Virtual Victory Page 3

silence, one of our newer members, Pembrinn, a 'legal consultant' (whatever that is), spoke up. "I fear you're onto something, Bret," he said gravely.

  My suspicion surged. "What are you talking about?" I'm afraid I snapped at him. Anyone might be a Circlist, or in their pay, and this Pembrinn fellow was one of those ambitious, humorless up-and-comers that must make ideal recruit material.

  He spoke calmly enough. "Those men are not Kabun-Zai."

  "How do you know that?"

  He sighed. "This blows my cover, but never mind. I'm a Watch agent - assigned to penetrate the Circles." He held up his hand to quell the instant expressions of surprise. "I specialize in the Trevash Circle, but I know members from several." He nodded at the Display. "Two of those men are of the Zhill Circle, not the Kabun-Zai. The third one, the redhead with the scarred face and power rifle, has been photographed twice, but never apprehended. He's a rogue strikeman, the most putrid assassin on planet, for hire to any Circle. He favors a slug-pistol for close work. He has certainly been engaged to do murder of some sort."

  "So what's going on?" I asked.

  He shrugged. "I can't imagine."

  After a moment, Krimby spoke up. "I can. It's simple, really."

  "I'm listening," I said.

  "The Zhill must be pulling a masquerade to damage the Kabun-Zai. Both Circles are into prostitution and blackmail, are they not? That makes them rivals for, uh, territories, I believe."

  I glanced at Pembrinn, who shrugged. "They're certainly rivals, no doubt about that, but what would they hope to accomplish?"

  Krimby spoke. "Plenty, if it works. If children actually get killed, as we all fear, DiMarco, the new Watch Commander, will take off the gloves, civilian casualties or no. He'll make the Kabun-Zai regret the day they were born. The Mayor'll back him to the hilt. With the Kabun-Zai under siege, and their denials sneered at, the Zhill could go after their territory and 'clients.'"

  My thoughts were blackening. "So the children are doomed. And we can't even summon the Watch; our combat transmitters won't reach Dinnorbinn."

  "They don't carry voice signal, anyway," said Krimby. "Bret, we surely don't want to call the Watch now. If they come, those Circlists will kill the children immediately."

  I snarled, "Shut up!" really hating him, his ridiculous mustache, and his facile, glib logic for a moment. He does research for an engineering firm when he's not a semivirtual pilot. But I can think, too. As I had listened, a notion had burst in my mind like a great mud-bubble. I wanted to resist it, but could not. I knew at once that, without consulting Dram, I would have to talk fifteen men into staking our twins and six other children on it.

  Krimby, who knows me, had forgiven my snarl already. He would have grinned if the occasion were otherwise. "You've thought of something!"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Well?"

  I hesitated. "If we try it, it should be all of us."

  Now he did grin. "We're probably game." He looked at the others, eyebrows high.

  "Quite." "Let's hear it." "Go ahead," said the others.

  "All right," I said.

  I began to outline my notion. As I spoke, I kept seeing the brutal faces of our Circlists on the Display. We presently reached agreement, though there was plenty of contention, and no time to resolve every concern.

  Snapey, as always, had brought along his very expensive semivirtual hovercraft, which he was getting good at flying. Hovers, of course, are much quieter than combat craft, which drone, pop and bang. When we had our program as settled as possible, we sent Pembrinn, the Watch Agent, off in his motor carriage. He was to find a dwelling from which to summon the Watch. Meanwhile, Snapey got his hovercraft activated and linked, and we hung a micro-camera from one of the skids at the end of sixty feet of a pair of landlines. He took off, the camera dangling below him.

  The rest of Blue Squadron topped off with BB-shot and fuel and flew to a point our of earshot, south of the kidnappers' location. There we circled slowly over the trees, to listen to Snapey's reports and play the situation by ear. I was Combat Leader for this operation, with Debblemin sharing Post Vee with Maundel. Snapey oozed over to a point near the kidnappers and let the camera hang down below the treetops.

  "Blue Squadron," said Snapey. "This is Center. I can see what was in those crates: a Jenner Autogyro - a three-man, ultra-light hovercraft – their means of escape, no doubt. They have it assembled, with the propellers folded down. The children are still in place. Two of the Circlists are standing beside the gyro. The third one I don't see. Ah, there he is. He just chambered a round in an ugly little slug-pistol." After a pause, Snapey spoke with a sort of horrified urgency. "Bret, he's approaching the children!"

  I cut in. "We're going in, Blue Squadron. Maximum airspeed; Echelon Up."

  Dreshey's voice sounded. "Hold it, Bret! Are we sure we want to do this? What if we goad them into killing a child? Maybe we should just . . ."

  I hated hearing my own horrors again. "We've had this discussion, Dresh. Pull out if you want. The rest of you: guide on me according to plan. Do it, chaps!"

  I dropped down over the Road (which allowed the other pilots to get safely below the treetops), flew between the trunks, and fed fuel until I was travelling a good three hundred scale miles per hour. I took Face Vee low, to belly-button level, and there they were. Two Circlists, unarmed, were watching, while the third, a power rifle slung over his shoulder was aiming a pistol . . . Yes! He was going to shoot the first child!

  The lout turned round in puzzlement at the inexplicable sound of our approach. The cross-hairs came up nicely, and I pressed the firing stud. Red splotches exploded on his astonished cheeks. He dropped the pistol and clawed at his face. The other two threw up their arms in a spray of blood as the rest of Face Vee opened fire. They dove for the ground, and we were past them and coming round widdershins, threading the tree trunks.

  Krimby with Hub Vee was next. They fairly drove the Circlists into the dirt with a deluge of BB-shot. As Maundel and Debblemin brought in Post Vee, the Circlists leapt to their feet and fled wildly for the deep trees.

  It was impossible to hold station among the confounded drengle-trunks, scale distance or no. Coming in behind Post Vee, I saw the Circlists running in a frenzy, their bare backs streaming with blood. Yelling, I madly fired at them: it was buck fever!

  The Circlists dove among some mossy rocks and covered their heads with their bloody hands. There was an uproar of conversation over the landlines. I activated mine. "Quiet, everyone! Pipe down!" Silence. "Never mind formation now. Just circle and keep them pinned."

  To my acute, not to say hysterical, relief, Stage One was accomplished: the kidnappers were separated from the children. Stage Two was trickier and vaguer. I was to devise some way to get the children out of the area, but they had been taped quite professionally.

  Snapey's voice came over the landline. "Bret, your boy Drent has spotted me. He's gotten to his knees and is looking straight past the camera at me. I don't know what . . ."

  "I'm on my way there," I said.

  Back by the motor-carriages, I put on a little altitude and started to circle slowly. The children were sitting up, all except the first little girl, who must still be in shock from having a pistol pointed at her face. Drent had struggled to his feet. Hearing my aircraft, he looked up and knew at once who it was: I and only I have "Rule, Tutania!" (an obscure play on words) painted across my wing-bottoms. He waved his taped arms at me, then roused another boy. Together they hopped and hobbled over to where the Circlists had been standing, and Drent came up with a knife!

  "The Circlists are trying to get up," said Krimby over the landline.

  "Keep 'em down!" I yelled. Buck fever again.

  "We're doing our best. The one with the weapon is crawling through the undergrowth. It's hard to . . . No!"

  "What is it?"

  "He’s shot me down! I saw him aiming that power rifle at me; he must have blown my aircraft to pieces!"

  "He certai
nly did," Maundel cut in. "Blasted your Valkyrie right out from between her wings. Your hit-light's flashing amidst the wreckage."

  "Thanks," said Krimby bitterly.

  "Pipe down!" I roared. "The rest of you: concentrate on the one with the weapon. Keep him away from the children!"

  Drent and the other boy had cut each other's hands and arms free, then slashed the tape from their legs. Drent freed the remaining children, and Linnea helped the first child to her feet. Abruptly, there was confusion as all of them, including Drent, went behind trees and bushes to relieve themselves. I absolutely could not laugh. Drent led them off when they were done, and I followed. They should have crossed the Road at once, gone to ground in the southern trees, and waited to be rescued. Instead, they went west through the Forest, parallel to the Road, until they stopped and sat down from fatigue.

  A chorus of swearing sounded over the phone lines. "He's broken free!" "Follow him, can't you?" "He's in the underbrush!" "I'm out of BB-shot!"

  Many of the craft, having poured out shot at a prodigious rate, were running low, and the Circlists couldn't help but be aware of it. The one with the weapon, now loose, apparently intended to bag children whatever the cost to himself. I willed Pembrinn to drive faster.

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  4. Reinforcements

  Krimby's voice came over my landline. "Bret! A flight of semivirtual aircraft are circling the mesa! I was linking Pembrinn's Tob to my system to rejoin you,