The Complete Hammer's Slammers, Vol. 3

Lindeyar straightened the fall of his jacket and strode into the laager past the combat cars. His bodyguards waited beyond the circle.

The civilians who’d arrived in the other vehicle huddled for a moment. The old man wearing a fur stole and cap of office directed a question at Colonel Priamedes with a peevish expression.

Priamedes snapped a reply and walked after Lindeyar, his daughter at his side. Daphne kept her face blank, but Huber could see from the way she held herself that she was ready to grab her father if his body failed him. Exchanging looks of indignation, the four civilians followed.

The two aircars coming from the south landed with a brusque lack of finesse; one even bounced. Huber leaned back slightly to get a better look between two vehicles of Lieutenant Messeman’s platoon. He’d been right about what he thought he’d seen: the four civilians getting out of the aircars were members of the UC Senate whom he’d seen before when he was assigned to duties in Benjamin, but White Mice were driving and guarding them. Their battledress was as ragged as Huber’s own, and one trooper’s plastron had been seared down to the ceramic core.

The man in the fur cap glared at Hammer. “You sir!” he said. “I’m President Rihorta. Colonel Priamedes tells me you’re the chief of these hirelings. May I ask why it’s necessary to hold these discussions in such a, such a—”

At a loss for words, he waved a hand toward the chaos beyond. His sleeves were fur-trimmed also. As if on cue, a fuel tank in the vehicle park exploded, sending a bubble of orange fire skyward.

“—a place?”

“Well, Mr. President …” Hammer said, putting a hand under his breastplate to take some of its chafing weight off his shoulders. “If I needed a better reason than that I felt like it, I’d say because it’ll convince you that you don’t have any choice. I could burn all of Bezant down around your ears even easier than I took the spaceport that your survival depends on.”

“Bezant is a civilian center, not a proper target of military operations,” Colonel Priamedes said in a tight voice.

“Is it?” Hammer snapped at the Solace officer. “I could say the same about Benjamin, couldn’t I?”

He waved his hand curtly. “But we’re not here to discuss, gentlemen,” he went on. “We already did all the discussing we needed to with those—”

He pointed to the bullet-gouged hull of the combat car he’d arrived in.

“—and with the hogs. We’re here to dictate the end of the war on such terms as seem good to our principals.”

The UC senators walked between the combat cars with as much hesitation as the Solace delegation had shown. One of them was coughing. The air reeked of smoke and ozone, so familiar to Huber that he hadn’t thought about it till he watched the civilians’ grimaces and shallow breaths.

A woman of thirty wearing battledress of an unfamiliar pattern entered the laager with the UC civilians. She nodded to Hammer, then stood at parade rest and watched the by-play with eyes that were never still.

“Masters and mistresses,” Hammer said. His tone was even, but Huber noticed he gripped his breastplate fiercely enough to mottle his knuckles. “You politicians probably know each other—”

The delegations exchanged wary glances, even faint nods. They had more in common with one another than they did with the soldiers and war material surrounding them.

“—and you know Mister Lindeyar—”

The Nonesuch official looked around the gathering, his face without expression.

“—but you may not know Mistress Dozier, who’s the Bonding Authority representative with responsibilities for the contracts here on Plattner’s World.”

The woman in battledress said, “Good day. I’m here solely as an observer, of course. My organization has no interest in the negotiations between principals except to see that all parties adhere to the contracts which we oversee.”

The second starship was in its final approach. Hammer raised his hand in bar. President Rihorta started speaking anyway, but the overwhelming CRACKLE CRACKLE CRACKLE penetrated even his self-absorption after a moment.

When the sound and dazzling corona died away, Sigmund Lindeyar said, “Rather than draw these proceedings out unnecessarily, I’m going to take charge now. Nonesuch has been subsidizing the mercenaries which the Outer States have hired for this conflict. In fact some eighty percent of the charges have come from our coffers—”

“What!” said President Rihorta. “But you’ve been insisting we raise port duties to upgrade the facilities!”

“You traitorous scum,” Colonel Priamedes said in a quiet voice, stepping toward Lindeyar. Daphne tried to stop him. Huber placed himself in front of the Solace officer and held till weakness and Daphne’s efforts forced Priamedes back.

His knees started to buckle. Huber caught him and shifted around to his right side, continuing to support Priamedes while Daphne held her father’s other arm.