“You do it well by all accounts.”
“You are too kind. I just want to do better and more.” She shrugged. “What is your ambition, Sam?”
“Same as yours, I think. I like the idea of making life better for folks.”
“And you do that by robbing them blind at poker?”
I smiled. “Well, sometimes you have to make them look at what they value, and encourage them to take steps to preserve or abandon same. How well you react to adversity reveals the strength of your character. Some folks turn out to be stronger than they think.”
“And the others?”
“They’re a headstone shy of discovering they’ve got nothing.”
I left Bianca with Quam and returned to the Grand Germayne. I placed a call to the cutout and within two hours of my return I was sitting in a nondescript bar with Gypsy. I filled him in on relevant details of the weekend, then quickly outlined a strike. We organized the operation swiftly that night and then, the next evening, we executed it flawlessly.
The Heights district of Manville was located in the southeast quadrant. It had grown up around the Germayne palace and featured some of the finest homes in the city. Because these homes were built on the sides of hills well above the level of the rivers, water was pumped up to the tops of the hills to reservoirs, then gravity served to provide suitable water pressure to deal with the citizenry’s needs.
Our operation consisted of three separate actions. The first involved setting fire to the wooden framing for a seventy-four-thousand-square-decimeter mansion on Beryl Road. While rain had soaked the wood, suitable application of accelerant started a merry blaze that was visible from most of the city. An alarm immediately went out and fire crews from two station houses reported to fight the blaze.
The second stage of the operation, in which I participated directly, involved the blowing of two pumping stations that sent water up to the reservoirs. Bolt cutters got us through the lock holding the gate shut. A code-cutter used some arcane device to pull the lock code from the pump house door, then fed it back and got us inside. We rigged explosives to both the pump, since replacing it would be tough, and the pipe on the downhill side of things.
Once we’d wired our station, the team and I pulled out and blew it. Because it was night, it was possible to see a tiny flash, but even in the news Tri-Vid of the fire coverage, the explosions of the pump houses are barely noticeable. The effect of the explosions, however, aside from requiring the replacement of two relatively expensive pumps, was to have a lot of water gushing around. The water cut through a roadway and gnawed the foundation of another mansion.
Because we couldn’t possibly hide the damage to the pump houses, we decided to go for a trifecta and also blew up one of the two firehouses from whence the firefighters had responded. The team that took it out stole a liquefied natural gas hovertruck, drove it through the closed garage door, then detonated it after the crew had gotten clear.
Now that explosion showed up very well on a Tri-Vid. It leveled the building and left the wreckage burning brightly. The blackened skeleton of the hovertruck, with the ribs of its skirts looking like cilia on some twisted insect, was impressive. To make the whole thing a bit more complicated, the first fire was drawing enough water out of the fire hydrants that the company fighting the firehouse blaze had a tough time getting suitable pressure.
Because news organizations were putting out reports as fast as they could field rumors, and because the fires could be seen from elsewhere in the city, the media went into high gear. Pundits claimed everything from it being an accident to the work of subversive Clan agents bent on completing the conquest of the Inner Sphere. Newscasters started by being very grave about the goings on, but when the majority of damage was limited to buildings that put no one out of their homes, they grew calmer.
The citizenry had a variety of reactions, all captured and broadcast live over multiple channels. What played very well was Tri-Vid of rich Heights residents who had low water pressure using buckets to harvest water from their pools. Their panic over not being able to water their flowers, or having to shut off their interior waterfall features pointed up how out of touch they were. While some newsies did note that the lack of fresh water could become a health concern, even they cracked a smile when watching Tri-Vid of a doyen in a sequined gown kneeling at the edge of a pool and drinking alongside her two lapping hounds.
The people in the street felt some vindication as barely a week before they’d been unhomed by a catastrophe that had left the rich untouched and decidedly unsympathetic. Some people did fill up jugs of water and run them up to the Heights in neighborly gestures, but a lot of others just sneered. As one man pointed out, “They’re worrying about water on a world where, in another fifteen minutes, it’ll be pouring so hard you can’t see three meters in front of your face. It’s not a desert.”
The Germayne government fared very badly, since the Count and many of his Ministers happened to be ensconced at the Emblyn Palace when the disaster struck. Ring immediately jetted back and did what he could to help out. He arrived two hours before the Count, and rumors had it that Hector had waited until someone could hunt Bernard and Teyte down in a Capellan brothel in Contressa and sober them up. One news-wag noted that Bernard had “diddled while his home burned,” and everyone who caught the allusion to Nero agreed it was on point.
Bernard just found the word “diddled” entertaining.
The government did point out that the three events were related and clearly were acts of terrorism. Linkage was made with the whole sewer system problem, again citing the blown gates there. The forensics folks did aptly point out that the same explosive was used, and that the placement pointed to professionals, but government critics turned around and suggested that the government was behind the second set of attacks, to bolster the claims they had made about the first, and to elicit sympathy for the rich. The fact that so many of the well-to-do in the government were at the Emblyn Palace did make the idea of a government conspiracy sound good.
And, as one commoner put it, “How come we had to clean up stuff, and they’re just reduced to drinking their bottled water and their wine? Where’s the justice in that?”
Bianca and Emblyn came off as the big winners in the whole aftermath. Emblyn had his own crews come and help make repairs to the pumping stations. He even brought in a pump that was supposed to be used at the Emblyn Palace to make a fountain. Since the Palace’s reception had been part of the shake-out month and the place had another six weeks before opening, the sacrifice was not that huge, but the symbol endeared him to many folks.
Bianca won because of the news angle of one of the rich doing things for her beleaguered brethren, especially when they were the ones normally giving to charity. Many were the rich who, upon receipt of a case of bottled water, waxed eloquent on the nature of The Republic, and how charity was so appropriate for the citizenry. They said they would give more and do more, and many even volunteered to help the Foundation do the sweaty work of delivering things to others less fortunate than they—by which they meant those living lower down.
Throughout it all, Bianca was gracious and positive. She credited the hard work of the volunteers and some very generous donations she’d gotten that weekend as the reasons things were going so smoothly. Newsies had a hard time keeping up with her, and she really did appear to be in her element, which brought a smile to my face.
LIT was working better than I expected, primarily because we picked the right targets and had the benefit of timing. Resentment over Bernard’s actions and the Count’s policies toward the poor had already started things simmering. This just brought it out into the open. The next strike would have to be against an economic target, like JPG. At least, that was the plan.