Metal Boxes - At the Edge Page 13

  Agnes gushed, losing control of her emotions. Envy was more than evident on her face. She hugged Bethy like a long lost friend. Bethy reveled in the attention.

  Stone stepped forward, barely able to squeeze between the two woman. “Agnes, this is my cousin Beffie-pie…I mean Bethy Stone. Beffie-pie, this is Agnes. She is the extraordinary ambassador from our host, the Prophet.”

  Agnes blushed in true embarrassment. “Oh no. I’m no such thing. I was just asked, by the Prophet himself, I might add, to be his official greeter.”

  Bethy said, “I have heard so much about him. Are you close friends with the Prophet.”

  Agnes beamed, “Oh my. To the Prophet’s goodness, I’m much more than that. I love him and he loves me.” She swung her arms around in a full arc indicating everyone under the canopy and everyone in the crowd. “He loves us all like beloved husbands and wives, and we love him just the same.”

  Everyone nodded. Not just the dignitaries, but everyone, even those far back in the crowd as the conversation was relayed to them.

  Bethy gushed. “That sounds fantastic. It would be nice if everyone everywhere felt that way about each other.”

  Agnes laughed, “Oh, believe me, Signorina Stone, someday they will.” She looked around conspiratorially. “I don’t want to say too much and speak out of turn, but I know the Prophet is anxious to meet you both, even this close to the enclave.”

  Bethy gushed, “The enclave? Where is that?”

  Agnes smiled and winked. “The enclave isn’t a where, but a momentous event. You’re so blessed to be here for it. Why, once it happens, we will have parties, dances, parades, banquets, celebrations, and best of all, dozens of special lottery drawings. I don’t want to say too much, but a hundred new winners will be elevated to wealth and fame, many from this very crowd. The Prophet has personally earmarked billions of credits for this very purpose.”

  The crowd shuffled and murmured when the news was noised about, but they quickly returned to silently standing. Each ear was turned toward the canopy straining to catch additional news. Waves of sulfur caught by the slight breeze washed over Stone. The fragrance of greed was thick, a cloying blanket that seemed to almost push the oxygen out of the air.

  Stone suspected Agnes was saying exactly what she had been asked to speak. It did not surprise him in the least that she was playing to the crowd, not actually talking with Bethy and him.

  Apparently, Bethy missed the byplay between the crowd and Agnes. She gushed, “It all sounds so wonderful. I hope the Prophet doesn’t mind if we join in the celebration and film it for my audience?”

  Agnes laughed, “Mind? I’m sure he would insist that you join in the celebration.”

  Stone said, “I do have business to attend to, but I would like to meet your Prophet.”

  Agnes laughed even harder, “Why, he isn’t just my Prophet, but yours too. You’ll see when you meet him.”

  Bethy squealed using her bubble-headed voice. “Thills, when can we meet him? I’m so excited. He sounds like such a joy joy beautiful man.”

  Agnes shook her head, all sense of humor gone, “Signorina Stone, Bethy, the Prophet is not just a man. He is THE Prophet, sent by THE God to usher in a new heaven, right here on Holliman’s Rift.”

  Bethy took the correction in stride and smiled, “Well, then I can’t think of a better reason to have a joy joy party.”

  Agnes recovered her sense of humor and laughed. “Now you’re preaching to the choir, sister.”

  Bethy said, “If we’re going to party, I need some new party clothes. Where is the best shopping?”

  Agnes said, “I know all of the best places. I would be more than delighted to show you or I can find someone else if you’d rather?” From the tone of her voice, it was obvious Agnes did not want Bethy to want someone else.

  Bethy shook her head, “Nonsense. You’ll be an absolutely lovely shopping companion. I only hope that you let me pay today as a way to show my gratitude for your hospitality.”

  Agnes was about to answer, but a stir in the crowd caught her attention. “Oh, my. The Prophet’s special ambassador is coming.” She leaned in to speak privately to Stone and Bethy, her voice not carrying, although Stone’s P.A. would pick up her comments quite clearly. “The ambassador is so lucky. I volunteered to be a part of this year’s enclave, but I didn’t pass the test. He is one of six special attendants to the Prophet. Such an honor. Such an honor!”

  The crowd rippled apart like water around a rock. The ambassador was a short man, not fat, and almost bald with scraggly tufts of hair around his ears. He was surrounded by six hulking security guards, though it didn’t appear they had anything to protect him against. The people moved aside letting him and his guards walk past, closing in quietly behind him.

  The guards stopped at the front edge of the crowd without orders, allowing the ambassador to continue. He shunned the canopy and walked around the side, staying as much in the sunlight as possible. The ambassador nodded at Agnes, smiled shyly at Bethy, and stuck his hand out to Stone.

  Stone took his hand, reaching from the shade of the canopy into the sunlight. The ambassador squeezed tightly with a surprisingly firm grip. Grabbing Stone’s wrist with his other hand, he vigorously shook hands smiling at Stone as if they were long lost, friends.

  Stone felt a small pinch at the base of his hand. Pulling free, he looked at the bottom of his wrist. Stuck in his thick skin was the point of a small metal needle. Sandalwood wafted to his nostrils, but was gone before he could identify it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Stone focused on his wrist. The nanites pushed the needlepoint out and he caught it in his other hand. He held the tiny metal fragment out to the ambassador and stared at the small puncture. Catching a glint of something in the light, he looked closer. Just as the ambassador was about to grab the needle, Stone retracted his hand and dropped the needle into a pocket.

  The ambassador was babbling on about how sorry he was and how his ring must be defective. Stone could see the man was worried. His initial odor of garlic and sulfur shifted to grapefruit, the smell of fear. Stone did not know if the ambassador was afraid of him or afraid of what the Prophet would do. Whatever the man was trying to accomplish had backfired. No one on Holliman’s Rift knew Stone’s skin was too thick to use as a pincushion.

  Staring at the small hole, Stone saw what looked like a slight shadow. It was a small cluster of tiny machines grouped around the needle mark. Nanites, even his own, were too small to see with the naked eye. They were only visible when clustered in dense groups, millions in number. Stone could see these minute machines only because they were assembled together.

  He watched in fascination as a smudge of dust swarmed into the closing pinhole. The hole pulsed open. The tiny machines attempted to climb back out, but were dragged back into the hole. Stone noticed Allie staring at his wrist over his shoulder. Everyone else was focused on the ambassador’s bumbling apology and Bethy and Agnes’s upcoming shopping plans.

  Stone felt a slight tingling in his hand that subsided when he flexed his fingers. The needle mark disappeared, completely healed. He held his wrist up to the ambassador. “Look. I’m fine. It didn’t even scratch me.”

  The ambassador looked relieved and said, “I’m here to officially invite you and your most charming cousin to the Prophet’s residence this evening. The enclave is about to commence and the Prophet would like you and your chosen guests to witness this event and celebrate with him afterward.”

  Stone nodded. “May I send the Prophet a guest list later or do you need to know now who we will be bringing?”

  The ambassador grinned. “Please. It’s not necessary. Just bring them along. One or one hundred, it doesn’t matter. The Prophet would be most pleased if you would bring your entire ship’s compliment. He is most anxious to meet your drasco friends. He has also heard much of your new piglet friends if you have any with you?” He let the question hang in the air.

  “The number of peo
ple we can bring from the ship is up to the captain. I’m sorry, but the Platinum Pebble is a new ship, still on her shakedown cruise. Much of the crew is working hard to bring it up to Stone Freight Company standards.”

  “Nonsense.” The ambassador shrugged away the explanation. “You have a nice stable orbit and no one will bother your ship at all. You just let Agnes go along with you and she will be delighted to guide your whole company to the Prophet’s residence hall.”

  Stone frowned, “Oh, Agnes is going along with us?”

  “Why certainly—”

  “Muy, joy joy!” Bethy interrupted. “Agnes and I are going to be such good friends.” She grabbed the tall woman by an elbow and said, “She and I are going shopping right now.”

  A rumble started through the crowd as the people nearest the canopy heard about the shopping trip. It spread rapidly becoming louder. In the blink of an eye, the ambassador’s bodyguards surrounded him and ushered him back through the crowd, despite his protests.

  Agnes said, “But you promised you would talk to these people and give winners of a lottery a personal tour of your ship.”

  Stone glared at his cousin, “Beffie-pie said what?”

  Bethy glared back. “These are my fans, Trey. I had Gonzo broadcast a message as soon as we came out of hyperspace. Of course, I’m going to meet with them and, of course, I’m going to give a few of them a tour of our ship, just not right now.”

  Stone started to say that it was his ship, not our ship, but he was drowned out by the crowd noise. Whatever Agnes planned on saying, went unheard.

  Bethy’s voice boomed over the crowd. Gonzo’s equipment amplifying her voice above the increasing noise. “Chill, chill. I promised to have a sit down with you folks and give some of you a tour of the Platinum Pebble, but just not right now. Joy?”

  A woman’s voice shouted back. “I came all the way from Freemont to be here. I’ve been standing in the hot sun for hours. You can’t deny me a glimpse of heaven.”

  Bethy said, “Chills, I’m sure it was a long travel from, like Freeloader or wherever.” Her mispronunciation of the woman’s town brought shouts of “shame,” and “parasite.”

  The woman shouted back. “Are you calling me an idler? How dare you!”

  Bethy said, “That isn’t what I—”

  Her voice was drowned out by a man shouting above the crowd noise. “You take a hundred off-worlders to the enclave and you’ll be denying good Holliman’s Rift citizens their rightful chance to be there. Everyone who goes in comes out rich. You’re already rich and now you want to steal what we’ve been working for since the Prophet came to us! Blasphemers!”

  “Selfish users!”

  “Leech!”

  “Bloodsuckers!”

  Stone caught sight of the little girl who had earlier waved at Bethy. The girl pulled a small rubber ball from a pocket. Screaming in concert with her mother, she threw the ball at Bethy. Even in anger, the little girl could not throw the ball with enough force to cause any damage, even if she had been aiming at a table full of grandmother’s antique china. But, the act itself opened the floodgates.

  Dozens of impromptu missiles arced out of the crowd, pelting Stone and his people.

  Allie shouted, “Back to the shuttles. Now.” She grabbed Stone’s arm and yanked him toward the Vance.

  He jerked away, turning toward Bethy. His cousin was frozen in fear. It was obvious she had never had a crowd turn on her this fast. He considered racing to save her, she was family after all, no matter how irritating she was. But, her own protective detail, Riley, Hector, and Skeeter formed a barrier between the crowd and her fleeing entourage. Dollish stepped up with them, strengthening them. He began backing toward the Vance, staying ahead of the surging crowd, swatting down errant impromptu missiles that came his way.

  Gonzo grabbed Bethy and pulled, but she resisted him. Dollish grunted and pushed Riley toward Bethy. Riley wrapped a long arm around her slim waist, picked her up, and carried her to the Marvin. Stone watched him the whole way. Bethy was slight and didn’t weight that much, but the boy was struggling the last few feet up the ramp. Dollish, Skeeter, and Hector continued trying to hold the crowd back, while the rest of Bethy’s people scrambled up the ramp into the safety of the shuttle.

  Stone stopped at the top of the Vance’s ramp. Stepping inside was so inviting, but he could not hide away. The crowd was rushing forward, but he and his deckhands were much quicker than the mob. Dollish, Hector, and Skeeter were not so lucky. The mob caught them.

  Dollish stood his ground, giving better than he got, pressing the crowd back. Hector went down. Skeeter abandoned his friend and rushed up the ramp as Hector disappeared under a pile of swinging fists. Skeeter hit the emergency hatch button, slamming it closed. Dollish tried to get to the downed man but was pushed back by a surge in the crowd.

  A bullet spanged off the side of the Vance. Stone ducked, knowing that ducking would only help him against the next bullet. “Man down,” he shouted. Jumping off the ramp, he plowed into the rioting crowd. He could picture Preacher Mary beginning to spin up a sermon while the tri-barrels on her shuttle-mounted cannon spun in harmony. “Hold your fire, Mary. Shuttles to lift off on my command.”

  Stone had a rough idea where Dollish and Hector were as he began pushing bodies out of the way. A fist came out of nowhere, aiming for his nose. He had been blindsided in a brawl once when he was a midshipman. He did not like it then and decided he would not like it this time either. Ducking under the fist, he counter punched, sending a man to the ground.

  A wedge of deckhands formed around him and they plowed through the crowd. Someone swung a truncheon at Stone’s head. He caught the club in one hand, twisted, and yanked it free. He did not plan to use it, but if he threw it away, someone else might pick it up and use it.

  Jamming it into his waistband, he took a moment to punch another man in the face. As the man fell to the ground, Stone caught sight of Hector trying to get to his feet, only to be knocked down again. He jabbed an arm in that direction and pushed through the shoving crowd. Dollish looked as if he was trying to swim through the crowd to reach Hector, but he was swimming upstream and barely holding his own against tremendous odds.

  The riot had turned into a melee. No one knew who to attack and who to run from. Stone’s garish outfit was the only marker people recognized, but since he was on the same level on the flat spaceport landing pad, only the closest rioters to him would recognize him. Even when someone had the bad sense to attack him, Stone pushed the civilian to the side, letting the Galactic Marshal deputies drop them on the tarmac with either a few bruises or a broken bone or two.

  Stone finally reached Hector. Two big men, warehouse lumpers or bar bouncers from the size of them, had the boy on the ground, pummeling him. Stone grabbed one man by the neck and pushed him to Allie.

  Allie said, “Hey! A-hole. I’m more your size than that boy. Eat this!” She put a fist full of knuckles into the man’s mouth, crunching teeth and splitting lips.

  Stone caught the other man’s arm at the peak of a swing. He wrenched him around, banging him into Tuttle’s immovable body. He had not realized the ex-marine was beside him.

  She caught the man as he started to rebound off her. She spun him in a tight circle, twice, then pushed him to another Galactic Marshal, who turned him a few more times before letting him fall to the tarmac in a dizzy pile.

  Stone grabbed Hector by the collar and lifting him to his feet.

  Hector came up with clenched fists, ready to fight, but he recognized Stone. He mumbled his thanks. He turned to race toward the Marvin, but with the hatch closed, the ramp retracted, and swarms of rioting civilians around it, he hesitated.

  Stone commanded, “The other shuttle.”

  He turned to hunt for Dollish, but his friend was standing next to him. He sported a bloody nose and smiled through a split lip. “Hey, Boss. These folks throw one heck of a fun welcoming party, don’t they?”

  Stone shouted. “
You’ve been hanging around Hammer and Tuttle too long, Tim.”

  Tuttle laughed over the crowd noise. “Don’t blame me, Boss. Hammer is the one teaching him to fight. I’m a lover, not a fighter,” she said as she gut-punched a fat woman and stiff-armed a man to the deck.

  Stone said, “Let’s retreat in good order, people.” He shoved Hector at Tuttle and said, “Watch him.” Grabbing Dollish by the shoulder, he pushed him into the midst of Galactic Marshals.

  A wedge reformed with Allie at the tip. There was little for Stone to do except follow and step over the bodies that his fiancée was leaving in her wake.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Stone was the last of his people to get through Vance’s hatch. He hit the hatch button, shutting out the crowd and the noise. He pushed the retract ramp button and said “Pilot, let’s take it up slowly. Make sure we don’t have anyone clinging to the outside. External audible launch warnings on maximum.” He glanced around the shuttle cabin. “Pilot, have you heard from the Marvin?”

  The pilot was chuckling. She said, “Listen to this, Boss.” The internal shuttle speakers transmitted crying, cursing, and shrieking in a cacophony of babble from the Marvin. Over it all, he heard Bethy shouting at the pilot to take off, an order that was obviously being refused.

  Stone smiled, “Let the Marvin know it’s okay to head back to the Pebble. Slow, smooth, and noisy. Let’s not hurt civilians any more than we already have. Keep the inertial dampeners on high, shall we?” He sighed. Apparently, with Dollish, Tuttle, and Hammermill all calling him boss, the nickname was going to stick.

  He turned to the shuttle bay. Scattered among the deckhands were a few dozen civilians who had taken refuge from the riot in the shuttle. Most were women and children, but a few older men were scattered among them. The inertial dampener was set for their comfort. Most of his deckhands sprawled out wherever they happened to be, ignoring the civilians crowded into the overstuffed chairs or hanging onto seat restraints. Tuttle had Hector spread out on the bar spraying anti-coagulant on an arm gash. Dollish was kibitzing as he daubed a medicated swab at his split lip.