The Amtrak Wars - Ironmaster Part 31

In the Paul Revere Medical College, which formed part of Inter-State U - itself an annexe of Houston/Grand Central, Roz Brickman came out of the neurological lab along with the rest of her cla.s.smates to find John Chisum leaning against the wall opposite the door. Because of the heavy workload imposed by the curriculum, Roz had begun to skip some of the regular Sat.u.r.day night javaand-jive sessions hosted by Chisum, but she made a point of visiting the apartment at Santanna Deep at least once a month.

Chisum had a line into some good gra.s.s, and although Roz had cut down on the amount she smoked, the occasional reef still helped to take the pressure off.

Chisum also provided the best in blackjack - illicit music tapes that could earn you a spell in the slammer or, for repeated offenders, drug therapy and worse. And there was always the chance that he might have some news of Steve.

Chisum eased himself off the wall as Roz sidestepped through the milling crowd of white-coats and gave his outstretched palm a friendly slap. 'Hi. What brings you here?"

'Didn't see you last Sat.u.r.day."

'No." She grimaced. 'May not be able to make it this week either."

'Same here." Chisum checked the activity in the corridor, then laid a hand on her elbow. 'You got a minute?"

'You can walk me to my next lecture. Will that do?"

'Guess it'll have to." They headed after her cla.s.smates.

'What's the problem?"

'Did I say I had a problem?"

'No but I'm picking up some bad vibrations."

'You're right,' sighed Chisum. He looked back over his shoulder, then gnawed at his lower lip. 'I'm being leaned on."

'Who by?"

'This guy."

'You'd better get to the bottom line soon, John. We're running out of corridor."

'He didn't give me his name!" hissed Chisum. 'All I know is he's some high-wire from the Black Tower."

The headquarters of AMEX - the Amtrak Executive.

.Roz eyed him cautiously. 'I've got a feeling I'm going to regret this but. why is he coming down on you?"

Chisum replied with an awkward shrug. 'Somebody must have blown the whistle on me."

'For shipping gra.s.s? Christopher Columbus!" Chisum motioned her to keep calm. 'It's not as bad as 'it sounds. These guys aren't Provos.

They promised not to press charges if I was prepared to give them certain information."

Roz felt her stomach turn over. 'About what?"

'About you and Steve." Chisum saw the look on her face and spread his hands defensively. 'I had to do it. Roz! They got me over a barrel!

It wasn't much, honest."

'What did you tell them, John? About that night Steve and I were together before he was sent down?"

'They already know everything there is to know about Santanna Deep."

'Columbus! Does that include the guys from here who've been tunnelling out every Sat.u.r.day night?"

'Na, don't worry. These people aren't interested in piddle-s.h.i.t stuff like that. There's only one thing they want to know about - what goes on between you two.

C'mon... you know what I mean."

'Maybe. What was your story?"

'I just gave 'em the few things Steve told me about the way you and him, uhh..."

Roz turned to face him as the group in front reached the appointed lecture room and began to file in. 'AboUt connecting?"

'Yeah,' said Chisum hurriedly. 'Stuff like that. Thing is, they want to see you. Ask questions."

'So why didn't they just pick me up? Why send you, John?"

'Maybe they thought you might not co-operate. When it comes to thought transfer, I don't know from s.h.i.t but it seems to me that it would be pretty difficult to prove one way or the other. You could tell 'em anything you liked."

Roz treated him to a cold-eyed glance. 'What makes them think I'll talk just to save your skin?"

Chisum shrugged. 'You don't have to do anything, but - ' A new, sharper note of desperation entered his voice. 'Be fair, Roz. The only reason why I'm mixed up in all this is because I stuck my neck out to bring you and Steve together."

'Yeah." Roz glanced over her shoulder and saw that they were alone in the corridor. 'Gotta go." She backed off. 'You sure know how to make a girl feel good, John.

Have a nice day."

'Listen ' The door to the lecture room swung shut in his face.

Chisum turned away with a quiet smile and made his way down to Level One-1. It shouldn't be as easy as this - especially with someone who was supposed to be telepathic.

Despite her mental bond with her kin-brother, they had both proved soft targets. After the meeting Chisum had set up between them, Steve had lost his coveted wingman status and had been transferred to the A-levels. Steve had been told it was as punishment for expressing sympathetic concern for Mutes - his former captors and the perpetual enemies of the Federation but, in reality, it was part of a softening-up process to get Steve in the right frame of mind for his next 'a.s.signment'.

Near the end of the third month of his three-year sentence, Chisum had dressed up as an A-level medic and contrived a 'chance meeting'. When Steve had asked the reason for his demotion, Chisum had put the blame on Roz. He had swallowed the story hook, line and sinker.

And later, when Karlstrom, the head of AMEXICO, had told Steve that Roz had come forward voluntarily and confessed everything he had told her about his time with the Mutes, he had believed that too.

But none of it was true. Roz had said nothing to anyone. She didn't need to: her meeting with Steve at Santanna Deep had been videotaped.

All the lies were part of a plan evolved by the faceless puppet-masters in the Black Tower. Roz and Steve were just two of an unknown number of Trackers whose lives had been manipulated from birth and who would probably die without ever knowing they were on the Special Treatment List.

Steve Brickman was a strange young man. When Chisum had been softening him up prior to the meeting with Roz, he had been bursting with tales of Mute magic, yet he seemed wilfully intent on neglecting the mental powers that he and his kin-sister possessed. Perhaps that was why it had been possible to play them off against each other. Roz's mind was open and eager to communicate, whereas Steve had pulled the shutters down.

And who was to say he was wrong? thought Chisum.

With the First Family telling you what to think every moment of the waking day it was hard enough just trying to get your own mind sorted out, without having someone else roaming around inside your head.