The ubiquitous floodlights shifted direction.
Lila dashed from her spot and climbed over the wall.
As she scrambled to gain purchase, her boot caught the edge of one of the signs that ringed the exterior of the compound, glorifying the Randolph family’s coat of arms and the accompanying motto, Mutual Benefit. The words were far older than the city of New Bristol, even older than America itself. The motto had been brought over from the old countries, long before the Allied Lands formally recognized America as a sovereign territory of the commonwealth. Indeed, the first prime minister had even appropriated it as one of the defining values in society, business, and government.
Unity, above all else, had been declared the first.
Lila landed safely on the other side of the wall and thanked her luck that the sign had been bolted on securely. Dewy grass immediately latched on to her boots as though ratcheted on by static.
“Stop. Who goes there?” called out a woman in a sentry uniform—black with crimson piping—and a long leather blackcoat to match. She pulled on the lead of her German shepherd. The dog barked in excited aggression as both sprinted across the grounds to intercept.
Lila pulled up her thermal hood briefly as the pair reached her.
“Chief Randolph.” The woman bowed, wearing her sentry cap and blackcoat with the same grace as an evening gown. As she straightened, her face broke into a wrinkled grin.
The beast next to her breathed out in moist white bursts. It strained on its lead, confused when it couldn’t scent Lila through the gasoline and smoke, too surprised by it to keep barking.
Lila wished she could say the same about the dog. The odor of wet mutt filled her nose, and she stepped back from its tinkling chain. “Commander Sutton,” she returned with a stiff nod, wondering if the woman would question the state of her clothes or their smell.
Sutton said nothing. Perhaps she didn’t notice. Everything smelled of smoke on the estate, for the direction of the wind had changed half an hour before.
The commander turned away and murmured a few words into the radio affixed to her collar, then keyed in a code for the security office on her palm computer. A search light that had been on a path to inspect them swung back around into place, and the commander slipped the palm computer back into her pocket.
“How’d you know it was me, chief?” Commander Sutton asked, her mouth twitching at the corners.
“Patience. It didn’t take long for me to recognize your walk among the others.”
“I have a walk?”
“You drag your left leg slightly. You’re also the only blackcoat on patrol who kept looking out for my arrival. I doubt anyone else noticed your interest.”
“You did.” The woman rubbed at her thigh, scanning the rooftops. “I suppose it’s too chilly for me to ignore the stiffness this morning, or perhaps I’m getting so old I don’t even notice it anymore. I suppose you heard the blast earlier?”
“Heard it? You can see the smoke from here. What was it?”
“The news called it a gas explosion, but I’m not buying it. Didn’t have the right feel to it. Can you imagine a gas explosion less than a hundred meters from High House and Falcon Home? What if the prime minister had been in residence?”
“He wasn’t. Besides, accidents can happen anywhere.” Lila stuffed her fists into her coat pockets. “Time never passes for an old soldier, does it?”
“I suppose you’re right.” The commander motioned for Lila to fall into step beside her. The dog trotted after them obediently. “My head’s too full of the past tonight.”
“You’re not the only one.” Lila thought back again to the explosion five years before. She had been a lieutenant directly under Sutton’s command back then. When the explosion shook New Bristol, both women had jumped into a militia truck and sped to the scene, witnessing the fear spread after the Almstakers claimed responsibility through a hastily posted video online. The video hadn’t held up to the evidence, though. Bullstow ignored the Almstakers’ claims in the official report and blamed Bryan Rail. They claimed that a commercial train from the company had jumped the tracks, an accident later attributed to its poor safety record. It wouldn’t have been so devastating if one of the cars hadn’t been carrying a shipment of fertilizer.
With thirty-four people dead and scores injured, the outside shareholders sold their stakes of the lowborn business in a rage. Wolf Industries had swooped in and bought Bryan Rail at a steep discount.
That was the price of failure in New Bristol.
“The government militia is on the scene,” Commander Sutton said as they dodged a floodlight and sidled around the nearest building. “I suppose Bullstow wouldn’t lie.”
“I suppose they wouldn’t.”
“I sent a dozen blackcoats to assist, headed by Sergeant Tripp and Sergeant Nolan. Perhaps they’ll sniff out something useful for us while they’re there.” Sutton inclined her head. “You managed to take care of every camera along this path tonight. They’re not out. They’re just pointed a bit out of line. Thermal, too.”
Lila frowned, slightly annoyed that all it took to beat her own security was a thermal suit and a jammer. She knew it was better than that, though. She had taken to breaking into the estate every month or so, all to shore up the compound’s defenses and keep her militia on its toes. She did the same to
other Randolph properties whenever she visited.
At least Randolph engineers had been the ones to create the thermal suit and the jammer. Their energies had now turned to creating cameras to see through Lila’s toys. Chairwoman Randolph was unsure if the family would market either technology, though. Lila understood the chairwoman’s reasoning, for she enjoyed having toys the other families did not. Then again, the family would lose out on a great deal of potential revenue by keeping the technology to themselves. Lila could afford her own mansion if she sold either device on the black market, provided that the structure had not been built on Randolph property. Beatrice Randolph never sold any land she didn’t have to.