Friday (19 page)

“About an hour. It’s a small pump.”

“Ian, I can get that body clean in ten minutes if you will strip it and stick it into the shower. How about his clothes? Do they go down your oubliette, whatever you call it, or do you have some way to destroy them? Do they have to go through the pool tunnel?”

Things moved fast then, with Ian being fully cooperative and all of them letting me lead. Jan stripped down, too, and insisted on helping me wash the corpse, while Georges put the clothes through their home laundry and Ian went through the water tunnel to make some preparations.

I did not want to let Janet help me because I have had mind control training and I was fairly sure that she had not. But, trained or not, she is tough. Aside from wrinkling her nose a couple of times she did not flinch. And of course, with her help, it went much faster.

Georges brought the clothes back, dripping. Janet put them into a plastic sack and pressed the air out. Ian reappeared up out of the pool, with the end of a rope. The men hitched it under the body’s armpits and shortly it was gone.

Twenty minutes later we were clean and dry, with no trace of Lieutenant Dickey left in the house. Janet had come into “my” room while I was transferring items from Dickey’s wallet into the plastic money belt she had given me—primarily money and two credit cards, American Express and Maple Leaf.

She didn’t make any silly remarks about “robbing the dead”—and I would not have listened if she had. These days, operating without a valid credit card and/or cash is impossible. Jan left the room, came back quickly with twice as much cash as I had salvaged. I accepted it, saying, “You know that I have no notion as to how and when I can repay this.”

“Certainly I know it. Marj, I’m wealthy. My grandparents were; I’ve never been anything else. Look, dear, a man pointed a gun at me…and you jumped him, with your bare hands. Can I repay
that?
Both of my husbands were present…but
you
were the one who tackled him.”

“Don’t feel that way about the men, Jan; they don’t have my training.”

“I could see that. Someday I would like to hear about it. Any chance you will go to Québec?”

“An excellent chance if Georges decides to leave.”

“I thought so.” She offered me more money. “I don’t keep Q-francs in the house, much. But here is what I have.”

At that point the men came in. I glanced at my finger, then at the wall. “Forty-seven minutes since I killed him so he has been out of touch with his headquarters one hour, more or less. Georges, I am about to attempt to pilot that police APV; I have the key right here. Unless you are coming with me and will pilot. Are you coming? Or are you going to stay and wait for the next attempt to arrest you? Either way,
I
am leaving now.”

Janet said suddenly, “Let’s
all
leave!”

I grinned at her. “Swell!”

Ian said, “You really want to do that, Jan?”

“I—” She stopped and looked frustrated. “I can’t. Mama Cat and her kittens. Black Beauty and Demon and Star and Red. We could close this house, certainly; it winterproofs on only one household Shipstone. But it would take at least a day or two to make arrangements for the rest of our family. Even one pig! I can’t just walk out on them. I
can’t
.”

There wasn’t anything to say, so I didn’t. The coldest depth of Hell is reserved for people who abandon kittens. Boss says that I am stupidly sentimental and I’m sure he is right.

We went outside. It was just beginning to get dark and I suddenly realized that I had entered this household less than a day earlier—it seemed like a month. Goodness, just twenty-four hours ago I had still been in New Zealand…which seemed preposterous.

The police car was sitting on Jan’s vegetable garden, which caused her to use language I did not expect from her. It had the usual squatty oyster shape of an antigrav not intended for space and was about the size of our family farm wagon in South Island. No, that did not make me triste; Jan and her men—and Betty and Freddie—had replaced the Davidson Group in my heart—
donna e mobile
; that’s me. Now I wanted very badly to get back to Boss. Father figure? Probably—but I’m not interested in shrink theories.

Ian said, “Let me look at this bucket before you lift it. You babes in the wood could get hurt.” He opened the lid, got in. Presently he got out again. “You can float it if you decide to. But hear me. It’s got an identification transponder. It almost certainly has an active beacon, too, although I can’t find it. Its Shipstone is down to thirty-one percent, so, if you are thinking of Québec, forget it. It will seal but you can’t maintain cabin pressure above twelve thousand meters. But, worst of all, its terminal is calling Lieutenant Dickey.”

“So we ignore it!”

“Of course, Georges. But, as a result of the Ortega trials last year, they’ve been installing remote-control destruction packs in police cars. I searched for signs of one. Had I found it, I would have disarmed it. I did not find it. That does not mean that it isn’t there.”

I shrugged. “Ian, necessary risks never bother me. I try to avoid the other sort. But we still have to get rid of this heap of tin. Fly it somewhere. Leave it.”

Ian said, “Not so fast, Marj. Go-buggies are my business. This one—Yes! It’s got the standard military AG autopilot. So we’ll send it for a ride. Where? East, maybe? It would crash before it reaches Québec…and that could cause them to assume that you are headed home, Georges—while you are safe in the Hole.”

“I do not care, Ian. I shall not hide in the Hole. I agreed to leave because Marjorie needs someone to care for her.”

“More likely she’ll take care of you. You saw how she polished off Soapy.”

“Agreed. But I did not say ‘take care of’—I said that she needs someone to care for her.”

“Same thing.”

“I will not argue it. Shall we make it march?”

I chopped that off by saying, “Ian, is there enough power in its Shipstone to take it south to the Imperium?”

“Yes. But it’s not safe for you to float it.”

“Didn’t mean that. Set it on course south and maximum altitude. Maybe your border guard will burn it down, maybe the Imperium will. Or maybe it will get through but be blown by remote. Or it might just run out of juice and crash from maximum altitude. No matter which, we are free of it.”

“Done.” Ian jumped back in, was busy at the board, the craft started to float—he dived out, dropping three or four meters. I gave him a hand. “You all right?”

“Just fine. Look at her go!” The police car was rapidly disappearing above us while slanting south. Suddenly it broke out of the gathering dusk into the last of the sunlight and was very bright. It dwindled and was gone.

We were back in the kitchen, half an eye on the terminal, our attention on each other and on highballs Ian had served, discussing what if anything to do now. Ian was saying,

“Marj, if you will just sit tight this silly season will be over and you can then go home comfortably. If there is another flap, you can dive down the Hole. At worst you have to stay indoors. Meanwhile Georges can paint nudes of you, as Betty ordered. Okay, Georges?”

“That would be most pleasing.”

“Well, Marj?”

“Ian, if I tell my boss that I couldn’t come back when I was supposed to because a twenty-five-hundred kilometer stretch of border was nominally closed he simply would not believe me.” (Tell them that I am a trained courier? No need to. Or not yet.)

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I have been enough trouble to you folks.” (Ian dear, I think you are still in shock from seeing a man killed in your living room. Even though you straightened up afterward and behaved like a pro.) “I now know where your back door is. When you get up tomorrow morning it is possible that I won’t be here. Then you can forget a disturbance in your life.”

“
No!
”

“Jan, once this mess is over, I will call you. Then, if you want me to, I’ll come back to visit just as soon as I have some vacation time. But now I must leave and get back to work. I’ve said so all along.”

Janet simply would not hear of my setting out alone to crack the border (whereas I needed someone with me the way a snake needs shoes). But she did have a plan.

She pointed out that Georges and I could travel on their passports—I was her size, near enough, and Georges matched Ian in size and weight. Our faces did not match but the differences weren’t major—and who really looks at passport pictures anyhow?

“You could use them and mail them back…but that may not be the easiest way. You could go to Vancouver, then cross into the California Confederacy simply on tourists’ cards—but as
us
. You can go all the way to Vancouver on our credit cards. Once across the border into California you are almost certainly home free—Marj, your credit card should be good, you shouldn’t have trouble phoning your employer, and the cops won’t be trying to intern either one of you. Is that any help?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I think the tourist-card dodge is safer than trying to use your passports—safer for everyone. If I reach a place where my credit card is valid, my troubles should be over.” (I would draw cash at once and never again let myself be caught away from home without plenty of cash—money greases anything. Especially in California, a place loaded with scams, whereas in British Canada officials are sometimes disconcertingly honest.)

I added, “I can’t possibly be worse off in Bellingham than I am here—then I’ve got all the way down to the Lone Star Republic to try to cross if there is any holdup. Has there been any word on Texas and Chicago? Are they on speaking terms?”

“Okay so far as I’ve seen in the news,” Ian answered. “Shall I key the computer for a search?”

“Yes, before I leave please do. If I had to, I could go through Texas to Vicksburg. One can always go up the river for cash because smugglers run so steadily.”

“Before
we
leave,” Georges corrected me gently.

“Georges, I think this route would work, for me. For you, all it would do is get you farther and farther away from Québec. Didn’t you say that McGill is your other base?”

“Dear lady, I have no wish to go to McGill. Since the police are being difficult here, my true home, I can think of nothing I would rather do than travel with you. Once we cross into Washington Province of California you can change your name from Mrs. Tormey to Mrs. Perreault, as it is certain, I think, that both my Maple Leaf card and my Crédit Québec card will be accepted.”

(Georges, you are a gallant darling…and when I’m trying to pull a caper I need a gallant darling the way I need an Oregon boot. And I will have to pull one, dear—despite what Janet said, I will not be home free.) “Georges, that sounds delightful. I can’t tell you that you must stay home…but I
must
tell you that I am by profession a courier who has traveled for years by herself, all over this planet, more than once to space colonies, and to Luna. Not yet to Mars or Ceres but I may be ordered to at any time.”

“You are saying that you would rather I did not accompany you.”

“No, no! I am merely saying that, if you choose to go with me, it will be purely social. For your pleasure and mine. But I must add that when I enter the Imperium I
must
go alone, as I will be back on duty at once.”

Ian said, “Marj, at least let Georges get you out of here and into territory where there is no silly talk of interning you, and where your credit card is valid.”

Janet added, “It’s getting free of that silly internment thing that is important. Marj, you can hang onto my Visa card as long as you wish; I’ll use my Maple Leaf card instead. Just remember that you are Jan Parker.”

“Parker?”

“Visa has my maiden name on it. Here, take it.” I accepted it, thinking that I would use it only when someone was looking over my shoulder. When possible, I would charge things to the late Lieutenant Dickey, whose credit should remain viable for days, possibly weeks. There was more chitchat and at last I said,

“I’m leaving now. Georges, are you coming with me?”

Ian said, “Hey! Not tonight. First thing in the morning.”

“Why? The tubes run all night, do they not?” (I knew that they did.)

“Yes but it’s over twenty klicks to the nearest tube station. And dark as the inside of a pile of coal.”

(Not the time to discuss enhanced vision.) “Ian, I can walk that far by midnight. If a capsule leaves at midnight, I can get practically a full night’s sleep in Bellingham. If the border is open between California and the Imperium, I’ll report to my boss tomorrow morning. Better so, huh?”

A few minutes later we all left, by surrey. Ian was not pleased with me as I had not been the sweet, soft, amenable creature that men prefer. But he got over his annoyance and kissed me very sweetly when they dropped us at Perimeter and McPhillips across from the tube station. Georges and I crowded into the twenty-three o’-clock capsule, then we had to stand up all the way across the continent.

But we were in Vancouver by twenty-two (Pacific Time—midnight in Winnipeg), picked up applications for tourist cards as we entered the Bellingham shuttle, filled them out en route, had them processed by the exit computer as we left the shuttle a few minutes later. The human operator didn’t even look up as the machine spit out our cards. She just murmured, “Enjoy your stay,” and went on reading.