Chains of Freedom (23 page)

"I have always been partial to RJ, myself," Poley said.

"You know, my metal-bodied friend, I sometimes wonder if I didn't make you too human!" He sat down and put a finger to his mouth."So, J-6 had a lover." He moved his finger from his mouth. "And RJ killed him to make a political statement. Allowing them irrational thought; that was my first mistake. I could have altered their minds, but at the time it just seemed like too much bother. Now, I'm beginning to think it would have been well worth the effort. RJ running around in her suicidal revolution. J-6 going after RJ. It's all madness. Madness, I tell you. I don't have the strength, the determination, or the bloody time to run up another batch. I'm an old man, Poley. An old and very tired man. One of them must live. Unfortunately, that means—I hate to say it—that the other must die. Poley, I want you to find out everything you can about both RJ and J-6. I want to know which has the greater chance of survival."

Stewart knew his decision must be based on facts. He had never been political, and now was not the time to start.

Jessica looked over graphs and charts on her computer screen. General Right stood attentively at her shoulder, although she clicked through them too fast for him to actually see anything.

"There is no apparent method to her madness." He grabbed her hand, gently stalling her rapid progress on a map of the zone. He pointed to the red marks on the map to further explain his meaning. "She steals a load of supplies . . . tents, K-rations, clothing, etc. . . . here. Three weeks later, she steals a shipment of projectile weapons here—clear across the zone. A week later she steals a load of medical supplies just an hour's drive away. A month later, they're back across the country, stealing a load of our new laser sidearms. Two weeks later, and halfway across the country, they steal yet another load of supplies. Two days after that, they're two hundred miles away, stealing a load of plasma blasters. Then yesterday they steal—are you ready for this?—boots! That makes no sense at all. Obviously, these raids are made at random, and without any prior study of the contents. Yet they have not stumbled upon a single one of the convoys harboring a GSH. They must just have the most incredible luck."

"It has very little to do with luck," Jessica said shortly. She had done everything in her power to make RJ's life difficult. She'd doubled the number of GSHs accompanying the convoys. She'd set up random roadblocks. She'd scrambled the shipments and changed shipping routes.

Nothing.

RJ was outwitting her. She didn't know how, but it was obvious that RJ had an edge. Jessica was not as blind to the obvious as Right seemed to be.

"There is most definitely a method to her 'madness' as you call it. An army doesn't just need weapons. It needs food, clothing and shelter. And yes, even boots. She's collecting the provisions for an army." She looked carefully at the map. "These raids are anything but random. How can we prepare any real defense if we don't know when or where she will strike next? RJ is preparing her army to march, and so far our attempts to stop her have been ludicrous."

"There is no reason to believe that she is doing anymore than stealing the supplies. There is no sign of any sort of a rebellion, much less one on that scale. In fact except for RJ, there is no sign of an organized rabble anywhere."

"What about Alsterase?"

"What about it? The entire population of Alsterase couldn't use one sixteenth of the pilfered supplies. Besides, there is nothing to suggest that there has been any kind of uprising in Alsterase," Right explained.

Jessica was silent for a moment. Then she spoke her thoughts aloud."RJ's got an army. Somewhere. At least, she knows where to get one. I've got to believe that, or nothing she has done makes any sense." She contemplated the ceiling for a moment. "And I believe that she never does anything that doesn't make perfect sense. What I don't understand is how she's missing the GSHs."

"Well, she must just have the most incredible luck," Right suggested a second time.

"There is no such thing as luck in matters of war," Jessica snapped back. "Somehow she
knows
."

"Impossible. She would have to have a box." Right assured her.

Jessica's head snapped up. Her eyes had a carnivorous shine to them. "What did you say?" Her quiet voice made Right's skin crawl.

"I said she would have to have a box." Right's voice was a little more choked than he would have liked, but at least he had been able to fight the impulse to cringe.

"Of course!" Jessica slammed her fist into her palm. "That's it! That's the answer. She's been sitting with a box, carefully picking and choosing which cargoes she wants and which ones are safe."

Right looked at her and shook his head sadly. The whole thing had finally gotten to her. Her cable had snapped. "She couldn't have a box. All of the boxes are accounted for," he said carefully.

"Not Jack's." She got up and started pacing, picturing the whole event as it must have happened. "She got it from Jack." No longer a hunch, she now knew her statement was true.

"But they found Jack's box with him," Right reminded her.

"No! They found
a
box with him." Jessica sat down on the edge of her desk and looked at Right. "You can bet that no one checked to make sure that it was his box—a
real
box. RJ threw a plasma bomb into the armor-plated limo and closed the door. Everything inside would have been covered with a thick, bloody, pulpy coat of what had once been men."

Right swallowed hard.

"Can you see
anyone
digging through that to make sure of anything? If they saw a part of what could have been his box, that would have been all the confirmation they needed." Jessica's features turned into a mask of white-hot anger, cool, but deadly. "That's why she did it. So that no one would notice, so that no one would look. She didn't kill Jack to make any sort of grand point; she just wanted the box. All along, she only wanted the box. It didn't matter who she got it from. She killed Jack to cover up the theft of the box." She looked out her office window and smiled a sadistic smile. "So, RJ, you're using the box," Jessica looked at Right. "Anything that can be pushed can be pulled. I think it's time we did some pulling, Right ."

Levits hadn't found Alsterase very hospitable. He had no money and no skills with which to barter. There wasn't a hell of a lot of call for a starship pilot in Alsterase. He wound up with a job gutting fish, which gave him just enough money to eat on, and more or less guaranteed that he wouldn't be eating what he could afford . . . fish!

Most nights he found a corner in some abandoned ruin and tried to sleep. Whether he actually ever did, he wasn't quite sure. He knew he sometimes approached something very near sleep, but when he did he had the nightmare. After he had the nightmare he didn't want to even try to sleep.

He'd lost at least twenty pounds, and he'd been wrestling with a cold for two weeks.

He had just enough money in his pocket for one half-assed meal, and payday wasn't for two more days. To make matters worse, it was raining. A cold rain.

Things couldn't possibly get any worse.

As he reached this point in his reflections, he realized that a big, burly, rough-looking fellow was following him.

Now, Levits was sure that in his present condition fighting with this guy would be the closest thing to suicide, but he was hungry, and he had worked his ass off for the little money he had. The guy started walking faster, and Levits took off in a dead heat. He had never been much of a fighter, but he had always been one hell of a runner.

A man darted in the door, fighting for breath.

"Isn't that RJ's pilot?" Whitey slurred out.

Mickey barely looked up. "Looks like it."

Levits man watched with relief as the goon who had obviously been chasing him ran past the bar. He took a deep breath and started to go get a seat. He had almost reached his goal when someone grabbed his arm and damn near pulled it out of socket. The man was big and dark and looked to be witless, which meant there would be no dealing with him rationally.

"Buy me a beer," the man ordered.

There comes a point when a person has just been pushed one foot too far. Levits had reached that point. He balled up his fist and punched the man as hard as he could in the nose. As blood gushed from the man's face, he let go of Levits. Levits started to flee, only to be caught by the bleeding brute's other hand.

"Let him go!" Whitey bellowed, without bothering to stand up.

"He broke my nose, Baldor," the man hissed back.

"Let him go, or I'll break your whole fucking head," Whitey said in a coolly menacing tone.

The man grudgingly let go of Levits and made a rude noise in Whitey's direction. Then he turned and left the bar trailing a steady stream of blood behind him.

Levits looked over at the odd pair. He remembered his first encounter with them. How could he forget it! A woman had been with them then. Now he realized that her words had been true. Alsterase was no place for a man alone.

He walked over to where they sat. "Thanks."

Whitey nodded his huge head. "Join us?"

"Does the invitation include a meal?" Levits asked as lightly as his belly would allow.

In answer, Mickey called a waitress over to the table and ordered. "Room, too. If you work with us," Mickey told him with a smile.

"Where's the woman?" Levits asked looking around.

"She doesn't love me," Whitey moaned.

"Damn, now you've done it." Mickey said in disgust. "You got him started again."

"Sorry," Levits shrugged. "So where is she?"

"Away on business," Mickey answered simply.

"With
him
," Whitey spat.

"Him who?" Levits asked.

"David! God, how I hate him!"

Food was set before Levits, and all else was forgotten till he finished shoving his face full.

"What can I say? This is too good to be true. Food, lodging . . . Do I get clothes, too?"

"Oh, yes. And weapons," Whitey said bitterly. "And maybe RJ will come home and . . ."

"RJ!" Levits gasped in a whisper. "Not
the
RJ! The one the Reliance wants killed at any price?"

Whitey smiled sadistically. "Is that a problem?"

"Damn, I knew it was too good to be true," he mumbled.

"She grows on you after awhile," Mickey said with a reassuring grin.

They looked out from their hiding place among the trees. Victory had made them overconfident.

Or at least it had made David and Alexi overconfident. Things had gone smoothly. Too smoothly for RJ's liking. She'd learned to be leery of anything that seemed too easy.

There was really no reason for her guts to twist themselves into knots. Everything was in position. She had checked and double-checked. Everything was in order. Everything except her gut. She had set the charges. She had placed her weapons. She had planned her strategy. She had checked and double-checked the box; still . . .

"We're not going to do this one. Let's pack up," she announced. "It's time to go home."

"Are you nuts?" Time and togetherness had not made Alexi any fonder of RJ, nor had it endeared him to her. "Those Reliance dicks are like fruit for the picking. As long as we have the box . . ."

"What if they've figured out that we've got it?" RJ asked hotly.

"What could they do then?" David didn't understand.

"Remember in the forest when the Reliance were chasing us?"

David nodded, how could he forget.

"I knew were to plant the traps because I knew they were following us. Same thing here. If they know we have the box, they could enter false data. Scenario . . . We wind up facing a GSH and a troop of Elites for a shipment of bubble gum."

"But surely we could finish this one. I mean, we're already set up," Alexi said. "Or is everyone's favorite warlord having an attack of woman's intuition?"

"Maybe," RJ said simply. "But it's time to pack it in. We've got enough. It's stupid to let greed get us killed."

"I agree, and no one will be happier than I will to get home. But why don't we go ahead and do this one?" David told the truth. He did want to go home. He found it exhausting to be in the company of two people who hated each other so intensely. "So, what do you say? Let's do this last one, and then we'll toss the box and call it quits."

RJ thought for a moment. Was she being silly? Well, of course she was, but that was her prerogative. She looked at Alexi.

"Troublemaker," she grumbled at him.

He smiled smugly.

They waited in silence. The caravan came into view. The lead vehicle came even with the charges. RJ threw a switch and BOOM! No more vehicle. The caravan came to a halt and well-trained Elites deployed quickly into the surrounding areas, looking for their targets. They ran right past the three rebels and right into a trap. Nothing fancy, just a line of dummies set behind automated projectile weapons controlled by a button in RJ's hand. The troops stormed up the hill towards the fake Rebels and right into a mine field.