第85节
stones had shown him that after the old wordsmith went to the High
Ground the M'Calls would cease to exist. So what was the point of
returning? He might be without friends here, but without Mr Snow and
Clearwater he had no real friends anywhere. His association with the
cloud warrior was something else entirely. There were many things they
had in common, but it was not friendship that bound them together. It
was destiny.
Steve had been busy too. Eight pilots flying several rocket-propelled
sorties a day, seven days a week, consumed a lot of black powder. Once
used, the rocket tubes and launch boosters could be refilled, but the
whole operation had to be geared up to meet the demand. At Steve's
suggestion, Cadillac put in a call for reinforcements and a mixed bag
of Thais and Vietnamese women duly arrived from the local fireworks
factory to help out in the packing department.
Cadillac had also taken up another of Steve's suggestions and arranged
for Jodi Kazan and Dave Kelso to be moved from their billets in the
compound to his own grace-and-favour residence - now flanked by the new
access road. The move had been justified by the high-pressure training
programme. By living together, all three instructors had more time to
review their pupils' progress after flying had finished for the day,
and could coordinate any changes that needed to be made in the
schedule.
The arrangement also fitted in perfectly with Steve's forward
planning.
With Jodi and Kelso close at hand he could confer with them at length,
without falling foul of the other Tracker renegades on the workforce.
To them he was still an 'uppity Mute', and the fact that he was able to
fly and had been given the task of test-piloting the newly completed
aircraft had served to fuel their barely concealed resentment.
In the few moments when he hadn't been run off his feet, Steve had also
been considering Cadillac's future prospects. Instead of just keeping
an eye on the various processes, the Iron Masters were now lending a
hand. At a rough head-count, the Japs and assorted lower-ranking dinks
now outnumbered the original Tracker workforce by three to one. Was
this another stage of the eventual takeover Cadillac had hinted at
before he'd nose-dived into his sake? Steve had been waiting for the
Mute to say something, but he appeared totally unconcerned, and since
their original conversation had not uttered one word about the idea of
escaping.
Given Cadillac's character, it was not all that surprising. The Mute
preferred to clutch at any straw rather than face up to the possibility
that he was merely being used and could shortly become expendable. The
forthcoming show - now only days away - was to be his big moment, and
he didn't want anyone raining on his parade. Tough. Like it or not,
he was going over the wall.
And by the time good old Stevie had done his number, Cadillac would be
glad someone had booked him a seat on the flight out.
As rumoured, Min-Orota had issued an invitation to the Shogun.
Yoritomo had initially indicated his willingness to attend, and a
tastefully decorated private box was being prepared for him at the
front of the grandstand. The efforts of the craftsmen were in vain
for, that very morning, Cadillac had overheard the news that the Shogun
had decided to take a raincheck. The Consul-General Nakane Toh-Shiba
and the Herald Toshiro Hase-Gawa would be attending the ceremony on his
behalf. Wise move.
Yoritomo's letter to Lord Min-Orota did not explain the reason for his
change of heart - the Shogun was not required to justify any decision
he cared to take - but he reaffirmed his continuing support for the
project, about which he had received glowing reports. The letter
couched in the warmest terms the official court language allowed ended
with the fervently expressed hope that the day's ceremonies would be
crowned with success and that all those concerned would be justly
rewarded for their efforts. Lord Kiyo Min-Orota pondered at length
over the meaning of that last phrase. In the end he decided what
troubled him was not th