第23节

mental attitude, the answer has to be "No". If we ignore the small

number of "yearlings", the physical differences are irreconcilable,

their way of life totally alien. But if we apply different

criteriastrength, stamina, manual dexterity, educability and - it has

to be said - latent intelligence, then my answer would have to be "Not

yet"."

The President compressed her lips into a thin line.

Assessor 7, one of the other women examinees leaned forward. 'Would

you care to explain that last remark?"

'Ma'am, I am not disputing the wisdom of the Manual.

But if I have understood it correctly, the information it contains on

this subject was compiled as a result of operations against the

southern Mutes. I have only observed them as captives in work-camps

and chain-gangs.

The Plainfolk are still independent. An undefeated warrior race. And,

from what the M'Call wordsmiths told me, they have every intention of

remaining so. Our first advances into their territory have shown them

what they are up against. We should not underrate them. They have the

capacity to adapt, to acquire higher craft skills - even technology."

Assessor 1 snorted drily. 'Technology! Where the heck are they gonna

learn that - from us?"

Steve turned to his left. 'Well sir, that hadn't occurred to me but

now that you mention it, maybe it's something we ought to be thinking

about."

Assessor 3 exploded. 'Have you gone soft in the head?!

Those gammy-assed shit-balls can't even tell the difference between a

pick and shovel unless you whup it into 'em!" Steve fought down a

sudden urge to let this overbearing turd have it right between the

eyes. To tell him and his nit-picking friends that underneath the

swirling patterns of black and brown, Cadillac's body was as

unblemished as his own; that with short hair and dressed in a

jump-suit, the eighteen-year-old Mute could easily pass as a Tracker;

that although uneducated by Federation standards the young warrior had

an uncanny ability to learn at lightning speed - and was, in many ways,

smarter than most graduates from the Flight Academy. Steve bit his lip

and said nothing, mindful of his promise to Mr Snow never to tell his

masters of Cadillac's true physical state, or reveal the existence of

Clearwater.

He turned on a winning smile for Assessor 3. 'I have to admit there

were a few who were kinda slow." Yes, sir ?. . this was definitely

not the moment to mention that it was the M'Call clan who had provided

tools and assistance in building Blue-Bird - the aircraft in which he

had made his escape. That would have led to some awkward questions

which, in turn, might have forced him into revealing that, in exchange,

he had taught Cadillac to fly. Despite the honeyed assurances of the

dark-haired President, that particular piece of news would really have

caused the shit to hit the fan.

'Steven,' said the President. 'I'm intrigued. Why should we teach the

Mutes anything?"

'Don't get me wrong, ma'am. I'm not questioning Federation policy '

'I'm glad to hear it."

'It's just that - having seen what the Plainfolk are capable of - it

occurred to me that if they're going to learn anything at all, we

should control the process rather than someone else. Like the Iron

Masters. If these mystery men are trading crossbows, you can be sure

they've armed themselves with something better to give them the edge.

They have Plainfolk working for them already, production facilities and

water-borne transportao tion." He spread his palms. 'Who knows what

else they might have up their sleeves?"

Fran smiled. This young man was fast - and cute.

'Don't worry about the Iron Masters, Steven. When the time is right,

they'll be taken care of. And forget about improving the Mutes. Let

them live out what remains of their grubby little lives. The

overground is ours by right.

It's been promised to us by the First Family. We don't have to share

the blue-sky