Tranquility Down

Part Ten

by G. Lawrence

In this sequel to Tranquility in Darkness, we find Grey, Kris, and their allies struggling to establish the Lunar Republic as a legitimate nation. This old-style science fiction story has been presented in 11 parts. After this one, there is one more part to go.

Recap: Grey and Kris have been reunited on the Farmer family farm in Southern California, but the Congress-in-Council is sending covert agents to deal with the troublemaker once and for all. All characters are over 18 years old. All rights reserved.

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Chapter 10

FATAL MISCALCULATIONS

"Jenny? What are we doing in the sticks?" her cameraman asked.

"Patience, Ronnie," Jenny Oliver said, standing next to her unmarked runner parked down the street from town square.

"I have a date tonight," Ron protested.

"You're going to be a few days late," Oliver said. "I have a tip Hope Valley is the place to be, and until we get a story, berryville is our new home. Find rooms for us?"

"Yeah, some dump at the end of town," Ron said. "You're Smith and I'm Jones. Creative, huh?"

"You're a regular Hemingway, Ronnie," she said. "Let's put on the wigs and go to that pub over there. The Strangled Chicken or something like that. Whatever we're looking for will end up there eventually."

"You're buying this time," Ron said, setting the runner's minicams on auto search. "And if someone recognizes you, don't expect me to take the first punch."

"Coward," she said.

"Weak bridge work," he replied.

As they walked down the sidewalk to enter the tree lined plaza, they noted the old storefronts and a great deal of activity around the seed store where business was lively. They did not notice the ordinary cargo transport that slowly circled the plaza and eventually came to a halt beside the quaint town hall.

________

"Terrific omelet, Mrs. Farmer," Gott praised, wiping his chin.

"Thank you, Simon," Marsus replied, pouring more juice for Kris. "We haven't had this much breakfast company in a long time. Least not on a Friday."

"Friday?" Kris asked.

"Yes, Kris," Marsus laughed. "You space folks sure must have a hard time keeping up with the calendar. Ben loses track, too. End of June already. Last day of school for the children."

"Speaking of the children," John said, hearing footsteps on the stairs.

"We're ready, Mom," Jaybee said as he and Susie entered the kitchen.

"Where's Ben?" Susie asked.

"Out near the highway, just like yesterday," Marsus reported. "And you remember what he said. You keep your distance when he's in the field, and if any strangers come by, you run up to the house as fast as you can and stay with Mister Gott."

"We remember," Susie said.

"Ben told us if there's trouble, he doesn't want any humans getting in the way," Jaybee said, looking at the fearsome energy blaster holstered on the enforcer's hip. And the slightly less powerful energy weapon Kris was wearing. "What kind of trouble's going to happen, Mom?"

"You never mind about that. Be sure to thank your teachers for putting up with you all year and bring home good marks," Marsus lectured, giving each of them a bagged lunch.

"School transport's coming," John noticed, looking out the window.

As Jaybee and Susie went to the door, Gott jumped up, tucked his sidearm under his long jacket, and escorted the children down to the road.

"These last couple of days haven't been easy," Kris apologized, helping Marsus clean the dishes. "And I know Grey feels awful about what your family is going through. Say the word and we'll evaporate."

"No," John refused. "If agents are coming for him, Ben needs an edge. He knows the ground here. That stretch along the highway is cut with creeks and irrigation channels."

"We've been through worse, Kris dear," Marsus assured her.

A moment later Gott reappeared, coming up to Kris at the sink.

"Are you sure about this?" Gott asked.

"Governor's orders," Kris said without enthusiasm. "You watch John, I watch Marsus. That's the way he wants it."

"We could help him down there," Gott persisted.

"Grey hired you because you're a professional. He expects you to obey orders. He let me stay because I promised to play this out his way," Kris said. "Grey's a lot more worried about the Farmers than he is about himself."

"Yeah, I picked that up," Gott said. "Any clue how long this is going to take?"

"Not much longer. Silent Wind will be ready Monday afternoon, and the Council knows once Grey reaches M.I.S.T. he'll be out of their reach. They've got to make their move soon."

Gott went to look out the window, not able to see where Grey was working from the kitchen.

"Relax, Simon," Marsus said. "If any runners come up our road, Mrs. Aslym will give us a call."

"And I've got our Security Computer on my com link," Kris said, holding up a small transmitter. "There aren't going to be any surprises."

Marsus finished the dishes, then packed a sandwich and several biscuits into a basket before starting for the door.

"I'll deliver that," Gott said, reaching for the basket.

"No, I want to," Kris said.

"It's my job," Gott protested.

"He's my boyfriend," Kris disagreed.

"My how you youngsters go on," Marsus sighed.

"Youngsters? I'm older than you are," Gott said.

"It's a state of mind," Marsus answered, handing the basket to Kris. "Better let Kris do it, Simon."

"Why?" the enforcer asked.

"Because she wants to kiss her fella, that's why," Marsus smiled.

Kris flushed to be so obvious, then dashed out the door and ran down the hill.

"Not trying to tread on your rep," Marsus said.

"Don't spread it around, but I'm not here to boost my reputation," Gott said, sitting down at the table and reaching for another cup of coffee. "Not saying this association won't be good for my career, and the pay is generous enough, but for me, that's not what this is all about. Any more than it is for you people."

"For us?" John asked.

"When you stood up to Mason, it wasn't just about the pumping station," Gott said. "When Waters said he wanted to take the battle somewhere else, you refused, even though it put your family in harm's way."

"We owe him a lot," John explained.

"No one owes anybody that much," Gott disagreed.

"What does an old mercenary like you owe him, Simon?" Marsus asked, sitting next to Gott with a friendly hand on his arm.

"Not what I owe him, what I owe myself," Gott said. "Don't know what it is, but something's happening here. Something's changing, and I want to be part of it. Not many men in my profession get a second chance."

Marsus laughed. "I'm sorry, Simon, I'm not laughing at you," she quickly said. "But every place that young man goes, it seems to affect people the same way." She reached over to her husband and hugged his arm with a twinkle in her eye.

"Soups on, Ben," Kris shouted, trotting across the pasture toward the roadside creek.

Dressed in a clean jumper, Lassiter and combat scanner laying at his side, Grey stood up and waved her on.

"Quiet this morning," Kris said.

"Unfortunate," Grey agreed. "This waiting is beginning to exhaust my patience."

"Try living on an aircraft carrier for six months just to fly a handful of missions," Kris said.

"Perhaps this isn't so bad after all," Grey reconsidered, looking at the green trees, tall grasses, and the rolling meadow behind him.

Kris passed him the basket and Grey zealously ate the biscuits before opening the sandwich wrap. A bottle of apple juice was eagerly gulped down, too.

"You've developed quite an appetite," Kris said. "Until these last couple of days, I've never seen you eat like you enjoyed it. Mar's cooking really that good?"

"She does make commendable biscuits," Grey said. "But you're correct about becoming engrossed with the food. When we get home, I'll ask the Medical Computer for a treatment program."

"Enjoying food isn't a disease," Kris laughed. "And don't try to fool me, either. I know you can eat stale rations when you want to, but I also know you're a good cook. You work hard in the biosphere bringing in healthy crops, and you know how to manage a spice rack."

"You're discovering too many of my secrets," Grey said. "If this information becomes widespread, it will dispel my mystique."

"That'll be the day," she said, sitting close to him on the embankment. "Can I stay here until those guys show up to shoot you? I promise not to get involved."

"You're still angry with me," Grey concluded.

"I'm mad, I'm hurt, I'm pissed off, but I also understand your feelings. I'm a very confused girl," she said, putting her head against his shoulder.

"Can I assist?" he asked.

"No, this is my problem," she said, shaking her head. "You can be a stubborn son of a bitch sometimes, but you've needed that quality to survive. I can't expect to show up out of the blue and suddenly change you. At least, not in just one year."

"If it helps, I intend to share my feelings more," Grey said, stroking her oddly colored hair. "I've already come to depend on you and the other... you and the planning committee more than I ever expected to depend on anyone. It's a strange feeling, and not a very comfortable one. To be honest, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't try."

"Really?" Kris said, turning up for a kiss.

"No, but Marsus said that's what you want to hear," he replied.

"You're kidding me, right?" Kris said, pushing up to her knees. "You better be kidding me, moonman, or I'm going to shove your face right into this creek."

Grey answered by pulling her into his lap and giving her a slow, passionate kiss, lingering on her lips.

"We need to go on vacation more often," Kris sighed.

"Think the Council's agents will give us an extra twenty minutes?" Grey suggested playfully, though the way Kris responded, perhaps the idea wasn't so far-fetched after all.

"Overlord to Traveler, big problem," the Security Computer suddenly announced over the transmitter.

Grey and Kris immediately reached for their sidearms and tactical equipment.

"Traveler to Overlord, what's the situation?" Grey asked.

"Unfortunate news, Governor," Security said, dispensing with code names. "A group of terrorists have seized hostages in town. Outside communications are being suppressed, and a statement has been issued demanding revenge for the casualties at the Aslym farm."

"These can't be McNair's men," Grey guessed.

"Agreed," Security confirmed. "No doubt it's a cover story intended to divert responsibility."

"I'm going into town. Be prepared to provide an update the moment I arrive," Grey instructed.

"Entering the town may prove unwise," Security advised. "The enemy has the odds and the ground. Recommend you return to M.I.S.T."

"We've invested too much effort in this mission to quit now," Grey said. "Review our tracking records, try to identify how many agents we're up against."

"Acknowledged," Security said, abandoning the channel.

"They must have decided my position here is too strong," Grey decided, displeased he hadn't anticipated their counter strategy.

"Security could be right. If we return to M.I.S.T., they won't have any reason to keep the hostages," Kris said.

"The purpose of this mission is to compromise the Council. Force them into negotiations. If I abandon these people, I'm the one whose integrity is compromised," Grey explained.

"Okay, let's get going," Kris agreed.

____________

The plaza was rapidly filling with people as a loose ring of lightly armed citizens surrounded the entrance to town hall. The sheriff was yet to arrive, or even acknowledge his calls, but one of the deputies was trying to control the anxious crowd. Investigating the situation from behind the scenes, Jenny Oliver was thrilled to discover her anonymous tip had been right.

"Ronnie, is any of this getting out?" Oliver asked.

"Not yet," her cameraman said. "But we're recording everything. When our connection goes through, we'll be nationwide in minutes."

"I'm ready to start," Oliver said, adjusting her bright orange press tunic. "Where are my best shots?"

"We've got stationary cams focused on the town hall and a nice right angle shot of the crowd from the feed store," Ron said. "I'll use the mobile unit for close-ups."

"Sounds good. Let's ... Hey, what's going on over there?" Jenny asked. "Who are those people who just drove up? Christ, it's Simon Gott, the enforcer. Ronnie, let's go."

Jenny and her cameraman ran through the town square, pushed past a group of on-lookers, and found a strange young man asking questions of the female deputy sheriff.

"Who's that guy?" Jenny asked someone in the crowd. "That skinny kid with the blaster on his hip."

"Ben Brown," a man in the crowd said. "He's the Lone Ranger who shot up McNair's gang."

"Ronnie, look," Oliver said, lowering her voice as she pointed to a blonde woman getting out of the runner. "Do you know who that is?"

"Sure, that's Kris Fairfield," Ron said, also on a whisper. "But I've got even better news. Take a real close look at Ben Brown."

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God," Oliver squealed, jumping up and down while hardly making a sound.

She pushed forward with her cameraman following, getting within a few meters of Grey and Deputy O'Rourke.

"I don't know who you think you are, but we're going to wait for Sheriff Gasparian," O'Rourke said.

"I'm the one they're looking for," Grey said, Kris standing to one side and Gott on the other. "How many hostages are there?"

"Tell him what he wants to know," Gott said, the tall enforcer not the sort of man people ignore.

The deputy discovered herself confronted by three civilians armed with energy blasters, not exactly common tools of the trade in small towns.

"I remember you from the Aslym place," Deputy O'Rourke said. "Your name is Brown."

"His name is Waters!" Oliver shouted from the edge of crowd. "Grey Waters. And his girlfriend there is Captain Kris Fairfield."

"It is Kris Fairfield," a voice said, recognizing her.

"Sure is," another agreed.

"Who did she say Ben is?" someone asked.

The crowd burst into comment, gesturing and debating. Deputy O'Rourke stepped back and looked Grey over, not sure if she believed it.

"What's this all about?" O'Rourke asked.

"How many terrorists are there, and what is the status of the hostages?" Grey asked again.

"Near as I can tell, five or six men took over the town hall," O'Rourke said. "Took about twenty people hostage, mostly teachers and students setting up for the graduation ceremonies."

"Any way inside except for the front door?" Grey asked.

"Back door's locked. Windows have their bomb shields down. It's the main entrance or nothing," O'Rourke said. "And there's at least two of them just inside the door."

"Ben. Ben," Trammel Jones called out, the big man emerging from the crowd. "They got my little Melissa in there. Sorry, Farmer, they got your youngsters, too."

As Grey sensed the anguish of Marsus and John, he felt a boiling rage that he quickly needed to suppress. Stay calm, he recalled. Stay focused. Remember your training.

"Can anyone get me a floor plan of the building?" Grey asked.

"I can. Easy to download if you have a link," a member of the volunteer fire department said.

Kris walked over with her com unit, set the transmitter on the Security Computer's restricted channel, and began asking questions.

"Trammel, do you still have those directed charges we used to clear the tree stumps?" Grey asked.

"Sure as hell do, Ben," Jones replied.

"Get them," Grey requested. "Deputy O'Rourke, keep these bystanders away from the building. Mister Gott, please assist the deputy."

Grey turned from the wide marble steps leading up to the front entrance and walked around to the side of the building, finding a wall that looked completely sealed off due to a lack of windows or doors.

"Security, have that floor plan?" Grey asked.

"Affirmative," Security said.

"How about heat sources?" Grey requested.

"Most are confined to the auditorium on the first floor," Security reported. "A corridor runs the length of the building near your position, then turns left along the back wall to a loading dock, then left again to a kitchen area. I assume you'd like to reach the auditorium from the rear?"

"Affirmative," Grey acknowledged.

"The kitchen has a service access that enters the auditorium near the stage door."

"Targets?"

"One near the foyer to the left of your point of entry," Security advised. "One in the rear hall guarding the loading dock. At least three, possibly four or five in the auditorium mixed among the hostages. Target acquisition in that area will be difficult."

"Governor Waters, I presume?" a female voice said from behind.

Grey turned to see the obnoxious media reporter walking in his direction with a cameraman following close behind.

"I have no time right now," Grey said, studying the readouts Security was downloading to his tactical scanner.

"What's going on? Why are you here? Why are these terrorists in Hope Valley? What are you going to do about it?" Oliver asked in quick, breathless sentences.

Grey continued his tactical review until Jones ran up with the equipment he'd requested.

"Can these charges blow a hole through this wall?" Grey asked.

"Spent ten years in the demolition corps, Ben. I can blow a hole through just about anything," Jones assured him.

"I need you to focus the direction inward against these bricks," Grey said, indicating a small section of wall. "I need a hole large enough to jump through."

"I'll get the job done," Jones promised. "Ben, are you really the Governor of the Moon?"

"Maybe not for much longer," Grey replied.

Jones stepped to the section of wall Grey had indicated and carefully packed the charges into the cement grooves around the old red bricks. He was just getting to the fuses when Kris came around the corner.

"What's the plan?" she asked, giving Oliver a dirty look before turning her back on the camera.

"Trammel is going to create a breach in this wall," Grey explained. "I will enter and eliminate the terrorists, thus freeing the hostages. Give us three minutes, then have the crowd make loud noises to camouflage the sound of the explosion."

Grey could see Kris was fighting against every instinct she had to object, but finally she agreed. In response, he drew his Lassiter and blasted the camera spying on their conversation, causing Oliver and her cameraman to retreat.

"Kris, I know you spent many years of sadness after the war because your boyfriend died," he said softly enough that only she, and maybe Jones, could hear. "I've been reluctant to let us become too close because I don't want you to feel that pain when I die. Other than failure, it's the one thing that worries me the most."

Kris looked into Grey's soft gray eyes as if seeing him for the first time. Suddenly so much of his reluctance, his distance, became clear to her. It explained too much not to be the truth, and it embarrassed her to realize she had not thought him capable of such insight. Or compassion.

"I love you, moonman," Kris said, giving him a kiss. "You go in there and rip their guts out. Whatever happens, I'll be okay."

"If I'm unsuccessful, you and Gott will need to clean this up," Grey said with a concerned frown.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it. But don't count on us taking any prisoners. Three minutes?" Kris said, glancing over at Jones.

"Three minutes, Captain Fairfield," Jones said, setting the timer.

Kris ran back to the town square, quickly waving to the people and telling them what she needed. Grey took fifteen paces back from the charges, held his sidearm ready, and counted down the seconds.

An enterprising cameraman, Ron already had a back-up minicam focused on the event. Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd, several shotguns went off at once, and the charges blew, a cloud of dust bellowing off the side of the building.

Grey started forward before the charges even exploded, diving head first where he hoped there would soon be a hole. The swirl of dust invaded the inner hallway as he dove through, landed on the floor, and bounced off the corridor wall before coming up on his knees. Movement on his flank, the guard at the front of the building, had barely registered on his tactical scanner when Grey fired, hitting the target square in the chest as it poked around the corner. Someone went down and a gun rattled against the tile floor. Grey saw the body through the smoke and fired again, the ferocious energy pulse fatally tearing flesh and bone.

Not waiting for opposition, Grey jumped up and started running for the rear of the structure, turning the corner while the loading dock guard was still wondering what the commotion was. Grey fired first, hitting the man in the shoulder. The guard already had his gun out and took aim but Grey rolled off the wall and shot him again. When the man went down, Grey fired a third time to make sure he would never get up.

"Security, what have you got?" Grey whispered as he passed through the loading dock and turned toward the front of the building.

"Limited movement in the auditorium," Security said. "Suggest they may be suspicious but haven't discovered your angle of attack."

"Can you identify targets by the heat registration of their weapons?"

"Negative. Handguns do not discharge heat signatures until fired," Security said.

"I'm going in. Take care of Kris if I don't make it," Grey requested.

"Governor, remember the law enforcement programs we've practiced," the Security Computer said. "The train station scenario."

"It's a lot of targets to select out," Grey worried.

"You can do it, Grey," Security encouraged, the rare use of his first name not unnoticed. "Don't let the environment or odds intimidate you. Look for an edge."

"Thanks, Security," Grey said, though he doubted the advice would prove very helpful.

But as he walked up the corridor toward the auditorium, he saw a cart parked just outside the food service area. The humans were planning some sort of celebration, and the cart held a large cake decorated in blue and gold icing. Over the handle of the cart, he discovered a white jacket like those worn in Tranquility's cafeteria. He quickly tried the jacket on, adjusted the fit, and picked up the cake while holding his Lassiter underneath the tray. Then, taking a deep breath, he walked to the door and gave it a shove with his foot.

"Whose birthday is it?" Grey asked in his loudest voice, quickly scanning the auditorium as he stepped inside.

Thirty or so rows of seats rose in front of him toward a pair of exit doors, the first several rows partially filled with two dozen frightened humans. There was a raised stage behind him to the right. At the far right, there was a piano with a human sitting at the keyboards. Some smaller rows of folding chairs were to his left where another human sat.

"What the bloody hell is this?" the human to the left shouted, rising to his feet.

Another human sitting in the fifth row, behind everyone else, started drawing a gun. A third human at the far right end of the first row also motioned into his jacket. At the very top of the auditorium seating area, near a door to the foyer, a human with a shotgun took several steps down the aisle.

Grey dropped the cake and opened fire, hitting the man to his left through the midsection. The man with the shotgun was a harder target, but Grey scored a hit, ripping the man's gun arm at the elbow, then scored a second shot through the gut. From the fifth row, an automatic pistol was raised and discharged three times even as Grey began sidestepping. Though nearly mixed with the hostages, the target was close enough for Grey to single out, an energy blast tearing through the man's throat.

The sounds of the gunshots had barely begun to echo off the chamber walls when Grey ducked and backstepped, turning to aim at the man in the front row. He waited first to make sure a weapon would appear, but he didn't have to wait long. The man in the front row stood and fired, but his aim was slightly high. Grey's return fire wasn't, ripping vital organs with his first shot, then hitting the man in the head. A quick eject of the Lassiter's energy pack allowed Grey to reload, but he wasn't quite quick enough.

"Look out!" someone in the seats yelled.

He glanced to his right and saw the human behind the piano already had him targeted. Grey tried to step sideways, but a gunshot tore through his upper right arm and into his chest, causing an explosion of pain and blood. The impact sent him spinning to the ground.

Twisted out of position, Grey was forced to transfer the Lassiter to his left hand as he fell to his knees. A bullet hit the tiles next to him. Another cut through his sleeve. When he saw the piano human aim for a head shot, Grey fired from the difficult angle, then allowed himself to roll flat on his back and fire again, hitting the dangerous human both times. When the target slumped against the blood-splattered wall, Grey had a clear shot to finish him, hitting the human through the upper torso.

Suddenly the room was quiet except for gasps of surprise and the sobs of frightened children, the entire battle having lasted but a handful of seconds. Grey staggered to his feet and looked for additional targets, but the sudden movement of the hostages, performed without fear of retaliation, indicated the danger might be over.

"Wow, can you teach me to do that?" Jaybee asked, the first to reach Grey's side. Until that moment, Grey hadn't even noticed him, but now he saw Susie, Melissa Jones, Mrs. Higgins, and other familiar humans.

"Is anyone hurt?" Grey asked.

"Only those a-holes," Mrs. Higgins said. "They were waiting for you, you know."

"Looks like they found me," Grey said, sickened by the shattered bodies lying in all directions.

"The children shouldn't see this," one of the teachers said, waving at the young people to turn their heads. Grey completely agreed.

"We must leave here now. Many are concerned for your safety," Grey announced, encouraging the adults to herd the children up the aisles and out of the building.

Grey managed to holster the Lassiter with his left hand and came up the aisle last, tucking his right arm tightly against his side. The pain was bad, about as intense as he'd ever known, and he wanted to escape the town before shock set in. With his mission accomplished, and medical facilities at M.I.S.T. not very far away, he saw no point in lingering.

As they passed through the foyer and out the front doors into the morning sun, Grey discovered the crowd gathered in the town square had swelled to several hundred. The freed hostages quickly ran down the steps to embrace loved ones, and he was pleased to see the Farmer family reunited. Everything was being filmed by Jenny Oliver's cameraman. Kris jumped up the stairs to his side.

"Everyone okay?" she asked hopefully.

"The Council's agents aren't doing so well," Grey said. "Let's find the runner and leave."

"You're not going anywhere," a determined voice shouted.

Grey and many others turned to see six men in dark suits walk to the foot of the marble steps, sidearms exposed on their waist bands.

"Federal marshals," the man said, flashing a badge. "We're here to find out what this terrorist plot is all about. You'll have to come with us, Mister Brown."

Grey looked the humans over and sensed they were serious about their business. And he had no doubt that if they were government agents, they were also in league with the terrorists inside. It was a difficult decision to make, but he decided not to go peacefully.

"Kris, get these civilians out of the way," Grey whispered.

Kris looked around and saw people everywhere. Children, family members, onlookers.

"Back, back," she started shouting, waving her arms and shooing everyone away from the confrontation. Gott took the cue and started doing the same on the other side, helped by several concerned parents.

"We can handle this," Deputy O'Rourke said to the agents, bravely stepping in their path.

"This is none of your business," the lead agent said.

"We're still in Ventura County," O'Rourke said. "Sheriff Gasparian's going to have questions."

"Stand aside, deputy," the leader insisted.

"You're not the law here," O'Rourke said. "Where's your warrant?"

"Open your ears, bitch. Get out of our way or you go down with him," another agent said.

O'Rourke glared at the agents, but outnumbered six to one, she reluctantly stepped aside.

"What about it, Mister Brown?" the lead agent shouted up the steps.

Grey set himself in a firing stance and lowered his right arm, but his hand immediately filled with blood pouring down his sleeve. He shook his hand trying to throw the blood off, then wiped his palm against his pants, but the bleeding just increased. And to make matters worse, the arm was stiffening.

"Dad, he's hurt!" Jaybee shouted, pointing at the blood seeping through the fabric of Grey's borrowed chef's jacket. John and many others also saw the spreading red stains and the blood now dripping in a steady flow from Grey's fingers.

Grey continued to stare the agents down, but as the seconds passed, he realized that outdrawing all six agents wasn't going to be possible. Probably not even one of them. Had there not been hundreds of people watching, and a cameraman recording every moment, he might have tried to talk his way out of the situation through some deceptive ploy, but under the circumstances, such a dishonorable tactic would have set too poor an example.

Grey glanced at the crowds in the town square, seeing much fear and anger. These are courageous people, he thought. People who have taken a stand for freedom in the past and paid a heavy price. I should never have gotten them involved.

When he saw Kris start to come up the steps, he shook his head, urging her not to interfere. Gott helped pull her aside, much to Grey's relief, but John Farmer also saw the brief exchange and noticed the look of resignation as Kris was drawn to the edge of the crowd.

"This is your last chance, Brown," the agent said, slowly drawing his sidearm. "Make it easy on yourself or we'll come get you."

"Then you'll have to take me, too," John said, quickly running up the steps to stand in the way. He glanced at Marsus, offering an unspoken apology. Marsus looked back at him with pride.

"Me, too," Walter Edelson said, jumping to John's side, quickly joined by Peter Edelson, Mrs. Higgins and a dozen others. In response, the remaining agents also drew their guns.

"That's enough," the lead agent said, holding his weapon high in the air. "We're not here to hurt anyone, but we will."

"Stand down, John. This isn't your fight," Grey whispered, finding it hard to breathe, let alone speak.

"You're wrong, Governor," John said, emphasizing the title so that everyone in the crowd would know the truth. "This is our town. Our country. This has always been our fight, and it's about time we stood up and said so."

"We're not going to put up with this," the agent said, taking a step forward with his gun pointed at John's chest.

"Maybe we won't either," Trammel Jones intervened.

The agents turned to see the big citrus grower had a twelve-gauge shotgun pointed right at them. Then another farmer produced a shotgun. And another. Gott stepped forward and drew his energy blaster, Kris quickly at his side. Within seconds there were forty weapons pointed at the six agents, who backed up into a rough circle.

"What the hell's going on here?" Sheriff Gasparian demanded, emerging through the crowd with four deputies in his wake. He motioned for Sergeant Prado to check out the town hall, then turned to Deputy O'Rourke.

"Julia, what's this all about?" Gasparian asked.

O'Rourke, now standing shoulder to shoulder with the townspeople, nodded at Grey, then at the agents.

"About half an hour ago, a group of terrorists took hostages in the town hall," she said. "This young fella here just freed them. Got shot up doing it, too. Now these knobs are claiming to be marshals and want to take him away. Threatened to take me down if I didn't back off."

"Is that a fact?" Gasparian said, wallowing up to the lead agent. "You got a problem in my county, boy?"

"No disrespect, Sheriff," the agent said, producing his identification. "This man is wanted for questioning by Homeland Security. I can assure you, your cooperation will be appreciated. Deeply appreciated."

Gasparian looked the agents over, turned to view the crowd, then looked up the steps to where John and his neighbors were standing.

"Everybody calm down," Gasparian said, walking halfway up the steps for a better view of the proceedings. Sergeant Prado soon emerged from the town hall.

"Bodies everywhere, Rance," Prado reported. "Least six, maybe more."

"McNair's men?" Gasparian asked.

"No, strangers. Never seen any of these stiffs before. All wearing the same type clothes, too. Not uniforms, you understand, just sort of the same. Same shoes as those fellas, come to think of it," Prado said, pointing at the feet of the government agents.

Needing no more, Jenny Oliver suddenly rushed forward, jumped up several steps, and dramatically waved a microphone in Gasparian's face.

"Is that true, Sheriff?" Oliver shouted. "Are these agents working with those terrorists? Isn't this just another blatant attempt by the government to assassinate the Governor of the Moon? What are you going to do about it?"

"Governor of what?" Gasparian said, looking in several directions before focusing on Grey. "Hey, Julia, isn't that the same kid who helped Old Sam Aslym?"

"Yeah, Rance, it sure is," O'Rourke confirmed.

"What about it, Sheriff?" Oliver demanded.

"Get that thing out of my face," Gasparian said, brushing the microphone aside and taking several steps back down toward the agents. "Look, Ferreria, or whatever your name is, seems to me I've got a patch of homicides to investigate. Magistrate will have to decide the custody issue."

"We don't have time for that," Agent Ferreria said. "Surrender this suspect now, or this whole valley will be under martial law by sundown."

Gasparian sucked a deep, belly shaking breath and looked at the hundreds of people assembled in the town square. Nervous shopkeepers, anxious farmers, worried spouses. Scared children. A vicious, bloodsucking reporter. He studied the young stranger at the top of the steps who looked more concerned about the townspeople than himself. Then he looked to his deputies, and O'Rourke, whose expression left no doubt how she felt. Finally, he put his hands on his hips, wished for a moment he had a cigarette, and turned to confront the government agents.

"Guess you boys are under arrest," Gasparian said, drawing his gun.

The deputies immediately drew their weapons and moved in to disarm the agents, patting them down before putting on the handcuffs. The crowd cheered.

Grey thought the entire incident fascinating, though well beyond his ability to understand. He had been worried when Farmer interfered, frightened when the Sheriff arrived, and annoyed when the reporter began throwing his name around. But after a while, it didn't matter. He was watching the events through a thickening haze, and he felt his legs growing tired. Grey tried to sit down, but fell instead, and the last thing he remembered was the cool marble steps against his cheek.

____________

"Doctor Rollins, he's waking up," someone said.

Grey opened his eyes, finding himself in a small room, possibly a first aid station. An elderly male doctor and middle-aged female nurse stood nearby watching vital signs on a portable medical scanner. His clothes were missing, as was his weapon, covered only by a brown blanket. His chest was securely wrapped in bandages and his right arm bound in a sling.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Rollins asked.

"I'm not sure. Where am I?" Grey wondered.

"You're in the fire station," Rollins replied.

Grey glanced over to see Deputy O'Rourke standing near the door, a shotgun cradled in her arms.

"Under arrest?" Grey asked.

"Don't know about that," Rollins said, looking into his eyes, checking the pulse, and probing the bandaging. "You're mighty lucky. The bullet passed through your arm, skidded along the rib cage, and exited below your shoulder blade. Nasty looking but it didn't penetrate the chest cavity."

"May I leave now?" Grey asked.

"The army may have something to say about that," Rollins answered, returning his attention to the medical scanner while the nurse tucked the blanket around him tighter.

A moment later, Kris ran into the room still wearing a blaster but now dressed in different clothes. She smiled to see his eyes open and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Shot but not killed, now that's what I call progress," Kris said, smiling as she brushed the hair back from his forehead.

Grey had a thousand questions for her, but no clue where to begin. The drugs holding back the pain weren't making it easier to organize his thoughts.

"No, you're not in custody, but there are problems," Kris said, having no trouble guessing what he wanted to know. "Sheriff detained those agents, who really are federal marshals by the way. Even let O'Rourke strip-search them."

"Did a thorough job of it, too," the big female deputy said with a nasty grin.

"Can't prove if they're tied to the Council, but that Jenny Oliver is stirring up a hornet's nest," Kris added.

"And the problem?" Grey wondered.

"The valley's up in arms," Kris revealed. "They say no one's taking you by force. Raised a militia, set up roadblocks, and told the army to back off. This whole region's ready to explode."

"Has there been any violence?" Grey asked, distressed by the news.

"No, not yet. Army hasn't pressed the issue, but plenty more troops are arriving every hour," Kris reported.

"How about the Ben Brown alias? Any chance we can claim this is all a case of mistaken identity?" Grey asked, looking briefly at O'Rourke. O'Rourke smiled as if she thought the suggestion funny.

"Sorry, Grey," Kris said. "Cover's blown. Everyone knows you crashed here after deflecting that asteroid. People say it's pretty ungrateful of the government to treat you like this after all the lives you saved."

"An uprising isn't in this community's best interest. Or ours," Grey said. "The conflict must be stopped."

"Don't know how," Kris responded. "If anyone's in charge, it's John, but even he doesn't have any special authority. This whole thing just has a life of its own."

"Then I must address the participants directly," Grey said, struggling to get out of bed.

"Whoa, you've got a cracked rib, severe bruising, and there's still a risk of internal bleeding," Dr. Rollins protested, pushing Grey back down. "You're not going anywhere until tomorrow at the earliest."

"He's right, Grey. Besides, people are spread all over. There's no way to talk to everybody at once," Kris explained.

"You can talk to that reporter," the nurse said. "Jenny Oliver's been camping on our doorstep all afternoon. Everybody's watching her for updates."

"That will be adequate," Grey agreed.

The nurse smiled, apparently anticipating a reward of some sort from Oliver's network, and quickly left the room.

"Sure you're up for this?" Kris asked. "You don't look so good, and anyone can see you're drugged."

"What if I wait a few hours and someone gets hurt?" Grey asked.

"Okay, so even fried you're hard to argue with," Kris realized. "Let me tell John what we're doing and have Marsus come fix you up."

"Find my com link and get me some privacy," Grey ordered, finding himself too tired to be polite.

"I've got your transmitter right here," Kris said, ignoring his bad temper.

Kris took the communicator out of her pocket and set it on the table, then waved for O'Rourke and the doctor to leave.

"You won't have to worry about privacy," Kris said. "Simon is downstairs guarding the door. People are so damn scared of him even Sheriff Gasparian hasn't come by to ask questions."

Kris stood up to go, then paused at his bedside.

"Grey, everybody's talking about how you took down those terrorists," she said, unable to hide the admiration she felt. "Oliver has pictures of you blowing the wall and going in, and she's got pictures of you standing up to those agents afterward. You're the hero of the hour. And not just here in Hope Valley. She's using our web to reach the whole country. Maybe even the whole world."

"This will make the Council reluctant to negotiate with us," Grey worried. "Perhaps there's a way to downplay the situation."

"I'm just saying, there's lots of men and women looking up to you right now. Me included. I know you have your own agenda, but don't turn your back on what's happening here. If the Council gets their mandate from the people, why can't you?"

Grey nodded but looked sleepy. Kris gave him a kiss on the forehead and went downstairs to make arrangements. Though groggy, Grey picked up the transmitter.

"Security," he summoned.

"Yes, Governor?" the Security Computer answered.

"Do we have a secure link?"

"Affirmative."

"That's good," Grey mumbled, laying back in the pillows. "What the hell's going on?"

"Once again you have foolishly risked your life for some vague principle," the Security Computer criticized. "If not for my superb training, you certainly would have been killed."

"Thanks for explaining the situation so clearly," Grey said. "Now what's all this about an uprising and the army?"

"General James Vandebrown has ordered the Homeland Guard to seal off Hope Valley with reserve forces holding in Oxnard and Ventura," Security said. "The units are under the command of General Wes Larson, a curious choice under the circumstances. Life Support believes the Council would like to avoid a confrontation, but the rebellion will not be tolerated if the unrest continues."

"Is Major Vandebrown available?" Grey asked.

"Standby," Security said.

"Hello? Grey?" Roger said, the visual mode coming into focus.

"Hello, Roger," Grey said, surprised to discover how reassuring the voice was. "Our operation has gained more publicity than intended."

"That's no understatement," Roger acknowledged. "Every net on the planet is monitoring developments. We've officially suspended contacts with the Council as a form of diplomatic protest, but we'll be back online with them by tomorrow."

"This complicates our position," Grey said. "I think..."

"Grey, before you say anything else, I want you to know that Tey is here," Roger announced, expanding the image to include both of them. "She's helped me through some of this and ..., well, to be honest, we've gotten very close, if you know what I mean."

"Roger, he doesn't know what you mean," Tey said. "Grey, don't worry. I will never, ever repeat anything I hear in confidence. You've got my solemn word on that. And I want you to know how proud everyone is."

"Thank you, Tey," Grey replied. "But you should know that I do understand what my uncle is saying. Far more than I would have a few weeks ago. You have my complete confidence."

Grey couldn't hear it, but he sensed a great deal of relief on the other end of the com line.

"We're reaching the end game," Grey continued. "Did you obtain the safe conduct?"

"Wasn't a problem. I spoke to Dad last night and he suggested I come down for consultations," Roger affirmed.

"We need to stop this uprising before it gets out of control," Grey warned. "I've agreed to an interview with Jenny Oliver."

"I'll pass the word we're trying to put the fire out," Roger said. "But you be careful with that reporter. She's a shark."

"Don't worry, I'll only tell her what I want her to know," Grey said confidently.

There was a knock on the door as Marsus poked her head in, a small leather bag in her hand. Grey quickly closed the com channel.

"Not interrupting, am I?" Marsus asked.

"Please enter," Grey said, struggling unsuccessfully to sit up.

"I brought make-up so you won't look so pale, and guess we can fluff up these pillows, too," Marsus said, sitting on the bed and opening the make-up kit. Having been made up once before to make a formal address, Grey was willing to endure the procedure.

"I'd say thank you for saving the children, but Kris warned me you'd bite my head off, so we'll skip that for now," Marsus confided, helping him sit up and building a pile of pillows behind him. "Wouldn't hurt to say we're glad you're all right, would it?"

"The danger was modest," Grey said.

"Can't say that's the way I heard it, but suit yourself," Marsus smiled, putting some color in his eyebrows and blush on his cheeks.

Noise from the outside announced more arrivals, Kris first, followed by Dr. Rollins, Deputy O'Rourke, John, and Peter Edelson. Grey felt the small room was getting much too crowded.

"Oliver is waiting downstairs, so excited she's likely to jump out of her panties," John said, pausing to look at Marsus and Peter before continuing. "Kris told us you want this thing stopped. We understand your concern, but this isn't just about you. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't come to Hope Valley, but it doesn't change the fact that the government sent agents here, took our families hostage, and would have murdered you if they could."

"If we let them get away with it, what law is there?" Peter asked. "What kind of future can we expect?"

"What future will you have if the army sends in armored vehicles?" Grey asked, surprised they held so little respect for the raw force at the government's disposal.

"What chance did our founding fathers have when the British occupied Boston?" Peter responded. "What chance did you have when the United Alliance attacked the moon?"

"We're not alone, either," John said. "The new web is sending our message to every nation in the alliance, and the Council can't stop it."

Grey studied the intent expressions, admiring their courage while abhorring their impracticality. For the first time in years, he wished he could ask the Life Support Computer for advice, knowing the system would say exactly what needed to be done regardless of the unpleasant consequences.

"No one resents tyranny more than I do," Grey said, his voice soft. "Will you give me a chance to resolve this conflict without violence?"

"What can you do?" Peter asked.

"I'll do what's necessary," Grey said, irritated by the question. "Haven't I earned your trust?"

"You have mine. And John's. And thousands of others," Marsus said, speaking on behalf of all.

"What do you need?" John asked.

"Hold your positions if you must, but don't call yourself a rebellion or allow others to preempt your cause," Grey advised. "Make no demands and don't fire on the military regardless of the provocation."

"Okay," John said. "Everyone's going to be watching your interview. We'll circulate around and let the folks know to sit tight."

John and Peter soon left, but the others remained. A moment later, Gott stuck his head through the door, then let Oliver in with her cameraman before returning to his post.

"Hello, Governor Waters," Oliver said, even more pert and bubbly than usual, wearing tight pants and a loose sweater. The cameraman quickly took up a position at the foot of the bed while Oliver sat in a chair to Grey's right. Oliver waved her hand and the camera zoomed in.

"Greetings to our Northern Alliance affiliates and viewers all over the world," Oliver introduced. "This is Jenny Oliver sitting with Grey Waters, the Governor of the Moon, who is recovering from wounds received in a desperate battle with seven heavily armed terrorists. Governor, would you like to say hello to our audience?"

"Not especially," Grey said. "I have allowed this interview to urge restraint. Through a misunderstanding, many citizens have armed themselves and the army has been put on alert. I request that all parties involved curtail your activities and open a dialog."

"Are you denying that the Congress-In-Council sent agents to Hope Valley for the express purpose of assassinating you?" Oliver asked in such a manner that a denial would have sounded hollow. Grey frowned, looked at Oliver, then back at the camera.

"I would like a representative of the army to come forward and negotiate a method of deescalating the situation," Grey said.

"What about the uprising?" Oliver persisted.

"There is no uprising," Grey responded just as quickly. "I believe there are times when fighting for a cause becomes necessary, but this region is yet to reach that juncture. It's possible the government may have erred. Perhaps some well-meaning individuals are overreacting. Rational discussion will resolve these difficulties. In the meantime, I request all parties to stand down."

Grey leaned back, growing weary and feeling his message had been delivered. Kris stepped forward to end the interview, seeing Grey's eyes were beginning to glaze over. Oliver hung on.

"Is it true the Council tried to kill you during the mining operation? Was Commander Sykes part of that conspiracy?" she asked.

"Insufficient evidence exists to suggest the detonation was anything other than an accident," Grey answered.

"Yet you saved thousands of lives by running down that stray, even though it caused your spaceship to crash," Oliver insisted.

"Packet was located nearest the situation. Any of the other commanders would have taken the same risk," Grey insisted.

"And what about the Bulldozer? Why haven't you answered questions about that?" Oliver demanded, putting a hand back to keep Kris off.

"There is nothing to say," Grey dismissed.

"Can you deny that it was you who destroyed TL-68?" Oliver persisted. "That if not for you, billions of people would have died in the collision?"

"Astronauts Dillon, Levinsky, and Carpentier are responsible for destroying TL-68. Any reports to the contrary are false," Grey protested, his heart beating faster as he grew angry.

"But how can that be, Governor?" Oliver said. "All of the astronauts were killed when NA Salvation crashed."

"They were not all killed!" Grey barked. "Colonel Dillon survived long enough to place most of the warheads. Only the last one needed to be--"

Grey's words froze in mid-sentence, his face turned red without help of make-up. His eyes squinted as he bitterly stared at the reporter.

"This interview is over," Grey said, struggling forward.

"You owe the people an explanation, Governor," Oliver said even as Kris pulled her back from the bed.

"Out. Get out," Grey said, fighting so hard against the restricting bandages that the audience could hear them stretching.

Dr. Rollins literally pounced on his patient to hold him down while Deputy O'Rourke turned the cameraman around and managed to push him through the door. Kris shoved Oliver out right behind him.

Grey fell back into the pillows, giving Dr. Rollins a chance to check the bandages for blood seepage. He found no damage, but the patient was so agitated the doctor was forced to give him a tranquilizer, then motion for everyone to leave as Grey fell asleep.

"Did you know about that? The Bulldozer?" Marsus asked Kris.

"No. Grey and I watched Oliver bring this up before, and he never said a thing. Not even a hint," Kris recalled, still finding it hard to grasp. "Guess I'll never know all the things he did before we met, but I sure wish I'd known about this one."

* * * * * *

Coming next, the final chapter of Tranquility Down followed by the epilogue