The Amtrak Wars - Ironmaster Part 70

'Pitch-black."

'Go on..."

'After we'd gone a short distance - a hundred yards or so - he suddenly turned around and hit me - hard." Steve turned his head to one side.

'Just under my left ear. Must have knocked me clean out. When I came to he was kneeling over me, ma.s.saging my neck."

'So you have no idea how long you were unconscious?"

'No."

'Never mind. What you have said may help us solve a mystery. Now - I wonder if you can explain something else that I find quite baffling how was the male Mute able to learn to speak our language without being taught - and how was the female able to influence the actions of the Consul-General?"

'They are what the Plainfolk call "gifted" individuals.

They have certain powers. I don't know how it works; no one does. But I do know they can do extraordinary things. Most people dismiss the stories they hear about "Mute magic". But there/s such a thing. I've been there when the forces have been released. It's awesome."

Skull-Face accepted this with a thoughtful nod. 'Are there many of these "gifted" gra.s.s-monkeys?"

'No. Fortunately, they are extremely rare. My experience is limited to one Plainfolk clan, but it appears that the only Mutes who possess these ... special abilities, are smooth-boned and clear-skinned." It wasn't strictly true, but if challenged he could always plead ignorance. 'What we in the Federation call super-straights."

'Because they look exactly like you..."

'They resemble us, but inside they're totally different.

Their society, their whole belief system is totally alien to ours.

That's what makes them so dangerous."

'So why not just kill them? Why are these two so important to your masters?"

'Our world is different from yours,' replied Steve. 'We do not fear the Dark Light. It is the source of our' strength. Its power nourishes our world like the blood that runs through our veins. We use it to create special instruments and processes that enable us to examine the smallest particles of matter - the building blocks which, when combined in the correct sequence, create human beings and everything in the world around us."

Steve was glad he had listened to his kin-sister's account of her Basic Genetics course. 'By examining the const.i.tuent parts of these two individuals, we can discover the rogue element that makes them different and find ways to counteract it."

Skull-Face did not pursue the matter further. 'Let's get back to the escape plan. What was to happen once you had a.s.sumed your various disguises?"

'Yeah, well . . . that's where the whole thing fell to pieces. It appears that courtesans only travel in sealed carriage-boxes that are either carried or wheeled by porters. Not Mutes. Clearwater was confident she could get the money we needed from the Consul-General, but not the ID papers, travel pa.s.ses and neck-tags."

'I'm glad to hear it,' replied Skull-Face.

'And there was also the problem of the arm-stamps that slaves collect at the various control points they pa.s.s through."

Skull-Face bared his teeth again. 'Now you know it's not just a case of bureaucracy gone mad. It's to help keep tabs on people like you."

He reached into the saddlebags that lay to his left and produced what, when unfolded, turned out to be a beautifully made writing box.

Pulling a moistened brush from a tube, he charged it with ink from a solid palette and wrote an indecipherable message with swift, flowing strokes. He then cleaned the brush, and put it back in its container.

'Okay. There's not much time left, but we are going to help you with your travel arrangements - a.s.suming, of course, that you manage to escape from the Heron Pool.

A map will be delivered to your shack in the next couple of days. We will put it in the same place you have been hiding your radio-knife.

The map will guide you to a point near the east bank of the Uda-sona.

The field where you are to land will be marked with a hollow white square. You will be met by one of our people."

Skull-Face checked the sheet of paper to see if the ink was dry, then folded it into a small square and laid it in front of Steve. 'Give this to your j.a.panese-speaking friend. It tells him what words our man will use to introduce himself and what he must say in return. Once you've identified yourselves, you can converse in Basic.

He will give you the necessary papers and tags for four Mute slaves and the courtesan Yoko Mi-Shima. Plus boat tickets and some money for the voyage. * 'The "lady" will be provided with a carriage-box and two serving women. When you are ready to travel, porters will be hired to take the box down to the ferry.

Once across the river, they'll deliver it to the dockside.

We will alert Side-Winder to expect you to board at All-bani - though I imagine you will be in contact with him yourself. Once you're on the wheelboat it should be plain sailing as far as Bu-faro. After that, the ball's in your court."

It all seemed too good to be true. If his arms and shoulders hadn't been wracked with agonising cramp, he'd have been tempted to loose the Trail-Blazer's rebel yell. He did his best to conceal the pain, but his voice gave him away. 'I - I don't know what to - say!" 'You don't have to say anything,' replied Skull-Face, unmoved by Steve's growing distress. He closed the writing box with slow, deliberate movements and put it away. 'In this case, actions speak louder than words. If you don't deliver your end of the deal, you won't be leaving on a boat - or any other way. Comprendo?"

'Perfectly!" gasped Steve.

'Good." Skull-Face uncrossed his legs, picked up the curved dagger and moved towards Steve on his knees.

Steve's heart missed a beat. The point of the blade was aimed dangerously low but, at the last minute, Skull-Face lifted it level with his navel and cut through the cord stretched between neck and groin. The j.a.p then' got to his feet and stood back as the two guards untied Steve's arms.

'Now get dressed."

Steve prised loose the cord that had been biting into his p.e.n.i.s and s.c.r.o.t.u.m and gained some much needed relief. Oh, boy! As he started to pull on his clothes he found that his arms were painfully stiff. His fingers wouldn't grip properly. Halfway through he had to stop and ma.s.sage his arms to restore the circulation. There was nothing he could do about the damage downstairs except hope the pain would go away. Pulling the sash tight round his waist, he stooped down and pocketed the folded piece of paper containing the vital pa.s.swords.

Skull-Face doused the lantern and exited from the tent. He was waiting outside as Steve ducked through the flap in between the two guards.

Now that he was up on his feet and out of immediate danger, the three j.a.ps looked a lot less daunting. After he'd stretched his spine and filled his lungs with night air, Steve found he was half a head taller than the biggest of the two guards.

Skull-Face, his chief tormentor, now looked as if he was standing in a hole. No wonder they'd kept him bent almost double.

'That shelf inside your shack..."

'Yes?"

'If you find two small stones on it - one black, one white - it means that everything is in place at the other end."

'Got it."

Skull-Face walked with him to the edge of the trail that ran through the pines. Behind and below them, Steve caught a glimpse of the lake as the half-moon found a gap in the clouds and brushed its dark surface with a fleeting coat of silver. They had only gone a few yards, but the black tent was now invisible.

The j.a.p turned to face him. 'Will you be able to find your way back from here?"

Steve bowed politely. 'Yes, sire. No problem."

'Good. One last thing. As you've no doubt guessed, in return for services rendered, we have also obtained a number of bugging devices from your people. Just out of interest, was jacking up that female Mute part of your a.s.signment?"