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from cover and was thus forced to counterattack. Part of the computer's job is
to monitor the weapon systems, so it knew the fingertip lasers were all it had
left. So it used them."
A deathly silence filled the room. "Let me get this straight," Stillman said
at last. "The Army made
Jonny Moreau into an automated fighting machine who will react lethally to
anything that even looks
like an attack? And then let him come back to us without making any attempt to
change that?"
"The system was designed to defend a soldier in enemy territory," D'arl said.
"It's not nearly as hair-
trigger as you seem to imagine. And as for 'letting' him come back like that,
there was no other choice. The computer cannot be reprogrammed or removed
without risking brain damage."
"What the hell!
" Fraser had apparently forgotten he was supposed to be courteous to Dominion
representatives. "What damn idiot came up with that idea?"
D'arl turned to face the councilor. "The Central Committee is tolerant of
criticism, Mr. Fraser." His voice was even, but had an edge to it. "But your
tone is unacceptable."
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Fraser refused to shrivel. "Never mind that. How did you expect us to cope
with him when he reacts to attacks like that?" He snorted. "
Attacks.
Two kids playing a game!"
"Use your head," D'arl snapped. "We couldn't risk having a Cobra captured by
the Trofts and sent back to us with his computer reprogrammed. The Cobras were
soldiers, first and foremost, and every tool and weapon they had made perfect
sense from a military standpoint."
"Didn't it occur to anyone that the war would be over someday? And that the
Cobras would be going home to civilian life?"
D'arl's lip might have twitched, but his voice was firm enough. "Less powerful
equipment might well have cost the Dominion the war, and would certainly have
cost many more Cobras their lives. At any rate, it's done now, and you'll just
have to learn to live with it like everyone else."
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Stillman frowned. " 'Everyone else'? How widespread is this problem?"
D'arl turned back to face the mayor, looking annoyed that he'd let that hint
slip out. "It's not good,"
he admitted at last. "We hoped to keep as many Cobras as possible in the
service after the war, but all were legally free to leave and over two hundred
did so. Many of those are having trouble of one kind or another. We're trying
to help them, but it's difficult to do. People are afraid of them, and that
hampers our efforts."
"Can you do anything to help Jonny?"
D'arl shrugged slightly. "I don't know. He's an unusual case, in that he came
back to a small home town where everyone knew what he was. I suppose it might
help to move him to another planet, maybe give him a new name. But people
would eventually find out. Cobra strength is hard to hide for long."
"So are Cobra reflexes," Stillman nodded grimly. "Besides, Jonny's family is
here. I don't think he'd like leaving them."
"That's why I'm not recommending his relocation, though that's the usual
procedure in cases like this," D'arl said. "Most Cobras don't have the kind of
close family support he does. It's a strong point in his favor." He stood up.
"I'll be leaving Horizon tomorrow morning, but I'll be within a few days'
flight of here for the next month. If anything happens, I can be reached
through the Dominion governor-general's office in Horizon City."
Stillman rose from his chair. "I trust the Central Committee will be trying to
come up with some kind of solution to this problem."
D'arl met his gaze evenly. "Mr. Stillman, the Committee is far more concerned
about this situation than even you are. You see one minor frontier town; we
see seventy worlds. If an answer exists, we'll find it."
"And what do we do in the meantime?" Fraser asked heavily.
"Your best, of course. Good day to you."
Jame paused outside the door, took a single deep breath, and knocked lightly.
There was no answer.
He raised his hand to knock again, then thought better of it. After all, it
was his bedroom, too.
Opening the door, he went in.
Seated at Jame's writing desk, hands curled into fists in front of him, Jonny
was staring out the window. Jame cleared his throat.
"Hello, Jame," Jonny said, without turning.
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"Hi." The desk, Jame saw, was covered with official-looking magforms. "I just
dropped by to tell you that dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes." He
nodded at the desk. "What're you up to?"
"Filling out some college applications."
"Oh. Decided to go back to school?"
Jonny shrugged. "I might as well."
Stepping to his brother's side, Jame scanned the magforms. University of
Rajput, Bomu Technical
Institute on Zimbwe, University of Aerie. All off-planet. "You're going to
have a long way to travel when you come home for Christmas," he commented.
Another fact caught his eye: all three applications were filled out only up to
the space marked
Military Service.
"I don't expect to come home very often," Jonny said quietly.
"You're just going to give up, huh?" Jame put as much scorn into the words as
he could.
It had no effect. "I'm retreating from enemy territory," Jonny corrected
mildly.
"The kids are dead, Jonny. There's nothing in the universe you can do about
it. Look, the town doesn't blame you no charges were brought, remember? So
quit blaming yourself. Accept the fact of what happened and let go of it."
"You're confusing legal and moral guilt. Legally, I'm clear. Morally? No. And
the town's not going to let me forget it. I can see the disgust and fear in
people's eyes. They're even afraid to be sarcastic to me any more."
"Well... it's better than not getting any respect at all."
Jonny snorted. "Thanks a lot," he said wryly. "I'd rather be picked on."
A sign of life at last. Jame pressed ahead, afraid of losing the spark. "You
know, Dader and I have been talking about the shop. You remember that we
didn't have enough equipment for three workers?"
"Yes and you still don't."
"Right. But what stops us from having you and Dader run the place while go
out and work
I
somewhere else for a few months?"
Jonny was silent for a moment, but then shook his head. "Thanks, but no. It
wouldn't be fair."
"Why not? That job used to be yours. It's not like you were butting in.
Actually, I'd kind of like to try something else for a while."
"I'd probably drive away all the customers if I was there."
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Jame's lip twisted. "That won't fly, and you know it. Dader's customers are
there because they like him and his work. They don't give two hoots who
handles the actual repairs as long as Dader supervises everything. You're just
making excuses."
Jonny closed his eyes briefly. "And what if I am?"
"I suppose it doesn't matter to you right now whether or not you let your life
go down the drain,"
Jame gritted. "But you might take a moment to consider what you're doing to
Gwen."
"Yeah. The other kids are pretty hard on her, aren't they?"
"I'm not referring to them. Sure, she's lost most of her friends, but there
are a couple who're sticking by her. What's killing her is having to watch her
big brother tearing himself to shreds."
Jonny looked up for the first time. "What do you mean?"
"Just want I said. She's been putting up a good front for your sake, but the
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rest of us know how much it hurts her to see the brother she adores sitting in
his room and " He groped for the right words.
"Wallowing in self-pity?"
"Yeah. You owe her better than that, Jonny. She's already lost most of her
friends; she deserves to keep her brother."
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