So it was that she began to undermine Mildred. At first it was relatively subtle. She began by asking J.B. questions about Mildred, to learn all she could. This wasn’t easy, as the Armorer was laconic to the point of almost being silent on some matters, particularly his relationship with the doctor, and Margia felt sometimes that it was like drawing blood from a stone as she tried to extract information about what exactly their relationship was and how long they had been together, while at the same time trying to deflect J.B. from the one matter on which he could talk freely and at great length: an armory.
Eventually J.B. had told Margia all there was to know about Mildred and what had happened since he had known her, although J.B. himself was unaware that he had so much as mentioned the slightest thing.
Now Margia began her plan of action.
THE FIRST MOVES CAME casually enough. While seeming to go about her business, the blonde would happen upon Mildred while she was learning or teaching medicine with Tammy and Krysty. Casually Margia would drop into the conversation a few of the facts she had learned about Mildred’s past, making passing references to her being a freezie and about J.B. talking of her. She would also remark on Mildred’s medical status, questioning obliquely if a predark doctor was really suited to coping in the Deathlands. On one such occasion, when Margia had left them, a sly grin to herself revealing her satisfaction in leaving Mildred seething, Tammy watched the blond armorer retreat and then remarked, “Watch her… She knows her job but resents the fact that she is just an armorer. And she has a temper that blows up on her, making her do rash things. She schemes. Be careful, Mildred, but don’t let her get the upper hand.”
Unfortunately there was no way that Mildred could prevent Margia from gaining the upper hand with her next move.
This came when Mildred was engaging in target practice with Dean and Tammy. The use of blasters for practice was seen as a necessary evil, as it increased accuracy but at the expense of valuable ammo. So when it occurred, it became a highly competitive event.
A small enclosure had been set up just outside the boundaries of the camp. While the men of the tribe dismantled the camp in order to begin the day’s march to a new position, the women elected to begin shooting practice. An area of three hundred yards was marked out in the dirt, and targets made of a soft wood that had possibly once been beech, but had mutated into a spongy form over the years, were placed at one end. For each group of shooters, a sheet was placed over the target to make the clusters of landed shots stand out more clearly. The group of women taking part divided themselves into seven pairs, there being twelve members of the Gate, plus Krysty and Mildred. Krysty had a nasty feeling that something was afoot as soon as she caught sight of Margia, and her hair tightened almost imperceptibly to her skull. She glanced across at Mildred and noticed that she was scowling.
“Who’s contesting?” the blond armorer said with an air of studied nonchalance.
“Split into pairs as usual,” Jess replied as she checked her blaster, a .38 Smith & Wesson SPL Air-weight M-12 snubbie. She spun the cylinder to check that it was fully loaded, then clicked the cylinder back into place.
“So who are you contesting?” Margia asked Mildred outright.
“As we’re outsiders, Krysty and myself are going to fire against each other. We don’t want to intrude on your own—”
“Or you don’t want to be beaten and shown up,” Margia said casually, her offhand manner masking the sly timing of her interruption.
Mildred knew what Margia was trying to do, as did Krysty. The mutie could feel a sudden increase in the tension, her hair creeping closer to her neck. She shot a glance at Mildred, almost willing her not to rise to the bait. She had guessed from some of the things Margia had said over the past couple of days that the blonde had gained a more than reasonable knowledge of Mildred’s past life, and so would know of her Olympic experience as a target shooter in the days before skydark. And she would know that Mildred had pride in her ability. Normally Mildred would be able to keep a cool head, but after the niggling provocation of the past couple of days, it was to prove almost impossible.