Man O' War, стр. 67

First, the life-support managers reported on the status of the air and water systems. Next, Reclamation and Recycle reported on the cleanup efforts. They were followed by the colony medical staff, who gave what figures they had on the deaths and injuries that had occurred during the riots. They followed that with a report on what they had done to halt the spread of contagious diseases that might be caused by the sewage backups and water shortages.

Lunch was served in the assembly hall, for twenty minutes only. Having given them what he hoped was enough of a sense of accomplishment to get them charged up, and enough of a break to brace themselves for what came next, Hawkes called the afternoon session to order.

The head of security, a stocky, big-shouldered man named Norman Scully, took the podium at the ambassador's direction. He did not appear very happy. When the assembly heard his report, they were not very happy, either.

The forces Scully had available had been reduced by half. Nearly 190 of his people had been murdered during the riots, along with 30 of the Bulldog's marine contingent—including the pair assigned to guard Peste. Almost 160 security people were missing-—no trace of them to be found anywhere in the Above or the Deep Below. The explanation for it all, given what Hawkes and Jarolic had learned on the outside, seemed simple to Scully.

"We believe that security was the department most heavily infiltrated by the outsiders. Apparently the Earth League has been sending people here for years in anticipation of what they did to us the other day."

"But, Norm," shouted out one of the assembly, "you said you searched the entire colony for this Peste son of a bitch and that he and all the rest of these buzz are missing. What do you mean, missing? Where the hell did they go?"

"Outside."

The single word threw the entire assembly into an uproar that took Hawkes a solid half minute to gavel into submission. Once he had restored order, he gave the floor back to Scully, who said, "The ambassador was set upon twice by people on the outside. It ain't hard to figure out they've got a base out there somewhere."

Cries of "How?" and "Where?" filled the room. After order had been restored, Scully answered them.

"We've checked the old, outer domes, but didn't find any trace of anyone using them. Likewise with the greenhouses, the vats, the factories . . . wherever the outsiders ran to, it wasn't anyplace we know." The security chief paused, then dropped his bombshell.

"There's little doubt that when the colony was first built, some other structure was put together in secret. Most likely it is below the surface. I've got people searching for it now, but it doesn't seem likely we'll be able to find anything for a few days."

The assembly went into an uproar again. Hawkes gaveled them into submission once more, thanked the security chief for his update, and promised that any pertinent facts discovered would be brought to the floor immediately. Then he turned things over to Waters so he could tell his fellow Martians what he had learned about the shipping, pricing, and profits on sponge/mush—both the figures the colony had been given over the years and what the real numbers might be.

As the manager began his speech, the ambassador accompanied Scully to the rear of the stage. Once they were far enough from everyone to talk privately, Hawkes said, "Good job. I liked that touch of bitterness in your voice when you said you didn't have any idea where our runaways could be hiding."

"Have to be careful," answered the big-shouldered man. "These people know me. Had to make it look real."

Hawkes and Scully knew exactly where their enemies were. In the opening days of Red Planet, Inc., an emergency shelter had been constructed to protect the workers in case of a systems failure. It had been closed down and forgotten years earlier—forgotten by everyone except a few old-timers like Scully.

"I agree with you that the League probably put most of its spies in my backyard," said the security chief in a low growl. "But that doesn't mean that they're the only ones. That bein' the case, it wouldn't make much senseto announce to some of them that I'm planning a raid on their brother snakes."

Hawkes had some misgivings about the plan. Even with the reinforcements from the marine contingent, Scully barely had a hundred people fit for combat. After making duty assignments for the minimum colony posts that would have to be monitored, he had only sixty-three troopers to take on his raid of the enemy stronghold— and that included the volunteers he had agreed to take from among the Resolute.

At first it had been argued that perhaps there was no need to go after the renegades, that the colony had more important things to worry about. Hawkes and Scully had pretended to agree, then gone ahead with their plans. Both men felt that having an uncontrolled force roaming Mars—with unknown amounts of supplies and munitions—was a threat too great to risk. They would have enough to worry about when the troopships arrived without having to look over their shoulders for Peste and his fellow traitors.

Traitors? To whom? he wondered. To Mars?

The ambassador turned the notion over in his mind. He had come to Mars searching for the people responsible for his own troubles—the ones who had attacked his ranch and killed his friends. He had hated the thought of Mars his entire life because of his father's tragic death.

Now, he thought to himself, you're acting like a Martian yourself.

As his eyes met Scully's, the ambassador calculated the odds against the older man. Their most conservative guesses had put their foes' strength at three times their own. Adding to that the fact that he would be laying siege to a strongly defended position, one manned by troops armed with weapons far more deadly than