The Peace War (33 page)

They drove like this for more than an hour. Where were the checkpoints? The road
ahead still rose. They passed dozens of parked tanks, their crews working at mysterious
tasks. Someone was fueling up. The smell of fuel came into the cramped hole along with
the dust and the noise.

All was in shadow now. But finally Wili thought he could see part of the garrison. At
least there was a building on the crest they were approaching. He remembered what
things looked like from above. Most of the garrison's buildings were on the far side of the
crest. Only a few positions — for observation and direct fire-were on this side.

Wili wondered what sort of armor they had back there now, considering what he was
seeing on this side.

Wili and Mike traded time at the peephole as the spot on the horizon grew larger. The
outpost sat like a huge boulder mostly submerged in the earth. There were slots cut in the
armor, and he could see guns or lasers within. Wili was reminded of some of the
twentieth-century fantasies Bill Morales liked to watch. These last few days — and
hopefully the next few as well were like Lucas'
Lord of the Rings.
Mike had even called
Mission Pass the "front door" last night. Beyond these mountains (actually low hills) lay
the "Great Enemy's" ultimate redoubt. The mountains hid enemy underlings that watched
for the hobbits or elves (or Tinkers) who must sneak through to the plains beyond, who
must go right into the heart of evil and perform some simple act that would bring victory.

The similarity went further. This enemy had a supreme weapon (the big bobbler hidden
in the Valley), but instead depended on earthly servants (the tanks and the troops) to do
the dirty work. The Peacers hadn't bobbled anything for the last three days. That was a
mystery, though Wili and Paul suspected the Authority was building up energy reserves
for the battle they saw coming.

Ahead of them, civilian traffic stopped at a checkpoint. Wili couldn't see exactly what
was happening, but one by one some slowly, some quickly — the wagons and freighters
passed through. Finally their turn came. He heard Paul climb down from the driver's seat.
A couple of Peacers approached. Both were armed, but they didn't seem especially tense.
Twilight was deep now, and he could barely make out the color in their uniforms. The
sky came down to the near horizon that was the crest of the Pass. The Earth's shadow,
projected into the sky, made a dark wall beyond them. One soldier carried a long metal
pole. Some kind of weapon?

Paul hurried up from the back wagon. For a moment all three stood in Wili's field of
view. The troopers glanced at Paul and then up at where Allison was sitting. They
obviously realized the two wagons were together. "Watcha got here, uncle?" asked the
older of them.

"Bananas," Naismith replied unnecessarily. "You want some? My granddaughter and
I've got to get them to Livermore before they spoil."

"I have bad news for you, then. Nothing's getting through here for a while." The three
walked out of sight, back along the wagon.

"What?" Paul's voice rose, cracked. He was a better actor than Wili would have
guessed. "B-but what's going on here? I'll lose business."

The younger soldier sounded sincerely apologetic. "We can't help it, sir. If you had
followed the news, you'd know the enemies of Peace are on the move again. We're
expecting an attack almost any time. Those damn Tinkers are going to bring back the bad
old days."

"Oh no!" The anguish in the old man's voice seemed a compound of his personal
problems and this new forecast of doom.

There was the sound of side curtains being dragged off the wagon. "Hey, Sarge, these
things aren't even ripe."

"That's right," said Naismith. "I have to time things so when I arrive they'll be just
ready to sell... Here. Take a couple, officer."

"Um, thanks." Wili could imagine the Peacer holding a clump of bananas, trying to
figure what to do with them. "Okay, Hanson, do your stuff." There was a rasping and a
probing. So that's what the metal pole was. Both Wili and Miguel Rosas held their breath.
Their hiding space was small, and it was covered with webbed padding. It could probably
deceive a sonic probe. What about this more primitive search?

"It's clean."

"Okay. Let's look at your other wagon."

They walked to the forward wagon, the one that contained the bobbler and most of the
storage cells. Their conversation faded into the general din of the checkpoint. Allison
climbed down from her driver's seat and stood where Wili could see her.

Minutes passed. The band of shadow across the eastern sky climbed, became diffuse.
Twilight moved toward night.

Electric lamps flashed on. Wili gasped. He had seen miraculous electronics these last
months, but the sudden sheer power of those floodlights was as impressive as any of it.
Every second they must eat as much electricity as Naismith's house did in a week.

Then he heard Paul's voice again. The old man had taken on a whining tone, and the
trooper was a bit more curt than before. "Look, mister, l didn't decide to bring war here.
You should count yourself lucky that you have any sort of protection from these
monsters. Maybe things will blow over in time for you to save the load. For now, you're
stuck. There's a parking area up ahead, near the crest. We have some latrines fixed there.
You and your granddaughter can stay overnight, then decide if you want to stick it out or
turn back... Maybe you could sell part of the load in Fremont."

Paul sounded defeated, almost dazed. "Yes, sir. Thanks for your help. Do as he says,
Allison dear."

The wagons creaked forward, blue-white light splashing all around them like magic
rain. From across the tiny hiding place, Wili heard the whisper of chuckle.

"Paul is really good. Now I wonder if all his whining last night was some sort of
reverse whammy to get our spirits up."

Horse-drawn wagons and Authority freighters alike had parked in the big lot near the
crest of the Pass. There were some electric lamps, but compared to the checkpoint it was
almost dark. A good many people were stuck here overnight. Most of them milled around
by cooking fires at the middle of the lot. The far end was dominated by the squat dome
they had seen from far down the highway. Several armored vehicles were parked in front
of it; they faced into the civilians.

The armored traffic on the highway had virtually ceased. For the first time in hours
there was an absence of clank and turbines.

Paul came back around the side of the wagon. He and Allison adjusted the side curtains.
Paul complained loudly to Allison about the disaster that had befallen them, and she
was
dutifully quiet. A trio of freighter drivers walked by. As they passed out of earshot,
Naismith said quietly. "Wili, we're going to have to risk a hookup. I've connected you
with the gear in the front wagon. Allison has pulled the narrow-beam antenna out of the
bananas. I want contact with our... friends. We're going to need help to get any closer."

Wili grinned in the dark. It was a risk-but one he'd been aching to take. Sitting in this
hole without processors was like being deaf, dumb, and blind. He attached the scalp
connector and powered up.

There was a moment of disorientation as Jill and he meshed with the satellite net. Then
he was looking out a dozen new eyes, listening on hundreds of Peacer comm channels. It
would take him a little longer to contact the Tinkers. After all, they were humans.

A bit of his awareness still hung in their dark hiding place. With his true ears, Wili
heard a car roar off the highway and park at the Peacer dome. The armor at the far end of
the lot came to life. Something important was happening right here. Wili found a camera
aboard the armor that could transmit to the satellite net. He looked out: The car's driver
had jumped out and come to attention. Far across the lot, he could see civilians —
somewhere among them Paul and Allison — turn to watch. He felt Mike crawl across him
to look out the peephole. Wili juggled the viewpoints, at the same time continuing his
efforts to reach the Tinkers, at the same time searching Authority RAM for the cause of
the current commotion.

A door opened at the base of the Peacer station. White light spread from it across the
asphalt. A Peacer was outlined in the doorway. A second followed him. And between
them... a child? Someone small and slender, anyway. The figure stepped out of the larger
shadows and looked across the parking lot. Light glinted off the black helmet of short cut
hair. He heard Mike suck in a breath.

It was Della Lu.

Staff seemed satisfied with the preparations; even Avery accepted the plans.

Della Lu was not so happy. She looked speculatively at the stars on the shoulder of the
perimeter commander. The officer looked back with barely concealed truculence. He
thought he was tough. He thought she was more nonprofessional interference.

But she knew he was soft. All these troops were. They hadn't ever been in a real fight.

Lu considered the map he had displayed for her. As she, through Avery, had required,
the armored units were being dispersed into the hills. Except for a few necessary and
transient concentrations, the Tinkers would have to take them out a vehicle at a time. And
satellite intelligence assured them that the enemy attack was many hours away, that the
infiltrators weren't anywhere near the net of armor.

She pointed to the Mission Pass command post. "I see you stopped all incoming traffic.
Why have them park so close to your command point here? A few of those people must
be Tinker agents."

The general shrugged. "We inspected the vehicles four thousand meters down the road.
That's beyond the range the intelligence people give for the enemy's homemade bobbler.
Where we have them now, we can keep them under close watch and interrogate them
more conveniently."

Della didn't like it. If even a single generator slipped through, this command post
would be lost. Still, with the main attack at least twenty-four hours away, it might be safe
to sit here a bit longer. There was time perhaps to go Tinker hunting in that parking area.
Anybody they caught would probably be important to the enemy cause. She stepped back
from the map display. "Very well, General, let's take a look at these civilians. Get your
intelligence teams together. It's going to be a long night for them.

"In the meantime, I want you to move your command and control elements over the
ridgeline. When things start happening, they'll be much safer in mobiles."

The officer looked at her for a moment, probably wondering just who she was sleeping
with to give such orders. Finally he turned and spoke to a subordinate.

He glanced back at Della. "You want to be present at the interrogations?"

She nodded. "The first few, anyway. I'll pick them for you."

The parking-lot detention area was several hundred meters on a side. It looked almost
like a fairground. Diesel freighters loomed over small horse-drawn carts and wagons. The
truckers had already started fires. Some of their voices were almost cheerful. The delay
by itself didn't worry them; their businesses were internal to the Authority and they stood
to be reimbursed.

Lu walked past the staff car the general had ordered for them. The officer and his aides
tagged along, uncertain what she would do next. She wasn't sure yet either, but once she
got the feel of the crowd...

If she were Miguel Rosas, she'd figure out some way to hijack one of the Peace
Authority freighters. There was enough volume in a freighter to hide almost anything the
Tinkers might make. Hmm. But the drivers generally knew each other and could
probably recognize each other's rigs. The Tinkers would have to park their freighter away
from the others, and avoid socializing. She and her entourage drifted through the
shadows beyond the fires.

The freighters were clumped together; none was parked apart. That left the non-Peacer
civilians. She turned away from the freighters and walked down a row of wagons. The
people were ordinary enough: more than half in their fifties and sixties, the rest young
apprentices. They did look uneasy — they stood to lose a lot of money if they had to stay
here long-but there was little fear. They still believed the Authority's propaganda. And
most of them were food shippers. None of their own people had been bobbled in the
purges she had supervised the last few weeks. From somewhere over the hill she heard
choppers. The intelligence crews would be here shortly.

Then she saw the banana wagons. They could only be from the Vandenberg area. No
matter what intelligence was saying nowadays, she still thought Middle California was
the center of the infestation. An old man and a woman about Lu's own age stood near the
wagons. She felt tiny alarm bells going off.

Behind Della, the helicopters were landing. Dust blew cool and glowing around her.
The choppers' lights cast her group's shadow toward the pair by the banana wagons. The
old man raised his hand to shade his eyes; the woman just looked at them. There was
something strange about her, a straightness in her posture, almost a soldier's bearing. For
all that the other was tall and Caucasian, Della felt she was seeing someone very like
herself.

Della clapped the general's arm, and when he turned to her she shouted over the sounds
of blades and turbines, "I have some prime suspects-"

"The bitch! Is she some kind of mind reader?" Mike watched Lu's progress across the
wide field. She still wasn't coming directly toward them, but edged slowly closer, like
some cautious huntress. Mike cursed quietly. They seemed doomed at every step to face
her and be bested by her.

The field grew bright; shadows shifted and lengthened. Choppers. Three of them. Each
craft carried twin lamps hung below the cockpit. Lu's wolves, eyes glowing, settled down
behind their mistress.