第71节
Both men looked to be in their mid-twenties. They were dressed in a
mixture of skins and the remnants of standard-issue red, brown and
black combat fatigues.
Both were unshaven; one had a long, straggly mustache. If they were
mexicans then their disguise was perfect. They were ragged, gaunt and
weather-beaten, and their eyes were filled with weary defiance. The
kind of look you'd expect to get from someone who's gone through seven
kinds of hell to stay alive yet won't give up - even though he knows
he's losing.
The breaker with the mustache faced up to Blue-Thunder. 'What can I do
for you, sky-brother?"
The paramount warrior squared his shoulders and folded his arms. He
was big but nowhere near as ugly or as fearsome as his predecessor,
Motor-Head. 'I am Blue-Thunder, of the Clan M'Call from the bloodline
of the She-Kargo, greatest among the Plainfolk."
Mustachio exchanged a glance with his companion, then inclined his head
courteously. 'I have heard of the M'Call and know the truth of your
words. It is also said that your people are friends to the
redskins."
'We are friends to those who wish us well but not to strangers who take
meat from our turf." Blue-Thunder snapped his fingers. One of the six
Bears stepped forward and tossed the severed head of the fast-foot down
by the smoking arrow. Blue-Thunder held up the tell-tale hollow-point
round. 'Can you say in truth that this was not thrown by your long
sharp iron?"
The two breakers eyed one another, then the second who was relatively
clean shaven, with long corn-coloured hair held down by a camouflage
sweat-band continued the exchange. 'It is said that the M'Calls are
mighty hunters and that their turf is heavy with meat. Can not the
greatest among the Plainfolk share these riches with their sky-brothers
who have nothing? Would you' let us die with empty stomachs while the
death-birds eat their fill?"
Blue-Thunder paused, momentarily lost for words and visibly perplexed
by this robust and cogent response.
Finally he said, 'The M'Calls are as generous as they are brave. But a
gift should not be taken before it is given.
This is the way of the coyote and the long-tails who come like thieves
in the night."
Corn-Hair turned the insult aside. 'The greatest of the Plainfolk
speaks with the tongue of truth. We are less than the coyote and the
long-tails. We have no turf, we have no clan. We drift, like
cloud-shadows, outcasts who know only shame and hunger. Yet we
breathe, we are of the world and would be brothers with all those who
live under the sky. But we are not afraid to die. And it is because
of this we have the courage to seek justice from the strong."
Top that, thought Steve, momentarily forgetting which side he was
supposed to be on.
Blue-Thunder gestured impatiently. Mutes loved these formal exchanges
but this one was not leading in the desired direction. Worse, he was
in danger of losing the argument. 'You seek food and you seek
justice.
The M'Calls have the power to grant both these things but you are
many."
Mustachio swept his eyes over the warriors spaced around the rim of the
draw. 'Not as many as you."
'These things must be spoken of,' insisted Blue-Thunder.
'Gather your people. Let us pass the pipe and make trade." He reached
into one of his waist pouches and produced one of the slim compressed
air bottles that powered the Tracker air rifle. He offered it to
Corn-Hair. 'Take it. We have more. And also many iron pebbles."
Corn-Hair weighed the bottle in his palm. An experienced Tracker
could tell by the feel of it roughly how much it contained. He passed
it to his coll.eague.
'Half-full..."
'Yeah, I'd say that was about right." Mustachio looked up at
Blue-Thunder. 'What d'you want in exchange?"
The big Mute smiled and spread his palms. 'Why don't we sit down and
talk about it?"
The breakers got the message. 'We'll get the others,' said
Corn-Hair.
Blue-Thunder gripped Steve's arm and pushed him forward. 'Go with
them."
The two breakers started back towards the lake with Steve close behind
them. When they'd gone about five yards, he began to whistle softly