“Please be calm. There’s no reason for alarm. Those individuals who do not have valid permits will be detained for a period of six hours and compensated for their time. Their weapons will be confiscated but they will be released unharmed.”

“Why?” a man off to my right demanded suspiciously. “Why detain us?” He stood in a half-crouch, hand on gun, eyeing the Dragoons with open dislike.

“Because those who do have valid permits would like to arrive down-level unannounced,” Jaspers replied calmly, “and because you are not authorized to carry a weapon.”

The rest of us, those with valid permits, nodded sagely, and said things like, “Right on,” “You can say that again,” and “Tell ’em how it is, J-man!”

There was little doubt that the non-permitted shooters would sell us out if they had the chance. We looked at the man who had asked the question, and he wilted under the weight of our stares. He and twenty-six other people were led from the room. I wished I was one of them. The concept of getting paid for not working appealed to me. I should be so lucky.

The last of the rejects was no more than out the door when the rest of us were divided into what Jasper called “Sanction Teams” and placed under the command of steely-eyed ex-military types. And, being a steely-eyed ex-military type myself, I approved.

Judging from the way they carried out their briefings, the team leaders had done their homework. There were twelve people on my team, and our leader was a hard-eyed, tight-assed woman named Norris. She was pretty in a pinch-faced “don’t mess with me” sort of way, and I liked her style. We had gathered towards the rear of the auditorium, and she was talking about the equipment piled at our feet. She stood at parade rest.

“Forget the hardware you brought with you. According to data provided by the scanners built into the entry hall, you people are armed with everything from double-barreled Derringers to Hicap Machine Pistols. Rather than mess around with such a wide variety of ammo, and take the time to assess the reliability of your hardware, we decided to issue Glock Disposables.” Her arm blurred, and an ugly-looking block of metal and plastic appeared in her hand. I recognized it as the weapon in question. She sounded like a drill instructor.