The Cause of Death (23 page)

She was definitely drawing the attention of all three assault vehicles. All of them had been streaking toward the ditch, but now all three slowed down and turned to meet her. The one closest to the ditch, the one that had fired on them already, came to a complete halt.

And none of them had taken the slightest notice of Jamie. That was the whole idea. He had three targets, spread out over about 180 degrees of view, none of them moving fast.

He had to pick which one to go for first. The one closest to the ditch had come to a dead stop. If he missed with his first shot, all three vehicles would be alerted and start to do evasive driving--and all three would be shooting back. Jamie made a snap decision. Kill the easy one, the sure thing, first, and be sure of only two enemy vehicles coming for him over a ninety-degree field of incoming fire, instead of risking three vehicles over twice as wide a field. Jamie brought the night scope up to his face, put his finger on the trigger, exhaled, and fired at the motionless vehicle in the moment between two heartbeats.

The multigun kicked back violently, and the heavy-caliber round slammed into its target. The penetrating round burrowed deep into the assault vehicle and exploded, instantly touching off secondary explosions as the truck's power supplies overloaded and stored ammo blew up.

Jamie shifted to his left. The two remaining assault vehicles were still coming round in their turns, one of them nearly all the way about and the other pointed straight at him. The one that had completed its turn was more of a threat to Zahida and Hannah, although it was a harder target. He aimed his weapon again and fired. He scored another hit deep in the engine compartment, but this time there were no helpful secondary explosions. Either his luck wasn't as good the second time out, or else the crew of that vehicle was more careful about storing explosive ammo.

It didn't matter. Even if the second AV hadn't blown up, it had caught fire. Jamie used the night scope's image-enhancement mode to see one crewman fall off, a second drop to the ground, drag himself clear, then collapse--and a third who was clearly visible, slumped over and motionless in the cab of the burning vehicle. Jamie knew, in that moment, that it would be that image, that memory, that would stay with him.

The cough of a mortar round being fired brought him back to more pressing concerns. Without thinking or looking, he rolled right, fast, three times, four times before--
BLAM!

The mortar struck and exploded right where he had been. They must have commanded its autotargeting system to locate the source of the weapons fire and shoot back at it. It had been plain foolishness on Jamie's part to stay in one place long enough to fire two shots at different targets. He had almost been inviting them to triangulate in on him.

The dirt and rocks and mud and bits of exploded mortar rained down on him, and he felt as if someone had just kicked him in the head--which was near enough to the truth. He heard the hissing and sizzling of an incendiary round trying to set fire to wet earth. They hadn't had time to switch to explosive rounds, and that had saved him. A high-explosive shot the size of that incendiary would have killed him for sure--and dug a crater big enough to bury him.

He looked up, and saw that the remaining AV had given up any thought of chasing Zahida and was bearing down on him. He was too shook up by the near miss to set up a precision shot quickly. He fired an unaimed penetrator round in the general direction of the last remaining AV. It struck the ground and blew up about a hundred meters shy of the oncoming vehicle. The blast didn't do any damage, but it did throw up a nice cloud of dust and smoke that would shield him for a second or two. It also distracted the AV long enough for Jamie to shift position again, settle in, preaim his weapon, and wait for the last enemy vehicle to punch through the wall of smoke and head straight for him. But he instantly regretted firing that shot, even if it did do him some good.

The multigun rifle was a superb weapon, but it had a distinct disadvantage. In order to make room for all the gadgetry, and to allow it to fire multiple types of ammo, it could only load a limited number of each type of round. Jamie was down to his last penetrator round. The multigun would automatically default back to standard rifle rounds the next time he fired. He would have the choice of firing standard rounds in hopes of getting lucky and hitting something vital, or else of spending three or four precious seconds to shift over to explosive rounds that would be the next best thing after the penetrators.

Better, far better, to make the next shot count. Get settled. Stay calm. Be ready.

The last assault vehicle broke through the smoke cloud, headlight bright, moving fast, coming straight for him--or straight for where he had been, which was close enough. He could see someone beside the driver with what looked like a plain old-fashioned automatic rifle--which could be a lot more deadly than a self-ranging mortar in the current situation.

The driver was swerving back and forth, trying to make the AV a harder target to hit, but he was already too close. Jamie couldn't have missed if he had wanted to. And Jamie very much wanted to score a hit.

He fired, and nailed the AV, the penetrator smashing into the front power housing and exploding there, snapping the front axle. The AV's chassis crashed to the ground and the whole vehicle flipped over on its side. Jamie almost jammed the ammo selector by trying to flip to explosive while the defaulting system was still dropping back to standard rounds. It took him six seconds, not three or four, to make the switch, and another two to aim and fire the explosive round--and something less than a half second more to realize there had been no need to fire it at all. The AV was burning almost as brightly as the
Lotus
even before the explosive round hit. No one in it could possibly be alive. But then the exploder hit, and went up with a loud and useless bang--and there was barely an assault vehicle there at all.

He set down his weapon, pushed himself up out of the approved position for prone shooting, and knelt on one knee for a minute, trying his hardest not to feel anything, not to think anything. Zahida's flat-truck was squealing out from behind the
Lotus
's funeral pyre, and came charging back in his general direction, slowing down to dodge the bits and pieces of burning wreckage that littered the area. A handlight came on and started sweeping through the darkness, looking for him.

He scooped up his weapon, got to his feet, and called out, just making a noise, no words at all. The light turned toward him, spearing him in its bright beam. Behind its glare he could hear the sound of the flat-truck coming forward.

"Yes," said Zahida. "Yes. You did it."

Jamie said nothing, but simply climbed aboard and dropped himself into the truck bed. Hannah gave him a quick once-over, shining the light over him, satisfying herself that he hadn't been hit or injured. "All right," she said. "All right." She shut off the light, and Jamie could see her, though only as a shadow in the fire-rippled darkness. She turned to Zahida and spoke. "It's time to go," she said, and turned back to Jamie. "Thanks. You saved us." She turned to Zahida. "And so did you," she went on. "They would have hunted us down for sure if you hadn't gotten here first."

"Their friends still might, if we much stay here," said Zahida, and started her flat-truck going again, rolling smoothly down the landing pad. "We must go. We reach the fence and cut it and be in the forest quick. Then I shall take you to some place safe and quiet."

Safe and quiet
, Jamie thought.
That sounds like a nice change of pace
. "Let's go," he said. "I'll like to get away from all this."

Zahida said nothing, but turned back to her controls, speeding them all off into the sheltering darkness.

FOURTEEN
REUNION

Lantrall, Thelm of all Reqwar, sat in the rear seat of his ground vehicle and watched as his security agent examined the displays one last time. Then the agent checked the area personally with the use of an infrared scanner. He turned on his swivel chair and faced the Thelm--without standing. Others might make the foolish mistake of attempting to stand in the presence whilst in a closed low-roof ground vehicle. This agent did not. Protocol gave way to practicalities in matters of security, and attempting to stand in the car would have reduced his ability to protect the Thelm.

. . .
To protect the Thelm
. It seemed as if everything else revolved around those words. There had been a time, or so the story went, when the Thelm of Reqwar had no need to worry about his own security. The people were happy, the High Thelek and all the other notables were united in support of their Thelm. There had been none who would wish the Thelm ill, let alone try to do him harm.

In those days, if they had ever truly been, the Thelm had walked freely among his people without an escort of any kind. The present Thelm doubted most strongly that there had ever been such days--but even if there had been, they were long gone.

"The area appears secure, my Thelm," the agent said.

Ah, yes
, Thelm Lantrall thought,
but in these days, how many things are what they appear to be
? "Very well," he said. "Then I shall go in."

"I do not judge that wise, my Thelm," the agent said.

"Your judgment is noted, and appreciated," the Thelm replied. "Nonetheless, I shall go in." He allowed himself a rare moment of levity--dark levity, perhaps, but a jest all the same. "After all, old friend, I go to visit my son. Is that not the one circumstance where it is thought improper for me to be protected?"

"Very true, sir. But the situation is--unusual."

The Thelm nodded sadly. "Yes," he said. "It is. And that is why I judge it as both safe and necessary that I pay this call." He gestured for the guard outside to open the door, and the guard did so.

Thelm Lantrall stepped out into the fine, cool night. If he had listened to his guards, he would never venture outside Thelm's Keep--or, for that matter, would never leave his own quarters inside the Keep. But acceding to their wishes would make it impossible for him to govern.

And, of course, such was the goal of certain elements in his security services: to make the Thelm a virtual prisoner of his protective detail, to prevent him from acting, to control whom he saw and what news he received. There were times when it seemed they were coming close to achieving that goal. But not now. Not tonight.

Not all of his security people had been subverted. There were still many who could be trusted. The challenge came in ensuring that no security agent in the pocket of the High Thelek had a chance to report in soon enough to stop the Thelm from doing what he wished, on the grounds of "security."

The Thelm had waited for a night when a particular team of security agents would be on duty in order to pay this visit--agents who weren't in the pay of the Thelek. The High Thelek would find out sooner or later, of course. But at least he would not find out soon enough to prevent the meeting.

The Thelm walked forward, into the light--and there was light aplenty. The reports were that his host for the evening had searched all of the town before selecting an old sculpture gallery that was the available structure with the fullest view of the interior from the outside. He had then enhanced that view by illuminating the grounds and the exterior of the house in such a way as to keep the interior clearly visible as well. He wanted to be seen, and wanted everyone to know where he was.

He had, by all accounts, succeeded in that. The local authorities had been obliged to erect an automated defense perimeter around the building to hold off the often-hostile crowds that formed during the day. After dark, no one was there except the hovering patrol robots left to watch by night.

One advantage of the automated patrol system was that unlike flesh-and-blood guards, robots were never startled by the appearance of someone unexpected. The Thelm was, of course, on their basic list of authorized persons, and therefore was allowed to pass without comment.

He ventured through the grounds and up to the entrance. He reached out to press the annunciator, and was not particularly surprised when the door slid open before he could do so. After all, if the idea was to allow anyone--including those hostile to the occupant--to see in, it was only to be expected that the occupant had been careful to arrange matters so he could see out.

The figure that opened the door was, very briefly, in shadow. "Father Lantrall" said the familiar, oddly accented voice, "I am most pleased to see you. Please come in."

The Thelm of all Reqwar did so, and stood to one side as his adopted--and sole surviving--son closed the door and turned to face him.

Georg Hertzmann looked terrible, but that was to be expected. He had been through a great deal and had doubtless been getting less sleep than humans required. But appearance was one thing, and manners were another. Georg bowed in precisely the proper way, bending to exactly the proper angle, and straightened up. "I bid you welcome, my father, Thelm of all Reqwar," he said in his careful, nearly perfect Pavlavian.