The MP at the gate took in Satok’s furs and leathers and his long hair, his shaman’s feathers, and the cat skull, and shook his head while using a firm, sweeping motion of his forearm and index finger to indicate that Satok should go back the way he came.
“No unauthorized personnel allowed on base, sir. Orders of Captain Fiske.
The officious little jerk was more helpful than he meant to be. “Yeah. but that’s who I came to see Captain Fiske. Tell him Lance Corporal James Satok is here to see him about his mining operations.” What the hell. He had been a lance corporal in the corps once
“A little old to be a corporal, aren’t you?” the kid asked, not bothering to add “sir” this time. “And I’d say you were way out of uniform.”
“Is that what you’d say, lad? Is it really?” Satok leaned forward confidentially, his arm resting casually on the window of the gate house. “Well, now, that may all be very true, but I was a lance corporal just as you’ll soon be if you’re smart and don’t interfere with me. I’ve a load of raw ores of just the sort the company has been looking for, and I can tell your Captain Fiske where the company can get more of them here.”
“Oh, sure,” the kid said with a sneer.
“Hey, if you don’t believe me, come and look for yourself.”
“I can’t leave my post, and if you’d ever been in the corps, you’d know that.”
“Son, I was in the corps long enough to know that playing by the rules too strictly can get you in as deep a pile of shit as not playing by them at all. The ore’s in my vehicle, just over by the trees there. You can keep one eye on the fraggin’ gate all the way. Just come and look and you’ll see why you have to tell Fiske I’m here. Look, I might even be able to cut you in .. .”
Without a word, the guard unfastened the door and followed him to the shuttle.
“Now, the ore is back here,” Satok said, pointing to the cargo area. The moment the guard turned, he hit him over the head with a thick lump of ore he’d set aside for such a use. Then he stripped him of his uniform and put it on. He also took the badge and weapon, which might come in handy. Throughout all this. Luka said nothing. As soon as Satok had the uniform and the weapon, he shook the boy awake.
“Now then, asswipe. How do I find this Captain Fiske?”
The boy, in thermal underwear only, looked about sixteen and his eyes were a little crossed. “He’s not on the base,” he said.
Satok turned the boy’s weapon on him. “I’m tired of playing games with you. punk. You will answer at length and in depth. Where is Fiske and how do I get to see him?”
“But he ain’t here. He’s gone to Shannonmouth to meet with the special investigative team from the company. They’re probably at the village meeting house.”
“You’ve been so helpful,” Satok said. He almost blasted the kid, then thought that if his sell out was going to lead to his being a solid citizen, maybe a fresh homicide wasn’t the best way to begin his new life. So he tapped him with another piece of ore, gently but at the physiologically correct point to insure long unconsciousness, and left him in the woods.
Torkel Fiske danced attendance on Marmion de Revers Algemeine, giving her the complete lady-killer treatment, much to her well-concealed amusement. Though he looked much as Whit had looked at his age, and was really quite a charming boy, Marmion decided that he was totally lacking in his father’s finesse. There was a some what febrile boyish quality about him that was not unappealing. However, it was coupled with a certain calculation and a certain lack of … depth? Soul? She wasn’t sure.
She had prevailed on him to escort her to Shannonmouth because Sinead Shongili, sister of Sean, and Aisling Senungatuk, sister to Clodagh, were still there and she did want a chance to chat with them, as well as visit another of the small communities. She suspected they would be all much the same, but she couldn’t present an in-depth report without some comparison.