“How dangerous will that be,” Adela asked, “as far as current seismic activity is concerned? Will you be able to handle it?”
The Speaker shrugged worriedly. “We’re not sure. There’s no doubt that there will be an increase in minor tremors, mostly in the interior sections, but there shouldn’t be any major threat. No major pressure buildups have been recorded for nearly two years, and we should be able to reroute a number of the stations to working control groupings to handle the minor ones, but…” He paused. “In any event, it’ll take a long time to get them all.” He looked up from the terminal and into the screen. “We could use help.”
“You’ll have it,” Montero replied. “Just let me know what you need.”
“Are you sure, Speaker?” The officer looked Kip Salera over with eyes that glowed with—what? The other officer seated next to him, a Major, mirrored the expression of his superior. There were others in Salera’s office at the former Dominion Capitol, most of them military personnel. The only exception was Representative Blakert.
There is excitement in your face, young soldier, Salera thought, studying the man’s face. You fear the battle you know is coming, and yet you rush headlong to join it. The man stood stiffly before his desk, his breathing fast with anticipation even though he was trying hard to keep his emotions hidden. How long had it been since he’d felt that intoxicating mix of foreboding combined with an undeniable longing that drove you on despite your best efforts at self-reason? He’d felt something similar at the final Joint Dominion, but even that could not compare with what he knew—from remembrances long past—was flowing through the man’s body right now. The officer fidgeted slightly as he awaited the Speaker’s reply.
“Yes, I’m certain of it, Colonel Harston. They would be stupid to attack with anything that might damage the stations themselves. If they mount an offensive at all, it will be with light weaponry. As for the starship…” Salera paused, gnawing momentarily on a lower lip. “I’m told that Commander Montero is sending armed personnel and equipment to help them with their efforts to take Leeper off-line, for all the good that’ll do them, but the good Commander himself will take a hands-off attitude until things are settled here, one way or another.”
“And after?” Blakert asked.
Salera glared once at Blakert, then regarded the Colonel, still standing before him. “You’re dismissed.” Harston snapped to attention, his officers following suit, and exited Salera’s office immediately.
“And what about after, Speaker?”
Salera rose, crossing slowly to the large window overlooking the front of the building. Hundreds of troops were gathered on the long tree-lined parkade, awaiting their turn for the transport shuttles to take them to their assignments. As he watched, a steady stream of twenty-man shuttles landed in a cleared area on the far end of the parkade and almost immediately took off again as they filled up. “The deployment is going smoothly,” he said without turning. “The shuttles are barely on the ground more than a few moments before returning to the air. They’re well trained, all of them. Oh, did you know that I have a daughter in the Guard?”
Blakert went to the window and, ignoring the bustle of activity going on just a few hundred meters below them, asked again, “What about after?”
Speaker Salera didn’t answer.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The man is crazy, Adela said to herself, dragging the back of an arm across her dripping forehead. Only a few hours past dawn, and already it’s unbearable out here. The lightweight hot-weather uniform consisting of roomy khaki shorts and matching shirt helped somewhat, but she was constantly grateful that the humidity was as low as it was. She glanced at her watch and tapped at its diminutive screen, cycling through the various functions until finding the one she wanted. Thirty-nine degrees, and it’s not even local noon yet. He really has lost it. Louder, she called, “Hey! You’re crazy, you know that?”
Woorunmarra ignored her, his attention fixed on something moving just above the horizon. The object circled back toward them and as it got nearer Woorunmarra began sprinting silently across the landscape toward it. In spite of his surprising speed, he was still several meters away when the thing hit the ground, tumbling crazily as it bounced along the surface. He scooped it up on the run, laughing giddily at the top of his lungs, and doubled back to stand before her again.
“Nah,” he said, barely winded, “it feels just like home.” He looked around him as if trying to decide which direction to throw the boomerang again, then added, “It’s just a lot greener.”
Adela followed his gaze. The surrounding countryside near station 67 was, despite the intense heat, lush with vegetation. There was a low, grassy ground cover, and clumps of large bushes were scattered everywhere. Barrel-shaped, branchless trees with leafy crowns dotted the landscape in groups of two and three, while to the west where the land became more hilly the edge of a large evergreen forest could be seen. The area around the station itself was mostly level, with only occasional hills or outcroppings interrupting the almost plainslike topography, but to the east a horizon-spanning ridge rose in the distance. A few kilometers beyond the ridge, belying the peaceful nature of the topography, lay the violent Arroyo fault.
There was a slight rise about a hundred meters on the other side of the station where a temporary shelter had been set up, housing a dozen members of the Congressional Guard that Niles had assigned to them. There were several parked vehicles—ground effect machines, or GEMs, as the soldiers referred to them—clustered nearby. Seated beneath a parasol-like canopy atop one of them, an armed soldier kept watch, glancing only occasionally in their direction. From where she stood she couldn’t be sure which one of the soldiers it was, nor could she see any of the others. They were most likely beneath the protective covering of the shelter, out of the heat—just as the two of them should have been. “Let’s go inside before you give yourself a stroke.”
“Not yet,” he replied, oblivious to the blazing sun. “I almost had it that time. A few more throws and I’ll have a fair go at adjustin’ to one point two g. Care to try?” He teasingly extended the gently curving piece of wood to her, before turning away with a laugh and whipping it into the air so fast that she barely followed the movement of his arm.
He tracked it with his eyes, his body rigid and unmoving. He wore only his khaki shorts—having dumped the rest of his uniform unceremoniously atop his discarded boots and socks—and she saw the smooth muscles rippling beneath his dark skin, glistening under a film of hard-earned perspiration.
The boomerang sailed out and slowly began angling upward, then at the very top of its flight arced gracefully to the left before beginning to circle back. As it came out of its arc, it glided downward at nearly the same angle at which it rose before leveling off for its return. “Watch now.” Woorunmarra took one step to his left, studying its flight path, then another. Adela thought for a moment that the spinning blur would hit them, but at the last second Woorunmarra leaped nearly a meter off the ground and snatched it smoothly from the air. “Not bad, ay?”