Koban (52 page)

They stepped off the elevator in the Great Hall, and got immediate
notice. From the people of the Fancy without guns it was envy, because these two
were now well armed. The new arrivals were almost all eager to get their own weapons.
There was a waiting list for the firing range, and the volunteer instructors now
asked for what to them were rare food items in exchange for lessons.

The looks they received from the Primes were more measured. Many
had heard who had certified these two at the range, but if not, they could see the
two distinct low-slung modified pistols, just like the ones Colonel ‘Grease’ wore.

There were four of the short clips in their belt holders. Based
on color codes, two were filled with large caliber buck shot, one with small shot,
and one with soft-nosed slugs. The inserted fifth short magazine in the pistols
on their right hips each held small buckshot. You could tell based on the brown
color code of the bottom two inches showing on each clip. The left hip guns were
not loaded. Dillon carried the satchel with the remaining loaded ten large clips,
and additional ammunition, including practice rounds. The bag was over half-full
but probably weighed less than ten pounds at 1 g, and felt like fifteen pounds on
Koban.

Maggi spied them before they reached the doors that would take
them toward the east garage, nearest the Flight of Fancy. “Dillon, Noreen,” she
called out.

Hearing her voice, they turned, waved and joined her at a table
close to the doors. She was sitting with the Chief Steward, Nory Walters, and two
Primes that were unfamiliar to Dillon or Noreen.

“Deanna, Stavro,” Maggi rose to her feet to face her friends,
“May I present Commander Noreen Renaldo, the First Officer of the Flight of Fancy,
and Doctor Dillon Martin, a fellow scientist and a Board member of the University
consortium I told you about.” She turned back to complete the introduction, and
noticed the other two had remained seated.

Pretending to take no notice of the breach of manners, she finished
the introductions. “Noreen, Dillon, I’d like you to meet Stavro Bock and Deanna
Turner.”

That’s weird
Dillon thought,
Maggi leaving out honorifics?
He noticed they made no effort to stand or offer their hand in greeting. He
managed to hold his own hand back, to avoid an awkward moment, but Noreen had automatically
started to extend hers, so he smoothly reached over to grasp her right hand with
his left.

“Here my Lady, please allow me to help you,” as if she had needed
help to step over the bench seat at the table.

Quickly understanding what he’d done and why, Noreen replied
in kind, “Thank you my Gentle Man.”

The formality was in stark contrast to the two motionless Primes,
who hadn’t even nodded their heads in acknowledgement of the introduction.

Maggi frowned slightly at the rudeness, but explained why she
had asked them to join her. “Mister Walters and I were discussing the safe storage
and security of the supplies we will be sharing with
everyone
here.” The
emphasis on ‘everyone’ was apparent.

She continued, “Mister Bock doesn’t think anything we brought
with us should be put in a locked or secure area, but rather placed on the easily
accessible storage racks next to the garage maintenance area. Miss Turner agrees
in part, but concedes that some of our scientific equipment and special nonfood
supplies may require more security.”

Looking to the two, she asked, “Did I state your positions accurately,
if only in a general manner? Or do you wish to clarify what I said?”

Obviously, there was a dispute arising over the bounty of supplies
the Flight of Fancy had brought with her, and how available they would be to those
already here.

Bock used a threatening tone. “Anything that captives bring with
them belongs to us all, and needs to be put where any of us can use them.”

“And I repeat Mister Bock,” Maggi replied forcefully, “that food,
drink, clothing, and bedding will be shared equally. However, we will not place
them where individuals can grab the lion’s share of what they want. That’s what
would happen if we followed your suggestion!”

In yet a more threatening tone, Bock got louder. “You had better
grasp the change in your new lifestyle woman; this is survival of the fittest here.
If you don’t take what you need to stay alive, you get weaker and die. The sooner
you newbie’s learn this, the more of you will live through the next year.”

Dillon sat still and kept his hands below the table. He spoke
up before Maggi exploded all over Bock’s insulting mode of address to an older Lady.

“Bock, who put
you
in charge of
anything
here?
We were told that there were no leaders among you, so are you saying that
you
are a leader here, that
you
set the rules and policy for everyone?” His tone
was just as harsh.

Bock had a snide reply, “If you mean have I survived by doing
what’s needed to stay alive then yes, I follow the rules we have been forced to
use. This is the Krall policy and their rules. You had better learn them fast or
you won’t last long, and it won’t be the Krall you have to worry about if you cross
me newbie.”

He leaned forward half rising, as he placed both hands on the
table as if about to leap over. He was a big man, stocky, and his muscles were adapted
to Koban’s gravity. He was sure he could take this
scientist
, who despite
looking fit, wasn’t about to match up to a real man.

Dillon didn’t pull back a centimeter. “The Krall apply their
rules to us, but we don’t have to do it to one another. I think you had best sit
back Bock, so we can talk reasonably about your future here, if you have one.”

“You feel brave now that you have a gun?” He taunted. “I can
take you any day before you can pull it out of that shiny new holster.” His own
gun was in a holster slung over the center right side of his chest.

“You have two hours practice with dummy rounds on stationary
targets. I’ll blow your head off if I don’t break your neck first.” He looked ready
to move if his threat didn’t force Dillon to back down.

“Bock, I don’t have to out draw you. If you make a single move
I don’t like, your balls will splatter all the way to that far wall.”

Bock quickly raised his right hand from the table to go for his
gun when a blast from under the table caught him in the lower groin, knocking him
backwards over the bench and onto his back. His lower abdomen was torn open and
blood was pouring out. There were startled shouts from around the room.

Bock screamed loudest, partly from pain but mostly in rage. Still
on his back he moved his hand towards his gun again, as Dillon stood, aiming his
pistol down at his face from the opposite side of the table.

“Don’t try it!” Dillon warned.

Ignoring the warning, Bock grabbed his pistol butt and had it
half out of the holster when his will power, along with his face, disappeared in
another whoosh-blam, and a spray of brains and blood as the buck shot struck.

The Turner woman had jumped away from Bock as he flew backwards,
and had her left hand on her pistol butt in her hip holster. She was looking at
Bock when he died, and as she looked back to Dillon, who was focused on the man
he’d just killed, she discovered she was looking at three other barrels aimed at
her.

Maggi, Walters, and Noreen had their guns out, covering Dillon.
Maggi was also looking around the room for anyone that may have taken exception
to Dillon’s act of self-defense.

Turner raised her hand well away from her gun, and none of the
other Primes seemed inclined to argue the matter, but they were watching them warily.

Dillon, the image of the dead man’s exploding face etched in
is mind, belatedly noticed Turner’s hand movement away from her gun, and realized
she could have killed him while he was frozen for that brief eternity. Then when
Maggi spoke, he glanced left and saw he’d had plenty of back up with their three
guns.

“This was self-defense,” Maggi shouted. “Bock threatened us,
and when we didn’t back down, he was drawing his gun when he was shot. He was given
another chance after that, but still pulled his weapon. There are more witnesses
than just us four.”

Surprising them, Turner spoke out. “She’s right. Bock was trying
to force them to let him take as much as he could get of the new supplies. Just
like he always does…, or did.” She added.

They were surprised no one seemed to question the reason for
the shooting. Four men came over cautiously, hands held up clear of their guns.

One man said, “We don’t doubt your word. Bock has been a bully
for a long time. He isn’t the only one, but he didn’t have any close friends.” The
other men nodded agreement.

“You’re new here, so we’ll handle the recycle for you, since
you don’t know where it is.” Each man took a limb and lifted the limp dripping body
and carried it out through the closest double doors.

Feeling sick to his stomach Dillon asked of no one in particular,
“Recycle?”

Jake’s voice answered, “There is an organic recycler in the covered
corral on the north side of the dome. It will…”

Dillon cut him off. “I don’t want to know.”

Maggi, who had heard his rhetorical question, realized that Jake
had provided him with some sort of an answer. That was interesting, and she
did
want to know, so she made a mental note to ask Jake about the subject later.

A small human made cleaning bot arrived from somewhere. It
started cleaning up the mess on the floor. It was the first one they had seen, proving
that some human automated equipment had made it here.

Turner, seeing that none of the guns was pointing at her now,
told them “I despised Bock, and I wasn’t
with
him. He simply came up and
joined us when he saw me talking to you two.” She meant Maggi and Nory Walters.

“That’s true,” confirmed Walters. “We were already talking with
Ms. Turner when Bock simply walked over and sat down.”

“I was taking a chance,” Turner told them. “You have so much
more to share than any new captives have had. I wanted to convince you to divide
your foodstuff fairly. Bock was one of the greedy ones. He knew I had complained
about how things disappeared here, and he probably guessed what I was going to
say to you. I was petrified when he sat down next to me. He’s killed before in a
fight over property.” She explained.

“I wasn’t going to defend him, but I wasn’t sure if either
of you,” she pointed to Noreen and Dillon, “might make me a target.”

Maggi replied loud enough that many people could hear. “We will
share the food supplies and items such as replacement clothes and shoes that I see
are in sad shape for many of you. The Krall spared our ship, so it will be available
to meet many of your needs. We have some pharmacy items, limited medical supplies,
an automated surgery, a machine shop, and if we get fresh food, an automated kitchen
to prepare cooked hot food.” She paused.

“But as Bock just discovered, we will fight and kill to protect
ourselves from anyone that tries to take what we are willing to give!” She said
that in her best Drill Sergeant voice.

As the buzz of conversation spread around the large hall, Maggi
walked closer to Turner.

“Young Lady, I think you have a bit more guts than a lot of the
people here. I would like to ask you to help us set up a fair distribution system,
with a place we can use like a commissary to pass out supplies. Are you interested?”

“I am if you can make people here comply with that. It may take
more than what happened here this morning to make it stick,” she warned.

“Well, I think we will have Colonel Greeves around to support
us, and more backbone in our group than people here have been used to seeing for
some time. If you can find us a place to store our supplies, we will see that they
are protected by not only us, but by people like yourself, who can oversee fair
distribution.”

“Then I’ll help, and I know some others that think like I do,
who may also be willing to help. A lot of us have given up hope of making things
better. It seems like every time anyone tries, they are sent on the next Training
Day.”

“You know dear, that’s not the first time that notion seems to
have reared its head. We may need to do a little snooping to discover how the lottery
really works. However, don’t worry about that for now. All I ask is that you spread
the word to people you trust, and ask them to wait.”

“I’ll do that Doctor Fisher. Thank you.” She disappeared into
the crowded hall, looking for the people she had mentioned.

The four of them were in relative isolation now, so Noreen had
to ask.

“Dillon, how the hell did you outdraw that thug from a sitting
position?”

“I didn’t,” he answered, with the first glimmer of a smile.

He untied the bottom of his holster and raised it to show the
singed mark at its end, and the short flash burn along the side of his pant leg
just above the knee. “I simply pointed my knee at him and pulled the trigger when
he made his move. Glad I had Smart pants on, that would have burned.”

Maggi said, “Cowboy, it ain’t noon yet and you already had ta
kill a man. Yew better get some chow afore yew get a posse on yer tail.”

They all looked at her as if she’d lost her mind and now spoke
gibberish.

“What?” She asked. “None of you ever watch those flat screen
things they used to call movies? The ship’s library has thousands of the old things.
I got bored.”

Before they could say more, a general Link was established, as
Noreen had arranged as a warning last night. Jake’s voice was in every crewmember’s
ear.

“A shuttle has landed near the Flight of Fancy. Telour has just
made an exit, and it appears he is going to the ramp for the open cargo hold.” As
instructed, the announcement ended without his usual added trivia.