It had taken the Starflyer’s convoy less than thirty minutes to travel from 3F Plaza to the start of Highway One. Over two dozen additional Range Rover Cruisers had joined it, speeding out of side streets to join the convoy. With that much firepower available to the Starflyer, Stig had no choice but to order the rest of the snipers to stand down. They would have been slaughtered if they’d tried anything.
Stig’s own pursuit had been frustratingly slow, as they waited for other Guardian teams to join with them, on a route parallel to the Starflyer’s. Of course, the civic emergency services were starting to respond to the disaster as best they could by then, which pushed more people and vehicles out onto the roads Stig wanted to use. They’d eventually reached Highway One an hour later only to find the Starflyer convoy had scattered sophisticated mines behind them. The first one had taken out a Ford Shanghi, killing the five Guardians inside. After that, Stig had to order them to drive along the side of the road, avoiding the broad strip of enzyme-bonded concrete, which cut their speed still further.
“Who’s calling us?” Stig asked. He couldn’t think of any other Guardian groups operating around Armstrong City.
Keely’s smile was incredulous. “Bradley Johansson.”
“Not possible,” Stig said curtly, even as his virtual hands snatched the signal out of Keely’s specialist radio array.
“…rendezvous point four,” Bradley’s familiar voice was saying. “We should be there in twenty minutes.”
“Who is this?” Stig demanded.
“Ah, that sounds like you, Stig.”
“Sir?”
“Hey, Stig,” Adam said. “Good to hear from you, lad.”
“Dreaming heavens, you can’t be here.”
“I understand. After you were blown at LA Galactic, you finished up at our Venice safe house. Kazimir was assigned to bring you in.”
“Adam?”
“In the flesh, thankfully. We had a little trouble getting here, I don’t mind saying.”
“How? How can you be here?”
“This isn’t a secure call, Stig, I’ll tell you in a little while at rendezvous point four. Bradley tells me you ought to know where that is.”
“Yes, of course.”
“So if we’re the real deal, we’ll see you there.”
Rendezvous point four was a drainage pumping station a kilometer off the side of Highway One, sixty kilometers outside Armstrong City. There was a service track leading to it, which was unsigned. The station itself was around the back of a small hill, completely out of sight from Highway One.
Stig drove the Mazda Volta himself, ordering everyone else to wait back at the turnoff. As soon as he rounded the bend, he saw the big vehicles parked there, their headlights cutting bright beams through the night. Familiar figures were walking toward him as he parked, smiling broadly. He stumbled out, still not quite believing. Adam caught him in a bear hug.
“Good to see you, lad,” Adam said gruffly.
“Dreaming heavens, we thought you were stuck back there.”
“Hey! You should know, it’s not that easy to keep me penned up.”
“Yeah, but…” Stig broke off as Bradley appeared. “Sir!”
“Good to see you, Stig.”
Stig put his hand out in welcome. Then everything went wrong. Moving between the bright beams of light was a woman in a simple fleece and pants. She had her shoulders hunched, shivering as if she’d got a cold. Then she sneezed, and her dark hair swirled fluidly in Far Away’s gravity. Stig would never forget that elegant, deadly face, not even in the peace of the dreaming heavens. “Look out!” he yelled. His hand went for his holster. He managed to get a machine pistol out, and swung it around.
Adam stood in front of him, an arm chopping around to push Stig’s weapon away. “Stop!”
Stig stumbled back a pace. Both Bradley and Adam were holding their hands up in admonishment. Several of the other people standing outside the vehicles, whom Stig didn’t know, were tensed up.
“That’s Paula Myo,” he yelled.
“Good evening,” she said calmly, then shivered again, and pulled her fleece tighter, arms crossed in front of her chest.
“But—”
“We have allies now,” Bradley said. There was no trace of mockery in his voice.
“Paula Myo?”
“Among others, such as Nigel Sheldon, oh, and I’m sure you remember Admiral Kime.”
Wilson stepped forward. “That’s actually ex-Admiral now. Pleased to meet you, Stig.”
“Uh.” Stig’s pistol hung limply at his side.
“Oh, yes,” Adam said, and the shadows made it difficult to see if that was a smirk on his face. “I almost forgot: Mellanie says to say hello.”
Stig couldn’t help it. He leaned a little closer, just to be sure. “Paula Myo?”
“The very same,” Bradley said. “Come now, Stig, tell me what the situation is.”
Stig allowed himself to be led over to the cluster of vehicles. Just as he started to tell Bradley about using a fuel air bomb he looked over his shoulder to check again. Paula Myo was hugging her chest quite tightly, as if she was in pain; a concerned-looking Wilson Kime was asking if she was all right. Somehow, seeing her on Far Away was more extraordinary than his blurred glimpse of the Starflyer itself.
Adam and Bradley made their plans quickly as Stig explained what had happened at First Foot Fall Plaza. The three Volvo trucks with their precious cargo for the planet’s revenge project would immediately head due south for the Dessault Mountains to rendezvous with the technical teams assembling the wind stations. Adam would head the group, taking Kieran, Rosamund, and Jamas with him to drive, despite their eagerness to join the fray pursuing the Starflyer. Paula announced she would accompany Adam, which he greeted without comment. Wilson, Anna, and Oscar agreed to stay with Paula, and see if they could help with the technical aspects of the planet’s revenge. Privately, Wilson was growing concerned about how unwell the Investigator appeared.
Bradley was going to lead the rest in pursuit of the Starflyer, spearheading it with all three armored cars. Cat’s Claws and the Paris team signed up to go with him. Both he and Stig thought their combat experience and weaponry would give the Guardians a significant advantage over the more lightly armored Institute troops.
That just left them with Qatux. Tiger Pansy had listened and watched without comment as the two teams were sorted out. Now she said, “We should go with Bradley.”
“If you wish,” Bradley said.
“Sure do,” Tiger Pansy agreed enthusiastically. “Starflyer’s pulling ahead of you. That makes for a tough chase, and when you do catch up, there’s going to be a big fight. You Guardian guys, you’re gonna go berserk, you’re all so committed and inspired; it’s like a religion. Qatux really digs that. This is where the human heat is at, so we stick with it.” She glanced over at Adam. “No offense.”
“You do understand, dear lady, we cannot guarantee your personal safety in this fight?” Bradley said.
Tiger Pansy chewed her gum for a moment before pulling a long face. “Yeah, I figured that. But face it, I ain’t got much of a life to lose, here, do I? Mellanie got me to update my secure store before we left; I just edited most of this time around out of it.”
“Each and every human life is priceless.”
“You’re really cute, you know that.”
***
It was one of those mornings where Mark hadn’t fully woken up, that moment of cozy drowsiness when you’re in a warm bed with the woman you love lying snuggled up against you. He moved his head fractionally, nuzzling Liz fondly. She pressed herself closer to him, then they kissed in a languid unhurried fashion. Hands stroked. He began to pull off his T-shirt. Liz rose up to straddle him, still wearing her negligée, the new one of semiorganic fabric that mimicked black silk. The way it grew translucent as her body heated and her movements became more urgent was a huge turn-on for him. She’d exploited that to the full last night, which was why he was so drowsy as dawn broke.