whatever blunt instruments he was able to pick up. It's
okay—my quartermaster's already dickering with the Tetrax. We'll all need
suits, too. You'd better start making up a list of equipment."
"You've never
been out in the cold," I said. "You have no idea what it's like. It's
dangerous out there, especially for novices."
"Do you think
it isn't dangerous wearing all the kinds of suits we've had to wear
these last ten years?" she said, contemptuously. "Do you think it
wasn't dangerous going down to the surface of Salamandra after the bombardment?
Believe me, Rousseau—you don't know what real scavenging is.
Make the list, and get it right. Let me worry about the cost and the
hazards."
I made the list. I started
while we were still on the strip, and I managed to complete it within five
minutes of arriving at the plaza. The star-captain gave it to Crucero and told
him to take care of it, as soon as possible. She sent all but two of her
troopers to help him. The two that remained were Serne and an Oriental named
Khalekhan. I thought she might be going out of her way to prove that she wasn't
afraid of any trap that the likes of Amara Guur could spring, but I had to
admit that they both looked as if they meant business once they had their
flame-pistols drawn. In theory, that was illegal, but there wasn't a
peace-officer in sight, even though we were in full view of the central police
station and the night shift was on duty. The Tetrax seemed perfectly content to
let us do whatever it was the star- captain felt she had to do. I didn't doubt
that they were looking on, from a discreet distance, and that Amara Guur would
know that too, but I was still anxious.
There were no
vormyr in the plaza either. There was nothing to do but wait. The plaza was the
largest open space in the city, directly under the pole of the dome. The
Skychain shot up like an infinite glittering arrow from the base-station a
couple of hundred metres away; it was an impressive sight, even in the muted
light, but the star-captain didn't bother gawking at it. She was looking from
side to side, scanning the passers-by on the roadstrip.
When we'd been
there about ten minutes, a Campanulan lost his balance transferring from the
faster strip to the slower one and fell with his legs on one and his torso on
the other. He brought down half a dozen people of assorted races who were
standing on the slower strip while the faster one dragged him along—if it had
been mid-morning, he'd have skittled a hundred or more. Somebody must have
dropped something into the crack between the strips, because the roller gears
suddenly started making an awful noise. The safety-relays immediately stopped
both strips.
"Does that
happen often?" the star-captain asked.
"Not at
night," I told her. "Twice or three times a day, when the lights are
on. It's okay. The repair crew will come out even at this hour. If they don't
fix it in time, we'll only have to walk to the next intersection to get a ride
home."
She had tensed up
when the accident happened; her eyes were darting back and forth, as if she
expected soldiers with blazing guns to emerge from the shadows at any moment,
although the pedestrians had meekly accepted the necessity of using their own
muscle-power and were proceeding about their business in good order. I hoped
that she hadn't actually released the safety-catch on her weapon.
"That's the
repair crew coming now," I told her, pointing to the approaching team.
"Those aren't weapons they're carrying. Take it easy, will you? It doesn't
look as if anyone's trapped an arm or a leg, so it'll just be a matter of
minutes."
I could see that
she was trying to relax, but she wasn't finding it easy.
I heard a faint
hiss coming from the top of the stairs and turned round. The doors of the Hall
of Justice had been closed when we arrived, but one stood ajar now, and there
was a face peering around it. I thought at first that it was a human face, but
then I realised that it was a
okay—my quartermaster's already dickering with the Tetrax. We'll all need
suits, too. You'd better start making up a list of equipment."
"You've never
been out in the cold," I said. "You have no idea what it's like. It's
dangerous out there, especially for novices."
"Do you think
it isn't dangerous wearing all the kinds of suits we've had to wear
these last ten years?" she said, contemptuously. "Do you think it
wasn't dangerous going down to the surface of Salamandra after the bombardment?
Believe me, Rousseau—you don't know what real scavenging is.
Make the list, and get it right. Let me worry about the cost and the
hazards."
I made the list. I started
while we were still on the strip, and I managed to complete it within five
minutes of arriving at the plaza. The star-captain gave it to Crucero and told
him to take care of it, as soon as possible. She sent all but two of her
troopers to help him. The two that remained were Serne and an Oriental named
Khalekhan. I thought she might be going out of her way to prove that she wasn't
afraid of any trap that the likes of Amara Guur could spring, but I had to
admit that they both looked as if they meant business once they had their
flame-pistols drawn. In theory, that was illegal, but there wasn't a
peace-officer in sight, even though we were in full view of the central police
station and the night shift was on duty. The Tetrax seemed perfectly content to
let us do whatever it was the star- captain felt she had to do. I didn't doubt
that they were looking on, from a discreet distance, and that Amara Guur would
know that too, but I was still anxious.
There were no
vormyr in the plaza either. There was nothing to do but wait. The plaza was the
largest open space in the city, directly under the pole of the dome. The
Skychain shot up like an infinite glittering arrow from the base-station a
couple of hundred metres away; it was an impressive sight, even in the muted
light, but the star-captain didn't bother gawking at it. She was looking from
side to side, scanning the passers-by on the roadstrip.
When we'd been
there about ten minutes, a Campanulan lost his balance transferring from the
faster strip to the slower one and fell with his legs on one and his torso on
the other. He brought down half a dozen people of assorted races who were
standing on the slower strip while the faster one dragged him along—if it had
been mid-morning, he'd have skittled a hundred or more. Somebody must have
dropped something into the crack between the strips, because the roller gears
suddenly started making an awful noise. The safety-relays immediately stopped
both strips.
"Does that
happen often?" the star-captain asked.
"Not at
night," I told her. "Twice or three times a day, when the lights are
on. It's okay. The repair crew will come out even at this hour. If they don't
fix it in time, we'll only have to walk to the next intersection to get a ride
home."
She had tensed up
when the accident happened; her eyes were darting back and forth, as if she
expected soldiers with blazing guns to emerge from the shadows at any moment,
although the pedestrians had meekly accepted the necessity of using their own
muscle-power and were proceeding about their business in good order. I hoped
that she hadn't actually released the safety-catch on her weapon.
"That's the
repair crew coming now," I told her, pointing to the approaching team.
"Those aren't weapons they're carrying. Take it easy, will you? It doesn't
look as if anyone's trapped an arm or a leg, so it'll just be a matter of
minutes."
I could see that
she was trying to relax, but she wasn't finding it easy.
I heard a faint
hiss coming from the top of the stairs and turned round. The doors of the Hall
of Justice had been closed when we arrived, but one stood ajar now, and there
was a face peering around it. I thought at first that it was a human face, but
then I realised that it was a
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