The Janus Syndrome | Page 5

in my hands.
"Aren't you going to kiss me good-bye, wounded heroine and all?" Kerry said.
I looked up at her and grinned. "Next you'll be fussing with your hair and clothes every time you get into a scrape."
"My hair's unmussable," she said.
"Okay, so I can't ruffle it."
Under the light, the bomb turned from gray to blue-green; activated.
"Ah, you're no fun, and I hate you for it."
I dropped the bomb into my pocket and kissed her. We were good friends; we hadn't really had time to get together much -- her manor was Planet Earth, mine was anywhere Area Fourteen wanted to send me.
But I loved her all the same; she was my kind of Beautiful People.
We broke, and she winked, put the Bullet between her teeth, bit, swallowed, and waited for a moment.
Then, with a loud popping sound, she was gone. Air plucked at my clothes.
I looked up, for the moon; I couldn't see it for the buildings. Area Fourteen was a hundred twenty degrees ahead of it, at the forward Trojan point, screened from detection.
A kind of home for me.
I stood up, took the bomb out of my pocket, kneaded it a little more, and walked to the door; I hadn't been shot at out here, and I probably wouldn't be. They hadn't put much power into this hit, and they'd blown it.
I pushed the doors open warily, slipping inside and taking cover behind a pillar, watching. No one looked in my direction; the civilians had run for safety and the cops were too busy trying to flush the sniper; they were making a mess of the desks and walls.
I looked for the two dead Enemy; no sign. I hadn't expected to see any trace of them. The Enemy made a point of picking up their own garbage. We hadn't laid hands on a single Enemy casualty so far, and the same applied to us where the Enemy was concerned.
I wished that somebody would see fit to haul a living, breathing Kevven Tomari out of the firing line right now. But Area Fourteen wouldn't do that. I had a job to finish, and I was supposed to take care of myself.
The red beam from the sniper's weapon snapped through the air, took a cop in the chest, transfixed him, vanished, and let him fall, smoldering.
I broke cover, zig-zagged to more cover closer to the sniper, got down, and pulled out the Bullet I'd taken from Kerry's jacket, putting it between my teeth.
I charted my course carefully -- this was going to be the shortest path of all, and the most dangerous. I could easily get caught in a crossfire and cut to pieces.
I hefted the bomb, considered trying a throw from here, but I probably wouldn't be able to make it. I hadn't a clue about throwing anything, never mind a bomb that wasn't quite round.
I shook off nerves and broke.
My feet cracked hard on the floor, running with balance putting me ahead.
There was a shout from my right, a cop spotting me, and most of the firing ceased.
I slammed the bomb against my empty hand, sparking it into timing to detonation. Eight seconds.
Brought it back as I thudded ziz-zag at the ticket desks, wove away to avoid being targeted.
Hurled it with five feet to go; it didn't matter if it didn't land on his nose, the bang would get him anyway.
Twisted and dropped flat, biting the Bullet and swallowing, curling up in case I'd mistimed.
There was a pain in my side; I'd hit the desks while dropping, hadn't noticed it.
And then -- St. Louis Greyhound Bus Terminal vanished from around me.
I was flattened out on the receiving deck of Area Fourteen, four hundred thousand plus kilometers out in space.
I rolled over and stood up, grinning at the curious faces, alien and human, that looked down on me from various catwalks over and under my position.
And heard Area Fourteen say, "When you have seen to your shoddy state, Kevven, report for debriefing in room eleven."
I pulled a sour face.
I was home again.

2. BASE BRIEF
The figures on the screen were doing a frenzied dance, scuttling this way, that way, all ways together, bluecoats and civilians -- And Kevven Tomari.
There was no explosion, and the police caught the sniper as he emerged from cover.
Area Fourteen's voice said, "That is the way it should have been handled.
There was no need to cause an explosion, with the destruction you should have known would follow."
I sighed. "You're a damned, tin-plated, transistorized, two-star general. I didn't have much time to think. I used the nearest means to hand, and it went boom, and that's that."
"Mademoiselle Fossen was in possession of a needlegun, which you could have used."
"Oh sure, sir. Except the cops would have started popping 'em at me as well.
And there's your rules --"
"Mademoiselle Fossen