"No."
"Well, they're these big worms. They ain't too smart, and they're mainly used to keep the ducts clear, but they have this real complicated reproductive process, so I guess they qualify for a kind of liberty."
"Shouldn't we do something to stop him?"
"You and me? You want to try stopping Renchett when he's blind drunk?"
"No, I guess not."
"Me neither. I figure if it's anybody's problem, it's Rance's. He can deal with it."
Ten
"You Rance?"
Rance groaned inwardly. A shore patrol squad leader was marching smartly across the topmen's lounge, heading directly for his table.
"Yeah, I'm Rance."
The woman who was with him-she'd said her name was Amansa-looked at him questioningly. "Are you in trouble?"
"Not me, but my men probably are."
The squad leader was typical shore patrol. Her white uniform was crisp and starched, her harness and boots were polished to a high gloss, and she wore a holstered sidearm, complete with lanyard, on her left hip.
"Rance from the Anah 5?"
"That's me."
"Some of your men are trying to break into the dauquoi facility."
"I didn't know that this base had a dauquoi facility."
Amansa looked from the squad leader to Rance. "Do you have to go?"
While Rance scowled, the squad leader answered for him. "He can help us sort this out or we can open fire on his men. They're past reasonable restraint, and I can't risk them breaching the dauquoi environment. The Therem would shut us down."
Rance shrugged. Why the hell had Elmo stayed on the ship? This should be his job.
"I'll come with you. I should be able to talk them out of it."
"It'll take some talking. They're crazy drunk, and they got hold of some chemical explosive."
"What?"
"You know, some of the women make it."
"To give out to drunken troopers on a rampage?"
"Some old girls got a funny idea of subversion."
Rance downed his drink in one gulp. He grimaced at Amansa. What could he do? "Maybe I'll catch up with you later."
"You never know."
The squad leader laughed. "There's plenty more where she came from."
"Let's go."
A servo suit was parked in the corridor outside the topmen's lounge. All its lights were flashing. As the squad leader climbed into it, she glanced down at Rance.
"Are you checked out on one of these?"
Rance shook his head.
"That's okay. We don't have a spare, anyway."
Rance had never liked the shore patrol. They demonstrated the same two traits on every recstar: arrogance and attitude.
"Do I follow you?" he asked.
"We can take the emergency chute."
The servo suit ground into action. Jogging to keep up with the hulking metal humanoid, Rance felt like a child who was forced to trot alongside a striding adult. It did nothing for his dignity. The emergency chute brought them to a rough-hewn axial tunnel. The squad leader's suit took a few moments to regain its equilibrium after the jolt of backgrav, but when she had it under control, she gestured with one of the giant pincers.
"The entrance to the dauquoi section that your men are trying to break through is up ahead at the next intersection. It's a secondary air lock."
"Why didn't you gas them down and be done with it?"
"Because I don't want the stuff hanging around in the atmosphere for ten standards or more. It'd be easier to blast them."
"You're all heart."
"I look after my own."
"Then you can't blame me if I do, too."
The area around the air lock was like the aftermath of a small battle. Six troopers were backed up against the air lock, glaring defiance at the same number of shore patrol who surrounded them in a half circle. Back in the corridor, a dozen or more troopers were penned up in mobile holding cages. They were bruised and bloody. The line of shore patrol moved aside to let Rance and the squad leader through. Rance noted, not without a certain pride, that two servo suits had been knocked out of commission. They lay flat on their backs, completely immobilized.
"Your boys have had quite a time at the expense of my women."
Rance did his best not to smile. "So it would seem."
"You've got one shot at getting them to give up. Then I have my people open fire."
Rance took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Summoning all of his authority, he marched smartly toward the air lock.
"What the hell is going on here?"
"That's far enough, Rance!"
"We bad, Rance!"
Renchett and a trooper whom Rance didn't recognize were in front of the group. They were both holding metal tubes that were obviously homemade bombs. Renchett also had his knife in his hand. Rance halted.
"What are you going to do, blow me up?"
"We ain't going to be taken," Renchett told him.
"You ain't going to get out of here alive if you don't stop this stupidity. You ain't bad, you're out of control."
"We know what we're doing." Renchett's voice was decidedly slurred.
Rance folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. "Yeah? So what are you doing?"
This seemed to confuse the drunken troopers. Renchett and the one Rance didn't recognize looked at each other blankly. Finally Renchett staggered slightly and made a sweeping gesture with his bomb.
"We jus' wanted to take a look at the worms."
"They seem all ready to cut you in half."
"Wha'?"
"Look behind you."
On the other side of a transparent panel in the air lock, there was a line of dauquoi. They all wore silver projector helmets. Since they had no arms or legs, just highly developed telekinetic powers, the caplike projector helmet was the worms' favorite weapon.
"Slimy suckers can' stan' up to us."
"And you can't stand up to a projector helmet. Besides, if you don't give up right now, the shore patrol's going to grease the whole lot of you."
"These shores ain't going to open up on us."
The squad leader's voice came from behind Rance. "Oh, yes, we are. You can count on it."
There was a sullen silence. Even in their condition, it had to be clear to the troopers that they had painted themselves into a corner. Rance relaxed slightly. It was not just a question of giving them a way out. Renchett, at least, seemed to sense this.
"So what happens to us if we give up? What punishment do we pull?"
Rance glanced back at the squad leader. "Can I set the punishment on this, or do you want to turn it into a major beef?"
The squad leader wasn't immediately ready to play the game. "They've got explosives, and they messed up two of my women."
"No real harm's been done. You'll take them in and mess them up a bit and then I'll have them back on the ship in a pod. You don't want to lose me a bunch of my best fighters."
The squad leader was wavering. "I don't know. You know how many times I heard that?"
Rance sighed. "If it goes to superiors, nobody looks good."
"Listen, just get them out of here. We'll pick up the women who sold them the explosives." "You know who they are?"
"We've got an idea. A cross figure on the thumbprints will confirm it."
The idea that women subversives were manufacturing crude bombs on a recstar was a shock. Even that they were able to manufacture bombs at all. It was also a bad sign. Things had to be deteriorating.
"What will happen to them?" Rance asked.
"They'll be termed."
"It's a mess."
Rance turned back to the troopers. "Okay, here's the deal. Five standards in a pod, even if we jump."
Anyone in a punishment pod during a jump didn't live through it. Renchett was outraged.
"Five standards for getting drunk?"