The Wolf Worlds by Allan Cole, Chris Bunch Page B

and shortcircuiting the main computer. Lights flashed and then the inside of the vehicle was plunged into darkness.
    "Cask? Cask?" The other tech's terrified whisper.
    Ah, wee lad, Alex thought. M'moon's in benev'lence, an' Ah lie y' t'livit.
    And he was out the door, moving toward the second vehicle.
    He picked up its ramp and slammed it sideways into the track's now-clamped-shut door. Door and ramp gave way at the same time. Bullets seared out, and Alex flattened to one side.
    Ah c'd use m'willygun ae thae very moment, he thought, and then saw what looked like a hydraulic jack nearby. Alex rolled to it, took the meter-long handle in both hands, and twisted. The handle, only half-inch mild steel, snapped off cleanly.
    Alex rose to his feet, hefted the handle, then hurled it through the vehicle's door. Followed it with a thermite grenade. A howl gurgled down and then sparks began flashing and Alex could see flames crackle.
    He picked himself up, dusted his knees, and looked around for something else to demolish. The headquarters was in chaos— it seemed as if everyone was shooting. But not at Alex.
    Since panic spreads, the line units opened up. Alex wondered idly what they thought they were shooting at, then wandered over to see if Sten needed any help.
    He didn't.
    Alex started to enter the command track, then checked himself. "Ah'm wee Alex a' th' Pacifists," he said softly.
    Sten chuckled and emerged from his lurking place just inside the track's entrance. He wiped his knife-blade clean and slid the knife back into his arm.
    The two men stood, slightly awed by the high explosive and pyrotechnics on the plain around them.
    "C'mon, laddie. Thae clowns'll be ae it a' night, an' Ah'm thinkit Ah buy y' a wee brew."
    And, as silently as they came, Sten and Alex disappeared back into the night.
    "Ah dinnae like to tell the wee laddie no," Alex explained.
    "PREEEEE-SENT… HARMS!"
    And the ragged formation of beings brought their weapons up. At least those that had them did.
    "Aw," Alex said, entranced, "ae likit ae wave an' all."
    "You," Sten said, "have even a lousier sense of humor than Mahoney."
    "HIN… SPECTION… HARMS!" A bucket-of-bolts clatter as the assembled hopeful mercenaries snapped their bolt-carriers open. The young man wearing captain's bars, khaki pants, and a blue tunic managed a salute.
    "Unit ready for inspection, Colonel," he said.
    Sten sighed and started down the line. He stopped at the first person, who was trembling slightly. Sten snapped out a hand for the man's rifle. The prospective merc didn't let go.
    "You're supposed to give it to me when I want it," Sten explained. The man released the rifle. Sten ran his little finger around the inside of the firing chamber, then wiped off traces of carbon. He glanced down the corroded barrel and gave the weapon back. Then he moved on to the next person.
    The inspection took only a minute.
    Sten walked back to the captain. "Thank you, Captain. You may dismiss your men."
    The captain gaped at him.
    "But, uh…Colonel…"
    All right. He wants an explanation, Sten thought.
    "Captain. Your men are not trained, are not experienced, are not combat ready. Their weapons—those they have—are ready for recycling, not for killing people. If I hired your unit, I'd be…"
    "Like takit wee lambkins t'slaughter," Alex put in. Both Sten and the captain wondered what the hell he was talking about.
    "I'm sorry. Captain," and Sten started away.
    The young officer caught up with Sten, started to say something, reconsidered, then began again.
    "Colonel Sten," he finally managed. "Sir, we… my unit…need this assignment. We're all from the same world, all of us. We grew up in the same area. We've used all our savings just to get here. And we've been on Hawkthome for five cycles, and so far, well…" He suddenly realized that he sounded like he was begging and shut up.
    "Thank you for your time. Colonel," he finished.
    "Hang on a second, Captain." Sten had a thought. "You and