The Retro

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The mug shot showed a strong face, not handsome, not homely, clean and honest, but stubbornly, unapologetically, defiantly male. Pity. Sara punched up Central Dispatch and Lydia answered.

"Hi, Lydia, you're looking chipper this morning."

"Thanks. I just got back from two weeks in Cabo. You on call today?"

"Yeah. You got an update for me on this Terence Woods? How long has he been AWOL?"

"He missed roll call at five-thirty this morning, but they think he skipped out sometime around two. He had special permission to work late on the warden's car, but he hot-wired an old 4-wheeler and crashed the south fence."

"You said 'around two'. Didn't the alarm go off?"

"No. There was a unexplained power failure for five minutes at two o'clock, but it came back on by itself, so no one paid any attention. LocSat picked up his chip in Placer County, but he went off the scope about a quarter to seven. He made a ten-minute stop in Forest Run just off the interstate, so someone there might know something."

"Okay, thanks. Buzz me if you hear anything more."

"Sure thing. Take care."

Sara put on her field uniform, packed her gear and loaded it into the Solavette. She pulled up Forest Run on the SatAtlas and clicked on the autonav. The vehicle gently lifted and moved forward. She hadn't bothered packing a suitcase. It usually didn't take but a couple of hours to round up one of these retros. The implanted microchips made them easy to locate, and since they weren't really criminals, per se, they had little or no experience in evading law enforcement officers. Sometimes you'd get a violent one, but most were pretty docile once you caught up with them. The fact was, all any of them would have to do would be to submit to a simple laser procedure, and they could be walking around free men again. It was such a shame they were so stubborn.

The General Store at Forest Run was small and primitive, with an old-fashioned push-open door, and wheeled carts that you rolled through the aisles to choose your purchases from open stock shelves. Evidently there were still a few remote outposts on the planet where computerized inventories and automated selectors still hadn't reached. Sara showed the mug shot to the pleasant young man at the register.

"Sure, he was in here early this morning. Got me out of bed, in fact. I helped him load his order and he took off."

"His order?"

"That's right. Camping supplies and staple foods, enough to last six months at least. I had it all packed and ready for him."

"What do you mean, 'staple foods'?" Sara was puzzled by the unfamiliar term.

"You know, beans, rice, cornmeal, flour, stuff like that."

"To cook with?"

"Yes, to cook with."

"And he ordered all this stuff when?"

"Two weeks ago. Paid in advance with a credit card."

"May I see the order, please?"

"Sure thing." He found the sheet in the file drawer and handed it to her. She ran down the list. Sleeping bag, tarps, dishes, pots and pans, battery powered lanterns and a solar recharger. Even a laser blade. Everything a man would need for an extended stay in the wilderness. He must have been planing this for a long time.

"I'll need a copy of this order."

"There's a copier over there. Fifty cents a copy."

Thanks. Did you happen to notice which way he went?"

"First road on your right. It's paved for about a mile, then dirt. It peters out about five miles out of town. What's this guy wanted for, anyway?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"He's a retro, isn't he? I don't know why you people don't just leave them alone. They're not hurting anyone, most of them, anyway."

"Well, it's their choice. Anyway, it's not up to me. I don't make the laws, I just enforce them."

"Isn't that what they said at Nuremberg? 'I was just following orders'?"

"Great. Just what I need. A history major." Sara slipped the copy into her folder and walked back to the Solavette. She flipped open the satphone and punched up Central. "Hi, Lydia, it's Sara. Listen, I'm at the Forest Run General Store, and he was here all right. He bought camping supplies and six months worth of food and charged it to a credit card. I need you to run the number for me."

Sara read off the number and waited. "You're kidding! You're not kidding. He charged his getaway to the camp commissary? Talk about chutzpah! Anything new from LocSat? ..... Ten miles due east of here, huh? ..... He's probably hiding out in an old mine shaft or something. This whole area was one big gold mine a couple hundred years ago. I have a feeling I should've packed a change of clothes after all. This one could take a while ..... Thanks, 'bye."

Across the street was a small park, or at least what passed for one in the little burg; a couple of picnic tables under a tree and a creaky old merry-go-round. She might as well have her lunch here. She zipped open a redi-meal and zapped it in the 'vette's mini-wave. Meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, mixed vegetables. She hated eating on the road. She washed it all down with a pouch of soda, and dumped the waste in the autocinerator. She was ready to hit the road again.

Sara shifted from maglev to trak drive and turned onto the road the sales clerk had indicated. She was beginning to think she might have underestimated this Woods character. Those old 4-wheel drive vehicles could go almost anywhere her Solavette could go, and if he was as well-prepared as he seemed to be, he probably already had a good hideout already picked out. And now he was armed with the laser blade, which made him potentially dangerous. At the end of the dirt road she turned on the VapoSniff and set it for gasoline. There might not be any tire tracks, but she could always follow his exhaust fumes on the ground.

The scenery was spectacularly beautiful. All around her the spring flowers bloomed. Scrubby bushes and knee-high grass were interspersed with numerous rocky outcroppings, and in the distance the towering snow-capped peaks with their densely forested slopes caught and reflected the afternoon sun. She slammed to a halt as a white-tailed deer bounded across the meadow not fifty feet in front of her. She paused a moment, her heart in her throat.

The climb got rougher and steeper, and it was another hour before Sara finally caught a glimpse of the old 4-wheeler parked on a level area in front of an old abandoned mine. So far, so good. She turned on the hand-held locator and keyed in Woods' ID number. Nothing. He must be underground. She parked her own vehicle about a hundred feet to the right of the tunnel, set her weapon on stun, and made her way cautiously to the opening.

"Terence Woods, I know you're in there!" she shouted. "Come out with your hands up and nobody gets hurt!" No answer. "Three minutes, Woods. Come on out and you won't get hurt." She waited three minutes, then four. She sighed. He wasn't going to make this easy. She walked back to the 'vette and got her flashlight and night-vision goggles. She entered the cavern, and its coolness stunned her. The rough-hewn rock walls exuded moisture, and the air was damp and musty.

Overhead the ancient timbers creaked slightly. Sara shivered. She moved forward and the crunch of her footfalls echoed off the walls. She looked down and saw she was standing on a bed of crushed rock which lay between the wooden crossties of the old railbed that led into the mine. She stepped again, this time on one of the ties, and her rubber soles made no sound. She put her light on low and pressed forward, looking always to both sides, alert for any sign of life.

A hundred yards in, the tunnel turned sharply to the right. She made a wide sweep to the left. She wasn't about to get caught in an ambush. A volley of squeaking and the rush of thousands of wings startled her, made her duck. Bats. She relaxed, laughing at herself.

She pressed on. She was coming to an intersection. Another tunnel crossed at right angels to the first. She crept soundlessly froward and shone her light in both directions, but saw nothing. She switched off the light and waited a moment for her eyes to adjust. Was that a glimmer of light? There, to the left. She flipped down the night-vision goggles. Yes, there was definitely something down there.

Sara moved warily toward the light, constantly looking to both sides, her ears straining for the tiniest sound. The tunnel curved gently to the right, and again she made a wide sweep. Fifty feet down the corridor a small lamp stood alone next to the damp wall. An obvious ambush. She halted, searching for a niche, a fissure, a cubby-hole, any dark corner where a man could hide. Nothing.

She raised the goggles, switched on her light and looked again. She must be missing something. He was here. She could feel his breath, the very heat from his body. Suddenly there was a thud behind her, and a powerful arm encircled her shoulders. A dart of pain shot through her neck, and everything went black.

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