Vickers (Corp.s.e.)

Her breath came in a final shout, her back arched in a prolonged, teeth-clenching spasm. By then even Vickers had forgotten about the people all around them.

A little later she was kissing his shoulder. "You're a terrible pervert, Mort Vickers. You know that?"

"People have told me."

"Will you take these things off me now?"

"Why don't we wait a little bit."

He had to admit, she really did look magnificent. She formed her lips into a small pout.

"Please, if we do it again, I'd rather do it the usual way."

Vickers smiled. "Whatever you say."

As he fumbled with the fastening, she lay back with her eyes closed.

"Will you come and see me again, Mort Vickers?"

"Sure will."

He meant every word of it. Her eyes opened.

"You're a damned liar."

"Why do you say that?"

"You're too slick to be anything but a damned liar."

The single bunk was too narrow to allow them to lie comfortably side by side. Vickers swung his feet to the floor.

"You're wrong you know. I like you. I'll come and see you again. That's what you really want to know, isn't it? Whether I like you or not?"

Joha

Vickers reached around for the wine.

"As a matter of fact, this is the first time I've got myself laid since I got here."

Joha

"I don't believe you."

"It's true, I swear."

"Then you're weirder than I thought you were."

Vickers leaned back against her body. There was something comforting in the feel of someone else's warmth. If the bunk had been a little wider he would have lain down and gone to sleep. He drank some more wine and let himself drift. He must have actually been slipping away. Joha

"You'd better think about going."

Vickers sat up. "Oh yeah?"

"They turn a blind eye to these visits as long as the visitors don't stay all night."

"Maybe next time you should come down to my quarters."

"That's not allowed. If anyone in a blue or brown uniform is caught below the second level without legitimate authority, they're arrested. You can be thrown out of the bunker or worse."

"Worse?"

"Worse is only implied. I've never really wanted to know the details."

Vickers wasn't quite convinced.

"There must be a way to swing it." Joha

"It all sounds a bit un-American."

Joha

"I don't know about all this."

"I do. It's got to be worth it in the long run."

Vickers wondered what kind of persuasion was being used on them up here in the peon levels.

"I sure hope so. What the fuck is that?"

The overhead lights had come on at the far end of the living area. Row after row of the flourescent panels came to life, a regular measured progress across the ceiling. Vickers grabbed for his shirt.

"Maybe I had better get out of here."

"I don't think all this is on your account."

Speakers crackled in confirmation.

"Now hear this! Now hear this! This is a yellow alert. All perso

The speakers repeated the message over again. Vickers was struggling into his pants.

"I don't think they're messing around."

All over the area women, and a small smattering of visiting men, were hastily pulling on their clothes. Some were already ru

"This is a not a drill. This is a yellow alert. Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!"

The hectoring speakers refused to let up. Vickers slipped into his jacket. Joha

"I'll see you again?"

"Sure."

"Kiss me."

They kissed briefly and then went their separate ways. Vickers jogged to the nearest elevator. In the event of a yellow alert, the security teams were supposed to assemble at a central point on the fourth level. There was a small crowd clustered around the elevators. Vickers saw the huge form of Yabu, head and shoulders above the handlers. While Vickers was still a dozen yards from the elevator bank a red light flashed and the doors opened on a down elevator. Yabu and a number of handlers stepped inside. Vickers called out.

"Hey Yabu, hold the lift!"

Yabu grabbed the closing door and pushed it back. Vickers slipped inside.

"It seems like some kind of shit is hitting the fan."

Yabu was impassive. "Maybe we'll see some action."

Vickers had absolutely no relationship with the giant Oriental. On a couple of occasions he had tried and failed to strike a conversation with him. After that he'd given up trying. It was thus that Vickers was more than a little surprised when he looked directly at him and smiled a Zen smile.

"You visit with the handler women?"

Vickers nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

Yabu looked approving. "A man needs to get fucked now and again if he is to stay sane and healthy. I do the same myself."

He looked away; the conversation seemed to have been abruptly terminated. The handlers around them were having trouble stifling fits of giggles. Vickers shrugged. He was a little relieved when the doors slid open and he and Yabu were able to make their exit onto the fourth level.

The majority of four security groups were already assembled. The only one of his group who had yet to arrive was Eggy. As he joined the other three, they glanced at him briefly. Parkwood treated him to the slightest of conspiratorial smiles. Presumably it was supposed to indicate that he had had an entertaining time with Yvo

"… an exchange of tactical nuclear weapons is now being reported from the area to the west of Poznan where the forces of Greater Germany and West Poland have been engaged with a large splinter group of the Red Army. As of yet, there are no details of the exact circumstances or who fired first but a number of corporation satellites are relaying accounts of up to four detonations of a size consistent with atomic shells or neutron minisiles. Unconfirmed accounts from Berlin indicate, however, that the German and Polish front lines are being overrun by near-suicidal Russian attacks."

The elevator doors opened again and another anxious crowd rushed out. Eggy was among them. He hurried up to the rest of the group looking like he hadn't slept.

"Sounds like the ice has started to crack."

"That's one way of looking at it."

"Has anyone told us what we're supposed to be doing?"

"Not yet."

Mobs of people streamed past, all apparently possessed of both a purpose and a sense of urgency, while the security groups stood around feeling a little like forgotten spare pans as the speakers repeated the same bulletin over and over. Finally there was a news report. It did nothing to raise anyone's spirits.