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Status," he said. "The Settlement Office Military Directorate has been engaged to police and contain the dispute."
      "That sounds like something you read off a prompter."
      "Ain't it a bitch when the truth comes as no surprise?" Lukes replied. He slapped Falk on the back. "You're done."
      Falk flexed his shoulders and circled his arms.
      "Good," he said. "I told you. Forty-two."
      "That's a thirty-six," said Lukes.
     
    • • •
     
    The rollers had their engines running ready, throbbing idle revs into the morning heat. Most of the rides were big sixwheel Fargo models spray-jobbed with tundra paint mottle, but there were two small Smartkart All-ways that would act as follow cars. Lukes led Falk to the front Fargo and showed him his seat. The specialist was carrying his M3A on a mesh sling over his right shoulder. The weapon seemed to sport an unnecessarily complex cluster of tactical optics on the top rail. The muzzle shroud covering the emitter's tube looked grotesquely wide, like a section of black plastic drainpipe.
      Falk discovered he had been placed behind Major Selton, who was strapped into the centreline command seat.
      "The general wisdom seems to be that the paramilitaries are landgrabbers," he remarked.
      "It's a time-worn story, and Eighty-Six isn't the first settlement to experience the problem," she replied. "It won't be the last."
      "What is it? Independence? Rejection of US dominion? Territorial ethics? Legal right to worship?"
      "That's quite a list," she said over her shoulder, busy listening to her com-plug while she addressed her dropdown tactical display.
      "It could be longer," said Falk. "A source told me that the Reserve Bank had reneged on the agreed scale for parcel subsidies for first- and second-generation settlers."
      "Not true," she said.
      "I also heard that mineral rights had been revised and cut to a one hundred and one year review."
      "That is true," she said, "but hardly material. The chances of any parcel tenant losing their mineral rights after review is very small. The review period has really just been reset to assist with the SO's ongoing resource audit. The only circumstances in which a parcel tenant would forfeit their mineral rights at point of review would be if the lode involved fell within the remit of a Strategic Significance Order."
      "Well, I also heard–" he began.
      "How long does this list get, Mr Falk?" she asked him, smiling. "Just so I can block out my afternoon."
      He held her look.
      "I guess it'll get longer and longer all the while the specific nature of the dispute remains vague. Speculation grows wild, especially since this is the first full-scale shooting war to take place post-globally since settlement began. That comes with the words big deal stamped on it."
      "If this is what a full-scale shooting war looks like," said Selton, "we haven't got much to worry about. This is a minor armed dispute. I don't think it's the big story you think it is. We've got it contained. It'll be over in a couple of months."
      "You don't think it's the big story I think it is, or you don't think it's the big story us media types think it is?"
      "I meant the latter, Mr Falk," she replied. "Why, is your imagination particularly feverish?"
      Something crackled in her ear. She signalled the driver up front and they started to roll. The Fargo immediately began to lurch and rumble over the rough terrain. It felt and sounded like every single one of the fat tyres had blown and shredded.
      "Everyone always wonders about the Central Bloc," Falk said.
      Selton shot him a glance. He couldn't tell if it was a nervous look or a pitying one.
      "The Cold War's been cold for nearly three hundred years, Falk. As we move out and expand, all it ever does is get colder and colder. Hard space sucks all the warmth out of it. We were at close quarters when it started, sharing one world, and still it started cold. It must be