Free Wintermoon Ice (2010) by Suzanne Francis Page A

in the truck and peeled away rather vigorously considering the apparent age of the vehicle, Suvi thought. Just another little contradiction.
    * * * *
    "I won't be long, Chelah." The degum wound round her legs disconsolately. "I need to pay a visit to Max, at the Field, and see what he has for us this week."
    Chelah growled, deep in the back of her throat.
    "Well, yes, I don't think much of him either, but he does help us. Even if it is just another business transaction to him." Suvi picked up the file; the one she had stolen from the man named Jack, and tucked it into her jacket.
    She gave her pet a quick pat. "Bye, Chelah. I will try to get some tinned milk for you." The degum growled happily, then curled in the middle of Suvi's pillow, with her long tail wrapped tight around her body.
    Suvi scanned the sky outside. Low cloud meant any bombers would come in unobserved, but since there had already been a raid today, she felt reasonably safe. She took the motapede on to Wharfan Svaate, and headed south, in the direction of Ebbetsfeld. The civil defense authority discouraged daytime travel, so the deserted roads seemed almost peaceful. She made good time, adroitly taking footpaths and little used lanes to avoid the ever-present roadblocks. The motapede handled well; even better than before the accident, forcing Suvi to admit that whatever else Thommats Finn might be, he was a capable mechanic.
    High, barbed wire fences surrounded Ebbetsfeld, but the rusty metal sagged in many places. Suvi bypassed the main gate, with its many guards, and followed a gravel road round the compound to a little-used back entrance. She drew up to the guardhouse and removed her helmet. The soldier manning the gate stood at attention, his thin, pale face pinched with cold.
    Suvi recognized him and waved. "Hello, Willkie. How are you today?"
    The sentry, a young Spear of about sixteen, looked around quickly for his Sergeant and then gave her a small, secretive smile. "Fine, Miss Markku. And you?"
    "I am well. And Belle sends her regards. Will you come to the dinner on Friday night? I am sure she would be glad to see you."
    Willkie frowned. "You know what the Sergeant says, Suvi. We ain't allowed to mix with the locals. Especially now. The field is locked tighter than a drum." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Some big push going to happen up North, that is what I heard. We might get the call any day now."
    Suvi gave a guilty frown, thinking about the papers she had stashed in her pocket. "All the more reason to come this Friday. You can sneak through the back way, in your civilian clothes. How else will you see your lady love before you ship out?"
    He seemed unconvinced. "I don't know. I could get in an awful lot of trouble..."
    She grinned and poked his shoulder. "Since when do you care? And anyway there will be dancing."
    His eyes brightened. "Are you going to sing?"
    "If you come, I promise I will."
    The Sergeant, a bluff, red-faced fellow, appeared around the corner. The sentry, who had been slouching, straightened his back. "Here is your pass, Miss. Remember you must leave the field after thirty minutes, no longer." He handed over a small white card, which Suvi stuck in her pocket.
    "Thank you, Private." Suvi gave him a secretive wink. "See you on Friday." She sped off on her motapede before Willkie could argue. After wending her way through lanes of beat-up Harrier Corps trucks and a few heavy field guns, she arrived at the supply depot. Suvi parked the pede and picked her way through the muddy forecourt.
    A swarthy, unkempt man stood in the doorway, scratching his broad expanse of belly, only just covered by his uniform shirt. "Well, well. If it ain't Miss Suvi! And what have you got for your old buddy Max today?"
    Suvi forced a smile. "I think you will be impressed." She waited until they were inside the office before carefully peeling the top sheet off the file. "Have a look."
    He gave a long, low whistle. "Operation Pincer?