduce?” She made it sound like a bizarre ritual conducted by remote tribes on earth.

“Yep. It’s the human thing to do.”

“You’ll be on a doctoral student’s stipend with nowhere to live, now that you’re moving out of the residence. My understanding is that money and housing are important in such matters.”

“Your understanding is correct, and I’m working on those points,” said Mack cheerfully. “I have considerable savings from my salary as chancellor. As for a place to live, I have an idea about how to get rent free accommodation.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

When Nate finally got back to his house, after one of the most stressful work days ever, he looked briefly in his workshop to find that a couple more droids had been left there. Clients with a pass code could open a bay in the alley on the other side of the house and push the bodies in for repair. He would look at them tomorrow. The colonel had given all those involved in the rescue a few days off. He went upstairs expecting to collapse in front of the entertainment unit for an hour or two before dinner, to find an enormous black bag in his living room, with several smaller bags piled next to it.

He also found Oscar and the cleaning unit vacuuming the floor behind the sideboard, having pulled that piece of furniture out.

“Why are you doing that, and why the bags?”

By way of answer, Oscar pointed at the bedroom door, which was ajar. He opened it to find Her Excellency Chancellor Mackenzie Markovic sitting up in his bed and, apart from a sheet she held around her, stark naked. She had put aside the book on art history she had been reading along with her reading glasses, and was smiling at Nate.

“You never changed my pass code, and I thought you might prefer this way of my begging to be taken back,” she said.

“I admit, this approach has its attractions,” said Nate. He sat on the edge of the bed close to the soft delights of her body and kissed her gently on her shoulder. She gasped and smiled. “I could throw in some begging for forgiveness as well, if you want.” Her breath was soft on his face.

“I’m warming up to this approach,” said Nate, then drew back. “But before we get into the make-up phase of this, whatever this is, I have a question or two.”

“Ooookay.” Mack sat up and curled her legs underneath her.

“The engagement with Senator Komnenos was announced just weeks after you left me.”

“Well… yes.”

“How much was going on before you left?”

“We’d had dinner twice, for work, when you were out on patrol, but nothing happened.”

“For work?”

“We both had busy schedules. It was convenient to have dinner in the residence, although maybe he got the wrong idea.”

“You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend at the time?”

“Well, no, that would have led to a lot of questions. No one knew about you, and I wanted to keep it that way.”

“I was too shameful a connection?”

“It wasn’t that. It was just that I needed allies, so maybe I strung him along a little. Then Theo asked me to marry him. It took me totally by surprise, as nothing had happened. Then Cindy told me that those relationship matrices of hers showed that everything would work out in the end, and you’d be far happier with someone else.”

“I see.”

“All the political groupies wanted him, and I’d won him without even trying. I was really flattered. He was also handsome and distinguished, which I thought was my type.”

“As opposed to a dowdy, lowly patrol captain?”

“You are not dowdy, Captain Olsen, and you were known to be the best at what you do even before today. Now Colonel Griggs tells me you’ve become a legend.”

“I have?” Nate had not thought of himself as a legend, and then realised it was a bad idea to think that. If he got the idea that he knew what he was doing, he might make a mistake and find himself in that green pool of horror. “Well, this legend still has a question or two. When the Senator proposed, you still didn’t mention there was someone else.”

“Well, no,” admitted Mack. “I said I’d have to think about it. That was not my finest moment, I admit. But, as I said, I needed allies, and Cindy was saying that her matrices showed it would all work out. I think, now that I look back on it, Theo considered the engagement to be some sort of transaction, although he could make a convincing case for his feelings.”

“Okay, so you abruptly left me and allowed yourself to be courted by Komnenos?”

“Well, yes, but nothing happened before that.”

“I believe that part,” said Nate. “If you recall, I made a serious attempt to seduce you before we got together, and you resisted me.”

Mack gasped. “You did too, even though you knew I was married, you louse.”

“You were giving off signals,” said Nate, and kissed her.

“Louse,” she said, smiling, after he drew back, “and you almost got me too.”

“Did I?”

“Uh-huh. A couple of kisses on the shoulder and neck like you gave me just now, and we’d have had a real political scandal on our hands.”

“As it is, I now trust your assurances that you waited until you dumped me. But isn’t this leading up to another political scandal – you throwing Komnenos over, I assume he is history – in favour of a humble patrol captain?”

“You assume correctly, and I’ve side-stepped the political part by resigning as Chancellor.”

Nate drew back, surprised. “You’re no longer chancellor?”

“I officially step down next week and will become a humble doctoral student with, I hope, a sweet, impressive patrol captain boyfriend with whom I will be sharing a residence on the edge of the Cactuar sector.”

“This is why there is a lot of luggage in the living room.”

Mack nodded. “And we have to have a discussion about closet space.”

“All the details,” said Nate, smiling. “But isn’t my humble abode a come down after the official residence?”

“For an academic specialising in Cactuar-Morlock studies, it's perfect,” said Mack. “It's on the edge of the Cactuar sector. I can go to the market and speak to them like you do.”

“You’re going to learn?”

“Uh-huh,” said Mack. “Try to, anyway. I’ve been studying those texts you sent me, and I think I have some real insights to offer.”

“Maybe further details can wait,” said Mack, moving in to kiss her.

“One moment, Captain Olsen,” she said, putting out her free hand to stop him. The other hand was holding the bed sheet in place. “There is one detail I want attended to now.”

“What’s that?”

“You mentioned that the blond synth gave you a card. I want to see it.” She held out her hand, palm up.

Nate had the card in his wallet, which he had retrieved from his locker at headquarters. He handed it to Mack, who had put her reading glasses back on.

“This is it,” she said. “Monique, how tacky! You were keeping it handy, I see.”

“A guy has to be prepared.”

She used both hands to rip up the card, letting the sheet fall away from her body so that she sat there, entirely naked. “Waste basket, please.”

Nate got the bedroom’s waste basket, and Mack dropped the bits of card in it. She took off her reading glasses again.

“I’m now at your disposal, Captain Olsen,” she said, unbuttoning his shirt. “If you want me to do anything special for you, just ask.”