“We’ll have a free hand, of course,”
Bradford smiled again. “You are a very strange man, Colonel Falkenberg. The talk was that you were utterly loyal to the CoDominium. When Dr. Whitlock suggested that you might be available I was astounded.”
“I had very little choice,” Falkenberg reminded him.
“Yes.” Bradford didn’t say that Falkenberg had little more now, but it was obvious that he thought it. His smile expanded confidentially. “Well, we have to let Mr. Hamner meet you now. He’s the Second Vice President. Then we can go to the Warner estate. I’ve arranged for your troops to be quartered there, it’s what you wanted for a training ground. No one will bother you. You can say your other men are local volunteers.”
Falkenberg nodded. “I’ll manage. I’m getting rather good at cover stories lately.”
“Sure.” Bradford beamed again. “By God, we’ll win this yet.” He touched a button on his desk. “Ask Mr. Hamner to come in, please.” He winked at Falkenberg and said, “Can’t spend too long alone. Might give someone the idea that we have a conspiracy.”
“How does Hamner fit in?” Falkenberg asked.
“Wait until you see him. Budreau trusts him, and he’s dangerous. He represents the technology people in the Progressive Party. We can’t do without him, but his policies are ridiculous. He wants to turn loose of everything. If he has his way, there won’t be any government. And his people take credit for everything—as if technology was all there was to government. He doesn’t know the first thing about governing. All the people we have to keep happy, the meetings, he thinks that’s all silly, that you can build a party by working like an engineer.”
“In other words, he doesn’t understand the political realities,” Falkenberg said. “Just so. I suppose he has to go, then.”
Bradford nodded, smiling again. “Eventually. But we do need his influence with the technicians at the moment. And of course, he knows nothing about any arrangements you and I have made.”
“Of course.” Falkenberg sat easily and studied maps until the intercom announced that Hamner was outside. He wondered idly if the office was safe to talk in. Bradford was the most likely man to plant devices in other people’s offices, but he couldn’t be the only one who’d benefit from eavesdropping, and no place could be absolutely safe.
There isn’t much I can do if it is, Falkenberg decided. And it’s probably clean.
George Hamner was a large man, taller than Falkenberg and even heavier than Sergeant Major Calvin. He had the relaxed movements of a big man, and much of the easy confidence that massive size usually wins. People didn’t pick fights with George Hamner. His grip was gentle when they shook hands, but he closed his fist relentlessly, testing Falkenberg carefully. As he felt answering pressure he looked surprised, and the two men stood in silence for a long moment before Hamner relaxed and waved to Bradford.
“So you’re our new colonel of constabulary,” Hamner said. “Hope you know what you’re getting into. I should say I hope you don’t know. If you know about our problems and take the job anyway, we’ll have to wonder if you’re sane.”
“I keep hearing about how severe Hadley’s problems are,” Falkenberg said. “If enough of you keep saying it, maybe I’ll believe it’s hopeless, but right now I don’t see it. So we’re outnumbered by the Freedom Party people. What kind of weapons do they have to make trouble with?”
Hamner laughed. “Direct sort of guy, aren’t you? I like that. There’s nothing spectacular about their weapons, just a lot of them. Enough small problems make a big problem, right? But the CD hasn’t permitted any big stuff. No tanks or armored cars, hell, there aren’t enough cars of any kind to make any difference. No fuel or power distribution net ever built, so no way cars would be useful. We’ve got a subway, couple of monorails for in-city stuff, and what’s left of the railroad . . . you didn’t ask for a lecture on transportation, did you?”
“No.”
Hamner laughed. “It’s my pet worry at the moment. We don’t have enough. Let’s see, weapons . . .” The big man sprawled into a chair. He hooked one leg over the arm and ran his fingers through thick hair just receding from his large brows. “No military aircraft, hardly any aircraft at all except for a few choppers. No artillery, machine guns, heavy weapons in general. Mostly light-caliber hunting rifles and shotguns. Some police weapons. Military rifles and bayonets, a few, and we have almost all of them. Out in the streets you can find anything, Colonel, and I mean literally anything. Bows and arrows, knives, swords, axes, hammers, you name it.”
“He doesn’t need to know about obsolete things like that,” Bradford said. His voice was heavy with contempt, but he still wore his smile.
“No weapon is ever really obsolete,” Falkenberg said. “Not in the hands of a man who’ll use it. What about body armor? How good a supply of Nemourlon do you have?”
Hamner looked thoughtful for a second. “There’s some body armor in the streets, and the police have some. The President’s Guard doesn’t use the stuff. I can supply you with Nemourlon, but you’ll have to make your own armor out of it. Can you do that?”
Falkenberg nodded. “Yes. I brought an excellent technician and some tools. Gentlemen, the situation’s about what I expected. I can’t see why everyone is so worried. We have a battalion of CD Marines, not the best Marines perhaps, but they’re trained soldiers. With the weapons of a light infantry battalion and the training I can give the recruits we’ll add to the battalion, I’ll undertake to face your forty thousand Freedom Party people. The guerrilla problem will be somewhat more severe, but we control all the food distribution in the city. With ration cards and identity papers it should not be difficult to set up controls.”
Hamner laughed. It was a bitter laugh. “You want to tell him, Ernie?”
Bradford looked confused. “Tell him what?”
Hamner laughed again. “Not doing your homework. It’s in the morning report for a couple of days ago. The Colonial Office has decided, on the advice of BuRelock, that Hadley does not need any military weapons. The CD Marines will be lucky to keep their rifles and bayonets. All the rest of their gear goes out with the CD ships.”
“But this is insane.” Bradford protested. He turned to Falkenberg. “Why would they do that?”
Falkenberg shrugged. “Perhaps some Freedom Party manager got to a Colonial Office official. I assume they are not above bribery?”
“Of course not,” Bradford said. “We’ve got to do something!”
“If we can. I suspect it will not be easy.” Falkenberg pursed his lips into a tight line. “I hadn’t counted on this. It means that if we tighten up control through food rationing and identity documents, we face armed rebellion. How well organized are these FP partisans, anyway?”
“Well organized and well financed,” Hamner said. “And I’m not so sure about ration cards being the answer to the guerrilla problem anyway. The CoDominium was able to put up with a lot of sabotage because they weren’t interested in anything but the mines, but we can’t live with the level of terror we have right now in this city. Some way or other we have to restore order—and justice, for that matter.”
“Justice isn’t something soldiers ordinarily deal with,” Falkenberg said. “Order’s another matter. That I think we can supply.”
“With a few hundred men?” Hamner’s voice was incredulous. “But I like your attitude. At least you don’t sit around and whine for somebody to help you. Or sit and think and never make up your mind.”
“We will see what we can do,” Falkenberg said.
“Yeah.” Hamner got up and went to the door. “Well, I wanted to meet you, Colonel. Now I have. I’ve got work to do. I’d think Ernie does too, but I don’t notice him doing much of it.” He didn’t look at them again, but went out, leaving the door open.
“You see,” Bradford said. He closed the door gently. His smile was knowing. “He is useless. We’ll find someone to deal with the technicians as soon as you’ve got everything else under control.”
“He seemed to be right on some points,” Falkenberg said. “For example, he knows it won’t be easy to get proper police protection established. I saw an example of what goes on in Refuge on the way here, and if it’s that bad all over—
“You’ll find a way,” Bradford said. He seemed certain. “You can recruit quite a large force, you know. And a lot of the lawlessness is nothing more than teenage street gangs. They’re not loyal to anything. Freedom Party, us, the CD, or anything else. They merely want to control the block they live on.”
“Sure. But they’re hardly the whole problem.”