London Wild (52 page)

Charles continued to vilify those in his command, ‘
How is it we passed by these buildings and you didn’t detect a threat?’

‘I don’t know
, sir.’ Michael sounded as if he was feeling trapped. He sniffled, ‘The scanners reported people in those buildings, but not that many, no more than you’d expect to see in them. If anything, they showed fewer than you’d expect. There was nothing out of the ordinary.’

‘Could they have stealth suits?’ Gloria offered
, trying to support Michael. ‘It’s not like they’re a new innovation.’

Charles sighed angrily
. He wanted to shout Gloria down, but she could be right. In the past, cats had attacked targets primarily for weapons. Though stealth suits had been around for a long time, they only tended to be issued to Special Forces on special missions. Even the Elite didn’t tend to get to use them. Then again, there was always the black market.

With everything else that was happening,
Charles had almost forgotten something else important. He suddenly tapped his screen irritably. ‘What about this tank? Didn’t you spot that?’

‘It must’ve been powered down, and it is too old
of a model to have been recognized by our computers as a threat,’ Michael replied quickly. He sniffled a little more.

Charles spoke slowly as if talking to a child
as he said, ‘But I ordered a full check for explosives. Didn’t it show up then?’

‘No explosives present,’ Michael replied
, eager to clear himself. ‘It’s an antiquated tank. It hasn’t fired at all since it appeared on the street. The cats appear to be using it just to block the road. Even its lasers haven’t fired. It’s possible they’re too old to do so. I don’t think they have any ammunition on board for the scanners to detect.’

‘Damn it, Michael,’ Charles said,
turning his head away brusquely, ‘We should’ve been more careful. You should’ve been more observant.’

Michael shrugged
. He looked at Gloria and then back to the uplink scanner that was supplying them with images of the carnage. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.

They were moving as quickly as their wheels would carry them. Already they were halfway to an alternate archway, nearly knocking down someone’s home to get there. Once through the city streets
, though, they would have a myriad of the town’s roads to pass through. Michael would have to be on the ball then, as Gloria would be too busy concentrating on not hitting things at the speeds they were going to look for herself.

‘
This isn’t going to be good for him
,’ Charles thought to himself
. ‘What are the reporters going to think of this debacle?
’

He began to wonder about where the various broadcast units were. Seven of them had been on the tanks after they passed through the wall and
had probably still been with the tanks when they had shot off for an alternate way back to the battle. At the speeds the tanks were going and with some of the corners they were taking at these high speeds, he wouldn’t be surprised if some of them had fallen off their respective tanks. He hoped not; that could bring bad news too. Then he scanned the battle zone, trying to see if there were any bodies of pressmen in among the dead.

There were three broadcast units there
. Perhaps they had felt safer at the back. One of these units had been killed in the fighting; the photographer and reporter were sprawled next to each other amidst the civilian dead. The second group was walking about the field of dead as if it was nothing special. They were filming the cats and the bodies, and they were being ignored. It looked as if Gloria had been right about the cats’ attitude about pressmen. They did want this to be reported back in London.

Only the photographer of the third group still seemed to be alive
. He was standing in the middle of a circle of cats, apparently talking to one of them, probably the leader. The reporter’s handheld microphone was in the hands of this leader. The body of the reporter lay at the feet of both of them.

‘Michael,’ Charles said insistently, ‘can you pick up the feed
? I want to hear what they’re saying.’

‘I can do that,’ Michael replied quickly
; ‘what network are they from?’

‘Network
…’ Charles replied hastily, ‘I don’t know; can you see?’

‘I think it
’s Triple N again,’ Michael replied after a moment. He sniffled again. ‘I’m not totally sure, but that’s who I’d choose in their position, and I think the photographer looks familiar. I think he was on our tank earlier.’

‘Look,’ Charles insisted, ‘don’t talk about it; just tune my scanner into it. If it’s not the right one
, circle through them until we find the right one.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Michael replied.

‘Well,’ a voice began, coming from the small speaker beside Charles’ monitor, ‘we’ve just heard the sound of an explosion from somewhere behind. Although it’s not clear, I think part of the wall has been deliberately demolished. It could be…’

‘It’s not them,’ Charles said quickly
. ‘Try another.’

‘They’ll be finished by the time you find them,’ Gloria muttered to herself
, and then wished she hadn’t, as she needed all her concentration to take the next turning. They were very near the arch now.

‘It’s finished already,’ Charles replied to her
. ‘They’ve let the photographer go and are heading to the rear of the convoy.’

‘So there’s no point trying anymore?’ Michael said hopefully.

‘Keep looking,’ Charles said insistently, ‘while I teach you that nothing you ever see on the newspaper or on the holoviewa is ever live. There is always a delay of anything up to three minutes, especially in a situation like this. It allows them to edit things if necessary.’

‘Wish Colonel Davis
hadn’t given away any of our secrets too, right, sir?’ Michael commented with a grin in his voice. Then his voice became more morbid as he added, ‘Wish they had the same policy over filming the dead. Oh, here it is, one of the LNC units!’

‘No,’
said the reporter adamantly, ‘N-no, I will n-not inter-v-view you.’ The camera was fully on the figure the reporter was talking to. The figure looked human, with none of the stripes that were normally associated with his race. His teeth looked half developed, barely any different than those of a human; even for those with Elite training he would be difficult to detect that way. Only his eyes stood him out as a cat, and even they were pale by comparison to the others.

‘Holy shit,’ Michael suddenly blurted out, ‘it’s, it’s…’

‘The Lesser Patriarch,’ Charles finished for him, ‘the second most wanted cat in the country. It would take someone like him to arrange this sort of ambush. Let’s hear what’s happening.’

A few cats had gathered behind the leader
, who seemed to be waiting patiently.

‘I-I-I d-don’t care h-how….’ The reporter gulped loudly.

The Lesser Patriarch seemed to sigh; he turned his head to the cat immediately behind him to the left. Anything that was said was lost. As he turned, the faint stripes that the Patriarch did have seemed to become a little more prominent. They were a very slightly different color than the rest of his face, making them almost impossible to see for someone who didn’t know what to look for. Charles was a member of the Elite Guard, and even he, trained to be observant about such things, was having trouble making them out.

‘Oh
, okay.’ The Patriarch seemed disappointed, his voice barely audible to Charles or Michael in the tank, especially with the engines in high gear.

The cat to the left of him then raised a laser pistol,
and the camera flinched downwards as the photographer must’ve instinctively ducked. There was a flare of laser, and then the camera turned as the photographer must’ve looked around in time to see the reporter fall in a heap at his feet.

There was a quick glimpse of cats standing on the far side of body
, forming part of the circle that must now surround the photographer. One of these cats bent to pick up the microphone from the body and handed it to the Patriarch. The camera panned to watch the handover of the microphone, the picture getting a little shaky as the Patriarch came back into focus.

The
Patriarch almost sounded educated as he spoke into the microphone clearly enough for everyone to hear. ‘So, about that interview.’

‘S-sure,’ the photographer said eagerly. The
Patriarch had put the microphone so it would pick up the photographer’s words. ‘Anything you say.’

‘Good,’ said the
Patriarch, ‘good. Well, not so much an interview, more a monologue.’

The camera shook a little then
, indicating perhaps that the photographer was nodding his agreement.

At this point Charles half expected the network to cut it
. The reporter had died to stop this from going ahead; the least the network could do would be to stop it before the cats could spread their propaganda. Charles was of two minds, though. On the one hand, he wanted to hear what the cat had to say, but on the other he wanted the network to stop broadcasting before the population of London got whatever subversive message the Patriarch might be about to deliver.

‘I’d like to make you a very simple offer’
he began. ‘Right now thousands of my people are moving from Southend to London. Unlike your great hero Slim, they have no design to demolish the city. No, indeed, they will be after revenge for Southend, or Sou’nd, as you herd have taken to calling it. We will instead embark on a policy of slaughter. We know that many of you are already leaving the city in droves to get away from us. Scattering to the four corners of the country like the sheep you are! Do not allow yourselves to feel safe. If we don’t find enough victims in London to quench our thirst for revenge, then most likely we shall follow you wherever you go. If you destroy our city, then we will take yours. If you kill our people, we will slaughter yours. So what can you do to stop it? Slim Dorris is nothing more than a civilian. He has no more right than any one of you watching this to do what he is doing, to act as he is. Yet he puts all of you in danger for his own glory, for his own ego! The history books will record him as the perpetrator of all that befalls you. The rest of you will be but a footnote to his folly. There is no guarantee that he will even be able to complete the task he has set for himself, and even if he does, how many cats—’ he emphasized the word ‘cats,’ perhaps to show that he wasn’t scared of it—‘do you think will be left in Southend when he arrives? They’ve all left the town already. It’s empty and deserted, and they’re all marching with blood in their eyes to the city of London, all looking for revenge.’

‘The cats got through the roadblocks?’ Charles commented angrily
. ‘Trust Colonel Davis not to give us any warning.’

‘It’s possible that the Patriarch is lying,’ Gloria responded.

The Patriarch paused for a moment and looked towards the wall. The photographer couldn’t help but turn to see what he was looking at. Soldiers had reached the rubble-strewn archway. They were pinned down as the cats turned all their firepower against them. The soldiers were obviously much better trained than the civilians, and they also wore body armor capable of absorbing fire from most of the weapons the cats had. Nevertheless, there was only one place through which they could attack, and that was the remains of the arch, around the first civilian transport and over the rubble. Many of the soldiers were choosing to dig in instead and fight from what little cover they could find there, as the defensive fire from the cats was getting quite murderous.

The Patriarch then turned back to the photographer. He didn’t seem at all disturbed at the proximity of the soldiers; neither, for that matter, did any of the cats standing behind him.

‘So what am I suggesting?’ he continued. ‘If Slim Dorris will turn the remains of his strike force back towards London, then we are willing to forget this ever happened. The convoy will be allowed to return without harassment, and my people will return to their homes in Southend, leaving London alone…’

‘He’s scared,’ Michael commented
. ‘He doesn’t show it in his expression, but he recognizes that we are a threat.’

‘Shut up,’ Charles replied, ‘I’m trying to listen.
’

The tanks were into the streets of Benfleet now and charging through as fast as they could take the corners on those too
-narrow roads. They really weren’t all that far from the battle now, but what they were watching had taken place at least three minutes ago and had been over for nearly that.

There was a very sudden and very loud bang. It was deafening even where the convoy was. It could probably have been heard as far afield a
s London, and in Sou’nd, the very ground seemed to shake with it.

Charles quickly looked at the others to see if any of them had a suggestion for what might have caused the bang. It sounded as if it came from the battle
zone; it faded away quickly and there was no repeat of it. Charles was worried that the cats might have used some sort of secret weapon. ‘Michael, check the uplink and find out what that was!’

On the monitor the
Patriarch’s monologue went on. ‘However, should Slim Dorris actually pass the border of Southend, then the gloves will be off and everyone my people see will be fair game. Up until now we have killed for food and only for food. If Slim will turn back, I won’t promise an end to the killing, but it will continue as it always has. We will take only those we need to survive. Otherwise it will be all-out war between our people. Some might say it’s a war we can’t win. Well, we shall see. Call him off and I will call off my people.’