"No, you only get one to a target. When it completes its assignment, it disappears. Don't worry, Jake, I've got other stuff I can use."
"The question is," Sam put in, "what kind of stuff are they going to throw at us next?"
"Don't know, Sam," I said. "They're probably wary of Carl now. They know he has potent defenses. I have a feeling they'll want to keep their distance. Are they still closing?"
"Yeah, but it looks like they're maneuvering into position for something. Probably lining up for a concentrated mortar barrage. Those have to be paramilitary vehicles. They've got far more armaments than your average civilian roadster."
"This isn't Terran Maze. What road regulations they have here, if any, aren't exactly enforced to the letter. I'm willing to bet it's Zack Moore back there. Sam, give me a skyband channel."
"You got it."
"Breaker, breaker," I called, using the age-old skyband hail. "Breaking for those three goodbuddies at our back door-come on?"
"Back at you, goodbuddy," came Zack Moore's voice. "Jake McGraw, is that you? Fancy meeting you here."
"Yeah, fancy that. Zack, old boy, you and me got something to settle. But what say we leave my friends out of it? This is strictly between the two of us."
"Negatory, Jake. Fact is, l have a personal grievance against a few of them. Especially the tall skinny bitch―what's her name―Darla? None too friendly, that one. Needs to be taught a lesson or two, and I have ten men here who are excellent instructors. The same goes for that other little whore of yours. Seems she likes to bite, too. And if you're listening, Sean Fitzgore, be assured that I have a full lineup of entertainment planned for you and Liam."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Zack, boyo," Sean said pleasantly. "Though you'll be hard pressed to perform your juggling act after I tear both your arms off."
"We'll have to see about that. Jake, it's really only a matter of time. We have military-rated vehicles here. You haven't got a chance."
I said, "Zack, my only regret is that Darla didn't bite your kishko clean off."
"She'll get the chance, Jake. And you're invited to watch."
"Moore, I've decided that I will personally shut your merte-eating mouth for you."
"You're welcome to try, but you'll have a hard time of it with that bad roller. Am I right? We scanned you veering suddenly back there, and I know you came to Talltree with a roller going sweet on you."
"Nah, I was veering to run over a slug crawling across the road. Looked like you, but the trail of slime wasn't wide enough."
"Good one, Jake. Did you ever hear the one about the logger who had this enormous―"
"Jake," Sam said, interrupting the transmission. "Incoming mail!"
"Sean! Carl! Take evasive action right now!"
The rearview screen showed a stream of something bright and green shooting up from the roof of Carl's automobile. Sean was swerving all over the road. The scanners showed a sky full of blips, hundreds of them, thousands, it seemed. Ninety-nine percent of them were false, but our scanners were sophisticated enough to show those up pretty well. Trouble was, there wouldn't be time to shoot them all down, even as fast as Sam was. Moreover, our mortar rounds don't follow a true trajectory―these came equipped with tiny gas vernier jets to vector them into their chosen targets. That would increase Sam's "swing around" time as he used up precious microseconds to process continually changing data.
But Carl was helping.
"Fifty-six real blips," Sam said. "That's it, Carl! Get 'em at the top of the arc! Forty-two, forty-one…"
Carl was firing his magical weapon continually―doubtless it, too, was under some sort of computerized control.
"… eighteen, seventeen…"
Just then another piece of the bad roller broke off, wafted past the cab like a gigantic snowflake, caught the slipstream and disappeared. The rig lunged to the left and I fought to get it under control.
"Sorry, Sam!" I yelled.
"Keep moving! Three of 'em left!"
A shell exploded to our right. Shrapnel sponged off the hull.
"Dammit, one got through." Sam said. "Must have MIRVed off one of the ones I registered as destroyed. Son of a bitch."
"Sean? You okay?"
"Right, Jake. We're still with you, but I'm afraid Ariadne's had a relapse. We're losing power very quickly here."
"Have you lost fusion altogether?"
"No, l don't think. Wait a minute."
"Another salvo, Jake," Sam announced.
"Right. Sean, what about it?"
On the rearview screen, I could see the magenta roadster dropping back precipitously.
"Absolutely right, Jake, we've lost it. We're working off a small light-hydrogen combustion engine. Afraid we won't be keeping up with you very well."
"Continue evasive action! Sam? How many this time?"
"About twice as many as before, it looks like."
Carl began firing again, a glowing green tube of energy bristling from the roof of his car like a straight lightning bolt.
"Sam, I want to slow down. Got an idea."
"Do it now!"
I slowed until Sean's buggy was tailgating us. "Sean, listen to me. Do exactly as I say. Sam, I want you to―"
"I know what you're up to. The door is open and the ramp is down."
"Sean, do you see what I want?"
"Right, Jake. We'll try."
"Keep her steady, Jake," Sam warned. "Don't give me more numbers to crunch than you have to."
The rearview showed Sean lining his buggy up for the impossible docking procedure. He faded off, accelerated, drifted back again, all too tentatively.
"Sean! Shoot it in there! It's your only chance!"
He shot. I felt the trailer shift the slightest bit as the roadster dip out of camera range. I switched feeds to the camera inside the trailer to make sure they'd made it, then reached for the switch to take in the ramp. Then a tremendous explosion raked us.
"Sam, did we take a hit?"
"Don't know. Rearview camera's out, though."
"Sean, can you read me? Sean? Liam?"
"Their signal won't punch through the hull, Jake."
"That shell sounded like it could have penetrated the trailer and gone off inside it. Camera in the trailer's out too."
"Afraid you might be right. Damage sensors show a hull breach. Possible one, anyway. No, that may be because the back door won't close and the ramp's stuck. Getting all red lights back there."
"Jake? You gays okay?"
"We're all fine in the cab, Carl. Did you see us take a hit to the trailer?"
"I was looking back. You've got damage back there."
"Yeah. Can you see Sean or Liam?"
"No. The door's halfway down and the ramp's still dragging on the road."
"That's bad. They may have bought it. Carl, does that buggy of yours have any missiles?"
"Sort of. You have to understand something. The weapons can this vehicle are mainly defensive, except for the Tasmanian Devils. And I had to argue with 'em over those."
"Argue with who?"
"The manufacturers. Never mind, can't go into it right now. Anyway, l can't fire at a vehicle unless it's in line-of-sight and it's shooting at me."
"Hell. Maybe―"
"What I can do, though, is maybe screw their tracking radar momentarily."
"Huh? You can?"
"Yeah, I think. I've never tried this gizmo before, but it should work."
"Christ, Carl! Why did you wait till now?"
"I just now figured out what the hell it was for. Jake, you've said that this jalopy of mine puzzles the hell out of you. Well, it does me, too, sometimes. They never fully explained how it's all supposed to work."
"Just what is this gizmo you're talking about?"
"I call it the Green Balloon. That's what it is. A big green sparkly bubble. l launched one once and got out of the car to watch it. I felt itchy all over and my hair stood on end, so I figured it was some kind of electrical phenomenon."