The Amtrak Wars - Ironmaster Part 58

'You know what I mean."

Steve smiled. 'I got friends in high places." There was no harm in telling her the truth. It was clear she didn't believe him. There were moments when he could hardly believe it himself. 'I had to get here. I meant what I said about escaping. Things are starting to come together. If it works, I'm taking off with those two Mutes I told you about. You still with me?"

'Yeah. Count me in."

'Have you had a chance to sound out Kelso?"

'Not yet. I've been waiting for the right opportunity."

Jodi gave a quick laugh. 'Seeing you again has ruined his digestion."

'Maybe I'd better speak to him myself. Put him right about a few things."

'I wouldn't do that,' said Jodi. 'From the noises he's been making I think he'd still like to get you down a dark alley. But he can't risk it because you're working with the honcho. If he queered things, the other guys would take him apart."

'Has he told the others I'm one of you?"

'No. And I haven't told him you're an undercover Fed -' 'Jodi! How many times do I have to tell you?! I'm not a-' 'Yeah, I know. You were forced into this because they're threatening your kin-sister.

Maybe they are, maybe they aren't. It doesn't matter. I'm not stupid, Brickman. You're never going to admit you're an undercover Fed because, officially, there ain't no such thing - right? That's how it works, don't it? n.o.body knows for sure, so n.o.body sticks their neck out. They're too busy looking over their shoulder. But you and I know exactly what you are. So from here on in, don't give me any more of the wide-eyed innocent s.h.i.t."

Steve studied her as he weighed his reply. 'You're right. I am on the payroll. But it's true about Roz. They used her to force me into this."

'Jodi gave a wry smile. 'Don't worry. I won't blow your cover. You were right about me too. I am a True Blue.

We've flown together and been bunk-mates aboard the Lady. You asked for my help and I agreed to do whatever I can. Try and remember if we ever get out of here."

'I'm not sure what you mean . . ."

'It's very simple. I'm willing to go back - but not if they're gonna send me to the wall."

'That's not going to happen."

'Sure. But if the wrong 'signals start coming down the line, give me a chance to get away. That's all I'm asking.

If I'm gonna die I'd rather do it up here where the sun shines.

Okay?"

'You have my word on that." Steve thrust out his hand but she didn't take it.

'I gotta go,' said Jodi. 'There's a couple of the guys over there who've had their eye on us. Wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea."

Steve stood up and backed off. 'Sure ... I understand. One last thing. If you're still not sure about me, deep down, why get involved?

Why don't you just turn me in?"

Jodi shrugged. 'Maybe it's because guys who break the rules are more exciting to be with." She gave a dry laugh.

'Crazy, isn't it? If I wasn't any use to you, you wouldn't give me the time of day. Especially now I've only got half a face."

'That's not true,' hissed Steve. 'I told you way back. I care what happens to you."

Jodi treated him to a penetrating, sideways glance and laughed again.

'You wanna know something, Brickman?

Not that it makes any difference but - I don't think you've ever really cared about anybody in your whole life."

Steve watched her walk away. His chest felt like an empty, frozen cave. She's wrong! he told himself. He recalled what Donna Monroe Lundkwist had said to him when they'd put the bomb in the barrel after the pa.s.sing-out parade. Donna, his cla.s.smate and rival at the Air Force Academy, who had asked him to kill her as she lay paralysed by a crossbow bolt buried in her spine. She had been wrong about him too.

It wasn't true. It wasn't!

And it was not female vanity that caused Jodi to remark upon her disfigurement; she no longer felt whole. The ideal of unblemished physical fitness was inculcated in Trackers from day one. They might vary in size, build and appearance but, seen en ma.s.se, they all looked as if they'd come off the same production line. There were no dwarfs or beanpoles. Everybody was strong, healthy, clear-eyed and well proportioned. Heroes like Poppa Jack, Steve's guard-father, dying gracefully from the inside out from radiation-induced cancer, were paraded in their Wheelchairs, but permanent invalidity did not exist.

No malformed or brain-damaged infants ever emerged from the delivery rooms of the Life Inst.i.tute, and it was an accepted .fact that Trackers who had the misfortune to be severely disabled or disfigured through an underground accident or while on overground operations never recovered from surgery.

The proposal to power the flying-horses using rockets was conveyed to Min-Orota through the usual intermediaries.

Two days later, Cadillac received a secret summons to appear before the domain-lord. This was their fifth meeting and, as before, he was conveyed in a sealed carriage-box to the palace at Ba-satana then conducted via the back stairs into a small chamber reserved for private audiences.

From the knowledge he had gained by tapping into the Iron Masters'

psyches, Cadillac knew their relationship was without precedent - and unlikely to be repeated.

Face-to-face meetings between slaves and domain-lords were just not possible, and these covert a.s.signations had proved to be the most convenient way of circ.u.mventing the restrictive protocols. To Cadillac, the fact that Min-Orota had gone to such lengths was a sign of the esteem in which he was held. His desire for 'standing' was so overwhelming, it never occurred to him that this esteem had a built-in time limit and had only been accorded for tactical reasons.

Seated between two of his closest advisers, Min-Orota - who had a good grasp of Basic - listened intently as Cadillac explained his plans with the aid of detailed sketches which Steve had helped him prepare. He then waited with bowed head while the domain-lord discussed the proposal with his advisers in j.a.panese - unaware that Cadillac had been quietly absorbing the language since his arrival in Ne-Issan and could understand everything they were saying.

When the three Iron Masters had concluded their deliberations, one of the advisers informed 'Brickman' that his proposal had been accepted.

The necessary authorisations would be issued and the materials he required would be delivered to the Heron Pool. It was, said the adviser, Lord Min-Orota's desire that he commence work without delay.

Bowing low, Cadillac humbly expressed his deep grat.i.tude - and silently blessed Mo-Town, the Great Sky-Mother.

As soon as the materials arrived, Cadillac and Steve set to work with the help of six Trackers who had been a.s.signed to what had been grandly called the 'power unit'. Cadillac had chosen the candidates personally, unaware that Steve had made sure Jodi and Kelso were among those selected. He'd done this by priming Jodi with the basic facts of solid rocketry, and had told her to share the data with Kelso. So when Cadillac lined up his workforce and asked if anyone knew anything about rocket propulsion systems, they 'were able to raise their arms and step forward with confidence.

And whenever they ran into a problem that couldn't be solved on the spot, Steve promised to thinkabout it overnight. The next morning, he always had the answer.

Cadillac, who was able to absorb this new information as fast as Steve acquired it, couldn't figure out how Steve always managed to keep one step ahead.

The reasons were complex but the answer was simple.

Cadillac was only able to gain access to certain parts of Steve's brain; he could not read his mind. As with the Iron Masters, the areas he could tap into were concerned with acquired knowledge: specialist education and training, language skills, behavioural patterns, social mores and information about people Steve had met - but not how he felt about them. It meant, for instance, that Cadillac knew about radio-knives but didn't know that Steve had one in his possession - and was putting it to good use.

From the moment Steve had begun to keep in regular touch with AMEXICO, Karlstrom had arranged for one of his highflying signals aircraft to orbit the Heron Pool daily, between 2200 and midnight.

Tucked away in his little shack, Steve was able to send a stream of queries to AMEXICO while Cadillac lay dead to the world, wiped out by another skinful of sake. After acknowledging the transmission with the instruction 'STAND BY/IMMEDIATE RESPONSE', the pilot automatically relayed Steve's messages at high speed to Rio Lobo, AMEXICO's headquarters in Houston/GC.