第94节

and forward, left fist planted high on the hip, right arm extended

level with the shoulder to form a precise right-angle with their

pike-shafts. The drums and trumpets grew louder and now Steve could

hear other instruments too.

Come on, Clearwater. Where the eff-eff are you?

From the various conversations Cadillac had listened in on, Steve knew

there would be a lot of ceremonial bowing and scraping before the first

flight of the day, but he wanted Clearwater to get there to keep

Cadillac in line.

The Mute had already taken two stiff shots of sake to steady his nerves

or drown his sorrows - or both. Steve had taken the bottle away from

him and threatened that all three of them would beat him over the head

with it if he touched another drop.

The previous night, while Steve had been risking his ass putting the

gizmos aboard the planes, Cadillac had drunk himself under the table.

Just the kind of partner a guy needed at a time like this - 100 per

cent unreliable.

His rejection by the Iron Masters had hit the Mute hard, but the lesson

still hadn't sunk home. Given the chance, he could still renege at the

last minute and go crawling back to them. Steve had told Jodi and

Kelso not to let him out of their sight. If and when Clearwater

arrived, she would put some iron in his soul. That was why Mr Snow had

sent her along. Crazy old coot. All this blood, sweat and tears - and

what for? A hundred stone-age rifles that were no fucking use to

anybody except the Iron Masters who were using them to strengthen their

trading position.

The thought of the rifles caused Steve to cross over to the floor

storage units where he had hidden the handguns and the remainder of the

grenades AMEXICO had dropped into the lake. The units were set along

the edge of the raised floor section and were, in effect, boxes with

hinged lids that matched the surrounding wood planking. They were

covered, like the rest of the floor, with the ubiquitous tatarni.

Sliding one of the mats aside, Steve opened the centre trapdoor and

lifted the corner of the folded quilt that lay inside. Beneath the

quilt were four multi-shot air pistols with several spare magazines and

pressurised cartridges, fragmentation grenades, smoke, phosphorus and

riot-gas.

Steve and Jodi hadn't encountered this last type of grenade before but,

according to Kelso, one sniff made you feel you'd been hit in the chest

by a charging buffalo.

It apparently attacked the nerves or muscles or whatever it was that

controlled the respiratory system, causing painful contractions of the

lungs and throat. By rendering you almost incapable of breathing, it

made you incapable of doing anything else. Depending on the degree of

dispersion, the victim was immobilised for an hour or more; prolonged

inhalation in a confined space could kill.

Smoke grenades didn't damage your health, the other grenades you could

at least try and duck away from, but these little horrors could sneak

up on you when you weren't looking - which was why AMEXICO had

thoughtfully included five face-masks with chemical air filters.

The fanfares and drumbeats grew louder still. Cadillac turned from the

window. 'Here they come . . ."

As he spoke, the door to the study slid open. The two house-women who

had shared the bathtub padded in with a curious stooping gait.

Stilling their fluttering hands, they bowed in Cadillac's direction.

'Ahh, you have, ahh, impah-tan visitah!" they stammered, and fell on

their knees as Toshiro Hase-Gawa strode into the room.

The sight of the armed and armoured samurai caused Cadillac, Jodi and

Kelso to go down on their knees.

Steve was already on his. He casually eased the trap-door back into

place and stood up. 'Nice of you to drop in." It was asking for

trouble, but he was so keyed up he was past caring.

The Herald's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.

'I hear t