The Amtrak Wars - Ironmaster Part 90

He raised the flask to Cadillac. 'All the more for you and me I' He knocked some back and held the flask out to the two Mutes. 'Okay, who wants it?"

Clearwater made an ineffectual grab, but Cadillac got in first. He put the flask to his lips, tipped his head back and started to pour it down his throat.

'Hey, Hey! Easy, easy!" cried the mex. 'Leave some for blue eyes and me!" Cadillac sagged forward drunkenly and let Clearwater take the flask from his hands. She drank a little more and giggled again. 'It makes the ground move!" 'No,' said Side-Winder. 'It's not the sake.

We were a long time on the water. It's the motion of the boat that makes it seem as if the ground's moving. You have some more of that and you won't feel a thing."

Three minutes later, both Mutes were out cold.

Side-Winder emptied the last few drops of sake down his throat, then looked up at Steve. 'See? Told you it wouldn't be a problem." He capped the empty flask.

'These monkeys can't take this stuff." The mexican rose and switched on his hand-set. 'This is Farm-Boy. Come in Sky-Bucket. Tell me how you read. Over."

There was a slight crackle of static, then: 'Five by five, Farm-Boy.

Sky-Bucket One and Two standing by.

Over."

'Roger, Sky-Bucket, you are clear to land. Tell Mother we have a full load."

'Wilco, Farm-Boy. We're on our way..."

Jodi was the first to spot them. She pointed out across the lake.

Steve and Kelso turned, searching for the two winged dots that quickly became two charcoal-grey Sky-Riders. Behind them, Side-Winder continued to exchange brief messages with the pilots.

The incoming planes flew a cautionary circuit of the headland, then turned across wind and made their final approach from the west, touching down within seconds of each other. The sky to the west was still a deep purple, but to the east a soft-edged wash of burnt orange was spreading along the horizon.

The two fat-bodied Sky-Riders taxied back down the mown gra.s.s strip owards them and parked alongside each other. To Steve, they were a familiar sight: he had had two flights as a pa.s.senger. First with Donna Lundkwist from the Pueblo way-station, and then with an anonymous MX pilot who had put him down in Nebraska.

The planes were second-generation aircraft built with totally new materials. They were equipped with enclosed c.o.c.kpits, augmented instrumentation, and all kinds of creature comforts. They had been a big surprise to Steve, making the Skyhawk - the long-serving workhorse of the Federation- look like something out of the stone age, and Cadillac's silken flying-horses look like a joke.

Yep. You had to hand it to the First Family. They were always one step ahead. Always had the answers...

Steve had briefed Jodi and Kelso on what to expect, but now that the aircraft were here, the urge to take a closer look was irresistible.

He ran over with them, leaving Side-Winder by the fire with the two semiconscious Mutes.

The mexican dropped some more ice into the mess pot.

Cadillac was snoring drunkenly. Clearwater was making feeble efforts to rouse herself, but did not seem to be able to get her head off the ground for more than a few seconds at a time.

The two pilots removed their black-visored crash-helmets, stowed them on top of the instrumental panel, then opened up their front-hinged perspex canopies and climbed out. The tight-lipped guy who had flown Steve to Nebraska had remained hidden and anonymous. This pair even had woven name-tags. BLACKWELL, B. and RITCHIE, K. - the human face of PMEXICO.

The three Trackers exchanged greetings with the two pilots. Both men ran a jaundiced eye over their painted faces as they shook hands.

'Protective colouring,' explained Steve.

'Glad to hear it,' said BLACKWELL, B. He glanced towards the three figures over by the fire-can. 'For a minute there, I thought we'd dropped in on a Mute convention."

Jodi checked out the c.o.c.kpit. 'Hey, Dave! Take a look at this set up!

This is amazing!" 'Is it okay if I sit in the driving seat?" asked Steve. 'Just to see how it feels?"

'Sure. Go ahead."

As Steve climbed into the c.o.c.kpit of the nearest plane, Kelso held his handshake with RITCHIE, K. and introduced himself. 'Kelso, Cla.s.s of '??. Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Baby-faced RITCHIE, K. smiled. 'I doubt it. That was before my time."

He disengaged and turned away as Side-Winder came forward to greet them.

'Got some hot Java for you guys."

'Great,' said BLACKWELL, B. 'We haven't had anything since we left GC.".

Steve exchanged looks with Jodi and Kelso and closed the c.o.c.kpit canopy. The pilot had left a pair of black leather gloves inside his crash-helmet. Steve pulled them on. He looked up and saw the two Trackers walk round the nose towards the second plane, a move which took them out of sight of anyone standing by the fire.

The two pilots stood over Side-Winder as he broke open the sachets, poured boiling water into two cups, then handed them over. The foam cups came complete with a plastic swizzle.

BLACKWELL, B. stirred slowly as he gazed down at Clearwater and Cadillac. 'They look happy."

'Happiest they'll ever be,' said SideWinder.

RITCHIE, K. snapped his swizzle in half and swallowed some hot Java.

'Is it okay to leave 'em there while we refuel?"

'Sure. ' 'How about the two breakers?"

'No problem. Hang-Fire's told 'em they're gonna be heroes."

Side-Winder glanced towards the Sky-Riders and leapt to his feet.

'What the f.u.c.k?"

The two pilots spun round and swore savagely at the sight that met their eyes. The c.o.c.kpit canopy of the first Sky-Rider was closed - and filled with white smoke.

They threw their cups of Java down and raced across the gra.s.s. When they reached the aircraft, they saw a figure inside hammering against the canopy, trying to get out.

RITCHIE, K. grasped the starboard release handle and pulled. 's.h.i.t!

It's jammed! Grab the one on the other side!" BLACKWELL, B. sprinted round the nose of the aircraft as Jodi and Kelso appeared from the far side of the second aircraft.

"Christo!" screamed Jodi. 'It's on fire!" 'Stay out of the way!"

yelled BLACKWELL, B. He seized hold of the release handle. 'Okay, Ritchie, I got it! Heave!" The canopy flew open and the smoke billowed out, revealing a figure wearing a face-mask. Both pilots staggered backwards as the gas. .h.i.t them, clutching their chest and throat. Steve threw himself out of the c.o.c.kpit and disarmed RITCHIE, K. Kelso, who now wore a face-mask, took care of BLACKWELL, B.