第83节

Toshiro nodded but didn't look round. He had made the flight in order

to pave the way for the Consul-General's one-way trip, but this would

also be his first and last ride on a flying-horse. Never again!

Never!

When the final rocket had been fired and they were gliding back towards

the field, Steve reached forward and nudged the Herald's shoulder.

'Can we talk?"

'What about?"

'I need that bundle of pink leaves."

Toshiro gave him a sideways glance. 'One thing at a time. I got you

transferred to the Heron Pool, didn't I?"

'Yeah, that's right... Thanks a lot." I don't believe it, thought

Steve. Our lives are in this guy's hands and he's full of shit!

They landed smoothly on the twin bamboo skids.

Wheels would have made things a lot easier, but the Iron Masters

weren't geared up to produce the kind they needed. It had been a major

headache finding cartwheels small and light enough for the launch

trollies.

'Don't stay away too long,' said Steve, as the ashen-faced Herald made

a shaky exit. 'Things are starting to move pretty fast around here."

'Don't worry,' replied Toshiro, with feeling. 'We'll meet soon enough,

you need have no fear of that."

What an insolent swine this outlander was! He had endured Brickman's

boorish behaviour in order to secure the death of the Consul-General.

It was an unsavoury alliance, but his wounded pride had been soothed by

the prospect of exacting an exquisite revenge once the fat degenerate

had been dispatched. But now the Shogun had decided that the long-dog

should be allowed to escape with his two captives, and that made

Brickman's brash confidence doubly irksome.

It was almost as if someone had told the mexican that the veiled

threats he, Toshiro, had uttered against him were not to be taken

seriously. Was it possible that the Chamberlain's office had become

involved in this affair?

Ieyasu's spidery tentacles were rumoured to extend into the farthest

corners of Ne-Issan. It was a chilling thought. The Herald prayed it

was not so, and cursed himself for having taken the course he had. But

there could be no turning back. Promises had been made, expectations

raised. He would have to aid Brickman. It was his duty to do so. But

he would keep the painted gutter-hound on tenterhooks for as long as

possible.

Steve kept his eyes down as Toshiro squared his shoulders and swaggered

back to his friends. It would be courting disaster to rely on any

offers made by the Jap to aid their escape. Or to deliver

Clearwater.

She would have to get to the Heron Pool the same way she had secured

his own transfer - by getting inside the Consul-General's head.

When the VIPs had been bowed out of the compound, Cadillac told Steve

what had been decided. The conversion of the twelve existing and

semi-completed airframes into dual-control two-seaters was to be given

top priority. Twenty-four samurai would be sent to the Heron Pool for

flight-aptitude tests. The twelve best candidates were to be given

gliding instruction. After going solo, the top six pupils from this

group were to be given advanced training on the rocket-powered

version.

When they had reached the required level of competence, they would

display their flying skills before the domain-lords Min-Orota and

Yama-Shita, the chief members of their households and - it was hoped

the Shogun himself.

'Did they give you a date?"

'Yes. A month from now. If they leave it any later, the Shogun won't

be around. He spends the summer on a big island off the coast of

Ro-diren, then moves south during the Yellowing."

Steve nodded thoughtfully. Cadillac's use of the Mute term for autumn

prompted memories of his brief spell with the M'Calls - and the fact

that time was passing.

'The three of