Free North Wind by Gwyneth Jones Page A

her cloak, with a rock in her strengthless hands.
    Something went thunk. The gauntlet came loose, and instantly Sid got a hand and arm between himself and the carapace. The suit recovered quickly from that fly-swat, it was trying to get its glove back over his face….
    BLAM!!!
    Sid crawled to his knees, while the echoes rolled. His head was ringing, his eyes bleared, his throat was on fire. The suit lay still, a blackened hole in its chest. Sid reeled away, found Bella and clutched at her: his face buried in her shoulder, his lungs heaving. Flower-stem arms hugged him, until he managed to stop shaking and stood upright.
    “I told you to stay put,” he quavered, trying to be funny.
     she asked.
    They crouched on either side of it. Sid tugged at the helmet unit. He didn’t know this model, but he knew the seals would release easily if someone inside needed resuscitation. It came away without resistance.
    “It can be a robot. They can walk about on their own.” A woman’s face looked up at him, shocked and sad. “But often a suit is worn by a businessman, a Mr. Fixit. Businesswoman, in this case. What they used to call a plumber, when Braemar Wilson was around.”
    Adrenalin made him garrulous, he hardly knew what he was saying. He pulled off a gauntlet, lifted the slack wrist and showed Goodlooking a broad silver bracelet, incised with a pattern of crossed branches and flames. “This is a Campfire Girl. United Socialist States Special Exterior Force. She’s from the USSA.”
    
    “Ah, like most truth: not quite true. They used to be called the policemen of the world. Maybe they still feel responsible. Anyway, SEF keeps an eye on things over here. Sometimes they shoot trouble, if they think they can get away with it.”
    The Socialist States had decided long ago to keep the aliens out. The Special Exterior Force kept watch over the infested Old World, but at a price. They lived and died in their own quarantine, they could never go home. They were dedicated people.
    Her suit would have become amour at a touch. But in an armored suit you felt trapped. You didn’t stiff it until you were actually under fire, whatever your officers said. I’m sorry, he told the dead woman silently. I’ve never killed anyone before, not in the real. He replaced the helmet and the glove. He and Bella looked at each other, across the ominous body.
    
    “I don’t know. Monitoring the protest and the Gender truce, I’d guess: just routine, I hope. But we should not hang around. It is not a good idea to kill a Campfire Girl. We’d better get you covered again.”
    For speed, he carried her back to the stable. They drank half the canteen between them. Sid got the jeep out onto the road and lowered its wheels. They set off towards Korinth in the dusk.
    “It’s about a hundred and fifty klicks. There may be roadblocks. We’ll bluff our way through. The jeep’s panel has no map system. We wouldn’t want aliens to have maps, would we? So I’d rather stay on the road. If we’re challenged, keep quiet. Give them a silence; nine times out of ten the other person will fill it. Let them make up their own story. You concentrate on giving them a good impression ‘informally,’ in the Common Tongue: you know. Tell ’em you’re normal and everything’s fine.” Beside him the cone of dark cloth didn’t stir or make a sound.
    Sid began to relax enough to worry about the suit. “Probably she was working alone. She’ll have left a flier somewhere near. When she doesn’t check in, it’ll go back to the mothership or to base. They don’t tangle with Old Earth authorities and definitely not with the gender warriors. With luck the suit’s working record will convince them she was killed by a random Greek bandito”
    Suddenly there were lights ahead. They were the headlights of a long, armored vehicle, half blocking the road. Sid