Chapter 3

The sun was well up and streaming into the cabins. Rada saw Rasida's shutters were still firmly shut and she smiled. She opened the door and confirmed she was alone - there was only one lump under the blanket.

"Hey!" she called. "You going up to Hook river?"

"Mmm," Rasida mumbled. "You go."

"George has already taken your place," Rada told her. "Left about an hour ago. Where's Schecter?"

"Huh? Oh, he's gone."

"Clearly. When?"

"Shit, I dunno. Sometime ... Would you go away - come back in the morning." She pulled the blanket tighter over her head.

"Which morning? It's nearly lunch."

"Oh, shit, I've slept in!" Rasida sat up. "I've got things to do."

"Don't worry, I've cleared your schedule. When you didn't show for breakfast, I figured..."

"Yeah, thanks," she said, rubbing her eyes.

"Good night?" Rada asked.

"Hmm." she smiled.

"A 10?"

"More like 11, actually. We talked, mostly," she yawned. "Don't know when we got to sleep."

"So?"

"'So?' What?"

Rada came and sat on the bed. "Details? Don't leave anything out."

"Details?"

"Yes," Rada smiled.

Meanwhile, George left a couple of snipers in covering positions in case the miners wanted trouble. He then took the remaining straight into their camp and right up to the prefabricated building that was clearly the 'office.' Goldsmith emerged and looked about him.

"What's this? What are you after?" he demanded.

"I thought we had an agreement, Goldsmith," George said in a voice filled with frustration and menace. "You promised not to carry out any surveying..."

"Look," Goldsmith yelled back. "In a week we're being retrieved. No way can we have an airship stooging around till you guys decide we can carry out our work. Time is money, Slink, and..."

"Listen, you piece of Euro trash," George bristled. "We are the Black Guard, not 'Slinks', and we could've wiped out your operation anytime we wished. You show us some respect, because, there is still time to stake you and your people out in the desert for the vultures to fight over."

"Don't threaten me or my men," he yelled back. "I've no intention of staying any longer in your baking hot sandpit than I have to. Just give us a week and we'll be out of your way and we can get back among civilised people."

"Who do you work for?" George demanded. "Who pays your wages?"

"None of your business, Slink."

"Ok," George sighed. "Pas'to. Tear this place apart, guys."

Instantly, six Black Guard slid off their horses and spread out. An A-7 was produced and aimed at Goldsmith's 'office.' The miner's security guards began to fall out - taking cover behind rovers, buildings and whatever else they could find. A guard took aim at George and was instantly struck in the shoulder with a bullet. There followed a loud shrieking sound - a banshee round.

"Hey wait, wait!" cried Goldsmith, fleeing behind the building. "Guys, hold off! Slinks? Wait a minute?"

"Q'Sah!" George ordered. 'Stop!'

"Ok, look, we work for an agency," Goldsmith told George. "It sells information, research, to whoever wants to pay for it. We're just collecting information, that's all. We're not diggers, nor do we work for any mining company."

"But your information could be sold to a mining company?"

"Yeah, but we have no control over that. We have no say."

The Guard called 'Sabre' appeared - his nose bandaged. "Hey, Boss? He called. "There's not many of them."

"Get back in the box!"

"That little slut who busted my nose with you?" he asked George.

"Why?" George grinned. "You want your arm busted as well?"

"Hey, any time! Bring 'er on and I'll rip her apart with my bare hands. Then I'll bang that bitch friend of hers..."

"Sabre?" Goldsmith yelled. "Shut the fuck up!"

"You're looking for a rematch?" George asked him. "Come to the place you were before - near the stream. Bring your pals? I think Sian would be up for it."

"Yeah?" Sabre grinned slyly.

"Yeah. We could all do with a little entertainment. Maybe a little match up wouldn't be a bad idea?"

"We could take bets, Boss?" a guard suggested.

"This is crazy," Goldsmith protested. "What would be the point of it?"

"Ah, how about fostering a little cross cultural understanding?" George grinned.

"Oh, bullshit! But, I'll tell you. We have this match of yours between Sabre and whoever you want to put up, and, if we win, we get to finish our work in peace?"

"And what if we win?" George asked.

"Hmm! Sabre, y'sure you can take on their guys?"

"If it's that little cunt, no worries," he snarled.

"If he disrespects Sian one more time I'll jam my fist so far up his..." came a voice behind George.

"Okay. Cobb, cool it," George told him. "Goldsmith, we have certain, ah, expectations when talking to or about a comrade. One is displaying respect by word or deed. We will show courtesy to you and your people and in return I expect the same back. But, if your man called Sabre disrespects my sister again within my hearing, I'll have no hesitation in shredding his carcass with a horse pistol. I tell you this by way courtesy, so we have no misunderstandings."

"Fair enough. Sabre, you heard what the man said?" But he hadn't, because he'd stumped off. "If you win, we pack up, agreed?"

"Agreed," George replied.

When the Hook river party arrived back to camp it was nearly dusk. George saw Rada standing in front of the common alone. She indicated she wanted a conference, so George gave his horse to Gina and asked her to unbridle, sponge down and put him in his stall with a good bag of feed. When he got to the common she found Rada pacing up and down and clearly agitated.

"What's happened?" George asked, urgently. "Where's Rasida?"

"Gone for a walk," Rada told him, her voice even. "With Schecter. Prolly up to the ridge to watch the sunset."

"Aha!" he shrugged. "So? There's a problem?"

"Schecter's a spy," Rada blurted out. "He doesn't work for that Goldsmith guy at all. They were only used to 'place' him. He really works for some agency in Euro that gathers military intelligence for whoever. He's really a mercenary - he's done sabotage, hostage extraction, spying, all kinds of different shit."

"Huh? How do you know?" asked George.

"He told Rasida everything. He even showed her this little communication device no bigger than a pea that can call his agency in Euro. Rasida said he called some guy called Colin and they had a chat at three in the morning. He told her Colin was sitting in his office in Neukirchen - that's some place in Euro."

Okay, okay," George put up his hands. "Slow down. Schecter said all this to her?"

"Yep. Y'know, he even put a bug on her, except it wasn't an insect bug, but this speck of goo that, ah, that ah..."

"What?"

"This goo listens to everything and sends it to Schecter's pea thing. He heard us discuss Suetonius's advice the other night. He even heard Rasida and me, ah, well, doing, ah..."

"Okay. Look, what I don't understand is, if he's spy, why did he tell Rasida all this?"

"Rasida thinks he's in love with her and wants to give up spying and live here with her and make babies."

"And you think?" asked, George, peering at her.

"I don't fucking know, George. Rasida's, ah, she's in la la land, at the moment. She hasn't landed back on earth since she went to see him last night. I gather she had a good time."

"Obviously," grinned George. "So what specific information was he after? What secrets is he likely to discover here?"

"Rasida didn't say, exactly. Just some stuff about the size of our forces, our arms..."

"Damn! I'm not even sure about that, myself. 30 years ago, we could raise a host of about half a million. How many would respond to a call, now, is anyones guess. As to arms, they haven't changed much since then, either. I'm surprised his pals in Euro didn't know that."

"He did say they have guns of unbelievable power. Plasma weapons that can fit on a person's finger and recharge practically straight away. These things can fry anything for klicks."

"He told Rasida all this?" George replied, astonished. "Rasida, who he meets only days ago, so scrambles his brains he..."

"Well, either he's the worst spy in history, or, he may have reached a point where he wants out - doesn't like the betraying game anymore, so, he finds a woman..."

"One other possibility, Rada," said George. "He's playing an elaborate game to get under our guard. What if we're not the target at all, but he's trying to get inside Iberica and really cause mischief. Rasida would be the perfect dupe."

"I know," groaned Rada. "Oh poor Rasida! She really thinks she's found the real thing. All her relationships have crashed on her in the past. I so wanted this one to work. To think we practically threw them together."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Rada? This communication thing of his secured?"

"I guess."

"And he doesn't have other devices?"

"Who knows?"

"Hmm, with Rasida sticking to him like glue, perhaps..."

"Can she be trusted, George? Seeing how she feels about the guy."

"I trust her, Rada," George told her adamantly. "Love or no love, she's an Ark and a Black Guard. I think we assume she's subverted him until we receive further information. But, just in case, you keep an eye on them, Rada."

"I will George. If I smell betrayal..."

"Yes, we'll climb that fence when we come to it."

High up above the plateau, where they could watch the bright, golden rays of the sun gradually fade into orange, Rasida extracted the 'pea' from her ear.

"Cool!" she told Schecter. "I'm supposed to 'stick to you like glue.'"

"What, even when I take a crap?" he replied.

"You can do that on your own," she grinned. "But, I suppose I have to listen in."

"Just hold on to my interface - what else am I supposed to do sitting on the bog?"

"I don't really want to know," she laughed. "Anyway, this thing feels kind of weird. It sits right in my ear and feels like a horse fly stuck in there - 'cept it doesn't buzz around, of course."

"Where'd you smear the nano paste?"

"On the wall by the trestle. Funny, it doesn't seem right, somehow. We Black Guard don't have any secrets between us, but I can see how this thing could cause a lot of mischief. What if you're really pissed with someone and you nut off to your friend? What if that someone could hear all you were saying, even though they didn't intend that person to hear. We all dump shit about people - but we don't expect that to come back on us."

"So?" Schecter said, leaning back. "I guess you need to watch what you say."

"I so couldn't do that," Rasida leaned back against him. "My mouth has always been able to roam free."

"You Arks need to learn to be more guarded, more reticent..."

"It's our fundamental right to speak freely," Rasida explained. "We start giving up our autonomy then where does it stop? Hey? Almost forgot - there's to be a match up tomorrow between Sian and that guy Sabre."

"What?" Shecter said, aghast. "He'll break her in two."

"Y'sure? Sian seemed to be able to take care of herself."

"That's because she got the drop on him. Sabre didn't expect the girl to fight like that. Next time, he'll be ready. Rasida, he's ex Inkubis Institut..."

"What's that?"

"They're trained as fighters from the cradle. All compassion is drummed out of them. They're the toughest soldiers around and are sought after by private armies. If Sabre gets hold of Sian, he will kill her and feel nothing. You don't understand these guys at all. They don't care about fighting to any rules. Their sole aim is to win, no matter what."

"You forget Sian is pretty handy..."

"Rasida, Sabre will have all sorts of tricks up his sleeve. He'll have sub dermal blades, wrist pumps that squirt immobilising drugs through her skin. Rasida, if he so much as puts a hand on her, she's a goner. I don't know half the stuff he could pull."

"Then we must insure a clean fight."

"How? You can't. Sabre is the ultimate mercenary. I can't even begin to know all he was trained to do. Inkubis is one strange place. Their graduates earn huge money. I'm surprised he signed on to that penny whistle operation - he's slumming it. Rasida, we must stop this before Sian is killed."

"We can't, oh, no! It's all arranged and it would be dishonourable to back out. You must tell Sian all about this. Perhaps you could show her a few tricks?"