When he'd gotten over that momentary shock, he realized that something was seriously wrong. The tension in her stance, the way her shoulders were pulled forward. Was she that scared of meeting him again?
The escort hadn't bothered to leave. "Good morning, Mr. Connolly," she said, as if she was greeting one of her maids. She looked at the escort. "You may go. I do think we can trust this soldier with my virtue."
Chip tried not to swallow his tongue. Like that, was it?
"Dr. Thom said we were to stay, miss."
She shrugged. Chip had been very close to dying with Virginia Shaw. You got to know someone's movements and gestures very well, very quickly, under those conditions. That was Virginia nearly exploding, not being casual. "It doesn't really matter. It's not as if this soldier and I have ever wished to be private with each other. And how is that dear little bat Phylla, Connolly. Doing well? Did she recover from her injuries?"
Chip wished that he was a better actor. Or that he had an hour to sit down somewhere and think about all this before he had to reply. Phylla was dead. She'd died rescuing Virginia and her traitorous Korozhet tutor. And she'd been definitely and incontrovertibly a rat.
Something about all this smelt a lot worse than the bats, after they'd been eating sauerkraut. The best he could manage cold was: "Uh. Fine."
"And that darling little rat, what was her name?"
"You mean, um, Behan." Behan had been a bat, and was definitely in the great belfry in the sky. He'd had an argument with a mist-wall of alcohol and a lit Molotov cocktail. "She's fine, too."
"That's the one," said Virginia, altering Behan's species and sex in one fell swoop. "Anyway, Mr. Connolly. Do sit down. I must thank you again for rescuing me. I'm afraid I'm still so tired. Quite dopy, too."
They were talking some kind of code. That much he was quite sure of now. He hadn't even begun to figure out just what it meant.
"Dr. Thom said I must keep this brief," Virginia continued. "I'm under his orders now, you know. He's helping me such a lot, just like my dear Prof did."
Chip needed to sit down after that. "Prof" was what she'd called the Korozhet that had kidnapped her. Things were starting to make sense to him, finally.
So: she was a captive, and, if he understood the code right, being doped by this Dr. Thom. He'd be the medical type who had whisked her away when they returned from the front.
"Er." He sought desperately for a topic. Seeing her again, even dressed like this and obviously in dire trouble, still made him want to fold her in his arms. That, and the circumstances, seemed to have robbed his tongue of anything to say. "How's Fluff?"
"He's run off somewhere," said Virginia, waving her hand vaguely at the window. "I believe he's around, but I haven't seen him for ages. You know he's not very loyal to me."
Well, that was true enough. Fluff wasn't "very loyal" to Virginia. The correct way of putting it was "fanatically loyal." And if he read the handwave correctly, the galago was probably listening at the window. They were several stories up, but that would make no difference to the small primate.
And if that wasn't Virginia's foot touching his leg, then there was a dog under the table. He squeezed it between his own legs and was rewarded with a brief, fulminating look before she gazed off into the distance again.
His heart was beating like a drum, pounding in his ears. He was barely was aware of the door opening behind him. "Good morning, Miss Virginia," said someone behind him.
If Chip hadn't been looking intently at her, he might not have noticed the sudden tightening of the muscles in her neck. "Dr. Thom. What brings you here?" she asked, with a smile. "As you see, I have a visitor. The soldier who rescued me."
Chip got to his feet, looking carefully at the two men who had come in. One—a little alarmed-looking man with a camera—he dismissed from his attention, concentrating on the doctor. He assumed he was the doctor, anyway, from the stethoscope hanging around his neck.
Thom was one of those men whose hair looked like it ought to be on the top end of one of the sculptures in Webb Park, and not attached to a live person. It shouldn't be blond, either. His moustache was a work of art, too. He was easily one and a half times Chip's size, and he walked with a curiously catlike gait. He probably thought it made him look dangerous and sexy.
Thom went over to stand proprietarily behind Virginia. "Of course, Miss Virginia. I told you about him. But it is really time Miss Shaw was allowed to go back to rest." He made no attempt to greet Chip. "If you don't mind, Miss Virginia, Walters is here to get a few pictures for the press release."
The nervous little man snapped frantically. Unlike the photographs Chip had been in lately, nobody made any attempt to pose them together.
"You have a medical problem, Ginny?" asked Chip coolly, measuring things up. "I could deal with it, if you like."
"You and those rats and bats could deal with anything. But not now, Mr. Connolly. You must come and see me again soon."
Chip was pretty sure he got that piece of code, even without catching a glimpse of Fluff shaking his head at the window. "As you like, ma'am."
She reached into her purse. A gun? No, he was getting too paranoid. It was a large bundle of notes, neatly tied up with a piece of ribbon. "The reward I promised you," Virginia said, tossing it carelessly to him.
For a moment, old reflexes surged to the fore. Chip felt himself nearly exploding with in fury. As if he wanted her stinking Shareholder money—!
Then he caught the flicker of desperate appeal in her eyes, and sanity returned. Thinking quickly, Chip lowered his head to hide the snarl and turned the tense set of his shoulders into something approximating a servile bow.
"Thank you kindly, ma'am. So generous of you."
"No, it is only fair," said the doctor jovially. "The workman is worthy of his hire, eh, Miss Shaw?"
"Quite," said Virginia. "Now. If you'll excuse me, Mr. Connolly, I must go back to rest. It is almost time for my medication. Dr. Thom, I'm sure you'll see me to my room."
"Of course," he said, offering his arm to help her to her feet. "Stett, Purvis, see the lance corporal to the gate."
* * *
Walking down through the passages to the servants' entrance, Chip had time to think. This was going to be as tough to crack as the scorpiary. How could he get the rats and bats together? Did he trust Van Klomp? Instinct said "no." He was an officer and a Shareholder, after all. But it would make life a lot simpler if he could.
"So, Vat-boy," said the one guard, giving his elbow a crushing squeeze. "I'm sure you're going to make a generous split of that nice pile of loot you just got."
That snapped Chip out of his brown study. "Do you want to lose that hand?" he asked, in an even tone that would have made more intelligent men back off.
To be a goon, however, a man doesn't need to be very intelligent. The guard laughed. "You think that uniform makes you tough, Vat? Don't kid yourself."
Chip had noticed the firearm in the shoulder holster. "Have you ever seen what happens to someone who isn't wearing a slowshield when they've got a limb inside someone's slowshield and it hardens?" he asked, conversationally. "Couple of stupes like you tried it on a few conscripts for fun. Cut off the one's hand and the other's face."
Chip twisted his arm free and pulled the guard in close. "Want to try? Right now the shield will cut you in half if I move fast enough. Want to chance it, asshole?"
Fury and frustration with Ginny's predicament made Chip irrational with anger at this shakedown. He didn't want Ginny's money, but he wasn't going to give it to her jailors either.
"It was just a friendly joke!" squawked the guard. "Hey, Purvis, tell him to let go of me!"
Chip shoved the man away. "Unfriendly extortion, more likely. Take my advice and find a new line of work, punk. In the trenches, you wouldn't last a day."
They'd arrived at the door. Chip got into the waiting vehicle without looking too closely at the occupants.
* * *
"Lance Corpora
l Charles Connolly, number 21011232334000. You are under arrest," said one of the five MPs.
Chapter 29
Divers and sundry charges and specifications.
CHARGE I: Violation of the Military Code, Article 73 (desertion)
SPECIFICATION 1: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near sector Delta 355, in the presence of the enemy, quit his place of duty for the purpose of plundering and pillaging.
SPECIFICATION 2: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near Sector Delta 355, in the presence of the enemy, fail to afford all practicable relief and assistance to Lieutenant Martin Rosetski, Sergeant Jessica Dermot and Private Jeremiah Mackenzie, in that he failed to excavate and rescue the said Lieutenant Martin Rosetski, Sergeant Jessica Dermot and Private Jeremiah Mackenzie after they were trapped underground as the result of enemy action.
SPECIFICATION 3: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near Sector Delta 355, in the presence of the enemy, endanger the safety of I Corps, Company C headquarters, by abandoning his post in the trench lines.
SPECIFICATION 4: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did, at or near Sector Delta 355, in the presence of the enemy, cast away his issued trench knife and bang-stick, military property.
CHARGE II: Violation of the Military Code, Article 109 (destruction of property)
SPECIFICATION: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near sector Delta 355, willfully and wrongfully destroy a farm tractor, of a value of greater than 500 credits, the property of Shareholder Emil Couteau, by exploding it.
CHARGE III: Violation of the Military Code, Article 111 (reckless endangerment)
SPECIFICATION: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near sector Delta 355, physically control a motor vehicle, to wit, a farm tractor, in a reckless and wanton manner, thereby endangering the life of an allied alien life form of the Korozhet species.
CHARGE IV: Violation of the Military Code, Article 120 (rape)
SPECIFICATION: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near sector Delta 355, sexually assault Virginia Shaw.
CHARGE V: Violation of the Military Code, Article 121 (theft)
SPECIFICATION 1: In that Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near George Bernard Shaw City, steal a knife, the property of Shareholder Henri-Pierre Escargot.
SPECIFICATION 2: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near sector Delta 355, steal a farm tractor, various tools, diesel fuel and brandy, of a total value of over 500 credits, the property of Shareholder Emil Couteau.
CHARGE VI: Violation of the Military Code, Article 130 (breaking and entering)
SPECIFICATION: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near sector Delta 355, unlawfully enter the storehouse, distillery, and machine shop of Shareholder Emil Couteau, with the intent to commit a criminal offense, to wit, larceny.
CHARGE VII: Violation of the Military Code, Article 134 (incitement to mutiny)
SPECIFICATION 1: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, did at or near sector Delta 355, abuse military animals by plying them with intoxicating liquors until they agreed to support him in his criminal actions, which was contrary to good order and discipline in the Army of Harmony and Reason.
CHARGE VIII: Violation of the Military Code, Article 324 (driving without a license)
SPECIFICATION: In that Private Charles Harvey Ignatius Portabello Connolly, Army of Harmony and Reason, I Corps, Company C, was, at or near sector Delta 355, derelict in the performance of his duties by driving on a public road without a driver's license, in violation of Harmony and Reason Planetary Traffic Safety Code, Section 3246-12.
* * *
They took his bootlaces, web-belt, wallet . . . and all the money that Ginny had given him. They put it into a locker and gave him the key. He was sure that the key would be terribly useful.
Chapter 30
Shaw House, Virginia's bedroom.
There was a more than slightly suspicious glint in Dr. Thom's eye as he walked her back upstairs to her room. But Ginny was finding it nearly impossible not to jump in the air and dance down the passage. Two notes down in the wad of hundred dollar notes was her letter to Chip, explaining the situation. Further down the bound stack of money, on a further three pieces of stolen notepaper, were the security details of Shaw House and the fences. Ginny had also taken the liberty of keeping a thousand dollars—she might need bribes—and this was just about the first actual money she'd ever had in her hands. All her life someone else had always paid for everything. It gave her an odd feeling of independence to really have some money of her own that she could hold.
That, and seeing Chip again, made pretending to be doped very hard. She'd endured it before. Now, impatience set in. It was difficult even to concentrate on reading, while she waited. The worst was the lack of news. She sat watching the numbers change on the bedside clock radio. How did the seconds and minutes take so long to pass? The not knowing would kill her. She wished desperately for a phone call—a wild dream, that—or even a TV or a newspaper. Surely Chip could give the information to the press, and get her freed? She'd stopped her ears as best as possible with cotton wool, but she knew that she would just have to resist the Korozhet commands. She was already steeling herself for it.
Then it occurred to her: what she was watching the seconds on was a digital clock . . . radio.
She'd never used it as a radio before. Actually, with a wallscreen TV, she'd never bothered to listen to the radio at all. Before her kidnapping and the murder of her parents, the news had never interested her much. And TV drama had had little attraction for her, compared to good book. As for an alarm—the maids woke you with coffee at the appointed time. The device had been little more than something that had taken her fancy before her implant, and had remained in her room.
After stepping out of her room to make sure that there was no one around, she took the cotton wool from her ears and started to fiddle with the radio. She was rewarded by a blast of music. Hastily, she yanked the plug from the socket, clicked the wall-screen TV on, and wondered how she could have been so stupid as to forget that her room was bugged.
She sat for some twenty minutes staring at the mindless froth on the TV, before going to look carefully at the clock radio. There was a small dial marked "volume." With it turned close to the minimum, she plugged it in and listened. It was music. She fiddled the dials and heard voices. It was a talk show. Never had such a thing sounded so sweet.
Ginny took up her station in bed with a clock radio between her ear and the bed, and a pillow on the other ear, and soap opera on the TV. Ginny hoped that the listeners liked the soapy.
News was something few people missed, until they were denied access to it. Ginny listened eagerly. And then in horror.
" . . . ilitary police today arrested accused rapist Lance Corporal Charles Connolly only minutes after the soldier had attempted to extort money from his alleged victim, Virginia Shaw, the daughter of our late Chairman. Ms. Shaw has been in seclusion since her terrible ordeal but, according to witnesses, felt that she had to confront her attacker and overcome her fear. Dr. Fred Thom, Ms. Shaw's personal physician, described her as 'very distraught, but very courageous.' Ms. Shaw granted a private exclusive telephonic interview to HARBS news."
Virginia listened to a voice,
not wildly unlike her own, explain how she wanted to move on from being a victim to being a survivor.
"Ms. Shaw has requested, on medical grounds which have been supported by her personal physician, Dr. Thom, that she be spared having to meet her attacker again. According to her Solicitor, John Lo Lee, if leave is granted she will only have to lodge suitable depositions with the court, as there is strong evidence against the accused already . . ."
* * *
Before this, Virginia had needed to get out of her home/prison for her own sake and for the good of the cause she hoped to support. Now, she needed to get out of here for Chip. And not all the guards in the universe were going to stop her.
He'd been arrested minutes after he'd seen her. She'd bet he had not even had a chance to read the first love letter she'd ever written. She'd struggled with that letter. It was something she didn't want anyone else to read, ever, but that she'd realized that Chip might have to use to convince people.
She could only hope that no one had gone through that bundle of notes after she'd given it to him.
Now she had to come up with an escape plan.
Twenty minutes later she was once again in her bathroom, water running, discussing it all with Fluff. "I need one as a weapon, Fluff. And I will need a strategy once I get out, to stop them just arresting me. The trouble is, other than the rats and the bats, and Chip, I don't know who I can trust. And I've got to get out of here to save him. They execute people in the military for rape, Fluff."
The little galago looked distinctly worried. "Señorita . . . it is true that I can get the key to the garden equipment shed, but the chainsaw she is too heavy for me to carry to you. No, we will have to try the guile. Escape. Then together we will go out to rescue Señor Chip. He is a gallant soldier, even if he has usurped me from your affections," he said loftily.
"Oh, Fluff! It's not like that!" protested Virginia, hugging him. "Besides, you have so many girlfriends there among the rats . . ."