Third World (20 page)

“
Go to hell.” Defiant as it
sounded, the man went into a fresh spasm of grief.

It was contagious enough, and Barnes
for one looked away while Oscar bent and peered into the face, as
if looking for the reinforcement of some inner need.

“
Oscar.”

“
Yes, sir?”

“
That’s enough.” Newton was
embarrassed not just by Oscar but for him as well.

They were just so damned young. They
still thought of justice in cowboys-and-Indians terms but Newton
had let go of all that years ago and now thought of it in terms of
always-imperfect compromise. The lives of a killer’s family were
just as destroyed as the family of the victim when the wheels of
justice began to grind.

The likelihood was that the subject had
missed the shuttle, gone absent without leave, panicked and ran
away when he should have simply contacted the ship and taken his
punishment. Years had gone by and now he had a new life, one that
was now over and could never be restored.

“
I’m sorry, sir. We’re just
doing our duty and our orders are clear.”

Barnes and Oscar clung to the man, one
on each elbow, as they guided him up the unfamiliar steps of the
truck, with Newton standing watch and looking for trouble to come
along any minute now.

Some of the people at the dance had
followed them, and one or two had peeled off into Gregory’s Bar, no
doubt to spread the fantastic news. Newton had never seen human
morality in black and white terms, but there were times when
illusions of morality, and the seedy side of human nature,
positively sickened him. All morality was conventional, but this
was their town and he knew their welcome had just run
out.

Looking up at the troopers and the
subject, he nodded.

“
Lock the door. I’ll be back
in five minutes with your relief.” He thought for a second, trying
to anticipate what these knuckleheads were capable of. “I’ll
question the prisoner myself. Do not abuse this prisoner or heads
will roll, mine included. Understood?”

There were nods from the soldiers and
more sniffles from the prisoner. He watched as the door swung
closed and the latches clicked in.

“
Sir?” It was Kane through
the headset.

“
Yes?” Newton needed to keep
a patient, level tone with his people and he was having trouble
doing it.

“
What about me?”

“
Hang tight until I say
otherwise.”

“
I want to go to the
bathroom.”

“
Use the one in the truck.”
The units had a small lavatory in the rear of the cab.

Use of it was unpopular, as the
ventilation system wasn’t meant for large numbers of
people.

He didn’t understand what her problem
was. There was a long silence.

“
Look. For the time being
you can smoke in the vehicle. Until further
instructions.”

More silence.

It was the best he could do. He looked
around at the gaggle of off-duty troopers, hanging about in a group
and watching in unfeigned interest, possibly for the first time in
the entire trip. Someone giggled and he looked away, face
flushing.

“
Look, I have to figure out
who’s guarding our prisoner. In the meantime, just hold
on.”

He engaged the troopers with his eyes
again.

“
I need two volunteers for
the first shift.”

If that didn’t impose some kind of
silence, nothing would.

He pointed at two bodies, the nearest
and most easily identifiable, Marlowe and Hatcher.

“
You, and you. Suit up. You
can write a complaint ticket later.” He ignored the groans of
dismay. “Bring your weapons. There will be no weapon-swapping with
those on duty.”

Newton might as well wring everything
he could out of it.

He waited, and their one minute was
running out. His features stiffened and he was about to say
something feral.

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Yes, sir.”

In the silence his words rang very
loud.

“
The rest of you folks are
dismissed. You will be kept informed.” Whoever pissed him off the
most was going to get the pre-dawn shift, and somehow that
transmitted itself to the bulk of them.

They shuffled off, still staring at the
truck, him and each other as if this was the greatest show on
Earth. In Third World terms, it probably was.

Then Lieutenant Newton Shapiro of Her
Majesty’s Armed Services stepped forward smartly and they parted to
let him through. He paused at the bottom of the steps for one last
look at the trucks, but he’d be back in a couple of minutes anyway.
He shook his head in anger, and the troops did their best not to
look his way, although he was undoubtedly the centre of
attention.

“
All right people.
Inside.”

There was some muttering, but they
followed along dutifully enough.

Against all odds, he had done it. They
couldn’t take that away from him. It was likely to be more trouble
than it was worth, and there was nothing he could do about that.
What a hell of a business.

He stumped up the steps and headed into
the hotel to find where Ensign Spaulding had gotten off to. Faber
and the others were not in the crowd and he wondered why that was.
They hadn’t been at the dance, either, and if they were
outlandishly drunk they weren’t going to be of much use.

These things had a way of getting ugly
very quickly and a small crowd of civilians was watching them from
across the street.

“
All right, people, we’re
going to have a little briefing.”

Their prisoner was a local man and the
Empire was a long ways away. It was also neglectful, and heavily
engaged in political posturing halfway across the
Galaxy.

This was just one small drop in the
cosmic bucket, and he wondered how much it all really mattered
sometimes. The answer was a simple one. Everything mattered.
Everything, and they all had their little role to play.

***

They stood in a semi-circle in the bar
area, watching him as he called the missing personnel.

Luckily for him they all answered
fairly quickly. No one gave him an argument when he told them they
had a prisoner and to get down to the billiards room.

After getting off the air with Faber,
the last one, he motioned to the troopers.

“
Clear the billiards room.
Politely.”

Not much to his surprise, Faber and
Jackson were already there, Jackson chalking the end of the pool
cue with a knowing look at Faber as they arrived.

The few civilian customers heard the
news with some indignation, but one look at Newton’s face was
enough to convince them. Armed or unarmed, someone meant business.
It was all part of the entertainment. The civilians were politely
ushered to the door.

“
All the way out, boys.
Sorry.” Ensign Spaulding’s voice rose and fell and then her party
was back in the room. “Okay, go ahead, Skipper.”

No one had ever called him that
before.

“
I need four hour shifts.
Two people guard the prisoner at all times. Barnes and Oscar are to
be relieved immediately, also Kane and what’s his name.” This
brought a few chuckles. “Four hours later, the new people will be
relieved.”

Those on duty all night would be able
to sleep in the trucks, hopefully, in the daytime. There were
enough bodies on hand for round-the-clock coverage. He looked at
them for a long moment.

“
We leave at dawn. Those of
you who are not needed, will retire to your rooms in half an hour.
Lights out within a reasonable time—say fifteen minutes.” They
looked at each other, and back at him. “This situation is
uncomfortable. This man probably has friends. He’s been on the
planet for many years. You will sleep with battle gear beside you
and your communicators on standby. Understood?”

“
Yes, sir.” They were pretty
unanimous on that.

One or two looked appraisingly at the
windows along the front of the building, where they would no doubt
be visible to those outside.

“
Lieutenant, are we
expecting trouble?” Beth Spaulding seemed shocked by the
prospect.

“
I don’t know.” He stared at
his small contingent. “I need two people. Otherwise I pick a couple
of names and that’s final.”

Hernandez stepped forward and snapped a
quick salute. Cornell stepped forwards then too, but Newton shook
his head as they were just a little too chummy for his comfort
right then.

He looked at Spaulding.

“
Why don’t you take this
first one?”

She nodded with a wry look on her
face.

“
Sorry, it’s just that I
have to sleep sometime and this is one reason we’re top-heavy with
senior staff.”

She inclined her head politely. With a
gesture to Hernandez, they departed upstairs to get geared
up.

“
The next pair will Boyle
and Dobbson. Try and get some sleep. You come on at three a.m. Use
your alarm clocks. And, I will be the one coming for you.” He made
sure he knew what rooms they were in, otherwise he would be
stumbling into the wrong rooms and looking like an idiot. “You are
dismissed.”

The babble of talk rose to a more
normal level as they streamed out and up the stairs.

Following along, Newton gave a terse
nod to Gregory, standing behind the bar.

“
Drink, Lieutenant?” He held
up a bottle of genuine Scotch.

He must have had that stashed
somewhere. For all Newton Shapiro knew, it might be the last one on
the planet.

“
How much for the whole
bottle?”

“
A hundred
dollars.”

Newton grimaced.

“
Aw, what the hell.” It
might even come in useful, although there was no way he could write
it off as a legitimate expense.

“
Charge to the
Crown?”

“
Ah, no.” Newton dug into
the roll of petty cash he kept on him at all times and peeled off a
couple of layers of plastic money.

Gregory snapped the lid and poured him
a drink, a good couple of ounces in the bottom of a short draft
beer glass.

Newton lifted it and toasted himself in
the mirror. Then he drained it in a couple of quick
gulps.

“
Oh, boy.” The bar rang with
the impact of an empty glass.

Scooping up the bottle, Newton nodded
politely at the barman, looking inscrutable even though they had
just sent most of his customers home.

His own bed was calling, although he
doubted if he would be able to sleep.

***

Ensign Spaulding and Trooper Hernandez
mounted the vehicle, to the evident relief of those
inside.

Spaulding noted without making major
eye contact that the crowd of people had grown even in the short
time they’d been inside.

“
Off you go. We’re leaving
at dawn, whatever the hell that means.” Something suddenly occurred
to her.

They had someone in the other
truck.

“
Yeah, when is dawn,
anyways?”

Beth Spaulding leveled a look at
Hernandez.

“
Around five-thirty this
time of year.” Ensign Spaulding called Shapiro, relieved that he
answered on the first buzz.

“
Who will be in truck number
one?”

“
I’ve asked Benson and
Sims.” As he spoke, they appeared in the gloom ahead of them and
went up to the door of the vehicle in front of them.

She nodded.

“
Have we made contact with
the ship yet?”

“
No, I was just going to do
that.” Shapiro didn’t say that he was sitting in the latrine at
that exact moment in time.

“
Roger that. Spaulding out.”
Her screen went dark.

“
I think we’re all just
tired.” Hernandez looked hopefully at her, and then at the
prisoner, sitting with his head slumped.

Spaulding looked at the prisoner
thoughtfully.

“
Hernandez.”

“
Yes?”

“
Let’s see if we can find a
blanket and a pillow or something. Go on inside and ask Mister
Gregory.”

“
Roger that.” She let
herself out, seemingly unafraid of the spectators, who were an
oddly quiet bunch, although the truck windows were all closed and
the air-conditioning plant hummed softly somewhere up
front.

Their audience didn’t seem to be doing
much, just watching the action.

It had to be at least ten degrees
cooler inside, and the relief from the ever-present humidity was
welcome enough.

“
Sir?”

No response.

“
Sir.”

Getting up out of her seat, she went
over and nudged him.