“Then we heard someone call out, in English, ‘Isolation is open!’ We heard running footsteps, and then a hand at the door.
“Without an instant’s hesitation, Katya shot the man we had just freed. He fell to the floor never having fully stood, his limbs slowly drawing themselves back into the posture of the cage, as a scroll, let go, curls back into its native state.
“As the door opened, she called out in her unaccented English, ‘We have shot the escapee! Hold your fire! We’re coming out!’
“The guards still looked suspicious, but she overwhelmed their doubts with anger. ‘Which one of you deserted this post? Well, I suggest you find whoever did and put him in that little hotel you’re running—I’ve just opened up a vacancy. While you people were watching the fireworks, someone went in there and started arming the prisoners. And from what I’ve seen of your security, I think a cripple with a .45 could have limped right out of here under all your noses. Do any of you want to argue with that?’
“Her tenuous invention hung a moment in the air. It would be challenged, I was sure; this was the end. A guard opened his mouth—
“And reinforced the fragile structure. ‘That’s a flamethrower,’ he said. ‘You think that’s the man that burned the stables?’
“Katya hesitated, tempted. But the idea was too ridiculous to hold up. She took a breath and blustered:
“‘No, I do not think a naked cripple made it up the hill, nor do I think he came all the way back here just so he could be discovered in the place he left. Are there any more stupid questions?’
“There were not. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Then get on the radio and tell anyone who hasn’t already guessed that the light show you’ve been staring at was no accident. This Stonie didn’t do it, but whoever armed him did. And when you’ve done that, call up Commander Sinclair for me and tell him I’m done playing soldier. Tell him the girl he used to read Alice in Wonderland to is ready to go home.’
“I had to, she said through our radio link as the guards stared. They would have killed us and put him back in that thing. I didn’t have any choice.
“I know, I told her. You didn’t do a thing wrong. You don’t have anything to feel guilty about.
“Yes, it was a most commendable murder, she said. But I knew her: she would find a way to hold back grief until we were safely out. It was not in her to lose control.
“Five minutes later the camp commander, Katya’s ‘Uncle Eddie,’ drove up with a worried look on his face. ‘Kitty?’ he said. ‘It is you—what are you doing here?’
“‘Oh, Father wanted me to see the glorious workings of the Guardian cleansing machine or something like that. Honestly, to hear the man talk, you’d think the Square Miles were a dishwasher. All I’ve seen is a bunch of Zaks and Stonies, and some stupid guards who’re too busy watching the fire to notice them escaping.’
“‘Why on earth didn’t I know you were here?’
“‘I was supposed to be just like any other guard. He didn’t want me to get the executive tour or be coddled. He wanted me to see what it’s really like.’ Her face lit up. ‘And I sure did that, didn’t I! I shot a prisoner! Father’s going to be ever so proud!’
“‘He certainly will, Kitty, but right now we’ve got to get you out of here. It isn’t safe.’
“‘But we haven’t got a ride! We weren’t supposed to leave for three more days. Can you take us?’
“‘I’ll get a couple of the guards to take you.’
“‘Oh, God, you must be kidding. Those idiots? That prisoner couldn’t even walk, and I still had to do him myself because those incompetents couldn’t keep track of him. Honestly, I can’t believe you’d leave me to them. Can’t you take us yourself, Uncle Eddie?’
“‘Kitty, I have armed people loose in the camp—’
“‘Well, we’ll just wait in your office till they’re found, that’s all. Come on, Eddie, you don’t have to take us to our dorm, just as far as Father’s house. It’s only a few miles. Father’ll be mad if you don’t.’ A spark of shrewdness lit her disingenuous eyes, and she whispered: ‘We don’t have to tell him about the break-in, you know.’
“Edward Sinclair, the commander of the third or fourth most efficient killing factory in the world, closed his eyes in amused irritation. ‘All right, then. Get in. I never could say no to you.’
“Can’t say no to making a hero’s entrance at the Heptarch’s house, he means, the old hypocrite, Katya said, starting toward the truck.
“‘Put your guns on the rack, kids,’ he said, ‘and be sure you unload them first. We don’t want them going off if we hit a pothole.’
“Katya complied. We climbed into the enormous pickup truck, Sinclair giving her a hand up.
“‘Who’s your friend?’ he asked her as I climbed in numbly.
“‘Paul Wintermute. He’s a ninth cousin or something. Don’t make him talk to you, it’s cruel—he’s never seen anyone die before and he’s trying really hard not to throw up.’
“I understood: if I spoke, my accent would give everything away. The Heptarch’s daughter could not associate with a Russian.
“‘And be a love and don’t tell anyone I’m here. Father made me promise.’
“We waited in his office for an hour, with a guard watching over us, until Sinclair returned to tell us that the intruders must have escaped.
“He knows we’ve been here, I said as we were waved past the guard station out onto the highway. Sooner or later he’ll tell someone who can put two and two together.
“No, he won’t, Katya said matter-of-factly, her eyes searching the cab of the truck. She looked down between our feet; found a red metal bar with a bifurcated tip that was lying on the floor. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, picking it up.
“‘It goes on the steering wheel,’ Sinclair said absently. ‘I use it to keep the truck from being stolen if I have to go into town.’
“‘Good idea,’ Katya said, nodding vigorously. ‘Those Russians’ll steal anything.’ She idly laid the bar across her lap, resting one hand on it.
“‘What are those cells we saw for, Uncle Eddie?’ she asked. ‘Are they politicals?’
“‘They’re the worst politicals, honey. The most dangerous.’
“She snorted. ‘Not anymore they’re not. The man I shot could barely stand.’ She leaned against Sinclair and laid her head on his shoulder. ‘I’ve missed you, Uncle Eddie. Remember when you used to come over every weekend, and talk to my father about all the funny things that happened at the camp? When I was little I wanted to be exactly like you.’
“He took his eyes off the road just long enough to glance at her with fondness. ‘You are a lot like me and your father, Katya. You keep your head under pressure and you’re not squeamish about things dying.’
“You bet I’m not, she thought grimly.
“Katya, don’t.
“Of course I will, she said. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Piotr should have made me do this in the first place, if it weren’t for his idiot chivalry.
“Please, I said. Let me do it. He’s no one to me, just another Guardian. It won’t hurt me the way it’ll hurt you.
“You’re right, she said. He’s no one to you. That’s why I’m the one that has to do it. He and my father talked genocide the way other men talk football. He taught me to admire every form of atrocity when I was still wearing drop-drawer pajamas. If you killed him he’d die like anybody. When I kill him he’ll die as the monster he is. This is the man I was born to kill.