‘As I said earlier, the M’Calls had already taken heavy losses in their attack on the Lady. Cadillac wasn’t going to repeat that mistake by leading them into a trap. On the other hand, if I was genuine, a true and loyal friend of the Plainfolk, he still wasn’t prepared to let his clanfolk be killed trying to rescue my kin-sister. It was a no-win situation.’ Steve shrugged. ‘From then on it went downhill, and as he was trying to put a knife in me, we were hit by the Skyhawk.’
‘So what the hell are we doing talking about setting up a dummy take-over of Red River?’ demanded Nevill. His eyes searched out the other members of the task force then fixed on Steve. ‘If this piece of lump-shit wasn’t prepared to involve his clan in an attack on the wagon-train then, why in the name of the Family is he going to want to do it now?!’
Steve tried to appear patient and reasonable. ‘Because the situation has changed. Clearwater is on the train!’
Nevill grinned. ‘Boy – I wish I could be there when you break the news. I’d love to see you wriggle out of that one.’
‘I’ll manage …’
‘What will you say to him?’ enquired Wallis.
‘I’ll tell him he was right. My idea of trying to spring Roz from Red River was absolutely crazy. And the same goes for Clearwater. There is no way anyone can get on board that wagon-train and rescue her. He just has to be grateful she’s alive and accept that she is now a prisoner of the Federation.’
‘And what’s his reaction likely to be?’ asked Wallis.
Steve smiled. ‘I know this guy like the back of my hand. If I say she can’t be rescued, he’s gonna want to prove me wrong. And he’ll buy the idea of attacking the train because it won’t come from me but from Malone. He’s the guy who has to sell it to him. And he has to do it cleverly, so that Cadillac thinks it’s all his own work.’
Wallis mulled over the idea. ‘Sounds as if it might fly. Anyone spot any holes?’
‘Yeah,’ said Hannah, the mex sitting between Roz and Nevill on the other side of the table. ‘I believe our friend here has got these lumps figured but we can’t set up an attack on Red River without the approval from the man at the top. Okay, let’s say we get that –’
Nevill interrupted again. ‘Can’t see CINC-TRAIN agreeing to put Red River on the line – and Fargo ain’t gonna be too happy either.’
‘If Mother and the P-G give the go-ahead, CINC-TRAIN and Fargo won’t have any choice in the matter,’ said Wallis with a sudden hint of steel in his voice. ‘Carry on, Ray. Assume we’ve got the green light …’
Hannah resumed: ‘Okay. Let’s say we then come up with a workable plan. One which has a reasonable chance of success from the Mute’s point of view, but which we can turn around when the time comes to spring the trap. The question is – how can we be sure that the lumps will (a) swallow it and (b) follow it?’
‘That’s where I come in,’ said Steve. ‘The moment I get wind that Cadillac is serious about rescuing Clearwater, I’m going to oppose the whole idea. That will only make him more determined to go through with it. But to play my part properly, I will have to know exactly what the plan is.’
‘Point taken,’ said Wallis. ‘If we manage to get this thing off the ground Malone will be in touch.’
Steve shook his head. ‘Too risky. He and I have got to stay at arm’s length. Malone must take his cue from Cadillac and appear to mistrust me. Nothing heavy – otherwise his boys will wonder why he hasn’t put a bullet through my throat. He just needs to display a reluctance to let me in on what they’re planning. It’ll encourage Cadillac and Mr Snow to believe he is totally genuine.’
‘So how do we reach you?’ asked Wallis.
‘Through Roz.’
Nit-picker Nevill came off the sidelines. ‘What’s wrong with the normal channels of communication?’
‘You mean a radio-knife? Too risky,’ said Steve. ‘I was caught out once before. If we’re going to nail this bunch I have to win their absolute trust. I’m well on the way to doing that. Cadillac is a separate problem. A personality clash. We’re rivals. Anything I can do, he wants to do better. I don’t have this trouble with Mr Snow. He’s razor-sharp and he’s shrewd but I’ve managed to establish what you might call a “working relationship”. He likes me – and that’s another reason why Cadillac has this down on me. He’s jealous.’
‘How is Mr Snow going to react to the news that you’ve lost Clearwater?’ asked Parsons. He was the mex sitting between Roz and Wallis.
‘Well, he’s bound to look upon it as a set-back, but it’s not a major disaster. Thanks to Roz, I will at least be able to tell him that she’s alive and in good hands.’
‘But will he support Cadillac’s plan to go for Red River?’
‘He has to. The clan won’t attack a wagon-train if he isn’t there to lead them.’
Parsons insisted. ‘Yes, but how do you know he will?’
‘Because he’s old. He’s near the end of the line, with maybe only a couple of big shots left in the locker. Summoners die a little every time they call up the power. These guys don’t get a free ride. Each time they pull down the really heavy shit, their own lives are on the line. I’m not kidding. I’ve seen it. Their eyes are dead, their bodies are empty shells. It takes time to recharge the batteries.
‘The M’Calls will make an all-out effort to rescue Clearwater because she’s Mr Snow’s successor. Without a summoner, they can’t hold onto their position as the paramount clan of the She-Kargo bloodline. They’re finished. That’s why he will lead them against Red River.’ Steve smiled. ‘And as honorary member of the Plainfolk, I’ll be right alongside him.’
‘Haven’t you overlooked something?’ said Nevill, clearly underwhelmed by Steve’s assurances. ‘Something you told us a while back? About your friend Mr Snow – the Storm-Bringer? Isn’t that the name the Mutes give to someone who holds seven of the nine so-called Rings of Power?’
‘Yes …’
‘Terrific. This is the guy, who according to you, could have blown me out of the sky. And you’re suggesting we just let him loose inside Red River. You must be out of your fuckin’ mind!’
‘Red River won’t be in any danger.’ His kin-sister’s mouth was closed but Steve could her her other voice whispering to him. ‘Roz is not just a telepath. She has the power to completely disorientate Mr Snow’s mind – put it into neutral gear, if you like – so that he can’t use it to channel the power he draws from the earth and sky.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ scoffed Nevill. ‘Since when?’
‘Ask her,’ said Steve.
Wallis, anxious to take the heat out of the situation, adopted a conciliatory tone. ‘If this was true, it could be a very interesting development. Is there, ahh – any way you could validate the claim your kin-brother has just made?’
Roz looked a little nervous. ‘You mean … now?’
‘Well, yes. I realize we’re not under threat from a summoner, but if you could give us some tangible demonstration of the, ahh – mental powers you would use on such an occasion it –’
‘– would be very helpful,’ said Steve.
Nevill laughed. ‘For crissakes, Dan! You don’t really believe this bullshit, do you?’
‘Jake – just shut your mouth, okay?’ Wallis nodded to Roz. ‘Is this how you want to do it? With us sitting around the table?’
‘Yes, that’s fine.’ Roz placed her hands on the table, shut her eyes and breathed deeply. ‘Move your chairs as close in as you can.’
‘Do we have to shut our eyes too?’ asked Wallis.
‘No,’ said Roz. ‘I want you to enjoy the view.’
And with that, the room dissolved around them. Steve felt a stiff breeze on his face. Looking up, he saw a clear blue sky above his head, stretching away to an incredibly distant horizon rimmed with clouds. They were sitting around the table in the open air! It was an hallucination, of course. But one they all shared, and the detail was absolutely amazing. So real! It was fantastic!
Roz loo
ked incredibly tranquil, in marked contrast to the task-force who sat paralysed with terror. Looking down, Steve saw why. This hallucination was not only fantastic, it was absolutely horrific. He and the other people seated round the table were perched on top of a narrow pinnacle of weathered rock at least a thousand feet above the plain below. The flat top of the rock was just large enough to hold the table and the tubular metal chairs. The slightest backward movement by anyone would cause them to topple over the edge!
Oh, shit… Steve sneaked a quick glance down at the terrifying drop then decided this was one demonstration he could have done without. He had no fear of heights when flying but being perched precariously on the edge of a sheer drop made him feel quite sick. This isn’t happening, he told himself. I’m sitting in a hospital ward on the top deck of a wagon train. But his mind told him otherwise. The sky, the breeze, the pinnacle of red rock was real. And so was the giddying force that was drawing him like a magnet towards the plain below!
Mastering the impulse to throw himself into the void, Steve slid his hands carefully across the table. His first idea was to secure himself by grabbing hold of Roz’s wrists but as his right hand brushed across her left hand he received a violent electric shock which threw his arm in the air. Fortunately the jolt twisted him sideways and not backwards. He managed to get his left hand over the far edge. There wasn’t a lot of room because everyone around the table had had the same idea.
Don’t panic, Brickman. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Your little sister is just showing this bunch of assholes what she can do …
Steve heard a strangled cry from Nevill’s end of the table. Looking between the heads and over the outstretched arms of his companions, he saw the reason for Nevill’s distress. The pinnacle of rock had two points. Nevill’s chair was poised on top of the second, smaller peak, about six feet away from the table. The top was just wide enough to hold the base of the chair. Nevill sat there, rigid with terror, clutching the seat, with his feet hanging in the air. Just looking at him made Steve even worse than before.
He closed his eyes and tried to contact his kin-sister.
Okay, Roz, you’ve made your point. Now get us out of this nightmare …
‘Hey, guys! Please! Help me!’ Nevill’s gruff, macho delivery had dissolved into a strangled bleat.
Are you kidding? One false move and well all be over the fucking edge!
Nevill’s voice became a shrill squawk. ‘Aaghh! AAghh AAGHH!’
Steve forced himself to look in his direction. The top of the second rock needle had started to crumble. Nevill’s chair was tilting over backwards. The mex didn’t dare lean forward for fear of overbalancing in the other direction. He was frozen to the chair, eyes bulging, his open mouth twitching grotesquely in horrified anticipation—
Steve glimpsed the rubber sole of Nevill’s boots rise into the air then shut his eyes as the chair went over, pitching the mex into the void. The sound of Nevill’s scream made his blood run cold—
There was a heavy thump and a crash of metal. The breeze which had been buffeting Steve’s face ceased abruptly. He opened his eyes and saw Roz looking at him. The table was back in the hospital ward but those seated around her could not quite believe it. They looked at each other, stunned, speechless, then all eyes went to Nevill’s end of the table. His chair lay on the floor; Nevill was sprawled on his back beside it. Ray Hannah and Daryl Coates, the mex on Steve’s left, righted his chair and helped him to his feet.
Nevill was shaking uncontrollably and there was a spreading dark patch around the crotch of his fatigues where he had fouled himself. He gripped the table to steady himself as Hannah and Coates eased him back into the chair. ‘Christo! I had the most terrible –’ He broke off as he saw their tense faces. ‘Wh-what happened?!’
‘Good question …’ To judge by Wallis’ total lack of colour, he’d had a bad trip – like everyone else. He eyed Roz nervously, and when he spoke, his voice wavered. ‘Thank you. Yes … that was, uhh … most instructive.
I had no, uhh –’ He cleared his throat and in doing so, forced his voice up half an octave. ‘Why don’t the two of you check on how your patient is doing, while we, uhh …?’
‘Of course,’ said Roz.
The task force watched in total silence as Steve followed her out. Hannah shut the door behind them.
As they went down the stairs, there were a million questions buzzing around in Steve’s head. It had been a shattering experience. His legs were like jelly but he tried to sound casual. ‘That was quite a stunt you pulled back there. I’m impressed.’
Roz, two steps below him, glanced back and smiled. ‘This is just the beginning.’
The smile was the smile he had always known, but the look in her eyes belonged to a stranger. And there was something else. He had done all the talking while she listened, but for most of the time he had been nothing more than a mouth-piece. Roz had put the words into his head.
There are forces at work here I don’t understand, thought Steve. And for the first time in his life he felt frightened of his kin sister …
CHAPTER THREE
Cadillac stirred as the effect of the sleeping-pills began to wear off. Griff, the breaker who had been guarding the smooth-boned Mute, stood up as Malone approached. ‘Another five or ten minutes and he should be on his feet.’
‘Good. Get saddled up. I want to make the most of this moonlight.’
‘If it’s okay with you, I’d prefer to walk and just use it to carry my gear.’
‘I don’t give a lump’s ass for what you prefer,’ snarled Malone. ‘You’ll get on that fuckin’ horse and learn to ride like the rest of us!’
‘Wilco!’ Griff stepped back out of range of Malone’s fists and feet then ran towards the line of tethered horses they’d inherited from a strange trio of travelling Mutes. These three, who had come out of the east, didn’t act like your normal run-of-the-mill lump-head. In fact, to judge by the amount of time Malone had spent talking to them before the air strike, they were something extra-special.
Griff’s curiosity about the matter ended there. Malone was one tough hombre, and if, for some reason, he’d decided to cosy up to a bunch of Mutes then that was strictly his business. The guy knew what he was doing and anyone who poked his nose where it wasn’t wanted got a short, sharp lesson he never forgot. Any breaker foolish enough to forget the first lesson, didn’t survive the second.
Like most breakers, Griff didn’t like Mutes but he’d learned to live alongside them. And provided you didn’t kill ’em. they left you pretty much alone. The clans preferred you to stay off their turf but if you went on through their boundary markers and were challenged by a posse of warriors you could usually buy ’em off by giving them a few bits of junk to hang on themselves. And if you handed over any crossbow bolts you’d found – because they did sometimes miss when out hunting – then you really made their day.
The bolts, like the crossbows that fired them, were highly-prized items made by a bunch of ginks over in the east. Mutes even traded their own people to get hold of them, so a handful of free bolts was a big bonus. They’d start laughing and leaping around, shouting and crowing. But in amongst all the jibber-jabbering, they used real words, strung together – and which made sense.
That had been his biggest surprise on encountering Mutes during his first tour of duty as a service engineer in a Kansas work camp. And ever since becoming a breaker – the moment when he’d been obliged to treat Mutes as equals and not as sullen slaves – Griff had been constantly amazed to discover how normal they were. Okay, they had lumpy skulls and multi-coloured hides, but they were like Trackers in so many ways. Griff could never figure out how they could act the way they did and yet not be human beings. It was a real mystery.
This trio who’d come riding out of the east at the head of a whole bunch of horses was a good example. They spoke regular Basic and their brains were as sharp as a knife. And if you stripped away the dark to light brown patches on their skin
s with your mind’s eye and stood ’em alongside three good ole boys you’d be hard put to tell the difference. And when Griff thought about the time he’d spent watching the training videos about bug-ugly Mutes – poisonous savage vicious animals that had to be ruthlessly exterminated – he couldn’t help wondering why the First Family hadn’t told Trackers the whole story: like the fact that a bunch of breakers could live alongside Mutes and not end up with their heads on a stick.
Yeah … it was a puzzle right enough – like trying to figure out why anyone would want to sit on top of one of these four-legged freaks they’d been landed with. Especially when they had teeth that could bite right through your hand and back legs that kicked like a fuggin’ jack-hammer. Okay, this bunch had come complete with a seat on their backs and leather straps for steering ’em round corners but it was a helluva way to travel.
Griff could see that horses would be useful for carrying gear but even that had its drawbacks. Leading a string of pack-horses just made you a bigger target and there was always the risk that the beasts might decide to bolt with your precious possessions. Better to travel light than start relying on a transportation system that a passing Skyhawk could blow away in nought seconds flat.
On the other hand, if he put his own feelings to one side, Griff could see what Malone and his new Mute friends had been getting at. If you managed to stay in the saddle and figure out how to get the thing in gear, you could cover a lot of ground pretty fast. Fast enough to outrun a Mute. Some of the guys had already cracked the problem and when he watched them show off in front of the others, Griff could see it gave the riders a real buzz.
There was no two ways about it. It was impressive – but it wasn’t natural. Or practical. You just had to take the problem of maintenance. Horses weren’t like wheelies. If one of those broke down you just ran the on-board diagnostic programme and ordered whatever new part was required. With horses, you were totally screwed. To begin with, nobody knew what went on inside and you couldn’t bolt on new legs like you could wheels. If one of those broke that was it. You couldn’t even cannibalize the unit to create a stock of spare parts. You had to ditch the whole bundle.
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