The soldier gulped into silence. Mark nodded with a slight smile.
"This is very handsome of you," Finch said in amazement. "I assure you that from the position of responsibility I expect to reach on Zenith, I'll do everything I can to help you folk on Greenwood."
"I'm sure you will," said Amy. "After all, you're already committed to insuring that Zenith drops any claim to rule Greenwood, aren't you? As well as voiding your syndicate's private claims."
"Of course, of course," Finch agreed. "There can't be any doubt about that!"
Raiders looked at one another in puzzlement. They obviously couldn't believe that Amy would take the Zenith's word for even the time of day. Finch himself was probably just as surprised as the Greenwoods were, but he was a politician and therefore used to hiding the truth.
Finch looked around. "It would help, I think, if a few of your militia were in the frame appearing to follow me. Those six should be enough," he added, pointing to Dagmar Wately and the Greenwoods standing closest to her.
Maybe Finch chose that group because they looked particularly rugged and hard-bitten. So far as Mark could see, there wasn't a soul in the raiding party who wouldn't have sent citizens scurrying for cover on any street in Quelhagen.
Dagmar glared and said, "I think it'd help if you'd kiss my-"
"Now, now," boomed Yerby. "We're going to do just like Finchie here says. I wonder, Colonel… would you like me to trot along behind you myself? Following your example, I mean. I won't hog your spotlight on this one."
"Why yes, Bannock," Finch said. "And I won't forget your help, either."
"Don't reckon you will," Yerby agreed in a neutral tone.
"I don't see why we got to help this fellow do any blessed thing!" Zeb Randifer complained. "You know he's just going to cheat us once he don't need us no more!"
Yeah!/Too right!/Damn straight! were specific variations Mark heard of the agreement almost every raider expressed.
"No, Yerby's right," Mark said. "This thing we're about to do guarantees that Colonel Finch will make sure Zenith gives up its claim to Greenwood, whatever that costs him personally."
"And anyhow," Yerby added, turning his head so that his gaze swept every member of the raiding party, "I'm giving the orders. Right?"
"Now, Colonel," Mark said. "Aim your repeller directly at the lock plate. Blow it off, then hit the door with your shoulder at full speed so that you burst into the room. And remember, get it right the first time because you won't have another chance."
"I think I'm capable of handling this without your help, my man," Finch said with a sniff.
He pulled back his repeller's cocking handle, charging the weapon. The pellets were no bigger than unpopped popcorn grains, but when the repeller's electromagnetic coils accelerated them to many times the speed of sound their impact was as devastating as so many lightning bolts.
"Make sure you just shoot the door, Colonel," Yerby said. "The beads won't ricochet, they'll just blow up and do no harm. But if you hit the concrete-" He patted the corridor wall. "-a piece might fly out big enough to hurt somebody. Understood?"
"Yes, all right," Finch said. "May we get on with it?"
"I want everyone but the actors back twenty feet behind me," Amy said briskly. "Colonel Finch, run to within a few feet of the door, pause, and look over your shoulder so that I get a clear view of your face. You can shout something to your men. Then shoot the lock off and batter the door down to show exactly how much of a hero you are."
Finch scowled. He didn't like being lectured, especially by a young woman, but he didn't object aloud. He was smart enough to realize both that Amy was right and that he was dependent on her to record his actions.
"Are we ready?" he said in a less demanding tone.
"You bet we are, Colonel!" Yerby said, clapping Finch on the back. Mark unslung his gas gun and joined the group of bemused Greenwoods.
"Action!" said Amy.
"Come on, men!" Finch shouted. He ran down the corridor with the raiders stumping along behind him. Arm's length from the door, Finch turned to face the camera. Mark hunched so that he wouldn't block Amy's view, "Zenith and freedom!"
Finch pointed his repeller and held the trigger down for almost five seconds, emptying the thousand-round magazine. The crack of each multisonic pellet merged with the whack! of the shot when it hit the door. The racket was as echoingly loud as a saw cutting the whole fortress in halves.
The latch vanished in bright roaring sparks like a high-amperage electrical short. The stream of pellets ate a black hole in the plastic panel as if it was still hungry for a solid surface after the lock was gone.
"Follow me!" Finch cried as his shoulder hit the door and he lurched into the room beyond. His momentum carried him into the board that served as the latrine's seat. He broke it and plunged into the eight-foot hole in the floor.
"Holy sh-" Finch screamed.
There was a loud plop. A brown geyser spouted above the floor and sank back.
The Greenwoods crowding forward behind Finch stopped dead as though the horrible stench were a brick wall. Mark had known what to expect, so he'd held his breath, but his eyes started to water.
Yerby stepped into the converted pump room. "I don't guess I've ever been taken for a coward," he said, "but I'll tell the world I never done a braver thing in my life than this."
He bent over the hole. When he straightened again, he held Colonel Berkeley Finch dangling by the collar. Yerby walked into the hall, keeping the dripping, sputtering Zenith out at arm's length.
Almost everyone in the corridor, raiders and prisoners alike, dissolved in helpless laughter. Amy moved to the other side of the scene so that she could record Finch together with the spectators laughing at him.
"But you know," Captain Easton said sadly, "with proper preparation, it makes a really wonderful fertilizer."
"Don't worry, Colonel Finch," Amy called from behind her camera. "You'll get the only copy of this recording just as soon as the government of Zenith declares Greenwood to be a free and independent world."
Mark hugged the Alliance commandant. "Captain," he said, "believe me, your fertilizer has done more good for the whole planet of Greenwood than it could possibly have done for your plants!"
38. Next
Lucius Maxwell was the first man to disembark from the freighter Stellar Conveyor when it arrived at the military port on Dittersdorf Minor from Hestia. Four more starships waited in orbit for landing instructions.
Amy hadn't completely catalogued the heavy weapons warehouse in the bowels of the fort, but she'd guessed it would fill at least twenty vessels the size of the Stellar Conveyor, or over a hundred tramps like the ones trading to Greenwood. The Atlantic Alliance had saved money and effort by storing equipment on the frontier instead of shipping it home at the end of the Proxy Wars.
Now, twenty years later, the Alliance had to pay for that savings. The price would be their whole interstellar empire.
Mark waited at the bottom of the boarding ramp. There wasn't an official delegation to greet the reinforcements, but about half the raiders were standing around out of curiosity. Amy recorded events; Yerby's smile was one of real warmth.
Colonel Finch was present also, wearing his dress uniform. Nobody made a pointed comment, but he blushed whenever a Greenwood looked hard at him.