The pizza crusts were cold and half the soda was drunk. It was mid-afternoon, and the house was cooling down now that the air-conditioning had been on for a while. Huw sat in the front room, staring at the laptop screen. According to the geographical database, the ground underfoot was about as stable as it came. There were no nearby rivers, no obvious escarpments with debris to slide down and block the approaches. He closed his eyes, trying to visualize what the area around the house might look like in a land bare of human habitation. "You guys ready yet?" he called.
"Nearly there." There was a clicking, rattling noise from the kitchen. Elena was tweaking her vicious little toy again. ("You're exploring: your job is to take measurements, look around, avoid being seen, and come right back. But if the worst happens, you aren't going to let anyone stop you coming back. Or leave any witnesses.")
"Ready." Hulius came in the door, combat boots thudding.
Huw glanced up. In his field camouflage, body armor, and helmet Hulius loomed like a rich survivalist who'd been turned loose in an army surplus store, "where's your telemetry pack?"
"In the kitchen. Where's your medical kit?"
Huw gestured at the side of the room. "Back porch." He slid the laptop aside carefully and stood up. "How's your blood pressure?"
"No problems with it, I'm not dizzy or anything."
"Good. Okay, so let's go..."
Huw found Elena in the kitchen at the back of the rental house. She had her telemetry belt on, and the headset, and had rigged the P90 in a tactical sling across her chest. "Ready?" he asked.
"I can't wait!" She bounced excitedly on her toes.
"Let me check your equipment first." She surrendered with ill grace to Huw's examination. "Okay, I'm switching it on now." He poked at the ruggedized PDA, then waited until the screen showed an off-kilter view of the back of his head. "Good, camera's working." He turned to Hulius. Gruffly: "Your turn now."
"Sure, dude." Hulius stood patiently while Huw hung the telemetry pack off his belt, under the big fanny pack of ration packs, drink cans, and survival tools. Hulius's was heavier, and included a Toughbook PC and a shortwave radio-unlike Elena he might be sticking around for a while.
"Got signal."
"Cool. I'm ready whenever you are."
"Okay, I'll meet you out back."
Huw headed for the front room to collect the big aid kit and the artist's portfolio, his head spinning.
The back door, opening off the kitchen, stood open, let-; ting in a wave of humidity. Hulius and Elena stood in the overgrown yard, Elena facing Yul's back as he crouched down. "Ready?" called Huw.
"Yo!"
Huw placed the first aid kit carefully on the deck besidffl him, then unzipped the art portfolio. "Elena, you ready?"
"Whenever big boy here gets down on his knees."
"I didn't know you cared, babe-"
Huw stifled a tense grin. "You heard her. Piggyback up, I'm going to uncover in ten. Good luck, guys."
Hulius crouched down and Elena wrapped her arms around his chest from behind. He held his hands out and she carefully placed her feet in them. With a grunt of strain, he rose to his feet as Huw dropped the front cover of the folio, revealing the print within-carefully keeping it facing away from himself. "Go!"
He tripped the stopwatch, then put the folio down, closing it. Heart hammering, he watched the yard, stopwatch in hand. Five seconds. Elena would be down and looking around, a long, slow, scan, her headset capturing the view. Ten seconds. The weather station on her belt should be stabilizing, reading out the ambient temperature, pressure, and humidity. Fifteen seconds. Her first scan ought to be complete, and the smart radio scanner ought to be logging megabits of data per second, searching for signs of technology. If there were no immediate threats she should be taking stock of Yul, making sure his blood pressure was stable from the 'walk. Thirty seconds. Huw began to feel a chilly sweat in the small of his back. By now, Hulius should have planted a marker and be on his way to the nearest cover, or would be digging in to wait out the one-hour minimum period before he could return. He'd have a bad headache right now-if he used the one-hour waypoint he'd be in bed for twenty hour hours afterwards, if not puking his guts up. Otherwise he'd stay a while longer...
Fifty- five. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine. Sixty.
