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.It was an uncomfortable hour.The sheriff wasn't the only hostage, in fact;everyone else's fate was dependent on the outcome of a string of unpredictableevents.And nobody wanted to talk about it, not with the sheriff listening.I became curiously calm as the floater dropped to ground level, near the citylimits.There was a certain amount of danger ahead, but it was thin soupcompared to what I remembered of combat.I didn't want to think about how many years ago that was.I hoped the museumguards were soft city boys and girls--bookish and unfamiliar with violence.Maybe old folks.I'd give them a story for the grandkids, regardless."I was there when the crazy vets highjacked the starship." Or maybe "One daythis crazy guy ran in with tear gas.I shot him." But none of us couldremember the museum guards being armed, which would have been memorable.Maybethey just kept the guns out of sight.Maybe I should worry about somethingelse.Marygay had her thumb on the OVERRIDE button, but it wasn't necessary.ThePage 43 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlfloater stopped forfile:///D|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ha.0Forever%20War%2002%20-%20Forever%20Free.txt (43 of 114) [7/12/2004 12:54:34 PM]file:///D|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Haldeman,%20Joe%20-%20Forever%20War%2002%20-%20Forever%20Free.txt cross-traffic a block before the library.I gaveher a kiss and slipped out the door.The snow was sifting down slowly, straight--still good for the shuttle andperhaps for me, since it would slow down response to a call for help from themuseum.I threaded my way through the inching traffic, people perhaps beingextra-courteous because of my limp.The crowbar had slid past my knee.It occurred to me that the museum might be closed, and that might be a goodthing.I could break in and, although it would doubtless set off an alarm, Iwould just be dealing with police, and not a lot of bystanders.No such luck.As I approached the museum, someone was leaving, backing out thefront door with a wide covered tray, probably breakfast.I went through the heavy wooden door, and sure enough, the guard was nibblingat a piece of cake from a stack of assorted kinds on a plate.She was a femaleMan, in her early twenties.She said something to me in their language,mumbling through a mouthful.I think she said good morning, and invited me toleave my coat and attache case there.She had the broad chin they all have, a good target for a punch.When shelooked inside the case, I'd give her an uppercut that I hoped would knock herout for a minute and leave her disorganized for another.It wasn't necessary.She asked me what was in the bag, and I said, in slowEnglish, "I don't know.I'm from Paxton, supposed to deliver this to the Manin charge of the weapons exhibit.""Oh, he's not a Man; he's one of you.Jacob Kellman, he came in two or threeminutes ago.You could take it right to him, A4." The small building only hadtwo stories, with four rooms each.The door to A4 was closed.I opened it and there was no one inside.No lock.Ieased it shut and worked fast--pulled out the crowbar and ran past all of theless potent examples of man's inhumanity to all species, straight to the glasscase with the fighting suit.Two swings with the crowbar and the front pane ofglass cascaded in.I ran back toward the door and got there just as it opened.Kellman was agreybeard, at least as old as me, unarmed.Drawing on my vast knowledge ofhand-to-hand combat, I shoved him hard and he fell down sprawling in thecorridor.I slammed the door shut again and wedged the crowbar in between thedoor and the jamb, as a crude lock, and hurried back to the exhibit.The fighting suit was a newer model than the last one I'd had, but I hoped thebasic design hadn't changed.I reached into the concealed niche between theshoulders and felt the emergency lever and pulled.It wouldn't work if therewas anyone alive in the suit, but fortunately it was unoccupied.The suitclamshelled open, smashing another pane of glass, and the reassuring hydraulicwheeze meant it had power.Someone was pounding on the door and yelling.I got one boot off and with astockinged foot swept away enough broken glass so I could stand barefootedwhile I undressed.Got my sweater and pants off and tried to rip open theshirt, but the buttons were sewn on too well.While I fumbled with them, thepounding became a rhythmic heavy thump--someone bigger than Kellman wasapplying a shoulder to the door.I got both gas grenades out of the briefcase, pulled the pins, and hurled themthe length of the room.They popped with a satisfying swirl of opaque cloudand I stepped backward into the suit, slid my arms into the sleeves, andclenched both hands, for the "activate" signal.I didn't bother with theplumbing; I'd either hold it in or live with the results.For a long second, nothing happened.I smelled the first acrid hint of thetear gas.Then the suit closed around me with a disconcerting jerkiness.Page 44 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlThe monitor and displays came up and I looked to the lower left: power was at0.05, weapons systems all dark, as expected.A twentieth of normal power still made me a Goliath, at least temporarily.Thecool machine-file:///D|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ha.0Forever%20War%2002%20-%20Forever%20Free.txt (44 of 114) [7/12/2004 12:54:34 PM]file:///D|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Haldeman,%20Joe%20-%20Forever%20War%2002%20-%20Forever%20Free.txt oil smell meant I had my own air.I reached downto pick up my clothes and fell on my face with a huge crash.Well, it had been a long time since I'd been in one of these, and even longersince I'd used aGP unit--General Purpose, one size fits everybody.Normally, I'd had onetailored to my dimensions.I managed to clamber back up to my feet and stuff the clothes, minus boots,into a front"pocket," just before they beat the door open.There was a lot of coughing andsneezing.One figure came staggering out of the cloud, a female Man who waspumped up like our sheriff, in a similar uniform, also with a pistol.She washolding it in both hands, waving it in my general direction, but her eyes werestreaming and I assumed she hadn't seen me yet.These people were not my concern.There was an emergency exit door behind me.I turned, rocking like a zombie from a 1950s movie, and lurched toward it.TheMan fired three shots.One of them put a nice hole in a display of nuclearweapons and one broke an overhead lamp
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