This Perfect Day

Early in September of 172, a party of seven men and women accompanied by a "shepherd" named Anna set out from the Andaman Islands in Stability Bay to attack and destroy Uni. Announcements of their progress were made in the programmers' dining room at each mealtime. Two members of the party "failed" in the airport at SEA77120 (head-shakings and sighs of disappointment), and two more the following day in a carport in EUR46209 (head-shakings and sighs of disappointment). On the evening of Thursday, September tenth, the three others—a young man and woman and an older man—came single-file into the main lounge with their hands on their heads, looking angry and frightened. A stocky woman behind them, grinning, pocketed a gun.

The three stared foolishly, and the programmers rose, laughing and applauding, Chip and Deirdre among them. Chip laughed loud, applauded hard. All the programmers laughed loud and applauded hard as the newcomers lowered their hands and turned to one another and to their laughing applauding shepherd.

Wei in gold-trimmed green went to them, smiling, and shook their hands. The programmers hushed one another. Wei touched his collar and said, "From here up, at any rate. From here down..." The programmers laughed and hushed one another. They moved closer, to hear, to congratulate.

After a few minutes the stocky woman slipped out of the crush and left the lounge. She turned to the right and went toward a narrow upgoing escalator. Chip came after her. "Congratulations/' he said.

"Thanks," the woman said, glancing back at him and smiling tiredly. She was about forty, with dirt on her face and dark rings under her eyes. "When did you come in?" she asked. "About eight months ago," Chip said. "Who with?" The woman stepped onto the escalator. Chip stepped on behind her. "Dover," he said. "Oh," she said. "Is he still here?"

"No," Chip said. "He was sent out last month. Your people didn't come in empty-handed, did they?"

"I wish they had," the woman said. "My shoulder is killing me. I left the kits by the elevator. I'm going to get them now." She stepped off the escalator and walked back around it. Chip went with her. "I'll give you a hand with them," he said. "It's all right, I'll pick up one of the boys," the woman said, turning to the right. "No, I don't mind doing it," Chip said.

They walked down corridor past the glass wall of the pool. The woman looked in and said, "That's where I'm going to be in fifteen minutes."

"I'll join you," Chip said. The woman glanced at him. "All right," she said.

Boroviev and a member came into the corridor toward them. "Anna! Hello!" Boroviev said, his eyes sparkling in his withered face. The member, a girl, smiled at Chip. "Hello!" the woman said, shaking Boroviev's hand. "How are you?"

"Fine!" Boroviev said. "Oh, you look exhausted!" 1 am.

"But everything's all right?"

"Yes," the woman said. "They're downstairs. I'm on my way to get rid of the kits."

"Get some rest!" Boroviev said.

"I'm going to," the woman said, smiling. "Six months of it."

Boroviev smiled at Chip, and taking the member's hand, went past them and down the corridor. The woman and Chip went ahead toward the steel door at the corridor's end. They passed the archway to the garden, where someone was singing and playing a guitar. "What kind of bombs did they have?" Chip asked.

"Crude plastic ones," the woman said. "Throw and boom. I'll be glad to get them into the can." The steel door slid open; they went through and turned to the right. White-tiled corridor stretched before them with scanner-posted doors in the left-hand wall. "Which council are you on?" the woman asked. "Wait a second," Chip said, stopping and taking her arm.

She stopped and turned and he punched her in the stomach. Catching her face in his hand, he smashed her head back hard against the wall. He let it come forward, smashed it back again, and let go of her. She slid downward—a tile was cracked—and sank heavily to the floor and fell over sideways, one knee up, eyes closed.

Chip stepped to the nearest door and opened it. A two-toilet bathroom was inside. Holding the door with his foot, he reached over and took hold of the woman under her arms. A member came into the corridor and stared at him, a boy of about twenty.

"Help me," Chip said.

The boy came over, his face pale. "What happened?" he asked.

"Take her legs," Chip said. "She passed out."

They carried the woman into the bathroom and set her down on the floor. "Shouldn't we take her to the medicenter?" the boy asked.

"We will in a minute," Chip said. He got on one knee beside the woman, reached into the pocket of her yellow-paplon coveralls, and took out her gun. He aimed it at the boy. "Turn around and face the wall," he said. "Don't make a sound."

The boy stared wide-eyed at him, and turned around and faced the wall between the toilets.