I squeezed the last drop from the Beaujolais bottle and watched the
girl whose name was Renada, hold a light for the cigar Mallon had taken
from a silver box. My blue mess jacket and holster hung over the back
of the chair. Everything was cosy now.
"Time for business, Jackson," Mallon said. He blew out smoke and looked
at me through it. "How did things look--inside."
"Dusty. But intact, below ground level. Upstairs, there's blast damage
and weathering. I don't suppose it's changed much since you came out
twenty years ago. As far as I could tell, the Primary Site is okay."
Mallon leaned forward. "Now, you made it out past the Bolo. How did it
handle itself? Still fully functional?"
I sipped my wine, thinking over my answer, remembering the Bolo's empty
guns....
"It damn near gunned me down. It's getting a little old and it can't
see as well as it used to, but it's still a tough baby."
Mallon swore suddenly. "It was Mackenzie's idea. A last-minute move
when the tech crews had to evacuate. It was a dusting job, you know."
"I hadn't heard. How did you find out all this?"
Mallon shot me a sharp look. "There were still a few people around
who'd been in it. But never mind that. What about the Supply Site?
That's what we're interested in. Fuel, guns, even some nuclear
stuff. Heavy equipment; there's a couple more Bolos, moth-balled, I
understand. Maybe we'll even find one or two of the Colossus missiles
still in their silos. I made an air recon a few years back before my
chopper broke down--"
"I think two silo doors are still in place. But why the interest in
armament?"
Mallon snorted. "You've got a few things to learn about the setup,
Jackson. I need that stuff. If I hadn't lucked into a stock of weapons
and ammo in the armory cellar, Jersey would be wearing the spurs in my
palace right now!"