Land Management

"Ultranationalists, or something like that I guess. That's what we're dealing with from what you described," Clyde interrupted. "We're used to those kinds of things but this well armed out here, that's a bit new."

"They're getting resupplied somehow, and we're thinking it's the Canadian government, despite the blockade, but that's only what some of my people have figured out." Pushing his glasses up his nose, Father Kevin continued, "They're against federation, and they're unwilling to, I guess, cooperate with us for lack of a better term, because we made it clear we're for it. Federation that is. Of course, we would prefer if they saw things like we do– embracing the inevitable, but you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make them drink."

"I'm sure the tithing aspect wouldn't be too bad either," Wexler said. He took a long drag on his vaporizer, and blew out a cloud off to the side.

"Please don't do that in here," Kevin cut in, but Wexler already had the tip of the vape in his mouth, which had a pale green glow as he took another pull.

Wexler exhaled again off to the side. "I am really sorry." The light from the window cast through the smoke giving the illusions of solid columns of gold, green, and red light in the afternoon sun.

"We're pretty familiar with this kind of group, like I said," Clyde interjected to cut the tension between Kevin and Wexler. "This one specifically, we got word that about a week ago they managed to raid the last, well, one of you, Ken, and we had to send him out to the MerCorp hospital. We managed to hit one, but another headed somewhere into the bush, around here," Clyde held out a no-name Android tablet and pinched in on Google Maps, showing me the area I had already been.

"Seventeen here actually saw the whole thing, but didn't get close enough to get a high def picture of the gunner– just a mask, red hair, decent gilly suit. The mercs on the job found the quad a few klicks up battery pulled of course, but no sign of 'em."

Kevin looked to Clyde, "Of course. We got the report. He was re-assigned to exchange duties with immigration. Not everyone's cut out for the bureau, I suppose."

Wexler nodded.

"We can upload the maps, and get him started after a full charge. We can send him and one of the dogs out with him in the morning. I think one of our bureau crates has a few power cells to charge as well, which should be enough to keep him going for a few weeks."

Wexler and Clyde looked over at me. "He's only got those attachments, right?"

"Yeah, and a bag of engineering parts that we used in the transmitter hookup. Maybe a few construction tools, like a driver and I think a tank of oxy for a cutter."

Wexler pulled his phone out of his pocket, extended the satellite antenna and tapped it twelve times, before stroking it vertically six times.

"Back order, of course. Looks like most of these guys are out west giving support..." Wexler paused, "and a few are shipping north to start drilling."

"Forest fires don't melt these things?" Clyde cocked his head at me when he said this.

"Not in any way that matters, really just the skin burns off, but the frame still works. We're also stamping so many of these now they are more or less disposable," Wexler paused, "Well, not this one, I guess, because this is the one we have here now."

Wexler sucked his teeth, and continued, "Kevin, we accept this as part of our agreement to power Borden. Our engineers have the bypass lines ready to go. We understand that the current security issues you face are in alignment with ours, and as part of your federation agreement, we agree to provide protection, as outlined, by either direct United States federal resources, or subcontractors thereof."

He continued, "In accordance with §3.4(b) of your federation agreement, Affordances for Common Interest, you can deploy this unit for recognizance only. Once the targets are identified, we'll hit the area with," Wexler looked down at his phone, "Looks like your coverage level is enough for three drone strikes with standard ordinance."

"That's something at least," Kevin muttered, "Dogs too?"

"No, those are my dogs. My department gives us two. That reminds me, Seventeen, go ahead and disconnect from my dogs and forget their device IDs."

I comply and was no longer able to see from the dogs' perspective. A second later the connection closes and I remove their records from my system.

"We'll get him kitted up and send him out overnight," Clyde said, but Kevin objected.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get this taken care of right away and get him.. her... whatever, get him out of here. The, uh, rubes, are really into the whole mechanical Christ idea, and since this guy showed up people are talking, and the last thing I need is for them to start following this guy around like a messiah. That role is filled already by yours truly."

"Understood. We have that kind of thing down south all over. I'm glad you're at least honest with us and not trying the whole act here."

Kevin's voice shifted in tone, "Who says that I am not, my brother in Christ?" Back in his original voice, he continued "If you'll excuse me, I'll head back to my rectory to finish another exhaltation of the hydrogen atom, and how we provide like the lord or something. I still haven't finished it yet."

"I'm sure it will be... compelling?" Clyde said.

Young and Chung were standing by the armory rack at the fear end of the quonset huts set up for mercenary and federated troop support. I could see the contractors from Land Management opening their equipment boxes and beginning to deploy equipment that was now functional because of the federated connection. After Chung opened the locker for me, I opted for the HK416Y for optimal compatibility with my targeting system, and a vault system that had a direct mount point into my wrist expansion port, powerchaining it through myself. Pointing it up in the air, the hydraulics engaged the 12 foot telescopic ramrod out, and back in, collapsing back into itself to make sure it worked.

"God damn, that's scary," Young said, handing over a pair of power cells. He was holding his rifle upright, and resting the forestock on his helmet. Chung on the other hand stood agog, watching me test the equipment I'd selected, and took a moment to react when I asked him for extra NATO magazines.

I checked out with Clyde, who gave me a lift back up to the checkpoint, which we arrived at right around sunset.

"Hank, Chris, good to see you guys again. Feds are here, they brought some snacks." Clyde threw the guards each a yellow candy bar. "

Jenkins took a look at his and said "Ah, man, I can't eat this... peanuts." He handed ito over to Peterson who was already eating his. "I can't think of the last time I even saw a Mr. Goodbar."

"Eh, to me it just tastes like trash. You guys are probably too young to remmember the real stuff. Anyway. Seventeen here is gonna head into the bush for a few days. Leave a note for the night guys so he doesn't have any trouble getting back in."

Headlights suddenly flashed along the road ahead as a GMC Denali pulled up to the checkpoint from the roads with tinted windows with Bureau of Land Management markings. Before Jenkins could say a word– Peterson still had his mouth full– the driver's side window lowered. From the angle I was at, I could see the ID:

KENDALL, R
ID #4288-6511-2546

Jenkins waved them through, and as they were out of sight, he extended his middle finger. "Why is it that we have to have full markings and they get off with fake names and ID numbers?"

"Different rules, I guess," Peterson had finished unsticking his mouth. "We need to be accountable."

"All right, Seventeen," Clyde said, changing the subject, "You're kind of on your own from here. Good hunting, and let us know what you find."

"Acknowledged."

At full power, I left the gate and the mercenaries, heading southwest across the overgrown farmer's fields run foul and wreckage of abandoned subdivisions destroyed by conquest, into the woods, seeking my prey.