"Whyareyoutryingtokillme?"
Soledad looked behind her, saw the freak."Oh, shiiii…" By the time she'd realized she had less than a second to do something, Soledad was already moving, springing backward, going parallel to the ground as the bullet she'd fired off whipped around, homed in and sped for its target: the freak who was right in back of her. She felt the chop of the air as the slug cut across her, over her, past her, and slammed into a guy named Herbert Lewis.
Herbert Lewis hit the ground about a half second after Soledad.
Different than Soledad, he'd be staying down some.
Freaks.
They're faster than us, stronger than us… That's just for starters. Throw in some of them can fly. Throw in some of them can expand to six, seven times their regular size. Throw in that some of them could be sitting on top of a nuke when it went off and it wouldn't hardly muss their hair… That's what we're up against.
So if we can't outrun them, if we can't outfight them, and since we sure as hell can't outfly them, we have to outthink them. We have to be smarter than them. We've got to outscience them. And since that's all we've got, that's what we use.
That's how it is with my O'Dwyer. When you get down to it, there's nothing fancy in the basic technology. Just in the way it's applied.
The bullet I used on the speed freak: BLAM technology. Barrel-launched adaptive munitions. Each bullet has a nose on a ball joint that's swiveled by small piezoceramic rods. Changing the angle of the nose, even slightly, at supersonic speed creates massive amounts of lift. Steer the nose toward the target, the bullet follows. Thing is, for the bullet to work, the target has to be" painted." The bullet has to know what it's supposed to hit. Not hard. Lots of ways to paint a target. Laser. Radar. Flir. Sonar. I used a variation of sonar. Firing the slug activated an IMP which is set to scan for Meta emissions, then it locks on the highest-resonating reading. Since speed freaks' molecular structures are always in a state of hyperkinetic motion… BLAM. Target lock and the bullet flies to wherever the freak is. The real magic is a small—I'm talking microchip small—sensor behind a quartz window that catches the signal and controls the piezoceramic rods that direct the bullet. Couldn't do that with a conventional slug, one from a weapon that uses a hammer to fire the bullet. But that's the beauty of an
electronic gun. Sure, eventually the slug itself'II run out of sufficient kinetic energy, and a moving speed freak could probably outmaneuver the bullet. None of it's a hundred percent solution. It's a start. It's science. Science and good thinking. For every freak, there's a way to stop it. The fliers, the expanders, the terraformers. Even the intangibles and the telepaths. I'll figure out something for them.
One day I will.
Same as in myths and stories they found wooden stakes for vampires and fire for the Frankenstein monster, I'll figure out something for every kind of freak there is.
Only, I won't use silly, make-believe mumbo jumbo; garlic and wolfsbane. I'll use real science and real good thinking.
Technology is my silver bullet.
The last of her gear packed away, clothes changed, Soledad's head was full with thoughts of nothing else except how good it would be to get home, take a bath. Maybe give Ian a call. Definitely give Ian a call. She thought of Yar. She thought of Yar having to write up the op, make copies, distribute them, file them… How long does it take to even get down on paper craziness like going after speed freaks? Long enough to keep you from getting straight home, taking a bath and calling the one you love.
… Love…
She felt bad, for Yar: having graduated from hunting freaks to hunting freaks and pushing paper. Not much she could do about it other than remind herself if she ever had the chance to move up, don't.
Closing her locker, Soledad started from the ready room. A few rows over, sitting on a bench, helmet in hand and head down, was Eddi. She looked up. She saw Soledad giving her a stare and gave one right back.
The two women went a while not talking, staring.
Finally Eddi broke up the nonconversation with: "I'm sorry."
"Sorry's what you say when you spill a glass of water reaching for the salt, not after you put bullets into a guy's chest."
"Then I don't know what to say."
"Who asked you to say anything?"
Eddi put down her helmet and stood. She gave off a heat that held none of the nervous" I screwed up" little girlishness she'd owned a minute prior.
Soledad's fingers made a fist thinking on their own they might be called to do work.
Eddi: "You hate me. You have since first we met."
"Hate's a strong word. How about: I don't like you as much as I can."
"Why?"
"You're an arrogant little bitch."
"So are you."
"You think you're a badass. You think you can take down every single freak there is by your own self, no help from anyone."
"Just like you. I could've been same as you only better." Eddi gave a delicious simper."And that's what's got the bug crawling in you. You want to be freak hunter number one. You can't stand to see anybody take your place."
Soledad, laughing, laughing spitefuclass="underline" "You want to be the biggest, nastiest MTac on the block, go ahead. Take out every freak in the state. See if I care. There're plenty of 'em to go around. I don't hate you because you think," hitting the word for all it was worth,"you're better than me. I… you want to call it hate? All right. I hate you because you want to be me." That wasn't said angry. That was said hurt.
Eddi's face twisted, her expression jumped, confused, as she tried to wrap her head around what Soledad'd said and the emotion she put with it.
"You strut in here knowing all about me, where I came from, how I did in the academy. You come around wanting to be a BAMF like you think I was on my first call. Only, you know what I was that night? A screwup. I broke rules, and that almost cost me my job. I got careless, and that almost cost me my life. Look at it." Soledad craned her neck, let Eddi get a clean look at her throat."Look at it!"
Eddi did. Eddi gave the scar tissue a long stare.
"That's my good-luck charm. You get touching-close to a freak that's trying to kill you and you don't die, that's as lucky as it gets. I
used to hide it. Used to be ashamed of it. Just showed how stupid I was. Not anymore." As if to prove the fact, Soledad ran a hand gently across her burns."I fucked up, I lived to tell and I sure as hell'll never fuck up again. Not same as before. I learned my lesson.
"And you want to be me? I don't need that; I don't need any hero worship. I had heroes. My heroes wiped out half of San Francisco."
Quite suddenly Eddi was hit with some wisdom."… And that's why, isn't it?"
"Why…"
"You don't want to be called Bullet. You don't want a nickname." Eddi nodded at Soledad's tattoo, finally digging its full meaning."They had nicknames, and you don't want to be anything like them."
Soledad went quiet. Truth. She couldn't do anything but say yes to it, then: "I'm going to talk to Yar."
"Ma'am?"
"Nobody died. The cop who's made a mistake is two times as sharp as the one who hasn't. That I know for fact. So I'm going to talk to Yar about keeping you on the element. Hell, he would've anyway, but he should know I… Vin too; we've got confidence in you." Before Eddi could give a thank-you: "You and me are even on screwups at one. It doesn't go beyond that."
"Yes, ma'am." Eddi almost smiled.
Soledad did. She went for the door, stopped. Turned back."It's not my business, but do you have a man or anything like that?"
"No, ma'—"
"Soledad."
"No, I don't."
"If you're at all inclined, you should think about giving Yar-borough a chance. He's a do-right guy. He'll treat you good. And what they don't teach you in the academy: In this life you need somebody."