your work, she thought, turning and striding briskly for
the door.
"I don't care what anyone says, Ms. Hap. I think
you're going to do a great job."
It was one of the communications technicians.
Channa smiled pleasantly at her and said softly, noting
her name tag. "Frankly, Ms. ... Foss, I don't give a
damn wAoi you think. I'm only concerned with the
quality of your work. Which, at the moment, you're not
doing." She continued down the corridor.
"Excuse me." Simeon said to Channa when she was
out of earshot
"Yes?"
"Did you have to be so nasty to her?"
"Simeon, it would be unprofessional of me to allow
people to choose up sides like that We can chew out a
section chief, but interfering in the chain of command
is petty and divisive and causes morale problems. Per-
haps I'm not going to be here very long, and I'm
unwilling to leave that sort of mess for someone else to
sort out \bu've got to nip these things in the bud."
"Nipping is one thing. You cut her off at the knees."
"Oh, I see. You think I was unkind."
"You were\ In feet, you were downright cruel."
Channa stood a moment, hands on hips, looking
down thoughtfully. Then she shifted her weight and
crossed her arms. "Simeon, I noticed that Tell Radon was
here twelve years longer than standard retirement date."
"He wasn't ready to go," Simeon replied suspiciously.
"But six years ago he submitted his resignation,"
"He changed his mind and withdrew it. I wasn't
about to force him out He's a friend."
28 Amu McCaffrey &? SM. Stating
"Un-hunh. Well, when I glanced over some of the
meeting records for the last few years, I couldn't help
but notice that everyone behaved as though he wasn't
there. On the infrequent occasions when he did make a
contribution, it was immediately questioned. Or don't
the words 'Is that right, Simeon' sound familiar?"
"So what are you getting at?"
"I'm getting at the basic difference in our styles,
Simeon. When I'm cruel, it's to prevent more pain fur-
ther down the line. When you're cruel, it's to get your
own way."
"What!"
"Surely you know that consideration for a friend can
go both ways? Maybe Tell Radon stayed because he
knew you would prefer it that way. You've had things
your own way around here for quite a long while now.
I don't imagine you were looking forward to breaking
in someone new. Some stranger who might want to do
things their way instead of using the nice, smooth
routines you've worked out over time."
"Where are you getting this bullshit?"
She shrugged. "It's thatoryoujustgotso used to seeing
him humiliated on a daily basis that you didn't notice it
anymore. Either way, it probably felt the same to him."
"I know him, Hap; you don't. If Tell had a problem,
he would have said something. Why would he suffer in
silence when he knew he could come to me?"
"Have you looked at the recordings?"
"I don't have to look at anything. I was there."
"They'll confirm what I've said, you know."
You coryciuin-plated bitch! "Has it occurred to you that
you're biased? You've been finding fault with me since
we said hello. Let me tell you something, omniscient
one, you can't get a good impression of Tell from the
recs. He hated the damn meetings, 'Hell,' he used to
say, 'these frigging meetings make my brain melt.' He
rarely spoke at meetings. They just weren't his style."
THE CITY WHO FOUGHT
29
"Was it customary to question his every comment
when he did speak?"
"You're making a simple request for confirmation
sound like attempted murder."
Channa bit her lower lip. "Simeon, the recs will con-
firm that what I saw is there, very plain to see,
unmistakable, dear, obvious. You might find a review
of the meeting recs illuminating. Okay?"
After a moment's reflection, something in Simeon
opened like an eye and he saw a bitter twist to Tell
Radon's mouth. Tell had always described it as "gas,"
but...
"You fight dirty, Channa," he said.
She blushed, but her expression remained hostile.
"I'm angry," she said honestly. "My career is in ribbons
because you wanted him to stay on. So when I saw..."
She bit her lip again. Then she went on more calmly.
"You have to be careful how you use expressions like,
'you cut her off at the knees' and 'you were cruel,'
around me. It tends to set me off. Also, you could have
taken me at my word instead of turning self-
righteous."
"Yeah... I'll remember that" He paused. "Ylcnow, if
you're really so hot to get out ofhere, I'll back your trans-
fer request to the hilt. Since I didn't get what I asked for
last time, I figure I'm still owed a few favors...."
"Ho no. The last time you backed someone to the
hilt, the hilt ended up protruding from between my
shoulder blades. Thank you so much. Now that I think
about it, I intend to give Central Admin plenty of time
to forget this mess and my starring role in it. You're
stuck with me for a couple of years, at least, so you'd
better get used to it. Oh, on the subject of overlooking
things...'
"Yeah?" What now? Is there duston the tight fixtures?
"I came face to face with a little boy in one of the aft
engineering compartments."
30
ArmeMcCaffinsy&SM. Stating
Silence.
"What? No comment? Does this mean that you
know about him? After all, you are able to view all areas
of the station."
In the silence that followed, she walked over to the
wall and leaned casually against it. "He was gone
before I could react. But you know what's really
strange? There is nothing on file about such a kid." The
silence lengthened. "Simeon?" she asked with some
asperity.
"A little boy?"
"Yes, Simeon, about twelve years old N Standard N
give or take a couple of years. In the aft power com-
partment. A restricted area, I believe. A kid who looks
and smells like a Sendee mud-puppy. Whose child is
he? What can you tell me about him? Don't even try to
tell me you know nothing. Kids don't acquire a patina
of dirt like that overnight He also looked like he'd been
eating regularly, if not well. So someone's been looking
out for him... minimally."
/ don't think saying "You're cute when you're angry" would
be a very good idea right now, Simeon thought. He froze
her image and scanned it for temperature variations
and pupil dilation. She was angry on behalf of an aban-
doned child rather than at him. Which makes a nice
change.
Besides, he could use an ally with this problem.
"He calls himself Joat," Simeon confessed with a
sigh. "I don't know how long he's been here. I dis-
covered him by accident myself. He's mechanically
brilliant. The area he's staked out as his own just
stopped needing repairs. That's probably the only
reason I investigated. I mean, there are enough
squeaky wheels around here. Why take notice of one
that's quiet? Then I noticed that the last repair made in
that section was two years ago. I got curious about
nothing ever going wrong. So I went on a prowl, using
THE CITY WHO FOUGHT 31
mobile bugs, and kept, well, softpersons refer to it as
seeing things out of the corner of their eyes. I always
thought that had something to do with blinking, you
know, eyelashes getting in your line of sight or some-
thing. But I kept seeing these flickers of movement and
I don't blink. By turning up my sound reception I could
sometimes hear little scrapes and movement, but there
was a sort of'white noise' masking it It seemed unlikely
that everything else in the area was running perfectly
with the exception of my sensors, so I decided to do a
stakeout. Eventually, he got careless and wandered
into my line of sight. The first time I spoke to him, blip,
he disappeared. It was a long time before I could get
him to talk to me. You'll note I said talk, not trust. He's
incredibly wary. I can't believe he was clumsy enough
to let you see him."
"Tvioyears?"
Leave it to you, you bitchoid, to pick out the pertinent mfor-
mation. "I said the last logged repair was two years ago.
It's been known to happen. What can I say? Some-
where from two years to two months, who knows?"
"Who is he, Simeon?"
"His story is that he ran away from a tramp freighter.
Joat told me that the captain won him from his uncle in
a card game. I know, I know, that sort of thing's illegal,
but it does happen out here in the boonies. The tramp
left abruptly and went somewhere not listed. Joat has
never had it soft, but apparendy, the captain he ran
from was of a different order ofbrutality altogether."
Channa wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like something
out of Dickens."
"Yeah, well, the more things change..." and he left
the sentence dangling. "What are you going to do?" he
asked warily. After his first, disastrously wrong,
impression, Channa hadn't struck him as a bleeding
heart Would she suggest flooding the compartment to
flush the poor kid out?
32
AnneMcCaffrey fef SM. Stirling
"We've got to get him out of there. We can't leave a
little boy in a dangerous and restricted area. It's illegal
at best and irresponsible by any standard."
"He's been badly hurt and frightened, Channa. He
doesn't want to be with people. The little guy can
barely tolerate me. He likes machinery better than
people, and I qualify as a borderline case. Besides, even
/ can't find him if he really doesn't want to be found.
Maybe we should leave him alone for the time being.
He's where he wants to be."
Channa looked up with her jaw set. "Simeon, no
child wants to be alone in the dark and the cold of a
power room, or wherever he's lodged himself. He
needs and deserves to be taken care of. It's his right."
"I agree in principle, but I think he needs more time.
I'll take the responsibility."
"What does that mean?"
"I'll take full and complete responsibility for what
happens to him."
Channa brightened. "Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"Okay," she said, "I'll call up some information on
adoption procedures and we can get things underway."
"What?" I'm always screaming what? at this woman. Pm
beginning to feel like a demented parrot.
"Well, what else did you mean when you said you
would accept responsibility?"
"That, if anything goes wrong, I'll answer for it." /
swear, if I had hair I'd tear it out. Softshells have some
advantages after all. But, what is this ... this .. . wench
trying to do to me?
"Great! If he gets killed or maimed, you'll accept a
discommodation? Well, how big of you!" Channa cut
Simeon off when he began to splutter a protest "By
now you should know that I listen to what you say,
even when you don't. I promise you, Simeon. I will
always call you on it when you try to shut me up or
THE CITY WHO FOUGHT
33
fob me off. You're not going to shuffle this one off,
buddy. I won't let you."
"What are you talking about? I didn't put him in this
situation. I want to help the kid. Hell, I am helping. I just
don't see any need to rush him. The feet that you saw him
may mean that he's almost ready to come out on his own.
I'm certainly opposed to coercing him. Geeeze but
you're hostile! You're so willing to believe the worst about
me that every time I talk to you I feel like my circuits are
being realigned. Am I really such an evil bastard? Or,"
and he changed his tone from plaintive to trenchant,
"could it be that you really are the most bloody-minded,
impossible woman I have ever met?"
"Oh, Simeon," she drawled, "you have no idea how
difficult I can be. Just cross me if you want to find out"
A chill settled in Simeon's mind. Does that mean that so
far she's been reasonable? Gahf
"You're about to become a father, Simeon. That's
what full and complete responsibility for a child means.
Congratulations, it's a boy. If your word is good."
"They're not going to let me adopt a kid."
"Why not? You've been extensively tested for
emotional stability, you have a responsible job. You
even appear to care very much about his feelings.
Do you think such a wounded child, of his age, is
going to have prospective parents lining up to take
care of him? I think you've got a very good chance."
She clapped her hands and rubbed them together
gleefully. "So... let's get to work on it."
Mart'an presented the menu with a flourish and left
them with a bow.
Channa looked around wide-eyed at the dimly lit,
subdued elegance of the Perimeter Restaurant There
were even actual beeswax candles burning on the
tables; a fortune for material and air-bills both.
No pleasure Ifaspetidmgxmwbodyebe's money, she thought
34
Atme McCaffrey & S.M. Staling
The Perimeter was paying; something of a goodwill
gesture. And it was logical for her to get acquainted with
one of the station's premier tourist attractions.
SSS-900's finest restaurant was just down from
the north-polar docking extension; the outer wall
was a hundred-meter sheet of synthmet set on clear.
Stars rolled huge and bright beyond N fixed stars
and the frosty arch of the Snakeshead Nebula, and
the bright moving points of light that were shuttles
and tugs. Within, the floor was of glossy black stone
set with squares of gold N SSS-900 processed a lot
of gold as a by-product N and the tables were made
of real and precious wood, glossy under the snowy
linen tablecloths. Waiters moved amid a quiet chink-
ing of silverware, savory smells wafting from the
platters they carried. A live orchestra played some-
thing soft and ancient.
"Stars and comets N a little rich for this outposter!"
Channa said. "I'd heard of the Perimeter, but somehow
I never expected to actually come here."
Patsy grinned. "C'mon now, Hawking Station wasn't
an asteroid minin' center. Leastwise, not of the sort oui
sainted Simeon cut his teeth on."
"Well, no... but I couldn't afford anything like this
when I was at home. Didn't have the time, either. After
I graduated and started pulling assignments, I've been
mostly at outposts. Worse than Simeon's."
Waiters filled water glasses, laid their napkins in
their laps, brought warm rolls and softened butter.
Everything except brush our teeth and massage our feet,
Channa thought. It was a little unnerving. Most places
you asked for the selection, told the table what you
wanted, and a float brought the meal to you. The sheer
expense of having live human beings do all this!
"I'd never've et in here if it weren't on the station's
ticket," Patsy confessed in a whisper during a lull in the
service. "Or unless a date was really tryin to impress
THE CITY WHO FOUGHT
35
me. More relaxin with another female N you kin
concentrate on the food without insultin' 'em.
"If this weren't complimentary, I wouldn't be here
now, either."
They grinned at each other.
"Well, thank you fer invitin' me," Patsy said. "I
woulda thought you might invite that med-tech you
were talkin' to last night."
"Please, I'm looking forward to this meal. I won't be
able to eat if I remember him. Have you heard some of
his anecdotes?"
"All of "em," Patsy said, nodding solemnly. "You've a
point thar, ma'am. Chaundra's a nice enough feller,
but his stomach's a mite too strong fer me."
"Besides, you and I have similar taste in music. You
can always talk to someone who likes the same music."
Talk they did, touching on everything from
Geranian folk ballads to eighteenth-century Earth
composers, eventually matching the personnel of the
station to various types of music.
"Simeon? Straight honky-tonk, no question,"
Channa said firmly.
Patsy laughed. "Oh, c'mon, Channa, there's
unplumbed depths there. He's not that simple. It's just
that the minin center assignment came at an impres-
sionable age fer him. Rough, tough rockjack, you
know. His public image."
"Well." She looked down at the menu. It provided
motion holos of the dishes as she ran her finger down
the page. "I'll start with these grumawns, first, in the
fiery sauce. Cleardrop soup. Grilled rack of jumbuk
from Mother Hutton's World N good grief, they do
have everything here! N baby carrots, salad. Spun
pastry bluet confection for dessert, with Port Royal cof-
fee. Castiliari brandy."
"Sounds good. I'll go with the jumbuk too, but...
hmm. Fennel-leek soup first. Wine?"
36
Atme McCaffrey fcf 5JVf. Stating
"I don't usually N" Channa began.
"If I might suggest?" Mart'an appeared at their
table. Appeared, Channa thought, as if he'd blinked out
of some hypothetical subspace. "The Mon'rach '97 to
begin with, a half-bottle. Then, with the main course, a
Hosborg estate-bottled '85. I'll open it now so it can
breathe."
"Sure," Channa said, then sighed with pleasure.
"You know, I was looking forward to the Perimeter,
ever since they told me SSS-900 would be N"
"SSS-900-C, now, Ms. Hap."
Channa blushed."N would be my next assignment"
The first course arrived. The pink grumawns were
coiled steaming on top of a bed of fragrant saffron rice,
the sauce to one side. Channa took a sip of the wine,
chilled and with a feint scent of violets, then lifted one
grumawn on the end of a two-tined fork.
"I did do a lot of work today," she murmured to her-
self. She opened her mouth, and N
The Confederate armor was grinding through the
woods and fields north of Indianapolis. The burning
city cast a pall of smoke into the sky behind them. Diesel
engines pig-grunted as the smooth low-slung shapes of
the tanks and tank-destroyers crashed through brush
and twelve-foot high cornstalks, past the flaming
shards of a farmhouse and barns. The long 90mm bar-
rels of the tank guns swung toward the thin strung-out
lines of the Union convoys, caught in the flank as they
attempted to switch front The fighting vehicles surged
back on their tracks at each monster crack of high-
velocity cannon fire, and the air filled with the bitter
scent of cordite. Chaos spread through the blue ranks
as tracer and cannon fire sent trucks exploding into
globes of magenta fire. A Northern tank dissolved, the
turret flipping up like a frying-pan, a hundred meters
into the air.
THE CITY WHO FOUGHT
37
Behind the fighting vehicles, long lines of men in
gray uniforms followed, advancing with their semi-
automatic rifles carried at the port Here and there an
officer carried a sword, or the Stars and Bars fluttered
from a staff.
"Now!" General Fitzroy Anson-Hugh Beauregard III
said into the bulky mike hung from his vehicle helmet
His command tank was a little back from the edge of
the combat, hull down; the general stood head-and-
shoulders out of the commander's cupola. The turret
pivoted under him, the massive casting moving
smoothly on its bearing race. The long cannon fired in
a flash that seared his vision, just as the opening salvos
of artillery went by overhead. Down along the road, tall
poplar-shapes of black dirt gouted skyward. Another
explosion shook the earth and sent heavy vehicles
pinwheeling like a child's models under a careless boot;
the command-tank's round had hit the tracked carrier
for a Unionist self-propelled gun.
The general nodded. "Nothing to stop us short of the
Lakes," he said. Nothing to stop them linking up with the
British Guards Armored Corps, driving southeast out of
occupied Detroit, cutting the Union in two....
"Conceded," Florian Gusky said, and lifted the
visor of the simulation helmet. He sighed heavily and
took a pull of his beer, then looked around the room
as though surprised to find himself alone with
Simeon, blinking away the consciousness of a world
and war that had never been. There was a slight
sheen of sweat on his heavy-browed face and he
worked the thick muscles of his shoulders to loosen
the tension.
"You could play it out to the end," Simeon's image
said from a screen above his desk.
"No dam' point. You've whipped my butt in that
simulation fo^,fromboth Union and Confederate sides."
38
Arme McCaffnq & S JVf. SHr&ng
"I could take a handicap," Simeon said with much
less enthusiasm, Gus noted.
So he nodded. The last time he had beaten Simeon
was in a Caesar vs. Rommel match on the site of Car-
thage, with the shellperson commanding Caesar's
spear-armed host against Panzers and Stukas. Even
then he had inflicted embarrassing casualties.
"Where is she?" Gus asked. There was no need to
identify the female in question.
"She's dining at the Perimeter."
Gus raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "The
Perimeter? That's some salary she gets." The
Perimeter attracted two sets of guests: the rich, and
spacers looking to blow six months' pay on one night.
Simeon laughed. "Nab, she's a guest of the manage-
ment. Patsy's with her."
"Yeah, Patsy likes her," Gus said, his tone indicating
that this revealed a serious and heretofore unsuspected
flaw in Patsy's character. "Can you see them?"
"Yup."
"What're they doing?"
"Talking."
"About us?"
"I don't know. I'm not listening. Now they're
laughing."
"They're talking about us, alright," Gus said gloomily.
"Geesh, Gus, let's get back to the game."
There was a plaintive edge to Simeon's voice. Gus
reached for the helmet and then stopped, a slow grin
creasing his heavy features.
" Isn't it about time we had a drill?" he said, thoughtfully.
"We just had one. About four hours ago, remember?"
"When I was in the Navy we had 'em six times a day,
sometimes," Gus replied.
He knew that Simeon badly wanted to pull Navy
duty. Only a few staff-and-command vessels used
shell controllers and Simeon didn't rate, yet. In the
THE CITY WHO FOUGHT
39
meantime, he put a lot of weight on Gus' experience
as a fire-control officer on a patrol frigate. That had
been some time ago N Florian Gusky had spent a
decade's hard work clawing his way up to regional
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