It was a slow and painstaking process, with many of the frightened animals refusing to make their way up the slope, the Pilatans at the bottom of the incline forced to beat them to make them move from fear and pain. The resultant cries from the beasts did nothing to quell the fear among those still on board the boat.

 

 J.B. and Doc were among the last to start the ascent. They both stood at the bottom of the scree, the water of the incoming tide lapping at their ankles as the seaman deputed to scupper the last boat set its course and clambered down and into the calm waters as the craft headed for the graveyard that the rocks had become. They helped the man onto the drier land of the slope and, as he began to climb, they watched the boat crash into the side of the cliff.

 

 "That's it, then." Doc sighed. "No way back for any who may regret it, now."

 

 "No way back for us, either," the Armorer added. "And unless we move it, we'll risk being drowned in this damn tide."

 

 They began their ascent, some distance behind the others. Doc found the moss and slime hard going, his hands and feet scrabbling for holds, his lion's-head swordstick tucked into his belt. Once or twice he lost his grip completely and felt himself begin to slip and fall backward, but always J.B. was there to grab him and help him up again.

 

 By the time that both men had reached the summit, they were exhausted. Ryan and Dean were there to help them up over the edge.

 

 "Thanks for sending a rope down for us," J.B. panted.

 

 Ryan grinned. "They've used them all on the animals. Guess they didn't think you'd need them."

 

 "Great. I'll do the same for them sometime," J.B. gasped.

 

 Climbing to their feet, both men could see that the train of Pilatans and their animals were ready to begin their trek. At the head of the convoy were Markos and Sineta, with Mildred, Krysty and Jak waiting for them. They were facing the beginnings of the grasslands and Sineta looked back to where the four men were standing. She said something to Markos, who turned and beckoned to the four companions.

 

 "I guess they want us to take the head with them because we know the mainland," Ryan said wryly.

 

 "But, Dad, it's different here from elsewhere and we—"

 

 "I know," Ryan said quietly. "But you know what, Dean? They've got to discover that for themselves."

 

  

 

 Chapter Thirteen

 

  

 

 The caravan of Pilatu made its way across the terrain for two days. Progress was slow, slower than had originally been envisioned by Sineta as the wags had been ditched and many of the older Pilatans found it hard to keep pace on foot. There were horses in among the livestock, and the younger, fitter members of the tribe gave up their mounts to assist their elders. Sineta herself was one of the first to do this, followed by Markos. The companions, who had also been given mounts so that they could keep pace with the caravan leaders and also scout ahead, also gave up their seats, although Doc was incensed when Sineta insisted that he retain his mount, on account of his age.

 

 The area presented the weary caravan with no great threat. Rolling green hills led away from the rock peninsula where they had landed, forming a bland green barrier between themselves and the great lands beyond, the inclines making it impossible to see what lay over the crests of the hills.

 

 "Perhaps it will be better on the other side," Markos said to Ryan as they rode on the first day. "If it stretches like this for any great distance, then how can it be farmed? Where is the shelter?"

 

 "It'll be different, all right," the one-eyed man replied. "You don't know how different…but I'll be glad when we're beyond this."

 

 Ryan shivered as yet another cold gust swept along the hills. Certainly, this was hardly the most inspiring introduction to the mainland that the Pilatans could have wished. The hills were covered with a thin layer of topsoil that was enough to allow the sparse growth of grass and moss that softened underfoot but allowed for nothing else to take root. The rock beneath the soil was flat, so there were no outcrops to stop the winds from howling across the flat plain that rose in an incline to the crest.

 

 With the slow progress that they made on foot, it seemed as if they would never reach the crest to see what lay beyond. The Pilatans moved slowly, and even to reach the crest of the long, undulating hills meant trekking a greater distance than the length and breadth of the island they had left behind. The scale of the mainland was something they couldn't even imagine, let alone adjust to with ease. And with each passing hour that they walked, they grew more and more apprehensive about their undertaking. Was this land too big for them to assimilate? Would they be able to find somewhere that had the resource and reassurance of their home?

 

 It was something that the companions could do nothing to assuage. The vast plains of grass, rising upward, bespoke of a massive land movement at the time of skydark, which had stripped this long stretch of land and formed a new coastline that hid from view the land that lay beyond. Under their own steam, they would have made the distance in a day, and be able to view the area beyond for possible shelter before nightfall. But with the heavy caravan slowing them, it meant a night camping on the plains.

 

 As darkness fell, the temperature dropped to below zero, with the wind chill taking it down a few degrees more. Even with the temporary shelter they were able to rig from the crates and belongings they carried with them, it was still hard for the Pilatans to make anything in the way of warming conditions. It was hard for them to keep fires going in the teeth of the winds, as they had never had such conditions to contend with on the well sheltered island. The companions passing among them had to teach them how to shelter and nurture their fires.

 

 There were also complaints about water running low. Many of the older Pilatans were fearful that they wouldn't be able to find another supply before their own ran out. Jak rigged plastic sheeting they had brought with them to catch the dew, and also hunted out a small spring that he was able to detect by a slightly more verdant growth of grass and moss. It wasn't much, but it did help to alleviate fears, which may have been just as important as the actual production of water. For the caravan to proceed on the morrow, the Pilatans had all to be in the frame of mind to continue.

 

 "I know we are slow," Markos said to the companions as they gathered around their own small fire, "but we should—if we can continue even at this pace—attain the crest of the hill by nightfall tomorrow."

 

 "I hope so," Mildred replied. "Another night like this won't be good for the older and weaker people. We need to get off this plain."

 

 "I'm sure we will, and that we'll find better conditions," Sineta said with a confidence that Mildred couldn't share.

 

 "Don't place your hopes too highly," Mildred said carefully. "We don't know what's going to be on the far side of the hill. It may be good land or it may be little more than a dust bowl." She saw Sineta's face drop as she spoke, and continued rapidly, so that the woman wouldn't be too dispirited. "I'm not saying that it'll be a disaster, but you have to take in the fact that conditions change so quickly here. You always have to expect the unexpected, otherwise you won't be able to adapt and survive."

 

 Markos smiled grimly. "It seems that we have been in isolation too long, perhaps become complacent because of this."

 

 "It's not anyone's fault," Mildred said softly. "It's just going to be a lot to learn quickly. And you'll have to."

 

 AS DAWN BROKE, the Pilatans stirred to wakefulness and prepared to continue with little ceremony. There wasn't a single one of them who couldn't wait to crest the hill, no matter what may lay on the other side. The morning was dull and overcast, the wind chill seeming to cut straight through cloth and flesh, cold to the bone with every step. And the distance ahead, on an upward incline, was enough to suggest a good day's march. They broke to rest on three occasions, partly for the people and partly for the livestock, who were unused to walking such distances, and some of whom had the extra burden of the crates. On each break, many could barely wait to continue, preferring the relentless toil to sitting, waiting, in the biting cold.

 

 But finally they reached the crest of the hill. A short plateau stretched ahead, just enough to make a view of the land beyond difficult. The distant peaks of hills and mountains were all that could be seen, shrouded in the mist of clouds that lay low in the overcast skies.

 

 "Must drop down into one hell of a valley," J.B. remarked to Ryan as they trudged across the plateau.

 

 The one-eyed man agreed. "Problem is, what do we do if the drop is too steep to get down easily?"

 

 The Armorer glanced back at the caravan stretching out behind them and then forward to where Mildred walked with Markos and Sineta.

 

 "Dark night, how's Millie going to deal with that one?" he murmured.

 

 The same thoughts had also crossed Mildred's mind. Seeing the mist-enshrouded vista ahead, she had wondered what course of action could be taken if it proved impossible for the Pilatan caravan to descend on the other side of the hill. And, looking along the ridge that stretched on either side for as far as she could see, she had to admit that she had no ideas. She prayed that it wouldn't be necessary to try to come up with any.

 

 "Oh my sweet Lord—look at it, it's beautiful," Sineta breathed with a tone of awe in her words.

 

 Mildred snapped out of her reverie and took a few steps forward to where Sineta and Markos were viewing the land on the reverse of the plain. Stretched ahead of them were undulating forests and woodlands, with stretches of bare scrub between. In the far distance could be seen at least two villes, both dozens of miles apart.

 

 The view stretched for maybe eighty to ninety miles by her reckoning, and showed a fertile stretch of land with a population, probably sheltered by the arid plain they had just traveled across. There was opportunity for the Pilatans here, and proof that it could sustain a population…even, in fact, giving them populations to trade with.

 

 But would they have an easy access to this promised land? Looking down, which, she noticed, both Markos and Sineta had so far failed to do, she could see that there was a sharp incline toward the bottom of the valley, as the land had been pushed sharply up by earth movements. However, it wasn't so steep an incline that it would be impossible to traverse. Rather, it would require a deal of care. There were pathways that could be used, made by ridges in the rock. And along the way there was much vegetation that could be used for handholds. The livestock would be a little more difficult to manage, but even so…

 

 "Figure we can do this?" J.B. said in her ear, making her jump.

 

 "John, don't do that, for God's sake!"

 

 "Sorry." The Armorer grinned. "I didn't realize how deep in thought you were. But what do you reckon?"

 

 She shrugged. "It's not so bad."

 

 "For us and the fitter Pilatans, mebbe not," he cut in. "But what about the older ones and the animals?"

 

 "Yeah, I know. But what can we do? It's got to be done."

 

 AS THE PILATANS GATHERED on the edge of the plateau, they were all stunned by the scope and richness of the land that lay beneath. Too distracted, in many cases, to recognize the perils of the descent into the valley. Mildred had torn Markos and Sineta away from their admiring glances at the world below to discuss the descent. When she pointed out the only route, both had decided that the manner of their descent should be left in the more experienced hands of the companions. They were also of the opinion that the descent should begin quickly: partly because a delay would give the members of the caravan a chance to fret about their route, and partly because there were only a few hours until the light faded.

 

 While Markos, Sineta and Mildred organized the caravan into some kind of order in which to make the descent, Jak went ahead to scout out the best possible route. The albino covered the territory swiftly, moving with ease down the narrow paths and among the undergrowth. It was simplicity itself for him to cover the distance, but he was mindful of the mixed abilities of those who would follow in his wake. Picking the widest paths, and those with the best vegetation for handholds, he marked the twists and turns of the route with branches torn from the trees. By the time he had returned to the top of the ridge, the Pilatans were organized in order of descent and Mildred had gathered the companions to her.

 

 "Ryan, Jak, J.B.—you guys go down ahead of us and make relay points, so that there's help fairly close at hand for any that may need it," Mildred said. "Krysty and Dean—one of you go to the middle, the other to the bottom. Take these," she added, handing them medical supplies she had prepared during Jak's marking of the route. "That way we've got first aid to hand if it's needed along the way. I'll stay up here with Markos. Sineta's going to be one of the first down, and I want Doc to go with her. The last thing we want is for an accident to happen to the baron, so I'd appreciate you really keeping a close eye on her, Doc."

 

 "It shall be done. You have no need to ask," Doc said with a small bow.

 

 "One more thing," Ryan interjected. "I figure we're far enough away from any of those villes not to have trouble from them, but we've got no way of knowing what kind of wildlife is out there."

 

 "Keeping distance, but can smell it. Could be problem," Jak affirmed.

 

 "Okay," Mildred stated. "I'll make sure they know to keep their blasters ready and be triple-red."

 

 Ryan nodded, then looked at the darkening sky. "Good. Let's do it, then. I don't like the look of the clouds. The last thing we need is rain on top of the worsening light."

 

 Moving swiftly to get the process under way, the companions separated and moved into position while Mildred prepared the caravan. Doc and Sineta were the first to make the descent.

 

 "I find that the best thing to do is not to look too closely at the drop that beckons, but rather to concentrate assiduously on the path in front of you," Doc advised the baron as they began the descent.

 

 Taking a quick glance across the open lands to one side of her and the angle of descent, Sineta nodded. "I will take those as wise words, and well worth adherence," she said nervously.

 

 But the route Jak had selected was a good one, and on those few occasions when she felt herself beginning to slip, or her confidence did likewise, making her believe that she would tumble, the vegetation by her sides and the sure hand of Doc Tanner sustained her. They passed Jak, Ryan, Krysty and J.B. along the way without requiring help. When they had reached the bottom, the baron looked up at the crest of the hillside, where those following in her wake could be seen streaming down the paths.

 

 "I think, if we all have a guide as good as yourself, then we may make it unscathed," she murmured.

 

 "Why, thank you, madam," Doc demurred.

 

 The Pilatan progress down the side of the incline was erratic. There were times when the slower members of the tribe held up those that followed in their wake, but there were no casualties and little need for the companions who were stationed along the way. However, when the livestock were led down, things were slightly different. The herders who had led them across the plain, and who had been in charge of the animals on the flat island of Pilatu, found it difficult to keep the beasts in line. The sheep and pigs were terrified, but were so closely roped as to be unable to break. Horses, coming down singly, were nervous but able to keep their footing. The cattle, however, were another matter. Roped together, but of varying strengths, and with each one pulling against the others in fear, it was inevitable that at one point a rogue would try to make a break, risking pulling the entire herd off the path and tumbling them down the steep incline.

 

 It happened despite the best efforts of the herder at the front of the line, who darted around the fretting beasts, barely keeping a foothold himself, to try to calm the rogue steer. He grabbed at the yolk of the beast and heaved with all his strength to try to keep it on the track. The beast reared as far as its bounds would allow, the hoof catching the herder in the groin and causing him to double up in pain, losing his grip and falling off the path.

 

 Jak was the nearest, and it was as well, for the albino hunter was the best equipped to deal with the immediate problem. Clambering swiftly through the undergrowth, he stopped briefly to check that the fallen Pilatan herder was alive. The man had saved himself by grabbing at a laurel bush and was in agony but safe from falling further. He could be dealt with later. The most immediate problem was for Jak to calm the steer before it charged the whole herd off the path. If they hit uneven ground and more than one should stumble, there was every chance that they would hurtle themselves to their doom.

 

 The beast was still rearing, but had not as of yet made a strong break, the combined force of the stubborn cattle around it preventing the break it would wish. But its companions were becoming agitated and would soon try to get away from the disruption, which would only cause further confusion.

 

 Ignoring the rearing hooves of the steer, Jak ducked under so that he came up between the front of the agitated beast and the flicking tail and stamping hooves of the creature to its front. It didn't give the albino youth a lot of space in which to safely move, but he stoically ignored the beast to his rear and looked the rogue steer fully in the face. He could feel its hot breath, erratic and fetid, on his face. Its teeth were bared, and its eyes wild and glassy with fear.

 

 Smiling grimly to himself, Jak ducked to one side of the creature, his fingers probing the tough, corded muscle of its neck. He found the area he wanted and pressed hard, his fingers moving in a small circle until they found the exact spot. He pinched and the beast momentarily blacked out and stumbled before recovering, this time in a much more sedate mood.

 

 Jak moved among the other cattle, calming them, before leading them down the incline, stopping to send Krysty after the injured Pilatan herdsman.

 

 Once the cattle and the injured man had been recovered and taken to the base of the slope, it meant that the Pilatan caravan had reached their target in one piece. And just in time. The heavens opened in the deepening twilight.

 

 "Better find a place to camp, and quick," Mildred said to Markos and Sineta. "Let the livestock calm down and get some rest before we begin the real trek." And pray to God nothing else happened between now and then, she added to herself.

 

 THE PILATAN CAMP had been struck a few miles farther into the interior, using the shelter of a wooded area not unlike one of those found on their island. This had been Mildred's suggestion to Markos, which he had seized upon, understanding her point that it would be simple to set up sec patrols in an environment similar to the one they had recently left behind.

 

 A fire was set and camp was made while the sec boss deputed a sec patrol and sentry posts to be established at the four compass points, covering the community while they took a much needed rest.

 

 The forest gave them shelter and increased the ambient heat at ground level, making it less imperative to build a large fire. The smaller blaze was shielded to stop the glow illuminating the area and giving away their position.

 

 "It shouldn't matter too much," Markos told Sineta, "as the nearest ville's some good few miles away. But we're not sure what kind of predators may be lurking in the darkness. So a patrol and four compass point posts to check in with should keep us covered. I believe we may be able to rest easy tonight."

 

 "I wish I could believe that so easily," Krysty muttered to Ryan, keeping her voice low so that only the one-eyed man could hear.

 

 Ryan studied her. The redheaded woman's hair had flattened to her scalp and curled into her neck, giving her a worried look that echoed that which her mutie sense was telling her.

 

 "You know what it is?" he asked.

 

 "Could just be that Markos is a bit too over confident. They don't really know what it's like out there and he's making assumptions about the area just because it looks like the island."

 

 "Yeah, that's got me a little concerned," Ryan mused. "Figure we should mebbe give them a little hand."

 

 "I don't know if Markos will like that," Krysty commented.

 

 Ryan smiled. "Who says he has to know, unless it's really necessary?"

 

 The one-eyed man gathered his people from where they sat or lay around the camp. When they were together, he explained the situation as it stood. He continued. "The best thing for us to do is try to shadow the sentry posts and follow the patrol. Which won't be easy, 'cause they're not stupes, just not used to the mainland yet. Hopefully, they won't have to learn the hard way, but…"

 

 "I follow patrol." Jak spoke with an assurance that prevented his next comment from sounding like arrogance. "Mebbe they know others behind them, not me."

 

 Ryan agreed. "If you follow them, I'll take one post and J.B. you take another. Then Krysty can cover one and Doc and Dean the last."

 

 "What about Mildred?" Krysty asked with a frown.

 

 Ryan looked over to where Mildred was in conversation with Markos and Sineta. "You know, I think this is one time when we really shouldn't say anything to her. She'll feel obliged to tell Markos, and then it could all be shot to shit. If nothing happens, then no one need be any the wiser."

 

 "And if it does? Will the good doctor not feel betrayed?" Doc quizzed.

 

 Ryan grimaced. "That's a chance I'll have to take."

 

 "Not just you," J.B. said quietly, "all of us."

 

 The one-eyed man shrugged. "If things go triple-red, then I figure they'll be too glad of the help to say anything."

 

 J.B. wasn't entirely satisfied with the answer. He knew that Mildred would feel betrayed initially, and although she may understand the reasoning behind Ryan's action eventually, it would only serve to put more distance between them when they had some to repair. But, as he looked across at Millie in conversation with the Pilatan baron and sec chief, he knew that there was no other practical course that Ryan could take.

 

 "Okay, let's do it," he said finally.

 

 The companions slipped away from the camp one by one, to avoid calling attention to themselves. Ryan went first, to take the north sentry point. It was in a heavily wooded area and he had to tread carefully to avoid making any sound. Once he had them in sight, he shinnied up a tree and waited in the branches, with a good view of the area surrounding. Krysty took south and followed a similar course.

 

 For Doc and Dean, it was slightly harder. The eastern sentry post was on the edge of an open plain and the sparser covering of foliage meant that they had to hang back farther than they would have liked to keep concealed and not give away their position.

 

 "I just hope it doesn't kick off here, if there's going to be trouble," Dean whispered. "We're a fair way away from them."

 

 "My dear boy," Doc countered, "if we are going to see any action from the local wildlife, it'll probably come through us before it reaches them." He smiled wickedly. "Let that be a consoling thought."

 

 Meanwhile, the Armorer had made his way to the western point, where the sentry post was set up by a stream, giving a wide view of the opposite bank. The soft gurgling of the stream gave him good cover as he made his way toward the post, keeping in the cover of rushes that had sprung up by the bank. He settled there, figuring it was a good position for concealment, although the cold water and mud around his ankles promised a freezing night ahead.

 

 It was Jak who had the most difficult of the assignments and yet was the one best equipped to carry it out. He was the last to slip away from the camp, having no initial notion of where the roving sec patrol may be. The only thing he could do was pick any point from which to begin and listen to his instincts.

 

 Having made his way out into the wood, so that the noises of the camp were filtered from his consciousness, Jak stopped and hunkered down, stilling his breathing so that he was as immobile and as quiet as possible. In this state, he was able to focus his senses and maybe determine a direction for the sec patrol. Wherever they were, they were out of range. He could hear nothing and his only choice was to take a direction and proceed as swiftly as possible. If he was traveling in a counter direction, then he would find them quickly. If not, it would take him longer than he would have wished to catch up with them. He shrugged to himself, stoically realizing that there was no easier way.

 

 "THIS NIGHT IS TOO LONG for my liking," one member of the four man patrol whispered as they slowly made their way from one post to another. They had traversed the woodlands between the sentry points and had gone as far as the beginnings of another flat plain.

 

 "Do not have fear because of the darkness," a second replied sardonically, "for the larger animals already share that fear and will not be seen until the daylight."

 

 "Easy to say," the other replied sharply.

 

 A third spoke with a weary tone. "Cease this petty squabbling. Neither animal nor man would be out tonight unless they had cause."

 

 "I had not thought of that," the first mused. "Could there be other patrols such as ourselves for which we should look?"

 

 The second laughed softly. "Truly, paranoia is a wondrous beast. You saw yourself that the nearest ville is at least a day's march away."

 

 The first man turned to his accuser in the moonlight and smiled. "Not everyone has to march. Listen…"

 

 In the distance they could hear the sound of a wag, high and whining across the plain.

 

 "Adopt secure positions now!" the patrol leader barked, the banter of a moment before forgotten. Following his lead, the patrol fanned out and adopted defensive positions along the verge of the woodland, waiting for the wag to approach, for the note of the engine deepened into a drone and increased in volume as it headed toward them. Scanning the plain, it was now possible to pick out the shape—with lights extinguished—of what appeared to be a jeep, with at least three men on board.

 

 "Do not fire unless we are seen. If they wish to pass and not enter the wood, we do not alert them to our presence. Understood?"

 

 The other patrol members didn't answer, taking it as an order rather than a question.

 

 Away to the west, Jak had just passed a sentry post, having seen J.B. on watch and alerting him to his presence with the softest of bird calls. The Armorer had returned the signal and let Jak pass, now knowing that the barest sound of his passing wasn't an unknown danger. Jak scouted around the post without anyone even realizing he was there, and continued on his search for the patrol.

 

 It was soon after that he caught the sound of a wag engine on the night air. Realizing that it could only come from an outside source, and having no idea where the sec patrol may be, Jak increased his pace so that he could intercept the wag to ascertain its purpose. Within a few minutes, the engine had grown louder and Jak had arrived at the point where the sec patrol had positioned themselves.

 

 Swiftly and silently, Jak climbed a tree so that he had an overview of the situation. He could see the wag clearly on the plain and could pick out four men in the pale moonlight, all armed. Below him he could see the four patrol members, armed with Glocks and H&Ks, which were the standard Pilatan sec hardware. The patrol was focused and ready to fight. The approaching patrol wouldn't be. They were either an outlying sec patrol themselves, or nocturnal hunters. In either case, their primary concern would be the wildlife and they wouldn't expect a four man sec patrol to blast them.

 

 Seeing that the Pilatans were adopting a primarily defensive stance, Jak decided to sit back and wait. He wouldn't intervene unless strictly necessary, for his sudden presence could throw the Pilatans into confusion. A conflict was looking likely, however, as the wag was headed with an almost unerring accuracy for the spot where the sec patrol was hidden.

 

 "They're not going to turn away," the patrol leader whispered. "Be ready."

 

 "Do you think they've seen us?" asked the patrol member who had earlier voiced apprehensions.

 

 "Do you think it matters?" the patrol leader snapped.

 

 There was no time for any kind of reply as the wag swerved into a turn that would take it along the edge of the wood, obviously the extent of its patrol route. This would have alleviated the need for any kind of action on the part of the Pilatan sec patrol, if not for the fact that the angle of the turn was about to send the back wheel skidding over at least one of the concealed Pilatan sec. They had no choice but to make their presence known.

 

 As one, they sprang out of cover, firing at the wag. In the quiet of the night—broken only by the throb of the wag engine—the sound of blasterfire cut through the air and penetrated into the woods, reaching the Pilatan camp. Markos immediately mobilized some of his sec and set off in the direction of the noise, leaving others to protect the camp. Sineta and Mildred were left behind, the latter suddenly noticing for the first time the absence of the other companions.

 

 Meanwhile, at each of the sec posts, the incumbents went to triple-red, sending one member of each party toward the sound of the firelight. The companions, watching these posts, elected to stay with the majority, hoping that Jak was on hand.

 

 The albino hunter pulled his .357 Magnum Colt Python, but stayed up the tree, electing to see how the firefight would develop. From where he was, the sec patrol seemed to be doing just fine.

 

 The jeep screeched to a halt, the engine stalling as some of the H&K fire splintered the glass in the windshield. Jak could hear the men in the wag curse and yell in confusion, falling from the stationary wag and attempting to return fire, but not being able to see the Pilatans against the darkness of the backdrop, the dark clothing of the sec men blending them into the trees as they dropped back to take cover, firing as they went.

 

 It looked for a second like stalemate, as the sheltering outsiders began to return fire steadily, spraying the area with blasterfire, blindly attempting to hit something… anything.

 

 The Pilatans, on the other hand, had a clear night sky backdrop across the plain on which to pick out the men crouching in cover of the wag. Their returning fire was more sporadic, but closer to the bone. The men behind the wag had themselves concealed well enough to avoid being chilled, but there was no way they could emerge from that small area of cover.

 

 Things would have to change—and quickly. Jak decided it was time for him to enter the scenario. He dropped from the tree, planning to circle around from a distance to pick off some of the outsiders from the rear. It would take all of his skill as a hunter to make an unseen approach, but he was sure he could do it. He began to move across the wooded area to the rear of the Pilatans, but pulled back when he heard the members of the sec posts approaching. There were also the sounds of men coming through the woods to rear of him—sec men from the camp.

 

 Jak swore softly to himself. There was no way now that he could go through with his part of the plan without making himself known. He went back up the tree. The Pilatans would have to sort it out for themselves.

 

 On the contrary, it wasn't necessary for the approaching forces to muster and mount an attack. Under a sudden barrage of concerted cover fire from the outsiders behind the wag, one of the four men scrambled into the driver's seat of the jeep and attempted to start the engine. It whined and squealed three times before catching, all the while slugs from the Pilatan sec force ricocheting off the metal body of the wag. As it caught, and the outsider gunned it into life, the other three men scrambled in, firing recklessly into the woods as they did. The sheer consistency of their fire prevented any of the concealed Pilatan sec men from taking a concerted aim. The outsiders were able to gain the wag and keep firing as the driver turned it, then put his foot down, hammering the accelerator as the wag bumped over the plain, back in the direction it had come.

 

 The Pilatan sec men kept firing at the retreating wag, even as Markos and others from the sec posts and main camp reached the scene. Breathlessly, the patrol leader told the sec boss what had occurred.

 

 Markos nodded solemnly. "I did not think that any ville would send scouts this far out. I fear that we will have to adapt sooner than we expected to the ways of the mainland."

 

 "But we defeated them, sir. That is all that matters," the sec patrol leader said with a barely concealed note of triumph in his voice.

 

 It was a feeling echoed by the others. What Markos had to say to them, Jak didn't wait to hear. He had something else worrying him and he swiftly traversed the distances between the compass point posts, gathering the companions with a few words of explanation as he went. While he journeyed to the next post, the companion keeping guard returned to the main camp.

 

 Traveling counterclockwise, Jak met J.B. last of all. The two men returned to the main Pilatan camp to find an upbeat mood pervading those who had been told of the skirmish by returning sec men and considered that they had made a good show of strength. The companions, on the other hand, were more subdued…particularly Mildred.

 

 "Dark night! I knew we should have mentioned this to Mildred," J.B. muttered to Jak.

 

 The albino shrugged. "Too late worry now. She should know more important things worry about."

 

 As they approached the gathered companions, Mildred was about to speak when Jak cut her short.

 

 "Earlier not matter now. We've got big trouble."

 

 "In what way?" Mildred asked.

 

 "Wag from a ville, four sec…regular patrol by look of it. Now know we're here and in firefight. Be back in daylight, with more sec, find out what fuck's going on."

 

 "So is that a problem? It's what you'd expect," Mildred replied.

 

 "Yeah, what we'd expect," J.B. said pointedly. "Trouble is, Jak's heard them talking to Markos. He's cautious, but he seems to be the only one. And take a look around you. They think they've won and that it stops here. They sure as shit won't listen if you tell them it never ends, so it's up to us to keep alert till the morning."

 

 Mildred nodded. "Guess you were right to shadow them, then. I just wish you'd told me."

 

 "Couldn't." Ryan shook his head. "You were with Sineta and Markos when we had to go for it. There was no way we could safely tell you. Believe me, that's all it was."

 

 Mildred pondered that for a moment. "Okay, it's easy to forget that these people have got a lot to learn and they've got to learn it the hard way. I just hope there's enough of us to cover their asses and ours when the shit hits the wall."

 

 THE PILATAN SEC POSTS had been remanned and the patrol had returned to the central camp full of their victory. Despite the best efforts of the sec chief, the people of the camp had celebrated their "victory" over the outsiders and were still sleeping when the sound of wags could be heard roaring across the plain.

 

 Markos was instantly awake and found that the only ones prepared to meet the intruders were the companions, all of whom were awake and fully armed. Rearming his H&K, he hurried across to them, kicking awake Pilatans as he passed.

 

 "You knew this would happen," he said to Mildred. When she nodded, he added, "You never made the point."

 

 "How could I?" she countered. "I heard you try to make the same point, and no one was listening. So why do you think they were going to listen to me?"

 

 He conceded the point with a shrug. "No matter now. It sounds like a heavy force, many wags…but I doubt they'll be able to get them through to here."

 

 Ryan shook his head. "Probably just for transport. The ville seems to be a long way off. But then they'll pour through the woods, and they could be coming from all angles. And remember, they know this area probably better than we do. I think I'd have preferred it if they could have driven right up to us. At least we'd know where they were."

 

 Markos spoke grimly. "I'll divide us up into parties, send them out to counter any actions. Will you help me rouse the people?"

 

 Ryan nodded, and the companions separated, moving among the sleeping and half-awake Pilatans, rousing them as they went. Their actions were greeted with a mixture of fear and hostility—fear at being attacked and some residual resentment that it was whitelanders who were telling them to get up to prepare for battle.

 

 Markos sent scouts out to the sentry posts to see what was happening and to recall those sec men so that they could be briefed. The job of the scouts was to send back reports with the returning sec men, then keep a roving brief, so that they could plot the progress of the outsiders.

 

 Swiftly, the mood in the Pilatan camp changed. As they fully awakened and could hear the arriving wags, the Pilatans realized that they were in for their first taste of a firefight on the mainland. They rapidly checked and primed their blasters, and assembled in front of Markos, who received the reports of the incoming sec force. He turned to the assembled Pilatans and the companions, and spoke concisely, rapidly.

 

 "They come from the one area, across the plain where the skirmish took place last night. There are ten wags, with approximately five or six people on each. This means that we outnumber them, but they appear to have machine blasters. They may have grens, mebbe even rocket launchers. We cannot know their firepower, therefore must assume the worst.

 

 "I will divide you into small groups and assign posts. We will concentrate our efforts in the direction from which they will come, but also have outlying parties to flank them. You must be alert and shoot to chill. Use the natural cover. They undoubtedly will."

 

 With which, Markos moved among the Pilatans, dividing them into groups and mixing some of them with the companions. "They have experience of firefights in the whitelands—listen to them," he told the relevant groups. But despite this, J.B. and Krysty were put into small war parties where there was hostility from diehard separatists who weren't comfortable with the idea of listening to pale ones.

 

 Before the groups set off into the woods, J.B. managed to snatch a few words with Ryan, telling him of the residual resentment. "Another thing—I don't like the idea of so many people with blasters wandering about in such a small wooded area, blasting at anything that moves."

 

 Ryan agreed. "I know. We should be drawing the enemy out where we can get a clear sighting of them. It'll be too easy to blast our own out there."

 

 "Yeah, I'll go with that," the Armorer agreed grimly. "Good luck out there."

 

 The war parties were about to move out when a scout returned with further information. The wags had rolled to a halt and discharged their cargo of heavily armed men, with a guard of four left to cover them. The men had fanned out and were now in the woods.

 

 "We outnumber them heavily, so the odds are on our side," Markos added when he relayed this to the baron, "but we need to proceed with caution."

 

 Sineta agreed, clutching her blaster. She turned to Mildred as Markos gave the order to move. "I fear I shall not be of much use in the conflict to come."

 

 "You concentrate on keeping alive, sweetie," Mildred told her. "We're a far-flung group, so the chances of you being risked are low. Markos has made sure of that—"

 

 "But I must lead my people," Sineta protested.

 

 "You can't lead them when you're chilled," Mildred countered, cutting her short. "He's done the right thing in the circumstances. Now just stay close to me and don't argue about it, all right?"

 

 The Pilatan war parties moved out into the woods and straight into trouble.

 

 The wooded areas they had to traverse were thick, and it was impossible for them to move stealthily. The same was also true for the incoming attack parties, but the sounds by which they could have been tracked were obliterated by the noise of the Pilatans. Blasterfire filled the air in staccato and irregular blasts, and the air became thick with cries of surprise and pain.

 

 Leading his party, J.B. signaled them to halt, as he was sure that he could hear the enemy approach.

 

 "Why are we stopping?" questioned a separatist who had bridled at the Armorer taking the lead.

 

 "So I can hear what's going down," J.B. whispered, adding, "and keep your voice down, for fuck's sake. Don't need to give away our position."

 

 The separatist took a step forward.

 

 "What are you doing?" J.B. whispered.

 

 "You may be frightened, pale one, but I am not," the separatist replied. "And I take no orders from you."

 

 An astonished J.B. watched the man move openly through the wood, then signaled to his party. "Follow. We'll have to cover him."

 

 Cutting a swath through the foliage, the separatist came across a group of outsiders as they tried to make their way stealthily through the woods. It was hard to know who was the more surprised at the sudden confrontation.

 

 The separatist looked at the stunned war party. They consisted of a white man, two blacks and a Hispanic. Addressing the black men, he said, "But you are my brothers. Why should I make war with you? We can talk about this, can we not? I would rather—"

 

 He was cut short by the startled exclamation of one of the blacks, who was the first to snap out of his stunned reverie.

 

 "Nuckin' hell! Take the freak down before he stops talking and starts firing!"

 

 And as he spoke, the black opened fire with his Uzi, the slugs cutting the separatist almost in two with a neat line of fire across his abdomen. The sound of the blasterfire galvanized the others in the war party and they all began to open fire. Blasterfire was directed at the already chilling separatist, who was hit in the chest, head and stomach, his body reduced to a spray of blood, ribboned flesh and splintered bone, suspended in an upright position only by the momentum of the slugs that poured into him.

 

 "Take them out, now!" J.B. yelled, swinging his Uzi around and firing through the chilled separatist as he swung an arc of hot metal across the gathered war party. The stunned Pilatans behind him snapped back to reality and took aim, also beginning to fire.

 

 The offensive war party retreated rapidly into the woods, leaving behind two chilled—the white man and one of the blacks—and J.B. certain that at least one of the others had been hit and was losing blood.

 

 "Let us pursue them," snarled one of the Pilatans, now roused to anger and, like the others, realizing for the first time what combat could entail. But J.B. stayed him with an arm.

 

 "No, let them go. It's too easy for them to rig an ambush out here. Fall back."

 

 "Retreat? Like cowards?"

 

 "No—like people using our brains," J.B. replied. "We pull back and lure them into the open."

 

 With which, the Armorer started to track back toward the clearing where the Pilatan camp had been established.

 

 As they reached the campsite, they found that more parties were following this course. Certainly, all the companions had encountered similar problems to his own, and the talk among the Pilatans was of other separatists who had met the same fate as the man in J.B.'s force. Their confusion was partly echoed by Markos, as he came over to where the companions had gathered.

 

 "This is a completely alien situation to me," he began without preamble. "We have lost several of our people, although we have made dents in their personnel to compensate. But my people cannot adjust to the idea that other blacks will fire on them. Surely we have solidarity that runs over any other consideration?"

 

 "Keep that attitude up and there won't be any Pilatans left to make a new home," Mildred said harshly. "I've tried to tell you—it doesn't matter what color you are out here, only that it's your ville against the rest. Whatever it takes to survive. And you're going to have to get used to shooting blacks as well as whites and Hispanics and whoever else. Got it?"

 

 The Pilatan sec boss nodded shortly. "But I am out of my depth now."

 

 He turned to the one-eyed man. "Ryan, I would like you to take over the action. Then we may have a chance. I am not good enough—"

 

 Ryan cut him short. "Markos, cut the self pity. You're a good sec chief who's never had this kind of experience before, so learn from it. You're still the boss, but take advice when it's offered…like now." Markos chewed his lip and assented, so Ryan continued, outlining his strategy.

 

 "I see your point," Markos said briefly. "Let's put it into action."

 

 Ryan charged Jak and Mildred with relaying the plan to the individual groups along with Markos. The albino and Mildred were the two companions in whom all the Pilatans had trust, and this wasn't a time for any last residual traces of resentment to surface. As soon as they had finished, the Pilatans sprang to action.

 

 Small groups ventured to the lip of the woods and established sentry posts up in the trees. While they did that, others formed a small circle of covered wags in the center of the clearing, with the livestock gathered inside, some of the Pilatans remaining to make it seem as though a full scale retreat into the center had been ordered and implemented. The remainder of the Pilatans, along with the companions, then made their way to the sentry posts, where they established a series of positions in the upper reaches of the foliage.

 

 From the reports of the different parties, Ryan had realized that the opposing forces had retreated when faced with the onslaught. They'd had time to regroup and would be making a second offensive. They would be suspicious that they were meeting no resistance as they moved through the woods, but when they caught sight of the covered defensive position, with the Pilatans within arranging things to look like the whole community had pulled back into cover, they would attempt to rush the wags, leaving themselves wide open to attack from above. The key would be keeping silent and still until the right moment.

 

 Jak had volunteered to scout the woods to try to bring back advanced warning of any encroaching parties. The albino had disappeared silently into the undergrowth sometime previously and Ryan now could feel the tension and suspense spreading through the Pilatans as they were—literally—suspended from the foliage.

 

 Jak appeared suddenly and without warning, seeming to melt like a shadow only to reform to shinny up the tree where Ryan was waiting.

 

 "Coming. Down to mebbe forty-five, forty-six. In one party. Not all men, either. They have one woman."

 

 Ryan smiled slowly. It was working out better than he could have hoped. The opposition was seeking safety in numbers and was traveling in one phalanx that would keep them together and all nicely in one place for the ambush. It was puzzling that no one had spotted the woman before, and odd that she should be the only one as sec forces that used women usually had a more equal mix. But no matter. She was still the enemy and that was all that counted.

 

 Jak moved from tree to tree, spreading the message. Ryan settled in to wait. There was no longer that air of apprehension. Action was coming, and soon.

 

 Within minutes it was possible to hear the outsiders moving through the undergrowth, their mass making more noise than previously. Slowly they came into view. In a pyramid formation, watching the area around them closely and never thinking to look up. Ryan caught sight of the woman. There was something familiar about her that he couldn't place. He put it from his mind as the two men in front reached the lip of the clearing and saw the people gathered in the center.

 

 "They pulled right back, man, easy pickings," the front man whispered, the words reaching Ryan's ears, he was waiting so close to them.

 

 "Let's charge them, get it done, before they have a chance to open up and fight," came another voice.

 

 And then the action began. The outsiders charged into the clearing, opening fire on the covered wags. The Pilatans inside began to return fire. It was a calculated risk, as they had padded the walls of their enclosure as much as possible, but were still at risk from injury or buying the farm from heavier caliber blasterfire. But they had only to hold out until the offensive party had come completely into the open.

 

 Which was now.

 

 At a signal from the one-eyed man, the Pilatans in the trees dropped to the ground and began to fire at the outsiders. In the sudden confusion of noise and the hail of fire that hit them, many of the offensive party didn't realize what had happened. Those who did whirled around and tried to return fire, but realized that they were in no position to defend themselves.

 

 The phalanx broke apart, as the offensive party made a break for the woods, trying to circle the Pilatans while still returning covering fire.

 

 Very few made it to the woods. The clearing was littered with the chilled corpses of the offensive party, caught up in the crossfire of the two Pilatan groups, with some also suffering at the hands of their own as the confused party tried to return fire in opposing directions.

 

 The Pilatans broke, also, following the opposing force through the woods. Some escaped, starting the wags and speeding across the plain to wherever they had come from, but most were still and chilled either in the clearing or in the woods.

 

 When they were sure that the woods had been secured, the companions and Markos assembled the Pilatans in the clearing, moving the corpses.

 

 "We have done well and we have learned much today," Sineta said to the assembled throng. "We must move on now, before we invite further hostilities, which would be unnecessary on both sides. We will attempt to find ourselves a place where we can build our own ville, and then perhaps we shall not be treated with such disdain."

 

 "Well, I wouldn't bet on that," Dean murmured to his father as they split into groups to bury the chilled and prepare for departure. There were only a few Pilatan casualties, but Sineta wished them to afford their enemies the same respect.

 

 "Neither would I," Ryan replied as he began to dig. "But mebbe they've learned a lot about the mainland in one nasty, quick lesson. What do you reckon? Dean?" he added, when his son didn't reply.

 

 Ryan looked at his son, who was staring in open-mouthed disbelief at the edge of the clearing. Following his son's gaze, Ryan could see the woman from the war party standing at the edge of the clearing. There was something familiar about her, but more importantly, why was she still there when the others had long since departed?

 

 "Dean, what is it?" Ryan asked again.

 

 Dean shook his head in disbelief and said only one word by way of explanation and reply.

 

 "Rona…"

 

  

 

 Chapter Fourteen

 

  

 

 "Sharona?"

 

 Ryan couldn't believe that his son was correct. The woman at the edge of the clearing seemed much older than Dean's mother would be, if she had lived. But she had bought the farm. Rad sickness was why she had sent the boy away from her. This woman appeared gaunt, different than he remembered. Although there was something about the eyes… Perhaps that was why Ryan had looked twice at her, with an uneasy sense, when he had seen her in the war party.

 

 But why had this woman remained behind?

 

 Even as those thoughts crossed Ryan's mind, the woman was stepping forward into the clearing, so that both he and his son could see her clearly.

 

 "Dean…" the woman said softly in a voice that sent a chill up Ryan's spine, a voice that dragged up echoes from the past.

 

 "I knew you were coming," Dean stated flatly. He didn't know what to think. All those dreams and that sense of longing.

 

 She walked forward slowly toward the younger Cawdor. Dean broke from beside his father to run to embrace her.

 

 Ryan watched, still stunned at the sudden reappearance of a woman he had long since believed chilled. Away to one side, both Jak and Krysty stopped in their work, seeing what was occurring.

 

 "Who's that?" Jak asked.

 

 Krysty shook her head, feeling her hair tighten to her as she did. "I don't know, but I've got a feeling it's going to be nothing but trouble."

 

 MILDRED, DOC AND J.B. had no idea of what was taking place on the edge of the clearing as they were esconsced in the center of the activities taking place where the Pilatans were preparing to leave. They were helping to load the livestock with their packs when Sineta and Markos approached them.

 

 "Leave that for a second," the baron said, "we have something we wish to discuss with you."

 

 "Ah, joy, surely you wish to inform us of your impending nuptials," Doc announced happily.

 

 Markos furrowed his brow and gazed at Doc, not sure if the older man was being humorous.

 

 "May I ask just what you mean by that?" the sec boss requested gravely.

 

 "Don't you take any notice of the old coot. He's just having one of his crazy moments," Mildred said hurriedly, not wishing Doc or the sec boss to derail the conversation before it had begun in earnest. "What is it?" she added to Sineta.

 

 "We have been discussing seriously the future of our community and we would wish for you to travel forth with us in perpetuity," Sineta said.

 

 Mildred whistled. "That's something I wouldn't have expected. I wouldn't have thought you would have wanted us hanging around forever."

 

 "Especially as we're not part of you," J.B. added. "There's still a lot of people here who think we're outsiders and should stay that way."

 

 "But that is precisely the point," Sineta interjected. "We do not wish you to travel with us as outsiders. We want you to become part of Pilatu and to join with our community."

 

 "I think you may find that quite a sizable proportion of your people may find this hard to come to terms with," Doc pointed out. "There is still—at the very least—a residual resentment against us."

 

 "I know this, and I also acknowledge that you are aware of it, too," Sineta said, speaking with great care and thought, "but if this is ever to change, then we will have to start teaching these recidivists at some point."

 

 "So we're to be instruments in a lesson?" Mildred queried, amused at the manner in which Sineta had put her point.

 

 "Not quite like that," the baron replied, acknowledging her clumsiness with an embarrassed smile. "You have much to offer us in terms of knowledge and understanding, and we want to learn from that…most of us. The others will realize in time, as we have. In return, we can offer you a kind of security. Something, perhaps, that you have been searching for, a kind of peace and belonging. Is that not true? I could see it in you when we were on the island," Sineta implored to Mildred.

 

 Mildred felt uncomfortable for a moment. She had to pick her words carefully when she replied. "There is a certain degree of truth in what you say, but I have my own commitments and belonging. Maybe I'll tell you about them later, when we're not in the middle of packing to move on."

 

 She had hoped to stall indefinitely, unwilling to have to explain herself, but Markos's words cut short any hopes.

 

 "This is good. We will all discuss this matter—ourselves and the rest of your people—when we pitch camp tonight."

 

 "That wasn't exactly what we had in mind," Mildred said to the Armorer as they finished loading the cattle and moved out.

 

 "Yeah, well, mebbe there are things that are going to make having to explain that unnecessary," he said slowly.

 

 Mildred followed his gaze to where Dean was walking with Sharona, Ryan and Krysty some distance behind.

 

 "Hmm. I'd like to know what that's all about, and who that woman is," Mildred mused.

 

 "She looks vaguely familiar," the Armorer said. "This could be trouble."

 

 THE PILATAN CARAVAN moved out of the clearing and away through the woods. They took a route that carried a direction contrary to the direction of the ville from which the war party had arrived earlier in the day. They had no wish to encounter more raiders and indeed desired to put as much distance between the ville and themselves as possible. Wherever their fate lay in the search for land to build a new Pilatu, it certainly wasn't in that direction.

 

 By the time they had packed and begun to move, it was already into the late afternoon. The baron and the sec boss made a conscious decision to carry on marching through most of the night to put distance between themselves and any war parties bent on revenge. But by the middle of the night, it became apparent that the exhausted Pilatans would need to rest. Scouting sec parties that had been sent ahead, and also to track back to warn of any approaches from the rear, had nothing to report. There was even a lack of predatory wildlife in this part of the plain and woodland. Stretches of flat, open land had been punctuated by sudden bursts of woodland, which the Pilatan caravan had skirted around rather than risk becoming entangled. It was in the shelter around the edges of one such outcrop that Sineta and Markos brought the caravan to a halt, to allow the exhausted people to take some rest.

 

 As the caravan settled to rest for the remainder of the night, Markos and Sineta once again broached the subject they had raised earlier with Mildred, Doc and J.B.

 

 Having posted sec sentries for the night, the sec boss came over to where the companions had settled with Sharona. Ryan was about to tackle the matter of who this woman was, and why she had seemingly arrived out of nowhere when believed chilled, when the sec boss requested that he and the baron talk with them.

 

 In truth, Ryan was relieved for the distraction. He hadn't been looking forward to tackling the subject and had had no idea where to begin. Come to that, he still had no idea of where Sharona had been or how she had landed in the same place as the companions—and he had absolutely no idea what her intentions were with regard to her son and to the rest of the traveling party. She had been reticent on the matter during the day's march, refusing to be drawn on her own life and instead pumping Dean for details of what had occurred to him during the time that they had been parted.

 

 While the rest of the companions were waiting for Ryan to explain, they were stunned when he told Markos that it would be fine to talk to the sec boss and the baron.

 

 "What the hell did you do that for?" Krysty asked angrily. "We're owed an explanation, aren't we?"

 

 "And I'm sure we'll get it—in time," Ryan said pointedly, staring at Sharona. "But first let's hear what Sineta and Markos have to say."

 

 "I think we know some of it," J.B. ventured.

 

 Ryan frowned. "So we've all been keeping secrets. Fireblast, this had better not become a habit."

 

 Any argument was cut short by the arrival of the baron and the sec boss, who outlined the proposition put to half of the companions earlier in the day.

 

 Ryan whistled. "There's a lot of your people that could make it rough for us, if we agreed," he said.

 

 Markos nodded. "That much is true, and I acknowledge that we are not asking you to undertake that which is easy, but I feel that we could learn so much from you. Speaking personally, I know that I have learned much."

 

 Ryan grinned. "I told you about that. You learn about tactics as you go along, and you'll learn about the mainland as you go along. Anything that we say or do right now is no substitute for actually living it and learning from experience."

 

 "This much I have gathered," Markos said with due consideration. "But that is not the only thing I have learned, and in many ways, it is the least of my concerns." He continued in a halting tone, stopping to consider every word. "My brother—in the days when I believed him to be a man of honor and integrity, taught me that the black man and the white man were completely separate and that never the twain could meet. That is something that was deeply ingrained in me, perhaps even more than I was fully aware. But I do not feel that way anymore. We are different, but we are equal. That feels so strange, even now, for those words to pass my lips and to be more than just hollow.

 

 "It is strange to consider that just a few short weeks ago, when I first encountered you in the Pilatan woods that I shall see no more in this life, I thought of you as little more than scum who were trying to oppress, if not chill, Mildred. And I did not believe that it was possible for you and she to exist within the same group without a hierarchy of some manner to intrude. But I was wrong. I have learned, more than anything, that it is not your origin—in either a racial or geographic sense—that matters, but rather the manner in which you act and conduct yourself that is important. It is not where you consider yourself to be in terms of origins, but rather how you consider yourself and conduct yourself…how you act toward yourself and others as we all try to survive and make a life in what can be an extremely prejudiced and hostile environment.

 

 "And that, my friends, which I am proud to call you now, is why I feel it important that you become part of Pilatu and travel with us not just as yourselves but as a part of our community. There are still those who feel as I once did. Still those who would have us stay separate from the other races—whatever they may be. Perhaps they have learned something from our encounter with the sec force last night. But then again, some attitudes are hardily ingrained. Only a long term process can help that."

 

 There was a silence after the sec boss had finished. It had been a difficult speech for him to make, as he was a proud man who was admitting to mistakes. But it had been undoubtedly heartfelt.

 

 Sineta added her voice to his before any of the companions had a chance to reply.

 

 "It is not just for this reason that we wish you to become part of us. In the time since I have known Mildred I have come to look upon her as the sister with which I was never blessed, and I value her opinions and counsel. With her greater experience of the world in which we have entered, I would be a fool to wish you a speedy parting. She is of great value to me as baron of Pilatu and also as a person I love deeply."

 

 Mildred embraced Sineta. "I think of you in the same way, but I don't know if it would work. We're not ready to settle down, any of us. We don't belong anywhere yet."

 

 "But why not belong here?" Sineta queried, noticing the manner in which Dean looked at the new arrival as Mildred spoke. For a moment the baron was distracted with the feeling of foreboding that the boy's glance gave her. She wondered if any of the companions had noticed as she continued. "You told me when we on the island that it was the first time you had felt as though you had a sense of belonging for a great amount of time."

 

 Mildred smiled wryly. "Greater than you'll ever know. But I was wrong. Part of the belonging was only in my mind. In the real world, in day-to-day terms, this is where I belong…" Mildred looked into the distance, seeing something that no one else could, before continuing in a wistful tone of voice. "You see, the island, and the way you had lived for so many generations, was like a chasm of time, a gap into which you had fallen, where so much had stayed still for so long. You'd been in this chasm, and had preserved so much of the way you had always been, never really changing or having to change. But there does always have to be change, and that was brought home to me when you had to leave the island. There's so much that you've had to face up to and assimilate already since leaving Pilatu, and there'll be so much more.

 

 "And it wasn't just the island and the people that were part of that chasm. I had it in me, too. There was something in me that had been cast into that pit so long ago, before I even knew it myself. I had to lose something of myself to fit in, hide some part of my identity to operate in the world as it was. That chasm was a real thing, as well. I lost so many years, lost the world that I used to know, and maybe I lost even more of myself. Then I came to Pilatu and found a part of myself that I didn't even know was there anymore, and I felt like I'd gone from being blind to being able to see with the clearest, most incredible vision that I'd ever known.

 

 "But it wasn't focused. I've come to realize that the parts of me that I thought were lost were there all the time, but they just weren't so simply prescribed anymore. They were values that hadn't been lost, but had been more universally applied. I did belong, I'd just never had time to think about it. I had a family, a tribe, and I don't know if it's at all possible for us to fit in with anyone else."

 

 Sineta reached out and took Mildred's hand. "I shall miss you—miss all of you—if you depart. But I shall understand."

 

 Markos grunted. "I'm not sure that I can say the same. I will abide by any decision, but I feel a little lost."

 

 Ryan slapped the sec boss on the back. "You know what? I kind of feel the same. Sometimes people use a lot of unnecessary words to explain simple things. At the end of the day, anyone has to live their own way and learn their own lessons. And the problem is, I think ours are just different to yours. We're looking for something—a place we can call home, a place that seems right for us. What we need isn't what you need. Pilatu needs a plot of land where it can build a ville, start to farm and start to trade. Somehow, I think that just isn't for us."

 

 "Then what is?" Markos asked.

 

 The one-eyed man shrugged. "I don't know, but I'll let you know when we find it, because I'm sure we'll all know when we do."

 

 Markos and Sineta rose to leave the companions, both seeming to accept that their allies wouldn't join permanently to them.

 

 "Travel with us a little longer," Markos said by way of parting. "We would welcome your company until you feel the need to strike out on your own."

 

 "Wouldn't have it any other way," Ryan said simply.

 

 The companions sat in silence, watching Markos and Sineta leave them. Then Ryan turned and fixed Sharona with a monocular stare in the flickering firelight.

 

 "And it strikes me that Mildred isn't the only one around here with a story to tell," he said softly.

 

 "I DON'T REALLY KNOW where to begin," Sharona said hesitantly, "because it all seems so strange, and in a lot of ways as though it happened to somebody else, which it kind of did. I'm not the same as I was back when I last saw you," she added to Dean.

 

 "You look…different," her son replied. "I knew it was you straight away, though. What happened, Rona? You were buying the farm. It was rad sickness. That's why you sent me away, because you didn't have long left. So how come…?"

 

 "I wish I could answer that," she replied. "I truly wish I could, because then I could begin to understand what I've been through in the past few years and I could account for how I ended up here, right now. But I can't. All I can tell you is that I was deathly ill. I thought it was rad sickness and it wouldn't be long before I was finally chilled. That was truly why I sent you away," she said to Dean, "because I didn't want to see you at the end—didn't want you to see me. I thought it would be long and painful, and I had to make sure that you were looked after in some way and that you'd be all right when I was gone. And let's face it, we didn't have much of a life near the end anyway, with me having to work in a gaudy to earn some jack."

 

 Dean winced at the memories. Now he had his mother back, he didn't want to remember those days and what she had been through so that they could survive. "Don't, please," he said softly.

 

 Sharona ruffled his hair. "I've got to, sweetheart, if I'm going to explain in some way what happened to me. You see, after you'd gone, I started to waste away more and more. I became so thin that even the cheapest gaudy slut had more meat on her bones than I did. I couldn't even earn a living with my body anymore— sure, I'd pick up the odd trick, but not enough to keep alive. And even though I knew the end was near, there was still a part of me that wanted to keep alive…you know, that spark that won't let you give up, even when you feel like there's no hope.

 

 "So there was nothing left for me there—you were gone, and I couldn't earn a living in any way.

 

 "But there was a convoy coming through, a trader called Nyland. Evil, nasty piece of work, but with some surprising edges. Can't remember ever seeing a woman trader before, especially one that was so small. She must have just been five feet, if she was that. But I've never seen anyone, man or woman, who could take so much jolt or drink so much and still stay on her feet. And that was when her temper got worse. I once saw her take on a man twice her size and beat him in a fight by crushing his balls with her teeth while he tried to break her neck. He let her loose in sheer pain and she chilled him by beating him with a table.

 

 "And yet she took pity on me. She found me when I was trying desperately to turn a trick. I was willing to take on two of her crew for the price of one because I hadn't eaten for days. But when I stripped naked they laughed, and one of them wanted to satisfy himself by beating me first. Guess I must have screamed louder than I thought, because she found me. She had this number two called Dimitri, a fat guy with glasses who liked boys. He had a temper almost as bad as hers. The two of them ripped the shit out of these guys and left them chilled. Only thing she moaned about was how the hell was she gonna find replacements at such short notice, and she argued with Dimitri that they should have just beaten them up a little. I swear, I thought they were gonna rip the shit out of each other next.

 

 "Anyway, they noticed I was there eventually, and I guess she remembered why they'd gone in so hard in the first place. She asked me why I was turning tricks when I looked so bad, and I told her. That's when she offered me the chance to join her convoy. With these guys chilled, she needed someone to act as quartermaster as to cook and clean.

 

 "I figured she must be a little crazy—I was buying the farm— But it was a better offer than anything else I'd had for a long time, so I went with it. Once I was in her convoy, I saw a few people like my self… the lame and the useless, and I figured that it was her hobby. But at least I didn't have to screw anyone for jack anymore and she was okay if you kept on the right side of her. She had a healer from the bayous by the name of Mama Celeste. She fussed over me for weeks on end, saying that I had something called tuberculosis and a bad thyroid problem. She had a store of medicine she kept in an old footlocker, and she doctored me as if I were her own child. I got better. It wasn't rad sickness after all. I was going to live.

 

 "Mama Celeste was my savior, and I got strong really quickly, although I never put much weight on again and I looked different from when you knew me," she said to Dean. "My skin's still shitty and breaks out sometimes, and I look older than I am, but inside I got a whole lot stronger…stronger than I was before and sure as hell a whole lot stronger than I look, which came in useful sometimes.

 

 "I stayed with the convoy, and I started to do more. And we were a good little outfit. We became the tightest little outfit working this side of the coast, and we were such a stupe-looking bunch that no one figured we'd ever be the trouble we could be. Nyland became the trader that no one ever wanted to cross. Mebbe even more so than Trader," she said to Ryan.

 

 "Anyway, this went on for some time. I didn't think much about my old life. Not because I'd forgotten you," she said to Dean, "but because I figured that wherever you were, you were probably doing better there than you ever would with me, and that's okay. I just put it out of my mind whenever it came back to me. But then it started to change.

 

 "The people you fought back there were from a ville called Broadmead, and they're not bad people. They were always fair to us when we traded with them, and we came back to them a few times. But when we were on our way back this time, I couldn't stop thinking about my son."

 

 Sharona looked up into the night sky, finding it hard now to express what was inside.

 

 "Dean was always on my mind, and I used to dream about him all the time. I hadn't done that since the days when the sickness was really bad. I figured that mebbe it was welling up again…but after a few nights I knew it wasn't about that. I knew that the most stupe, impossible thing was happening. That somehow, in a way I couldn't explain even if I wanted to, I knew that Dean was coming near to me and that if I followed my instincts, then I would find him."

 

 "Hot pipe!" Dean exclaimed. "That's what it was." He explained, when faced with questioning glances, "Since we did the last jump, I've had dreams about Rona, and all the while we were on Pilatu, I kind of envied Mildred that thing about family and belonging that she was getting. It was like there was something that I was missing and it wasn't anything I'd thought about, but it was just there."

 

 Sharona nodded. "I stayed behind the last time we hit Broadmead. I knew that I had to, that if I just waited long enough you'd be brought to me. All I had to do was have patience and wait till it got really strong. And I could see you, I knew you were near. Then when the sec patrol got ambushed, and they wanted a raiding party, I volunteered to go on it. They didn't want me, but they were always too scared of Nyland's crew to say no to us. And the rest…" Sharona trailed off with a shrug. There was nothing more to say.

 

 But plenty for them to think about.

 

 THE PILATAN CARAVAN spent the next two days journeying across the plain until they came upon the remains of an old highway that stretched, in jagged and broken line, into the distance. The growth of vegetation around the highway was considerably less than farther back through the plains they had just traversed, making their progress easier. There were little signs of any villes nearby, and after some consultation with the companions, who had traveled these kind of routes many times before, Sineta and Markos decided to strike out ahead. They had put a considerable distance between themselves and the ville of Broadmead. Whoever they encountered now would find them willing to take matters on different terms.

 

 During the long trek, Sharona took the chance to be with her son as much as possible, and Dean was also eager to spend time with his mother. The rest of the companions, knowing that they had spent so much time apart, and that the youth was still in shock at the sudden and unexpected reappearance of his mother, let them be. Krysty couldn't shake the notion at the back of her mind that there was something amiss with Sharona, and this wasn't to be a glorious reunion. Was this some kind of residual jealousy because Ryan's ex-lover had reappeared? Was it because she had, almost without realizing, slipped into the role of being a surrogate mother to Dean when he needed it? She didn't know and didn't feel inclined to delve too deeply in case she didn't like what she may find.

 

 But the alarm bells didn't stop ringing.

 

 Sharona made the most of the time she had with Dean to catch up on what he had been doing since she had last seen him, but when he talked of what they would be doing in the future, he noticed that she seemed uneasy and gave him pat answers that suggested she wasn't comfortable with the idea of traveling with them. He broached the matter with his customary lack of subtlety as they rested by the side of the blacktop one late afternoon.

 

 "Rona, why don't you want to come with us? Are you going to sneak off and leave me again?"

 

 Sharona leveled him with a stare, pausing to pick her words before answering. There were things about the question that hurt. She said, "I never left you willingly, you know that. And I came looking for you, waited to find you, so I don't think it's likely that I'm going to turn around and sneak off, as you put it—"

 

 "I'm sorry," Dean cut in with a small voice. "I didn't mean…"

 

 Sharona sighed. "I don't blame you, Dean. You were young, and you wanted to stay, and I wouldn't let you. And I'm not going to let you go this time."

 

 "Then why do you sound so distant when I start to talk about the others and where we'll be going or what we'll be doing next?"

 

 Sharona paused. "Because I don't know if it'll be the right thing for me to go with them…or you, either."

 

 At first Dean could say nothing. He was too shocked by what Sharona had said. The companions were his life and now that his mother was back, he wanted her to be part of that, so he could have that sense of family that he had spent his time on Pilatu yearning for. Why didn't she want that?

 

 Sharona looked at him with a sad smile, as though she had read his mind. "They're your people, not mine," she whispered. "I don't know them and I don't see how I can fit in."

 

 "But they're really good—been really good to me. I mean. I know Doc's a bit crazy, but he's got courage. Jak takes a long time to know, but he's the best hunter you'll ever see, and an amazing fighter. I've learned so much from him. Mildred is great, and J.B.'s so cool with all the shit he knows, and Krysty has been like a mom to me, and then there's Dad…" Dean suddenly trailed off, as it began to make more sense to him. Something clicked in his head.

 

 "Yeah, exactly," Sharona answered. "Your dad is really thrown by me turning up. I can tell because he's said nothing to me about it since that night when I tried to explain it all. And Krysty can't be too happy about me being here, either. Can't say that I blame her. So it'll be hard for us all to get along. But why do we have to?"

 

 "I don't follow," Dean said, although he had the nastiest feeling that he knew what was coming.

 

 Sharona grabbed him by the shoulders and her deep-set eyes lit up as she said, "Why don't we just go off by ourselves? Mebbe we could try to find Nyland's convoy again, or find a ville where we could settle and make a life for ourselves. Somewhere that we won't have to face shitloads of danger every day, where we can just live in peace and get back the time we've lost."

 

 "Why do we have to do that?"

 

 Tears filled her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. "Because I don't want to share you with anyone. Why should I? I've lost so much time with you. I sent you away thinking I was about to buy the farm! I can't see myself sharing you and risking you every day in some insane search for…for what?"

 

 Dean shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know if I can leave them all behind. Please don't make me."

 

 Sharona could see the real hurt in his face and she looked away.

 

 "I truly don't know if I can do that, Dean. But I'll think about it. It's all I can promise you."

 

  

 

 Chapter Fifteen

 

  

 

 The Pilatan caravan traveled across the new lands for several days, covering a rapidly changing terrain. Some sections were arid, the land scorched and barren, where others were lushly vegetated with overhanging woodlands that provided cover for the shrubs and grasses to propagate. There was little wildlife to bother the caravan. Most of the mammals were small and the birds weren't of a predatory variety.

 

 There was, however, one moment when the Pilatans came face-to-face with a facet of mainland life with which the companions were all too familiar.

 

 It was on the third day, as they crossed a stretch of land that was so sunblasted and rad damaged that little could grow. The only thing that linked this to any of the other areas they had passed was the ubiquitous two-lane blacktop that still wove its broken-backed way across the land. A scout party reported that they had located a source of water. The Pilatans were plentifully supplied with food as Jak had taught them supplementary hunting skills that they had practiced with great aplomb on the small mammals and birds. But water was always a problem. They only had a certain amount of water that they could store as they journeyed, so the search for water was always of paramount importance.

 

 The scouting party had reported that they had found a spring about three miles to the northeast. Markos led the caravan in that direction. It was on the way that Krysty turned to Ryan.

 

 "Something bad's about to happen, lover. I'm not sure what, but it doesn't feel good," she commented.

 

 Ryan looked at her. Her hair was waving in the breeze, curling around her head. It wasn't tight and defensive, but it was alarmed. He turned to the other companions.

 

 "Triple-red—keep your blasters ready."

 

 "Shouldn't we tell the others?" Sharona asked, readying her own Vortak precision pistol, which she had kept hidden about her person.

 

 Ryan shook his head. "They've got to learn these things the hard way. Besides, what am I going to tell them? They don't really know much about Krysty being able to sense trouble."

 

 Sharona shrugged. "Have it your own way, Ryan."

 

 The one-eyed man shot her a glance. "I will," he said harshly.

 

 Dean was about to respond when they were distracted by a shout from the front of the caravan.

 

 "Water ahead—and what the hell is that?"

 

 Looking to where the spring lay, the companions could see a mass of naked people…no, not people, for there was something animalistic about the group, who acted more like a pack of wild dogs.

 

 "Stickies!" J.B. exclaimed.

 

 Markos turned. "What are stickies?"

 

 Ryan shook his head. "Time for explanations later. Just know that they're vicious and they need chilling!"

 

 His words came not a moment too soon, as the pack by the spring sighted the caravan and turned to charge toward them. From the manner in which they had been greedily consuming from the spring, they had probably not seen water for some time…by which token, they had probably not seen food for as long. And the Pilatans would look like good food to them.

 

 "Don't let them get near. Just blast the bastards!" Ryan yelled.

 

 He mentally weighed the odds. At a rough glance, it seemed as though there were as many stickies as there were Pilatans, and the caravan was armed. Against that, many of the Pilatans were children, or old, and none of them had experience of what a stickie was capable of. With their sharp teeth, their bloodlust frenzy, and the flattened, rubbery suckers on their fingers that could grip and crush a victim, it would be a close-run thing. And which way it would run, he didn't want to predict.

 

 The companions, under Ryan's direction stepped away from the main body of the caravan and began to fire on the stickies. There was still enough distance between the blasters and the intended victims for a lot of the shooting to be random rather than aimed, but several of the creatures went down either chilled or fatally wounded as the slugs from the handblasters and the charges from Doc's LeMat percussion pistol, J.B.'s M-4000 and Ryan's SIG-Sauer ripped through them. J.B.'s load of barbed metal flechettes were particularly effective, as the spiked and white-hot metal ripped through the mass of flesh that was the crowd of charging stickies, mangling bone and filling the air with a fine mist of blood.

 

 However, even though some of their number hit the dirt, the promise of food and the fear caused by the carnage among them spurred the stickies on even more and they continued their charge toward the Pilatan caravan.

 

 "What manner of creatures are these?" Sineta whispered in awe. As most of the Pilatans, she hadn't yet started to fire, frozen in surprise and horror as she watched the mutie horde cover the distance between the spring and the caravan with a deceptively fast, loping strides. They were gaining ground quickly—too quickly for Markos, one of the only Pilatans with the presence of mind to fire on the approaching danger, and he turned and yelled at his people.

 

 "They're dangerous and deadly if you don't start firing," Mildred screamed in the baron's ear as she ran to her side, still snapping off shots from her ZKR, and reloading on the run. "Now start shooting, for God's sakes, and aim for their heads!"

 

 Galvanized into action by Mildred and Markos, the baron and the rest of the Pilatans began to fire. But some of the stickies had made enough ground to now be on top of the caravan. One grabbed at a sec man, frozen in fear, and wrestled him to the ground, the suckers tearing the flesh on his face as the sharp rows of teeth made to rip at his throat and shoulder. His scream was high, built on fear and pain.

 

 Mildred moved across swiftly and placed her ZKR on the side of the creature's head, firing and blowing its skull open, splattering the terrified sec man with brain and bone. The chilled stickie fell from him, but where the skull had been cracked like an eggshell, the teeth from the bottom jaw stayed imbedded in his face.

 

 Another scream from behind made Mildred whirl, cursing herself for leaving Sineta's side. A stickie had made it as far as the baron and had jumped her, dragging her to the ground. They were rolling wildly in the dust, the baron vainly fighting to throw the mutie off her, just holding its head away from her face by keeping the heel of her hand firmly under the creature's chin, pushing it up. But the stickie's strong arms—a deceptive strength given the seemingly pale flabbiness of the creature's flesh—were pulling her arms down, the suckers biting into the skin through her clothes, deadening the muscles as the iron grip cut off the blood supply.

 

 Mildred tried to take aim, but they were moving too much. She stood too much risk of hitting Sineta if she fired.

 

 Jak saw what was happening and before Mildred even had a chance to register what he was doing, the albino hunter had sped past her toward the struggling couple. Holstering his .357 Magnum Colt Python and panning one of his razor sharp, leaf-bladed knives, he took the stickie at a run, a swift arm movement slicing across the front of the creature's head, opening up its face from the top lip to the forehead, slicing through the nose and puncturing one eyeball along the way. As the creature's fetid breath mixed with the blood and eyeball mucus that dripped onto her face, Sineta found herself gagging, fighting to hold down the bile that rose in her throat and would choke her if she gave in to the urge to vomit while she was still pinned down.

 

 The stickie screamed in a high, keening voice, loosening its grip as it registered pain. Sineta responded immediately, throwing the mutie off her. Even before it had landed, Jak followed up to finish the job, pinning it down and slicing across its throat with one swift, efficient motion, cutting through the neck to the spinal column at the rear.

 

 Sineta didn't have a chance to thank him. Instead, she showed her appreciation by blasting the stickie that was making for Jak's exposed back.

 

 Gradually, as the firepower of the caravan decimated the stickie horde and thinned it out, the stunned Pilatans began to gain the upper hand, forcing the remaining stickies to run in fear and terror. When the retreating muties were out of range, and the Pilatans were safe, Markos turned to Ryan, having assessed that the caravan had sustained only minimal casualties.

 

 "Now are you going to tell me all about those creatures, and any other hazards we may need warning about?" He grinned, flushed from the success of battle.

 

 Ryan returned the smile. "When we've cleaned up."

 

 WITH REPLENISHED STOCKS, the caravan once more went on its way. Ryan and the other companions had outlined some of the dangers that the Pilatans may face from the likes of stickies, but despite the increased vigilance of the sec patrols, there was nothing more to report as they made their way out of the rad infected section of country.

 

 As the land became more verdant once more, they found themselves climbing an incline. The land around was rolling plains and they seemed to be taking one of these on the ascent as they followed the blacktop. It was a shallow incline, but a long one—at least a day's march—and it would finally take them away from the old predark route they had been following for the blacktop curved away from the incline and came to a sudden halt where a chasm had been cut into the land by an earth movement. A sec party including Ryan and Markos had made its way along the remnants of the road until it came to the sudden dip of the chasm. It was about sixty feet wide and stretched like a scar on the land as far as they could see in either direction. Looking down, the chasm seemed to be at least a hundred feet deep, with trees and shrubs growing down sides that were too steep to countenance a descent.

 

 "It would appear, friend Ryan, that this is the end of the road, if you'll excuse the appalling word play," Markos said ruefully. "From our discussions, I gather that many villes and trade routes are built along these old roads and that would have been our surest chance of hitting something approaching civilization."

 

 "Yeah, apart from the fact that civilization is just a word that I've seen in some old predark books," Ryan said quietly.

 

 "Point taken, my friend. Let us just say that it would bring us into contact with other people. But now…"

 

 "Well, it's not that great a disaster. There's more than one old blacktop left across the land. If we keep going, we'll come to something sooner or later—some place where you can settle."

 

 "But not you?"

 

 Ryan smiled wryly. "I doubt it."

 

 The sec party returned to the main body of the caravan and reported their findings before carrying on with the trek up the long incline.

 

 It was an easy trek after the past few days. There was a plentiful supply of animals, fruits for food and water in streams that flowed down and across the downs at strange angles. It was such a peaceful procession, that actually reaching the peak of the plain was somewhat of a surprise. The pinnacle stretched out before them for a hundred yards, before beginning the descent into a valley below.

 

 "Wow, just look at that," Dean whispered softly as the caravan came to a halt and they all surveyed the territory in front of them. The far side of the valley was a much shallower incline, leading on to lands beyond. They could see the remains of old roads in the distance and the marked-out remnants of arable fields and pasture. At one time, before the nukecaust, this land had been prime farming acreage and had road contacts to villes that may lay beyond, which were still possibly extant and served by trade convoys.

 

 "Now that looks good to me," Mildred said to Sineta. "What do you think?"

 

 "I think that it may be what we are looking for," the baron said on reflection. "It has farming possibilities and the space to build a new settlement. Moreover, it is not at present populated, so we will not be intruding on another ville's space and sparking conflict that we can ill afford while still settling."

 

 "All in all, sounds perfect," Mildred mused.

 

 "Perhaps it will be," the baron said softly. "Perhaps for all of us?"

 

 "That I couldn't say," Mildred replied in as noncommittal a tone as possible, for she had just noticed that J.B. and Ryan were conferring about something they had seen down in the valley.

 

 The caravan began its descent down the soft slope toward the floor of the long valley, and the perfect settling lands that lay there. Ryan beckoned to Mildred to join them. As she did, he indicated a small crevice in the land that lay about three miles to their left, at the join of the incline to the valley floor. Casting her eyes over it, Mildred could see that it had all the recognizable hallmarks of a hidden redoubt. To most eyes, it would look like nothing more than a small rock indent in the land, but the trained observer would be able to tell the camouflage around a redoubt entrance. Some may have been stripped of this after skydark, but this one still retained its disguise.

 

 "We'll tell them tonight when we rest and then strike out for it tomorrow," Ryan told her. "We've got a few things we need to sort out among ourselves," he continued with a meaningful glance at Sharona and Dean, before adding, "That's if you want to come with us."

 

 Mildred smiled wryly. "I've made my choice, Ryan."

 

 The caravan continued until the twilight, when they established camp for the night. After they had eaten, Ryan joined Markos, Sineta and Mildred.

 

 "I've got something to tell you," he began. "Come first light, we'll be moving on."

 

 "But where to?" Markos answered, bewildered. "I can see nothing around here that could distract you from our shared path."

 

 "There's something. Something to do with following the dream, I suppose." Ryan smiled when he saw the sec boss's uncomprehending expression. "It's something we have to do. Besides, we have our own problems to contend with and we need to be able to concentrate on those."

 

 Sineta nodded. "It must be difficult, with the boy's mother appearing as if from nowhere. But we will miss you—all of you," she added pointedly, looking at Mildred.

 

 "You mean you will be going with them?" Markos asked Mildred. When Mildred nodded, he said, "I wish you would reconsider…all of you." With which he stood and walked away from them.

 

 "I didn't figure we were that important," a mystified Ryan said, half joking.

 

 "I think it may be more than that," Sineta replied perceptively, indicating that Mildred should go after him.

 

 Mildred got to her feet and walked after the sec boss, who stood on the verge of the camp, looking out into the night. He turned as he saw her approach.

 

 "I don't think there is anything more that can be said really, is there?" he asked.

 

 "Maybe." Mildred shrugged. "But maybe you should know that this is the hardest decision I've ever had to make. And if you had the slightest idea of how weird and strange my life has been next to yours, you'd know how deep that cuts."

 

 "Then why are you going?"

 

 "Because I have to. I know we both pulled back from each other, but maybe something could have happened if I stayed."

 

 "So why don't you?" There was pain and anger mixed in his tone.

 

 "Because I have other loyalties that cut me deeper still. Not just to J.B., but to all of them. We've got bonds and ties that were forged in fire, and you can't walk away from those."

 

 "And, in truth, I would not expect you to," he said softly before walking away from her.

 

 WHEN THE MORNING CAME, the companions prepared to leave and the entire tribe rose to wish them well. As they made to leave, Sineta approached them.

 

 "Words are so easy and seem so pointless at a time like this," she began, "but nonetheless, I feel it is important that I say this. Without you, we would still have had to leave Pilatu and begin again, but it would have been a harder, more costly experience. We owe you much, and we will never forget you." The baron embraced Mildred, her eyes filled with tears of regret. The companions parted company with Pilatu. In the end, it was as simple as walking in a different direction to the caravan, which began to move off and down into the valley, searching for a spot to begin building.

 

 Markos didn't watch the companions leave and Mildred didn't look for him.

 

 After they had walked some distance, they stopped to rest. The redoubt could still be reached before nightfall. Mildred turned to look back to see the Pilatan caravan stretching out across the valley floor. J.B. came up to her, standing behind and resting his hands lightly on her shoulders.

 

 "They'll be fine. Good people with good leaders," he said at length. When Mildred didn't reply, he said after a pause, "Millie, tell me honestly, did you really want to go with them? I mean, are you with us because of the past and not the future? I mean—"

 

 She turned and silenced him by putting her fingers to his lips.

 

 "John," she said softly, "when have you ever known me to do anything that I didn't feel was the right thing? The right thing for me, and for those who I want around me," she added, stressing the last half of the sentence.

 

 The Armorer started to answer, but before he could speak she shook her head.

 

 "Never," she whispered. "And that still stands."

 

 THEY MADE THE REDOUBT by nightfall. The recessed entrance was shut tight. Without an exterior trigger it was a problem as to how they would gain entry. But not a problem that hadn't been considered.

 

 "Jak, you remember we've been to redoubts that had vents for their air conditioning and cleaning systems?" Ryan asked. When the albino youth nodded, the one-eyed man continued, "Do you reckon these vents would have maintenance and service hatches?"

 

 "Remember climbing down one," Jak replied. "Just need find it."

 

 Without another word, Ryan followed Jak as the albino scaled the shallow wall of rock around the recessed entrance. The two men scoured the top of the small plateau formed in the side of the valley by the redoubt entrance, moving out of sight of the rest of the companions.

 

 "What the hell are they doing?" Sharona complained.

 

 "Trying to get us in," Krysty snapped in a tone that would brook no argument, causing Mildred and J.B. to exchange glances.

 

 Meanwhile, on top of the plateau, Ryan and Jak were searching in the fading light for signs of a venting system.

 

 "Usually hidden by rock pile," Jak indicated. "And has narrow channel into service tunnel."

 

 "You think you'll have any trouble getting past the rad shielding?" Ryan queried, knowing from past experience that the maintenance shafts were gated by lead-lined, airtight doors.

 

 Jak shook his head. "Never locked, just tight stop air. Not trust stupe sec with codes and keys." He grinned. "Most seals rubber and rotted—" He broke off as he found the vent. "Here."

 

 Ryan joined the albino youth and helped him move the rock pile that had been carefully placed more than a hundred years previously to cover the vent outlet. The movement of the earth after skydark had only helped to camouflage the vent, as more rocks had moved onto the pile. It was almost completely dark as they finished removing the obstruction. Below, the rest of the companions waited patiently—with the exception of Sharona—for word from above.

 

 Jak looked up at the night sky. It was clear, with a crescent moon that cast a wan light over the land.

 

 "Go back, Ryan. Tell others what's happening. See you soon," he added with a grin that split his white, scarred face as he slid down into the vent.

 

 The one-eyed man watched him go, then carefully descended to the entrance below. While he outlined the situation, Jak wormed his way through the vent.

 

 It was tight and pitch dark. It was only the albino's wiry frame and the fact that his pigmentless eyes could adapt to almost zero levels of light that enabled him to make progress and marked him as the only one of the companions who could have fulfilled this task. He squirmed and wriggled down the narrow vent, the heat soon building up around him despite the constant up-rush of expelled air from the conditioner, making him sweat heavily, a sweat that was dried by the rushing air before it reached his eyes, the eyeballs gritty and sore in the constant flow of arid air.

 

 As he made progress, his fingers sought the telltale impress of the service hatches. The panic of enclosure was beginning to prick at the edges of his mind—how could he go backward in this tight, downward vent if he didn't find a way into the service hatches—as his fingers found that for which he sought. Prizing the hatch open, so that it fell down across the vent, temporarily blocking the flow, he found that he had been right about the rubber seals. Wasting no time, lest the open hatch door caused a blowback in the conditioning system, he pulled himself into the service tunnel and reached down to pull the door shut

 

 The maintenance tunnel was lit by a low level red strip and had a larger circumference than the vent. Jak was able to relax and breathe more easily for a second before beginning the long haul into the redoubt. It was easier, but finding his way around the maze of service tunnels would take time. It was almost impossible to get totally lost, as he would emerge somewhere in the redoubt, but he wanted to come as near to the surface level as possible. There was no way of knowing if the redoubt was inhabited in any way, and he was keen to adopt any measure that would reduce risk.

 

 In a short time, Jak dropped back into the air conditioning system so that he could wriggle to a vent and make a recce. It was important that he find out where he was and if he could see any signs of life. The vent showed him he was in an upper level, near old admin offices.

 

 He stilled himself as much as possible and listened carefully. There was nothing. Sniffing the air, Jak found it was stale. Every instinct told him the redoubt was empty. But he still refused to take chances. Moving back into the maintenance tunnels, he found an exit on the same level and cautiously emerged into the body of the redoubt, his Colt Python ready to hand.

 

 He was more relaxed by the time he had traveled from the service hatch to the main redoubt door. There were no signs of life and no signs that the redoubt had been occupied since predark times. He keyed in the sec code to open the door and greeted the companions with a rare smile.

 

 "All ours."

 

 RYAN OPTED to wait a few days before they made a mat-trans jump. Rather than keep traveling across open country for who knew how long, he figured that they could take their chances with the random setting of the mat-trans, and find out where it took them. But first he wanted them to rest. As the redoubt was still well stocked and in good working order, it would be an opportunity to rest and recuperate before taking their chances with fate once more. Showering, changing and finding the dorms in good order, they rested, leaving everything to the morrow.

 

 And there was something left that had to be tackled soon. Sharona had been distancing herself from the rest of the companions while they traveled with the Pilatans, only really associating with Dean. If she was going to travel with them, then it was important that this rift be healed. And if not…

 

 But there would be time to deal with that the following day, the one-eyed man thought as he lay awake, trying to figure out what the shocking return of Dean's mother meant.

 

 The next day brought no solutions. Ryan awakened to find the others had already risen. After showering, he walked to the kitchen where he found Mildred, Krysty, Doc and Jak.

 

 "Where are the others?" he asked as he prepared his breakfast from an array of self-heats.

 

 "John's gone to check out the armory," Mildred said with an indulgent expression crossing her face. "You know what he's like."

 

 Ryan returned the expression. "Yeah, he must've been worn out last night, because he didn't go straight to it." Then, after a pause, he added, "What about Dean and Sharona?"

 

 Krysty grimaced. "I don't know—anyone else?" she queried, but was met with blank looks from Mildred, Jak and Doc. "They were up before either of us, but where they are…"

 

 Ryan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose she can't be doing any harm."

 

 Doc was bemused. "My dear boy, why would the woman want to do harm? She thought she would perish and sent her son away. Then, when she recovered, he was gone from her. Is it not natural that she should want to spend time with the boy? And, vice versa, as it were? That is, that he should wish to spend time with her," he added by way of explanation when he saw that the old Latin term meant nothing to Krysty, Jak or Ryan.

 

 "That's a fair enough point, but it's not so much the time…" Ryan began, petering out with a shrug as he found he couldn't exactly explain what he meant.

 

 Krysty finished for him, "It's more a matter of her attitude about things."

 

 Mildred looked at Krysty closely. "You sure it's her that's the problem? I mean, are you certain that you don't just feel a little put out because she's suddenly appeared?"

 

 Krysty frowned and looked at Mildred. The question could almost be insulting, if not for the depth of expression in the black woman's brown eyes, eyes that showed her understanding.

 

 "Yeah, mebbe a little," Krysty admitted. "But I've thought about that, and there's more."

 

 "Get bad feeling," Jak chipped in, breaking his silence. "Pulling Dean away from us. His choice, but not good when we fight or stand together."

 

 "Exactly," Ryan agreed. "Before we leave here, we have to sort out what's going on between us all. We have to pull in the same direction or else—"

 

 "Or else all strength is dissipated," Doc said sadly.

 

 Oblivious to all this, Dean and Sharona were on a lower level of the redoubt. The woman had awakened her son early and, after making him breakfast—a rare treat for Dean, who had to fend for himself along with the other companions—had asked him to show her around the redoubt and had listened carefully while he told her all he knew about them.

 

 "It's incredible to believe that there are so many of these old predark places across the land, and that despite that so few have found them," she said to him.

 

 "Yeah, but most of them are so well hidden or disguised that you have to know that they're there," Dean told her, pleased to see his mother attentive to his every word. "The only reason we're using them is that Doc, Dad and J.B. found one. And unlike most people who ever found them, they don't just loot them. They're interested in working out how to use the mat-trans."

 

 "The what?"

 

 Dean smiled. "That's the really great part. The mat-trans is how we travel. It's an old comp system that kind of breaks you up into little bits, then shoots you across Deathlands to another chamber where you get put back together again. Of course, it's a bit more complex than that."

 

 Sharona shook her head. "Those whitecoats before the nukecaust sure were sick bastards."

 

 "I don't know," Dean said, his face falling. "It's not so bad."

 

 Seeing how her son was crestfallen, Sharona added quickly, "Well, I guess it depends how you use it. I mean, if you can use it to go where you want…"

 

 Dean grimaced. "I didn't exactly say that." And when she gave him a questioning gaze, he continued. "The thing is, it's kind of random. We know how to trigger it, but there aren't any manuals or instructions for how to get past the sec codes in the comps to programme a destination, and they have this random setting where every time you trigger the chamber, it'll send you a different place. If I could work out the sec fail safe, then we'd really be able to use it for wherever we want. But now it's kind of wherever it sends us."

 

 "So you don't actually know where you're going."

 

 "No," he admitted.

 

 "And you couldn't replicate a jump from here?"

 

 "No," he said, a little puzzled. "But why would you want to?"

 

 "I didn't say you would. I was just pointing out that mebbe you need to do a little more work on this old tech. And mebbe your dad doesn't really give you that time."

 

 "What do you mean?" Dean queried.

 

 Sharona shrugged. "Well, it seems like he's always keen to move on all the time. Mebbe it wouldn't hurt just to stand still for a while. That's what I'd like—a chance to stay and just get to know you again."

 

 "But you'll get to know me the longer you stay with us," Dean said in a tone of voice that indicated he thought it was obvious.

 

 Sharona grimaced. "I really don't know if I can travel with you."

 

 Dean was shocked. "But you said—"

 

 "I know what I said, but the truth of the matter is that I just can't see me getting on with your father or with Krysty. They're suspicious of me, and mebbe they're right to be. After all, they've been looking after you for one hell of a time, and where have I been?"

 

 "But that wasn't your fault!"

 

 "Doesn't matter. It's not a question of fault. It's just a fact that they've been there and I haven't. Which means that I resent them for that, even though it's not something they did on purpose, and they resent me for suddenly appearing, even though I didn't plan it this way. That's just the way it is."

 

 "Yeah, I guess so," Dean said softly. "I just figured everyone would be as pleased as I was."

 

 "Never mind." Sharona ruffled his hair. "Sometimes things just don't go as you planned them. You should know that by now!"

 

 "Guess not. So what do you want to see next?" he added in a bright voice, trying to change the subject.

 

 "I don't know. You decide," his mother replied.

 

 Dean took Sharona by the hand and led her out of the mat-trans control room, not noticing the way she looked back over her shoulder with a thoughtful expression.

 

 "IT DOESN'T MATTER what you say, we have to move sooner or later," Ryan said in an exasperated voice. "Fireblast and fuck it, haven't you listened to a thing anyone has said?"

 

 "Yeah, I've listened, and it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, if you ask me," Sharona snapped. "For someone who's a leader, you don't have much in the way of ideas, do you?"

 

 The companions and Sharona were gathered in one of the old briefing rooms. By J.B. and Ryan's chrons as well as those in the redoubt, it was midafternoon, but in the disorienting environment of the redoubt, where light was controlled by the flick of a switch, it could have been any time. And it felt like any time as once again Ryan's attempts to marshal forces and move on were being interrupted by Sharona.

 

 The redoubt had been thoroughly investigated, and although the air conditioning and electrical plant were in good order, and would keep going indefinitely, there was little doubt that the supplies were limited. Food and self-heats were in sufficient quantity to sustain the companions for a couple of weeks and then leave nothing to carry away with them, or they could be used as traveling supplies if the companions began their journey immediately. The med bay had been stripped of anything useful by Mildred and deposited in a satchel she had found, and the armory used by J.B. to replenish their supplies of ammo, plas ex and grens. Beyond that, there was nothing left in the redoubt that was of much use. Old vid machines could have taught them something about the redoubt base and the surrounding area, if not for the fact that all the tapes remaining were sec camera recordings, showing nothing but an empty base.

 

 So it wasn't just the pressing matter of the supplies that prompted Ryan to suggest a move from the redoubt—boredom was also a factor. And, if he was truly honest with himself, he didn't feel comfortable about how much Dean was sticking to Sharona. It felt as if he were losing his son again, and the longer they rested in the redoubt, the more of the boy she could steal. At least if they were on the move, they would be operating as a unit.

 

 But when he had called them together and suggested the move, Sharona had been immediately divisive. Of course there was no plan beyond making a jump; how could there be? Everyone knew that you couldn't plan for what you didn't know, simply from experience. But Sharona wouldn't allow for that.

 

 The thing Ryan couldn't decide was whether she was doing it to be deliberately destructive or whether she just didn't understand. He looked around at the others, hoping someone else would take up his argument, so that it wouldn't seem to be a mother-father divide to Dean, which he suspected was part of her point.

 

 His glance around the room spurred Mildred to speak.

 

 "I think it's really unfair of you to say that about Ryan's abilities as leader," she began, picking her words carefully so as not to appear hostile. "There can never be an advanced plan when making a mat-trans jump, and the proof of a leader is in the ability to marshal forces and think on your feet when problems arise. And I guess the proof of Ryan's ability to do that is that we're all still here, aren't we?"

 

 There was a murmur of agreement.

 

 "But why do we have to put ourselves in that situation?" Sharona continued. "Why didn't we just go along with the Pilatans?"

 

 "Because we have to follow our star, somewhere over the rainbow," Doc said sagely, giving a glimmer of meaning to words that had Sharona looking puzzled. He continued. "Until we find our dream, that is."

 

 "Crazy words, but right," Jak agreed. "Look for something never find with Pilatans."

 

 "But there must be a better way of doing it than risking our lives every time you use that damn machine," Sharona said in exasperation.

 

 "How?" J.B. asked reasonably. "How else can we cover such distances with such speed?"

 

 "Well, who says you have to cover the distances at all, especially when you don't know where you're going. And it's not just your lives you're risking, it's my son's," she added, storming out of the room.

 

 Dean shot an accusatory glance at the rest of them as he followed, to calm his mother.

 

 Krysty screwed up her face. "Well, that went well. You know, I really don't think she wants to get along with us."

 

 Mildred shook her head. "I'd figure it's more definite than that—and we should keep an eye on the bitch."

 

 "DEAN, WAKE UP. Quickly."

 

 The words were urgently whispered and accompanied by a shake on the shoulder that jolted the youth from slumber. Blearily he looked up and saw his mother standing over him and looking scared.

 

 "Wha…what's the matter?" he asked in a sleep slurred voice as he sat upright.

 

 "I think we've got a problem," she whispered urgently by way of reply. "I don't think you're the only ones who've managed to work out how to use the mat-trans. I was down there, and I heard it in operation."

 

 "Hot pipe! I know we've come across others who can, but what were you doing down there?" he asked suddenly, realizing the strangeness of the situation.

 

 "I couldn't sleep. I was just wandering. I think I went down there because I could feel there was something wrong, I don't know."

 

 Thoughts raced through Dean's mind. Maybe she did go down there because she could feel something. And there were others, as they well knew, who could use the mat-trans. The odds against two sets of travelers ending up in the same redoubt were huge, but not impossible. So if that had happened, then he'd better get the others.

 

 Dean struggled out of bed, flung on his clothes and checked his Browning Hi-Power.

 

 "Come on, hurry up," Sharona whispered from the doorway.

 

 "Better wake up the others," Dean said, still not completely awake—otherwise he would have wondered why his mother was whispering when she could have awakened the others with a shout. They were on another level to the mat-trans and there was little chance of alerting any intruders to their presence from here.

 

 "Do you really need them?" Sharona asked. "By the time we've roused them all it could be too late. Besides, I'm sure you don't need them. We've got the element of surprise."

 

 Dean furrowed his brow. That was true, he guessed. They should be able to outfight any opposing forces if they got them trapped in the mat-trans chamber.

 

 And it would give him a chance to prove himself to his mother.

 

 Dean followed Sharona to the elevator, waiting beside her in silence until it reached the level of the mat-trans chamber. He could think of nothing to say, still trying to clear his head of sleep.

 

 They came out of the elevator and made their way to the comp room swiftly, using the buttresses on the corridor walls for cover. Dean could hear nothing that would indicate any intruders, but he just figured that whoever they were, they had not, as yet, left the anteroom. If they were anything like the companions, they would be taking this slowly.

 

 That would mean time for Sharona and himself to mount an attack.

 

 They reached the door to the comp room, which was open. Sharona made to move forward and recce the room, but was stayed by a gesture from Dean.

 

 "I'll check—cover me," he mouthed.

 

 Heart thumping as the adrenaline kicked into his system, Dean moved across to the doorway and risked a look inside the room. It was quiet and seemingly empty—but he could see through to the anteroom and noted the door of the chamber was ajar. It was possible that the intruders were still in the chamber itself.

 

 He backed away so that he could speak to Sharona. He took command, and was glad to do so, as it was a way of showing his mother how much he had developed since they were last together.

 

 "There's no one visible in the comp room or anteroom—they must still be in the chamber. We'll move in, me first, and use the comp consoles for cover. Make our way around so that we flank the chamber. Then you cover me while I take it."

 

 "You sure about this?" Sharona asked.

 

 Dean wasn't sure how to answer. He could see a mixture of emotions in her eyes. On the one hand, she didn't want him to risk his life, but on the other she was proud of the man, and the warrior, that he had become.

 

 "Yeah, I'm sure. Let's do it," he said firmly.

 

 Dean entered the room first, using a comp terminal to shield himself while his mother covered him from the door. Then she entered, covered by the Browning Hi-Power. In this way, they made their way toward the chamber and its open door.

 

 Now flanking the chamber, Dean looked across at his mother, nodding curtly as he made the last move. While she covered him, he kicked the door fully open, so that the backswing would immobilize anyone behind the door, and entered the chamber, finger poised on the trigger.

 

 The chamber was empty.

 

 "There's no one—" he began, turning as Sharona entered the chamber.

 

 She swung the door shut before he had a chance to register what was going on. The lock clicked softly, triggering the mat-trans process. The disks on the floor began to glow and a mist rose in vaporous streamers around them.

 

 "What are you—" he began, but was cut short by Sharona.

 

 "I'm sorry, baby. It's the only way I can do this," she said, shaking her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Forgive me. It'll be for the best, you'll see."

 

 Dean didn't have time to fully assimilate what was happening before the rapidly accelerating mat-trans process made him feel light headed and sick.

 

 His last thought as he began to black out was that there had to have been another way.

 

 "RYAN!" KRYSTY YELLED as she jolted awake. Her dreams had become nightmares and she had a sense of foreboding.

 

 The one-eyed man sat bolt upright, and looked at her.

 

 "What?" he snapped, concerned.

 

 Krysty looked at him. "It's Dean. And it's something bad," she said quickly. "I don't know what, but—"

 

 "Nothing would surprise me about Sharona," Ryan said curtly as he got out of bed and pulled on his clothes. "I'm going to check on them."

 

 Krysty was dressed by the time he returned and his expression did little to allay her sense of dread.

 

 "They're not in their room. I'll wake the others."

 

 Ryan roused the rest of the companions and, in varying states of wakefulness, they turned out from their dorms. He explained briefly, as Krysty emerged into the corridor, and was about to split them into pairs for a search, when the woman broke into his instructions.

 

 "No need. I think I know."

 

 In truth, Ryan had already guessed but didn't want to admit it to himself as the companions followed Krysty to the gateway.

 

 The mat-trans chamber itself was still glowing slightly.

 

 "Dark night, why would she do that?" J.B. asked. "And why would Dean go with her?"

 

 Mildred shrugged. "She might have tricked him."

 

 "Or perhaps the boy had made a decision to go with his mother," Doc said sadly.

 

 Jak shook his head. "Not without telling us."

 

 Krysty agreed. "Whatever Dean had decided, if it was entirely his choice, he would have talked to us about it. It just doesn't feel right, not this way."

 

 "It doesn't matter," Ryan croaked in a harsh, broken tone. "Whatever happened, Dean must have told her about the last-destination button and the time restriction.

 

 "The bitch knows we can't follow her. I've lost him."