第61节

eve, 'I thought the Mutes and you

guys left each other alone."

'That's right. Most of the time they do. But not when the wheel-boats

come."

'The wheel-boats?" Steve's interest quickened. He tried to keep his

tone casual. 'Oh, yeah, I heard about them last year. Something to do

with the Iron Masters whoever they are.

All I know is the Mutes trade food, skins and stuff in return for their

crossbows. What they call "long sharp iron"."

Kelso nodded. 'They also trade us."

'To the Iron Masters? What for?"

Kelso exploded. 'I don't know what for! They're your friends - why

don't you ask 'em?! Dick head..."

Steve ignored Kelso's abusive language and looked at them both with

evident concern. 'Columbus ... the Fire-Pits of BethLem..."

It was Kelso's turn to look puzzled.

'That's what the Mutes call the place where the Iron Masters come

from."

'Terrific. Sounds great. I can't wait to get there."

"Listen,' said Steve, 'I know you guys don't trust me but if there is

anyway to help you I will."

Kelso responded with a sneering laugh.

'You can help me right now,' said his companion.

'llnzip my pants. I'm dying for a leak."

Steve recognised him as one of the two renegades who had tied him to

the post. He stood up and stepped back.

'You left me zipped up for two days, compadre. Call me the day after

tomorrow."

Medicine-Hat, who had done such a good salvage job on Jodi was a

skilful doctor who, like many of the captured renegades, had gone

adrift during a TrailBlazer operation. In his case, it had been three

years ago, during the last fire-sweeps that had culminated in the

'pacification' of the pre-Holocaust state of Oklahoma one of the three

New Territories.

Sent out from The Fighting Kentuckian with a combat-squad to effect the

rescue of some badly-wounded Trackers, Medicine-Hat and his companions

had found their line of retreat cut off. The terrain had prevented the

wagon-train from reaching them, bad weather had denied them air support

and their radio had malfunctioned. When he and the surviving Trackers

had finally reached the original rendezvous point the wagon-train had

left the area, having posted them as 'missing, believe killed in

action'.

As was usually the case, several of the survivors had become

disorientated, sinking into a catatonic state from which they had not

recovered. Medicine-Hat was one of three who, despite their line-man

grading, had managed to live through that first critical two-week

period. He could not explain why he had been spared but there was,

apparently, a simple rule. If your group numbered four or less and you

were still on your feet and moving after three days of being out of

contact with the wagon-train it meant you probably wouldn't go

'ground-sick'. Whether or not you regarded this discovery as good news

was another matter entirely.

As the trek continued, Steve had an opportunity to talk with

Medicine-Hat and Jodi about what it was like to live as renegades, or

breakers, as they preferred to call themselves. Medicine-Hat explained

that not every breaker had gone adrift. Some were straightforward

deserters - mainly from way-stations. Usually they were cee-bees

seeking to avoid punishment. Sometimes it was a low-level code

violation but there were other, more serious cases of indiscipline,

assault on an Exec, blackjacking, smoking grass, or, worse still,

cowardice in the face of the enemy. There was also the catchall charge

of 'operational failure'. Rather than face a Board of Assessors and

possible execution for dereliction of duty, many otherwise loyal and

competent TrailBlazers had chosen to go over the side.

To hold such unruly and disparate elements together demanded an iron

first allied to a keen intelligence.

Unfortunately, said Medicine-Hat, there weren't enough honchos with

Malone's mixture of toughness and vision.

As a consequence, many groups of breakers perished through fratricidal

disputes over leadership and the consequent failure to agree on a

coherent strategy that would ensure their survival. When pressed by

Steve to say whether the renegades were numbered in hundreds or

thousands, All Medicine-Hat would say was - 'Ask the First Family'.