The Amtrak Wars - Ironmaster Part 86

Since their j.a.p contact man had not been present during the dress rehearsals, Steve decided to put the disguise to the test. After setting up Cadillac in another room, he engaged the j.a.p in conversation as he was returning from one of his frequent sorties. A few minutes later, a shrill j.a.panese voice emanated from the adjoining room, demanding some service. When the unsuspecting j.a.p rushed to the door and found Cadillac sitting in solitary splendour, he was so taken aback by the masked figure's imperious bearing and immaculate diction, he instinctively bowed and started to apologise before he cottoned on.

Fortunately, he had a sense of humour. What was even better, it meant they were in with a chance.

Steve already had a Mute ident.i.ty, but it was exchanged for a new one.

Sets of worn clothes, slave-tags and 'yellow cards' were distributed to Jodi, Kelso and Clearwater; travel papers and money were provided for 'Yoko Mi- * s.h.i.+ma'. Their slave papers and toll-gate stamps purported to show they had been purchased on behalf of the courtesan at Fin, where there were regular small-scale auctions as well as the big one in late spring following the annual western, expedition of the wheelboats.

Slaves were a disposable a.s.set; a medium of exchange that was more secure than carrying cash or banknotes which could be stolen by the thieves and vagabonds who preyed on unwary travellers. Indeed, some enterprising merchants who had made a close study of the seasonal and regional fluctuations in the labour market had ama.s.sed considerable fortunes by buying up slaves and slipping them to wherever there was a quick profit to be made.

Why feed slaves through the winter in Mali-ina and Nofo-skosha, where the ground could not be worked, when they could labour fruitfully on plantations in the warmer climes of Fyah-jina and Karorina?

Side-Winder took charge of Steve and the other 'Mutes' as they came aboard the wheelboat, and shepherded them down into the gloomy bow section of the lower through-deck reserved for the transport of slaves.

Cadillac's carriage-box was taken to the door of the cabin that had been booked in the name of Yoko Mi-s.h.i.+ma and he did not meet up with the others until they all disembarked at Bu-faro.

The big mexican remained his usual taciturn self, and only related to them in his official capacity as Mute overseer. He did not treat them any differently from any of the other slaves on board, and because of the lumps on his forehead, Jodi and Kelso a.s.sumed he was a genuine Mute. Clearwater appeared to share their opinion, but Steve was not sure what she really thought.

Maybe the Plainfolk had other, more subtle, ways of recognising their own kind.

With her help, Steve had concocted Mute names and brief cover-stories for Jodi and Kelso to use in case any of their fellow-travellers wanted to know where they came from. He himself had adopted Cadillac's ident.i.ty.

Why not? It was a fair swap and, best of all, he didn't have to make anything up. Small parties of Plainfolk Mutes came and went, but they were the only ones riding the water all the way to Bu-faro. As it happened, there was very little interchange between groups even when the deck was crowded. Most Mutes became sullen and withdrawn when being transported over water, so their own silence was not viewed as suspicious.

Steve had daily contact with the big mexican, but did not tell the others what the real connection was, and he did not tell Side-Winder what he had learned about AMEXICO's links with the anonymous undercover organisation that Skull-Face worked for. Or that he had been named as one of the intermediaries.

In the short time that had elapsed since joining AMEXICO, Steve had learned that operatives did not probe into the details of each other's missions. You didn't ask questions and you didn't give anything away without clearance from the Operations Control Centre at Rio Lobo.

Side-Winder did not even enquire how he and his friends had reached Ari-bani. As far as he was concerned, that was Steve's business - as he had made clear when Steve had attempted to speak about their escape from the Heron Pool. His job, said the big mex, was to oversee their safe pa.s.sage to Bu-faro - and from there to the Big Open. Apart from that, he didn't want to know.

Unable to see anything but sky through a small latticed hatch-cover in the deck above, Steve spent the greater part of the trip sitting close to Clearwater. Jodi and Kelso had found themselves a niche between some bales a few yards away. It must be a strange experience for them, thought Steve. Both had previously been openly contemptuous of Mutes.

Now here they were, clothed in the coloured skin that was the mark of their mortal enemies, and, for the moment at least, their lives depended on how well they could act the part.

From the looks they had given him during the colouring of their skins, it was clear they were aware of the irony of the situation. It had forced them to reconsider their own comforting beliefs and prejudices.

Not an easy thing to do after a lifetime of relentless indoctrination as Steve had discovered for himself.

The existence of clear-skinned Mutes had been their first big surprise.

The fact that someone with Cadillac's skills was actually a Mute had been even more unsettling - and Clearwater had knocked them sideways.

The power she had unleashed against the Iron Masters had left them bewildered and more than a little uneasy - a reaction that led to the awkward silences between them.

Steve understood this problem too. He had felt the same way when he had witnessed her powers as a summoner for the first time. Jodi and Kelso found it hard to reconcile the vengeful, almost superhuman figure who had held the Iron Masters at bay while they worked frantically to load the rocket trays, with the young, slim-bodied, blue-eyed girl who nestled against Steve's shoulder.

But they did not know her as he did. They did not know the depth of feeling she could inspire, nor the warmth of her response. They saw only a death-machine who, for the moment, had dropped into neutral gear. They did not know she was merely a channel through which the power of Talisman entered the world.

Clearwater had been drained, physically and emotionally, by the ferocious nature of the forces that had poured through her. The enforced delay before boarding the wheelboat had given her a chance to rest and recoup her energies, but she remained quiet and subdued.

Steve put an arm round her shoulder and drew her close. 'You pleased to be going home?"

She settled against him, her forehead touching his cheek. 'I am happy to be with you."

'That's not a real answer. What about your clan sisters and brothers?

And Mr Snow."

'They are not forgotten. But it is hard to think beyond this moment.

When we are together, the world ends with you and I."

'Yeah,' murmured Steve. 'I've felt that too."

But not now. Decision time was coming up fast... 'When will this journey end?"

'All I can tell you is that it takes about a day and a half to reach Bu-faro. That's on one of the lakes your people call "the Great River". Once we get across that, we'll be in Plainfolk territory with a long walk ahead of us." The prospect caused him to knead the wound in his thigh.

Well done, Stevie. What a brilliant piece of timing that was.

Clearwater straightened up a little, so that she could see the whole of his face. 'The man who met us on landing, the others who brought us to the wheelboat. What do you know of them? Who are they?"

'Friends,' said Steve.

'How can that be? They are Iron Masters."

'So?"

'And the Mute, who watches over us, but who is not of the Plainfolk.

Is he a friend too?"

Steve took hold of her hands and gripped them tightly.

'Now listen! It doesn't matter who he is, or who they are!

I'm the only friend you need!" He dropped his voice. 'I promised Mr Snow I would bring you both back safe and sound. To get this far I've had to lie and cheat and kill and I'm ready to do it all over again!'

'And I have killed for you,' she whispered. 'Many times over. Why will you not tell me the -' 'Don't ask me what the truth is! I don't know what the word means any more! This world is a mirage conjured out of s.h.i.+fting sand! The only thing that is real for me is the power, the feeling - or whatever it is that binds us together. Maybe it's called "love", or maybe there's another word for it that you and I don't know about.

What I do know is, it will never change."

Clearwater gave him a long, searching look and then, with a wistful sigh that seemed to imply she knew something he didn't, she said: 'That is true, cloud warrior. The power of love cannot be destroyed. But perhaps the world will change us..."

It was fortunate that they chose to journey disguised as Mutes and not as captive Trackers. At the frequent cargo and pa.s.senger halts along the ca.n.a.l, SideWinder saw soldiers on the quayside and heard their officers demanding to know from the captain if he was transporting any long-dogs. On several occasions, the wheelboat was boarded by port officials and soldiers who examined the cargo manifest and pa.s.senger list, then proceeded to inspect the contents of the through-decks.

Steve and the others had their slave-tags and "yellow cards" examined, and lanterns were used to pry into dark corners where a stowaway might be lurking. Even Cadillac's cabin was entered. No one had warned him

this might happen, but the Mute did not lose his cool. He had begun to enjoy the respectful treatment accorded to 'Yoko Mi-s.h.i.+ma' and was playing the part to perfection - right down to the fluttering fan. The officer's polite enquiries brought equally polite replies in the courtly language and accents of the n.o.bility. No one suspected that the person behind the mask was not the genuine article, and his papers were never examined.