Chapter 2

Rasida lay awake. There was too much going on in her head for her to sleep. Through her drowsiness, she heard a soft knocking on the door. At first she thought it might be Schecter and wondered what she should do. Before she could answer it, however, Rada's face appeared.

"Hi, you awake?" she asked.

"Yeah, come in."

If she'd thought about it, she'd have realised it was unusual for Rada to knock, let alone wait to be invited in. Instead, she automatically shuffled over to give her some room beside her.

"Just been around the camp," Rada explained. "Couldn't sleep so I thought..."

"Everyone settled down?" Rasida asked.

"Yeah, funny! So much bed hopping. I didn't think I was that bad at their age."

"You weren't. Who's sleeping with who?"

"Dunno, lost track."

"Sian and Gina?"

"Heh. Kinda no man's land for them, at the moment. All bundled up and giggling away. I kinda remembered how we were at that age."

"Yeah," Rasida smiled. "Remember how we used to talk about guys? Size of their dicks, shit like that?"

"Yeah, I remember." Rada peeled off her allsuit and climbed in beside Rasida.

"You grown more chest, Rada?" Rasida asked.

"Huh, uh, no. I've just been working on my pecks. Kind of lifts everything up a bit."

"Yeah? John approve?"

"He approves of everything," she laughed. "Really, I could wear a rope wig and a clown mask and he'd think I was sexy."

"Lucky, to have a guy like that."

"I guess. Y'know? No guy has ever made me the feel the way he, ah, uh, he..."

"He's a great guy, Rada," she said, kindly, hugging her tighter.

"You were the only other person who knew how to touch me, y'know? John, he, ah, he'd never seen a woman naked before, even. I was his first and only. From the get go, he knew..."

"I mean," interrupted Rasida, "the guy walks - and I mean walks - all the way from Bluefields to Iberica because he couldn't ride a horse for shit. He walks fifteen hundred klicks across the desert to join the Black Guard and it wasn't because he wanted to fight. He just wanted to be with you and Gina."

"Yeah," Rada's eyes moistened.

"No Ark guy would ever do that. When I asked him why, he gives me some shit about sackcloth and ashes and I thought he'd been too long in the sun. I don't think I'll ever understand it, but it was the coolest thing I've ever heard. Suetonius figured someone who walked that far to be with his partner must have what it takes to be a Black Guard."

"Stop it, Rasida. I'm going to be a messy crybaby and I never fucking cry."

Rada promptly burst out crying as Rasida held her. "Oh, baby, you must miss him like shit." She ran her fingers through Rada's hair. "I can't imagine what it is to be so in love."

"Sometimes, we sneak out late at night," Rada collected herself. "We'd go up the mountain trail and sometimes we'd fuck under the stars. Mostly, we'd just cuddle, lying on our backs and talking shit, shooting the breeze."

"You ever argue?" Rasida asked.

"Sometimes. John would just walk away. When I get real bitchy he'd walk away and go visit Charity, or Sean Beth, until I calmed down. Then he'd come back with a nut cake and tell me he baked it himself, although I know Sean Beth used to give it to him and tell him what to say. No-one ever taught him how to be a 'real' guy - certainly not the Religionists. He didn't know how to deal with me so he'd go and get advice. Thing is, it was the same advice every time," she laughed. "Always a nut cake, because everyone knew that was my favourite."

"That's so funny," laughed Rasida. "I'm so fucking jealous right now."

"Bake a nut cake and go visit Schecter?" Rada suggested, winking.

"He's not my type," Rasida sniffed. "Okay, he's cute in that chunky way, but, I think he'd be the moony type and I don't want a puppy."

"Aw, c'mon? He's seems a nice guy for a Euro. John's a Euro..."

"George want's me to fuck him and no way am I going to whore myself..."

"George said that?" Rada looked shocked.

"Not in so many words, but, it's obvious. Speaking of George, you'd better go easy with him. You rile him enough and he'll put you on your arse. Don't underestimate that nice nature of his. I've seen him go off and I've seen him in combat and, baby, believe me, he'll drop you - no problemo."

"Yeah I guess I treat him a little like John. I expect him to walk away, but..."

"But, he will to a point. You try to undermine him and, whacko!"

"Funny, his partner was a Religionist, too. We should have more in common."

"It seems to me, baby, that, you've never forgiven your biological father for dumping Sheba and not having anything to do with you when you were growing up. You then choose the most unlikely Ark guy you could find. One who wasn't an Ark, but a Religionist kid who would do whatever you say. You then dump all your shit on him and wait for him to run away like your dad. Instead, this guy keeps coming back and even walks the length of the Ark Preserve because you leave him for the Black Guard. What was that shit for, baby? Why did you need to test him?"

"Test? Ah, I've never, ah ... I never looked at it that way before. I wasn't exactly leaving him..."

"You weren't? And he understood that?"

"Well, ah, I guess..."

"I guess, he passed, huh? He did that insane thing because he loves you so badly. Like I said, I've never heard such a beautiful story in my life and if you ever leave him for real, I'll really fuck you up, sister or no sister."

"Why bother? I'm a fuck up already," she blubbered. "I treat everyone like shit and I'm so lucky to have the friends that I have."

"A fuck up? Maybe, but you're also my buddy sister, Gina's mom, John's lover and the best comrade to have by your side. Rada, I know when you're beside me, I'm safe, because when the shit goes down, you'll be first in and last out. I respect the hell out of you for that and you'll always be my best sister - no matter what crap you give me or George."

"Oh, Rasida - damn, I'm going to cry again. You, mind if I stay here the night? I feel so lonely..."

"Of, course. Everyone's bunked up with someone, anycase, 'cept George..."

"And Schecter?" Rada grinned, mischievously.

"Yeah, Schecter," she smiled.

About 50 metres away Jurgen Schecter, too, was lying awake, thinking. Unlike his boss, Goldsmith, he'd taken the trouble to study the social and political make up of the people whose land they arrogantly wanted to stake out. He'd learned, for instance, that the Arks had no central government - that they were a collection of semi-nomadic, independent bands. They held a vast territory - most of it desert - and were being pressured by the highly technological, regulated, densely populated 'Union' to the North.

Some thirty years ago or more, the Arks had put into the field an army of nearly 400,000 against the crumbling, dictatorial 'Committee Provinces.' Now 'The Coms' were no more and united with the vast city state known as 'Cityplex.' That 'Union' was constantly hungry for land and had now the technology to terraform the marginal land held by the Arks into highly productive farm land. How long, the decentralised, fractious Arks could resist the pressure from the North was anyone's guess. How long their 'stateless state' could survive without fundamental organisational changes, he wasn't sure. Whether it was 'moral' to hold so much land and not make the best use of it, was a question for higher authorities than he.

Societies constantly evolve despite best intentions. Empires come and go and are replaced. Such is the nature of the march of civilisation. Few in Europe believed the Arks could pull together such a force as they had in the Third Ark War. Schecter believed the Arks had a sting in the tail, but, was it enough to resist the enormous forces gathering around them? Thirty years ago, they could count on their technological inventiveness, mobility, fighting spirit and a certain 'thinking outside the square.' But, the Coms were minnows by comparison - corrupt, hamstrung by old ideas that couldn't be supported by objective conditions. Few of those things that gave the Arks the edge over their opponents existed today. Future wars were going to be won by technology and resources and the Arks were a long way behind the competition - a long way.

Did they realise the peril they were in? He guessed everyone assumes things will always stay the same, but the fact remains, the Ark civilisation and way of life was in serious trouble. Connolly, Nin, Montseny, Machno, Bakhunin and Durutti, he mused, names of long dead idealistic revolutionaries whose names were kept alive in the tribal names of these Arks. Who would believe that even the hippy spoonbenders of the 1960s would have their concepts of absolute freedom expressed by these people. Like the hippies, these Arks faced being crushed by the dictatorship of the marketplace - to be enslaved by mortgages, regulations, careers, crowds...

Schecter put his earbud in and listened for a few seconds to the woman called Rasida - by the sighs and gasps, now locked in Sapphic embrace with her spiritual 'sister.' She had no idea how a tiny speck of gummy material could contain enough functions to broadcast her every chuckle, every moan of pleasure, 2 klicks to anyone with an interface. He turned it off. He felt soiled, dirty, intrusive. As intrusive as the forces of which he was a part.

In the morning he woke early, as was his nature. He wasn't surprised to find the camp already alive, just like every military encampment since armies were armies. There was the smell of cooking, of fresh hay being fed to the horses. Black clad teenagers were grooming, mucking out, checking bridles and saddles and sponging down. Some were still woofing down tin plates of beans soaked up with slabs of fresh bread. He walked towards a trestle table and a youth got up and indicated his seat.

Absently, he looked around for Rasida and found her with her horse. She looked as sexy in the morning as she did the night before. A little down valley he saw a couple at the butts doing target practice. As he waited for the kitchen detail to deliver his breakfast, he watched these kids.

A blond girl was mouthing off to a boy who looked no older than 14. Schecter could see he was doing his best, but was spraying all around the target. He took up his plate and wandered down for a better look. With a professional eye, he studied the kid's stance and technique. After a while, he approached him from behind and lightly put his hands on his shoulders.

"Relax, ah?" he said in the calmest of voices.

"Jonas," the kid told him.

"Ok, Jonas, relax. Take a couple of deep breaths. Don't worry what she's telling you. I know it's hard because you really like her."

"Huh?" the kid turned around.

"What?" the girl said. "That true?"

"You're a Black Guard, soldier," Schecter continued. "Your leaders saw you had what it takes. You wear your scarf with pride, soldier, because you're worthy of it. Show this girl what you can do. Let your body go limp - shake free all the tension in those muscles. Now, look at that bull - see it three minutes from now with a hole drilled right through the centre. Look at it and study. There is nothing else in the world right now except that target. You have already hit it in your mind. Now, squeeze that finger and hit it with your round."

"Zip."

"Bull!" cried the girl. "Hey, that true about you liking me?"

"Hey, Schecter?" he heard a voice. Turning, he saw Rasida, Rada, Gina and Sian standing, watching. Rasida took Rada's autorifle and stripped off the targeting attachment. "Hot shot! You fancy a little competition?"

The girls were smiling - Rasida most of all. It seemed she was smiling just for him - a blend of challenge, triumph and, yes, seduction. It was a mild morning, yet Schecter began to sweat. It felt like every atom in his body was accelerating.

He stared right back into those brown eyes. They appeared to be dancing for him. "What's the prize?" he asked.

Rada glanced at her sister with bemusement. Rasida's gaze didn't waver, nor did she betray she'd caught his double meaning. "There has to be a prize, hot shot?" she asked. "Winning not sufficient?"

"Depends what I win," he answered.

"Here!" she tossed him Rada's autorifle. "Best of seven?"

Schecter hefted the rifle and studied it. It was light weight - made from composite materials - and finely balanced. He saw it was dual chambered, power driven with a blowback standby mechanism. It was fired by a trigger slot/touch plate device with a standard auto, semi select switch as found on assault rifles since the earliest days. No doubt there were other confections concealed inside the targeting attachment and he found it amusing Rasida found the need to keep it from him.

The Ark autorifle was as evolved as ballistic weapons were ever going to get. Little did the Arks know that such weapons were now obsolete. Schecter knew that the next generation of plasma weapons were shortly going to come on the market.

The weapons manufacturers of Europe could now make the plasma weapon so small it could be clipped to the finger. It emitted a concentrated, directed beam, burst of energy that could penetrate practically any material and vapourise the body concealed behind it. The beam actually sustained itself by absorbing energy around it and could, in theory, travel as far as the soldier wanted it to. A directed plasma beam could travel in a straight line until it left the earth's atmosphere and there was no longer any free sub atomic particles to feed it. In the meantime, everything in its path would be rendered to ashes. It was the most frightening weapon mankind had made since the nuclear bomb.