Page 78 of Mongrels United
Nash had the gro-skin removed five days later, and was pronounced fully recovered four days after that, but it took three weeks to prepare for what Jackalyn Westcott called The Operation – with implied capital letters. Grady was in no hurry to push Nash back into the middle of the Bellish people, although she could sense an edge of frustration in Nash that grew with each delay in their preparations to search the forest.
“Once they learn that the two who attacked me are being held by the Civil Guard, they’ll dismantle everything and bury it so deep we’ll never find it,” Nash said, the one time Grady advised patience.
“I am not putting you out there in those trees without adequate preparation and support, no matter how much you pout,” Grady told him, her own rare temper sparkling. “We’ve got the two buried deep in the Guard quarters on the bridge, under false names that lead to dummy profiles. No one will learn they’re there. Trust me.”
“Systems can be hacked. People can be bought,” Nash grumbled.
“Not Jack’s people,” Grady said flatly.
While Jack and Grady made plans and discarded them, made more plans and discarded those, Jackalyn’s experts interviewed and interrogated the two attackers. They had names, which were known to Jack, but Jack and Grady referred to them as Bill and Bob, so not even those around the station got to hear their true names.
“They’re tough bastards,” Jack told Grady. “They’re not giving up a single word. Just demanding food and bio breaks, and that’s it.”
“Which we must give them,” Grady said firmly. “If we don’t abide by their Charter rights, we’re as bad as them.”
“There’s ignoring their rights, and there is, um, stretching them,” Jack said, then shook her head. “You don’t need the details. We’ll get it out of them, one way or another, but it could take some time.”
In the meantime, the tankball season finals began, and the flurry of interest in the Mongrels United exploded into a ship-wide obsession over their fate. Grady made herself stop work for a few hours to attend every game they were in, sat in the neutral territory in the middle of the tank, and chewed her fingers to the first knuckles with agonized suspense while each game lasted.
The Mongrels won two of their first three games and moved into the second round, which caused even more of a fuss on the ship. The Forum was choked with long and heavy discussions about the Mongrels and their chances. Just as many barely disguised arguments peppered the Forum pages, and some inflamed shouting matches that had to be extinguished by the Forum managers.
People who had never had an iota of interest in tankball began to watch the games. Arguments broke out on the train almost daily over who would win that night’s game. Spare tickets for games were sought after.
Among the elderlyEndurancecitizens, those who remembered a more glorious time for tankball came forward to talk about their history with the game. And now, people listened avidly to what they had to say.
Old games in the archives were dusted off and replayed. Now, if someone mentioned Quiver and Crave, people knew who they were referring to.
Grady began to see team colors being worn on shoulders and chests and armbands with team stripes popping up everywhere.
Mongrels fans disdained colors. They were distinguished only by the absence of team colors, especially at the games themselves. It was Siran Carpenter who pointed out to Grady that they were coalescing into a movement, anyway.
“They sit where you sit, Grady,” Siran said. “I watched from the box last night. The Mongrels fans all sit in what used to be neutral territory in the center of the tank. That’s Mongrels’ country, now.” And he grinned.
“You’re enjoying tankball far too much for a captain who thinks it’s a political bludgeon.”
“And where is my coffee?” Siran asked, his tone bland.
Grady rolled her eyes at him and went to get him a cup of coffee.
Gradually, the plan to infiltrate the forest and find the lab built up into a working operation. As the details filled out, the timing of it became an issue.
“We can’t just walk into the forest heavily armed,” Grady pointed out. “These people will be set up to deal with that and there are civilians moving around the Palatine at all hours of the day and night. We have to minimize the risk to them.”
“Allhours?” Jackalyn asked.
“All,” Grady said firmly. “The Tavern on the Meadow makes sure of that.”
“You would know, of course,” Jack said lightly. She tapped her chin, then sat up. “Oh, hell in a vacuum…I knowexactlywhen we do this. When the ship will be so focused upon one thing, we could set off a nuclear weapon in the Palatine and they wouldn’t notice.”
“When is…” Grady began and halted as the answer occurred to her. “The grand final.”
Jack nodded. “It’s perfect. If they’re not at the arena, they’ll be home with their feet up, watching a screen.”
Grady shook her head. “I have to be at that game, Jack.”
Jack rolled her eyes. “We’re talking about removing the last Bellish laboratory, Grady. Destroying a substance that willkillthis ship if we let it get out of hand. It’s nearly done that once already. You really think a game is more important than this?”
Grady returned Jack’s glare. “Let’s put aside the fact that my friend is the captain of the Mongrels and I owe it to be there for him. The Mongrels haven’t got into the grand final yet—”
