It was difficult to tell, but I reckoned two, if not all of them were pretty pissed off about Demiurge. Morag looked at me and shrugged. It wasn’t the definitive all-clear I was hoping for on the communications security side of things, but at least it wasn’t her screaming at us to run.
‘You’ll deal with us then?’ I asked.
‘Not at the expense of our own destruction,’ the three voices answered. ‘But we will listen and we have no interest in turning you in. How many people do you need supplies for?’
There was a pause. Years of training meant that we did not wish to give away any more info than we had to.
‘Just over two hundred,’ Morag said. She hadn’t had the training. She looked at me and shrugged. I guess we had to trust it or we’d never get anywhere. Merle didn’t look happy but then he never did. I found that I really didn’t care if he was happy or not.
The Puppet Show swayed from side to side in what I guessed was a negative gesture.
‘Too many,’ they said. ‘We have the supplies but we cannot get them to you without being noticed. We can get small bits and pieces; maybe we can provide you with a couple of protein mulch vats, but anything beyond that is too dangerous.’
‘Another waste of time,’ Merle said. ‘Shame. I’d heard good things about you.’
‘That’s enough,’ Tailgunner told him.
I wasn’t paying attention. I was having an idea.
‘This is the big supply nexus for the region, right?’ I asked. Tailgunner nodded. ‘Does that include the Citadel?’
‘Yeah,’ Tailgunner answered. ‘But it’s a no go. The supplies are delivered by Mag Lev. The tunnels are embedded in the rock and the stations are fortresses.’
‘If you had enough firepower or explosives could you take out one of their tunnels?’ I asked.
Fortunately Tailgunner picked up on what I was talking about. ‘I think we could probably find some place weak enough,’ he said.
‘So what?’ Cat asked. ‘Rolleston and his friends don’t get their supplies immediately but neither do we.’
‘What are their alternative methods for supply delivery?’ Merle asked, catching on. ‘Shuttle?’
‘Not between here and there. The Citadel was chosen because it was difficult to get to. If They were to attack They would have to bottleneck through tunnels. That meant They couldn’t bring in some of their really big guns like the Hydras,’ the Puppet Show told us. ‘They have a dedicated Mag Lev link. If they can’t do that then they will have to do it the old-fashioned way by ground convoy.’
I brought up a map of the area on my internal system. Along with the catapult, there was another atmosphere processor and a military shuttle port above us. It was the shuttle port that kept people alive during the various sieges, as it was the entrepot for supplies delivered from orbit and other parts of Lalande 2.
With Moa City being turned into what was effectively a fortress, they wanted to have their vital supplies like food and munitions as well protected as possible. The centre of the city had been converted into a supply depot and had grown and grown. Which meant that if the Mag Lev was down…
‘Any supply convoy would have to come by here,’ I mused.
‘Which still doesn’t help you,’ the Puppet Show said. ‘Because you’re still left with the same problem of having to get it out of the city without being spotted. It’s near-total surveillance.’
‘But you know how to do it,’ Morag said.
‘Not without getting noticed.’
‘So let them notice. Because they’ll think it’s us. Which it will be, just with a little bit of local help,’ Morag added.
The Puppet Show was quiet. We waited. We waited some more. I thought about listening to some Billie Holiday on my internal systems.
‘We want to see a full plan, including how you’re going to minimise our exposure, and we will want a ridiculous amount of money for as little aid as we can get away with providing. Half of it now.’
‘That seems unreasonable,’ I said equitably.
Soloso was by my side holding an old-fashioned black credit chip that still had a digital readout on it. The display showed a ludicrous sum.
‘That’s just half, isn’t it?’ I asked.
He nodded. Reluctantly I took one of the black credit chips we had with us out of the pocket of my combat jacket. I had to struggle with my nature to pay so much for so little, particularly having had no money for the majority of my life. Then I remembered it wasn’t my money; it was Sharcroft’s and he was a prick. I gave them a bonus.
Morag held up a memory chip. ‘This is the truth as best we can tell it. What happened on Earth, the war, who Rolleston and Cronin are and what they’ve done, and what we think is going on here and in the other colonies. Read and watch it. We’ve provided what corroborating evidence we could but that’ll be difficult to check under Demiurge. If you’re prepared to believe it then pass it on.’
Again the Puppet Show was quiet for a while before answering.
‘We will review it. If we believe it we will have it disseminated by people several steps removed from us. Perhaps we will do so even if we don’t believe it. We understand the value of propaganda,’ the Puppet Show finally replied.
Morag looked pained. ‘We worked long and hard to make sure it wasn’t propaganda. It’s always going to be subjective but we’ve tried to tell the truth as best we can.’
The Puppet Show disappeared up into the rafters as if they had been yanked up. The curtains closed. Bit rude, I thought. Soloso was standing by Morag. He towered over her. Again not so long ago she would have been intimidated, but not now. She just handed him the memory chip.
‘We’re done here? Let me see you to your cable,’ Soloso said with all the politeness of a posh hotel concierge, if the concierge was capable of pulling your legs off and eating your head.
The general rule in the army is never volunteer. I’d learned this the hard way after I’d joined 5 Para, or rather after I’d volunteered to join instead of waiting for the inevitable draft. It was so I could join the same regiment that hadn’t managed to kill my mum and dad. I’d had some odd ideas in my teens. I’d volunteered for this too. I wanted to see the show. I was quite surprised when Morag joined me.
That was why I was dangling from high-tensile rope over a six-hundred-foot drop in a vertical water-drill-cut shaft pretending to be a combat engineer and desperately trying to remember my demolitions training. I was also trying to teach Morag how to place demo. I had no idea where I stood with her so of course I chose this moment to talk to her about what I can only laughingly call our relationship. The status of which I had come to think of as good if I wasn’t being shot at. I was so bad at this sort of thing.
‘There’s no need to be gentle. It’s pretty safe until it’s got a detonator in it,’ I told her as we worked plastic concentrate explosive into what we hoped were likely fracture points. The whanau all had experience of mining but they were busy at the moment. Some of the others back at Utu Pa probably could have helped but we hadn’t thought to ask. Morag followed my lead and worked the charge into the crack with a look of concentration on her face.
‘You did well with the Puppet Show the other day,’ I said. She grunted a vague affirmative. ‘And in the FAV.’
She stopped and turned to look at me. I saw her in green, illuminated by my lowlight optics.
‘Yeah, I’m getting good at killing people,’ she said.
‘That’s not the way to think about it. Think about it as helping keep Mudge, Pagan, Cat and Merle alive. Well maybe not Merle. Besides, I’m pretty sure they were members of the Black Squadrons.’