Earth-Thunder

by Patrick Tilley

  Jefferson paused mid-way between desk and fireplace with an expansive gesture that matched the sweep of his scenario. ‘The Yama-Shita may have over-stepped the mark by setting up those out-stations around Lake Michigan, and in attempting to enlist the help of the D’Troit and C’Natti in enslaving the She-Kargo and M’Waukee, but you have to admit it was a great idea.’

  Karlstrom nodded.

  ‘And I believe that the majority of domain-lords – including those who have always supported the Toh-Yota – will also regard it as a step in the right direction. An inevitable step.…’

  ‘I agree,’ said Karlstrom. ‘But we’ve drawn the lines on the map. Everything west of Lake Erie and the Appalachians belongs to us.’

  ‘For the moment. Forget about what the Yama-Shita were planning to do. The fact that it was an act of war launched without the consent of the shogunate is a mere legal technicality. In losing those five wheel-boats and two thousand men, the Iron Masters – as a nation – have suffered a major military defeat at the hands of savages. Non-persons. The Plainfolk are the unwashed rabble they make slaves out of! The Shogun can’t walk away from this one,’ cried Jefferson. ‘The honour of the whole country is at stake!’

  Karlstrom leapt to his feet. ‘Yes! But what can he do? We’ve made it clear what’ll happen if they move troops into Plainfolk territory. We gave them the green light to continue trading but put the block on any military operations. We have every right to come down on them for this last stunt –’

  ‘Except, of course, we would be penalising the wrong people.’

  ‘Precisely. But if the shogunate succumbed to popular pressure and broke our agreement we couldn’t just sit on our hands. We would have to make good our threat of retaliation.’

  ‘If push comes to shove, can we deliver on that?’

  ‘The belief that we can is what’s kept them in line up to now. That plus the whole raft of electronic equipment we’ve been supplying to Ieyasu’s people. It’s those goodies which have kept the Toh-Yota one step ahead of their rivals. Ieyasu would block any move by the Shogun that would rob him of our support.’

  ‘Yes. But that unwillingness to adopt any course of action which could lead to a conflict with the Federation could also undermine the Toh-Yota shogunate.’

  ‘Because … they’d be defeated.…’

  ‘Yes. And they’d be seen to lose because the Traditionalist policies of Yoritomo’s family have held the country back. As long as he maintains the edict against the Dark Light, they’ll never be a match for us. Without electricity they ain’t ever going to break out of the technological straight-jacket they’ve locked themselves into.’

  ‘I can’t argue with that,’ said Karlstrom. ‘If I’ve got this right, you’re suggesting that the pressure to get even with the Mutes and the reluctance of the shogunate to do anything that will bring us down on their necks will garner more support for the Progressive movement … and could eventually lead to the overthrow of the Toh-Yota.’

  ‘Just airing a few thoughts,’ said Jefferson modestly. ‘How does it sound?’

  Karlstrom nodded admiringly. ‘It works for me.’

  ‘Good.’ Jefferson laid a friendly hand on his shoulder. ‘That’s why we must do our utmost to help the Toh-Yota stay in power.’ He smiled. I’ve always had a great respect for tradition. Families like ours should stick together.’ His grip on Karlstrom’s shoulder tightened. I’ll leave you to work out the details.’

  Some weeks later, as a result of this meeting, Steve found himself being rotated through into the Oval Office. Waiting on the other side of the ’stile was Karistrom. Jefferson the 31st – whom Steve had glimpsed on two occasions in Cloudlands but had never spoken to on an unofficial basis – was over by his desk. As he walked forward with Karlstrom to receive the warm Presidential handshake, Steve caught a glimpse of someone standing by the fireplace.

  It was Fran. How strange! She must have known about this meeting and yet she’d said nothing, even though that very morning she had been wriggling around on his con-rod like a speared fish.

  ‘Steven! Good to see you looking so well. Sad news about your kin-sister. Such promise, but there it is.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The laying on of the hands, hearing that deep rich voice intone his name still made Steve go weak at the knees.

  ‘We have a job for you. A very important job that will involve a long, and possibly dangerous, journey.’

  ‘You look surprised,’ said Karlstrom.

  ‘Uh, no, sir! I’m ready to undertake any assignment you care to give me. It’s just that I thought you wanted me to stay close to Clearwater in case…’

  Karlstrom laid on one of his thin, mocking smiles. ‘I don’t think she’s going anywhere for the moment, do you?’

  Sensing that Jefferson’s eyes were on him, Steve pulled himself together and put on a bold front. ‘What is it you wish me to do, sir?’

  Jefferson invited him to take the second seat, to Karlstrom’s right, that stood in line with the other corner of the desk. Fran remained by the fireplace, behind Steve’s back.

  The President-General laid his forearms on his desk and crossed one hand over the other. He had strong fingers. The hands of a craftsman. ‘Steven. All the assignments you have undertaken have been important, but on this occasion, you will be acting not just for the Federation, but as a representative of the First Family. You will be dealing with affairs of state – at the very highest level. Do you feel able to take on this responsibility?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Good. You have given ample proof of your courage and resourcefulness, and we have the highest regard for your intelligence and loyalty. You have also gained valuable experience through your contacts with the Iron Masters. That is why we want you to fly to Ne-Issan – to meet with Ieyasu, the Lord Chamberlain and the Shogun, and put certain proposals to them. You will be acting as my personal messenger in the same way that the Herald Toshiro Hase-Gawa represented the Shogun. Does the idea appeal to you?’

  Are you kidding?

  Steve fought to catch his breath. ‘Uh, I – wha – why, of course, sir! There’s just one snag. All the top Iron Masters speak Basic, but I only know the odd word or two of Japanese. Won’t that put me at a big disadvantage?’

  ‘That won’t be a problem,’ said the President-General. ‘Commander Franklynne Jefferson speaks the language fluently.’

  Steve felt two familiar hands slide onto his shoulders. The contact was so unexpected his brain froze and his body went rigid. It wasn’t just because they were in the Oval Office, it was something about the gesture itself. Like, as if … she owned him …

  ‘S-Sir…?’ It was the best he could manage.

  Jefferson seemed to find Steve’s momentary discomfiture mildly amusing. He spelt it out once again. ‘Commander Franklynn will be going with you.’

  Steve’s brain snapped back into gear. ‘Yes-sirr! I understand, sir! The thing is … there is no sexual equality in Ne-Issan. The Japs treat women as second-class citizens.’

  ‘That’s why you’re going to be acting as front man,’ explained Karlstrom.

  ‘But you’ll be taking your orders from me.…’ Fran loosened her grip on Steve’s shoulders and moved to the right of his chair. He glanced up and found a different Fran looking down at him. This wasn’t his bed-mate, it was the President of the Board of Assessors who had sentenced him to three years in the A-Levels.…

  ‘Any problems with that?’ asked the President-General?

  ‘None at all, sir!’ None at all.…

  Chapter Three

  Over the same time interval which ended with Steve getting his marching orders, Cadillac and Roz had also been preparing themselves for a journey into the Eastern Lands. Among the items Cadillac had recovered from the burnt-out ruins of the settlement were two of the three flags made from green and gold Iron Master fabric, and his own set of body colours – waterproof dyes in the form of a thick paste contained in small clay pots.


  There was just enough for one coat each. After bathing in the rock-pool, Roz knelt on a talking-mat in front of the hut, closed her eyes and offered up her face. Beginning a little way inside the hairline, Cadillac slowly covered Roz’s body from head to toe using four different skin colours plus her own golden UV-tan.

  Once a year over the last five years, he and Clearwater had renewed each other’s skin markings – markings that other Mutes were born with – and the random pattern of swirls and patches that began on Roz’s forehead and slowly spread to cover her whole body was a close copy of that same design.

  When the last touch had been applied and rubbed into her feet and ankles, Cadillac stepped back to admire his handiwork. Roz turned around for his benefit then examined her arms and the front of her body.

  ‘Can I touch it?’

  ‘Yes. But you have to rub some wood-ash over yourself to take the raw edge off the dye. I’ll do the bits you can’t reach.’ He walked with her to the shaded rock pool and watched her peer closely at her reflection. ‘Does it feel strange?’

  ‘No. The strange thing is, it doesn’t. I think I prefer myself this way.’ She got up off her knees and faced him. ‘It’s funny, here I am with no clothes on but … somehow I don’t feel naked. I feel…’ she spread her arms, searching for the word ‘… complete. Except for one thing.’

  Responding to her unspoken invitation, Cadillac gathered her into his arms. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I need a Name of Power,’ she whispered.

  Bestowing names was one of the tasks performed by Mute wordsmiths. Cadillac planted a kiss on the flowing dark brown stripe that now divided her forehead. ‘I have one for you. I have seen you turn your face to the clouds, have seen the happiness with which you greet the falling waters. Your name shall be Rain-Dancer.’

  Roz hugged him, then stepped away and leapt joyfully into the air, turning full circle before landing gracefully with arms outstretched. ‘It is done! I have shed my other self like the snake emerging from its old skin. I am finally free of the Federation!’

  ‘Don’t celebrate too soon,’ said Cadillac. ‘They can still reach you.’

  ‘Through Steve?’ Roz shook her head. ‘Not now that we’ve tricked them into thinking I’m dead.’ The state of the telepathic link between herself and Steve was the one secret she kept from Cadillac. The last contact had confirmed that she and Steve were free of suspicion, but since then she had felt his mind slip away each time she tried to make contact – just as it had when, at the age of eleven, he had announced his intention to compete for one of the coveted places at the Flight Academy.

  Roz knew that Steve was perfectly capable of looking after himself, but in closing the mind-bridge, he had also shut her off from Clearwater. She and Roz could communicate without the need for words, but it was not telepathy, it was empathy; a deep common bond of soul-sisterhood which allowed them to understand each other’s emotional state, and to divine what the other was thinking.

  But for this to take place, they needed to be in each other’s presence. Steve was the link; the key connection that allowed her to speak to her soul-sister from afar. She could only enter Clearwater’s mind if it was engaged with Steve’s – as she had when Steve had cradled her wounded body while waiting for the Red River medics to arrive. Roz guessed that Clearwater was probably being held in the Life Institute, but with Steve’s mind drifting out of reach she no longer knew if she was safe and well.

  Roz’s close physical and growing mental relationship with Cadillac had allowed him to study her closely. He had detected a certain evasiveness whenever he had broached the subject of Steve and Clearwater – especially in respect of Brickman’s intentions. Whatever he said was bound to get him into trouble, but it needed to be brought out in the open. ‘He’s gone off the air, hasn’t he?’

  ‘If he has, I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason.’

  ‘Yes. He’s sold out,’ said Cadillac. ‘He’s got Clearwater. He knows you’re with me. He knows what you can do. And now that you’ve got him off the hook, he figures he’s safer where he is.’

  Roz’s face darkened. ‘Why must you always think the worst?!’

  ‘Because ‘I’ve been inside his head!’ cried Cadillac. ‘And part of him is in me now! I know how his mind works!’

  ‘You have no right to judge him!’ Roz thrust him away and walked towards the hut. Cadillac followed her. Snatching her skirt off the ground with an angry gesture, she wrapped it around her waist and fastened the ties with trembling fingers. Thrusting her arms into the fringed sleeves of the leather tunic, she pulled it on and turned to face him, eyes blazing. I am the only one who knows the pressure he’s under! It’s something you have never experienced! And I pray to Mo-Town you never will!’

  ‘I bear heavy responsibilities!’ protested Cadillac.

  ‘And you’ve got me to help you! It’s not the same thing. Here, you’ve got room to think!’ Roz pointed to the ground. ‘Down there is a different world. I know Steve is still with us. And he’s going to do his very best to get Clearwater and her child out of the Federation – the same way he got you out of Ne-Issan.’

  ‘With a great deal of outside help,’ said Cadillac sourly. ‘And you may like to know that I built the aircraft which enabled us to reach the Hudson River! He didn’t carry me. I played an active part in that escape!’

  ‘Oh, really? That’s not what Clearwater told me. She said you were the one who didn’t want to leave! Go on! Admit it! You were having too good a time!’

  ‘I was until your kin-brother came along!’ The words tumbled out before Cadillac could stop himself.

  ‘Exactly!’ cried Roz. ‘You had sold out to the Iron Masters!’

  ‘That’s not true!’ shouted Cadillac. ‘That’s not how it was!’

  ‘All right, I believe you. You had your reasons – just as Steve has equally valid reasons for what he’s doing now. I know he hasn’t sold out. And deep down, so do you, don’t you?’

  Cadillac didn’t reply.

  Roz tried again. ‘Why can’t you bring yourself to trust him?’

  It took a while, but when his anger had subsided, the answer came: ‘Because he seeks to know everything, but he does not use that knowledge to change himself – only to gain power over those around him.’

  ‘Give him time.’ Roz’s voice was also calmer now. ‘I did not see things clearly at first, even though a voice deep within told me I did not belong to the underground world. Knowing is not the same as understanding. How much have you changed since our life-streams were drawn together?’

  ‘Whose side are you on?!’ cried Cadillac, his new spirit of reasonableness wearing thin.

  ‘Yours!’ said Roz. ‘But this jealousy, this rivalry between you must end! The four of us are bound together by ties far deeper and stronger than mere blood and friendship! The resentment and distrust you harbour gnaws at that bond like a cancer. Cut them out swiftly and cleanly, like a surgeon wielding a knife! Act like the warrior you’re supposed to be!’ She saw her words strike home and laughed at his crestfallen expression. ‘Do you realise we’ve just had our first quarrel?’

  ‘I’ve a feeling it won’t be the last,’ said Cadillac.

  Roz ran a teasing finger down his bare chest. ‘So how can I make it up to you?’

  ‘I can think of several ways,’ said Cadillac. ‘But first, this pale imitation of a warrior needs a paint job.’

  Protective colouring was not the only thing they needed. The long journey Cadillac had in mind called for horses and some extra security en route. There was little doubt that Roz could ward off almost any threat they were likely to meet but Cadillac was looking for a way to keep trouble at arms’ length. He had seen how the act of summoning earth-magic had left both Mr Snow and Clearwater physically weakened and looking utterly drained.

  All these gifts had their price, and just as Brickman had insisted on the need to husband Clearwater’s power, so it was with Cadillac now. Roz did not know why or ho
w she was able to warp people’s sense of reality, she just did it. But would it always be instantly available? Summoners could not produce an endless stream of earth-magic. Her mental powers might have similar limitations; that was why it was important not to abuse them. He did not want to arrive in Ne-Issan – where they would be in mortal danger every step of the way – only to discover that her ‘batteries’ had gone flat.

  As a couple, rattling around the landscape on their own, they were too exposed. To a hand of warriors from a rival clan who were out to put some blood on their knives they looked like an easy kill – exactly the kind of trouble Cadillac was anxious to avoid.

  There was only one answer – they had to seek the protection of another clan. The extended truce decided upon by the Great River Council, which had already enabled the M’Calls to gain the support of a She-Kargo and M’Waukee clan in setting up the surprise attack on The Lady, made such an arrangement entirely feasible. Cadillac ran through a mental list of the She-Kargo clans who laid claim to the territory north and east of the Laramie Mountains and decided upon the Clan M’Kenzi.

  While not as numerous as the M’Calls had been before their first encounter with The Lady, the M’Kenzi were a large clan and their delegation had supported Mr Snow’s efforts to weld the She-Kargo and M’Waukee into a coherent fighting force: a gesture of solidarity which had proved costly on the day. The M’Kenzi delegation were still scrambling for safety when the edge of the tidal wave had barrelled along the face of the bluffs, sweeping away many of those who had survived the bloody retreat along the sand-bars.

  Magnum-Force, the M’Kenzi’s wordsmith was one of the lucky ones. And also one of a rare breed; a female wordsmith. Cadillac knew there had been others in the past, but Magnum was the only living example. He also knew that, as of last year, she had not found a similarly-gifted child to train as her replacement. If approached in the right fashion, she might view him as a possible heir, and that would be sufficient to overcome any objections the other clan elders might have.