“Then, what power does Cromwell have?”
“He could get us all killed. With high tech weapons he is sure to try to destroy Proctors. It might be that he could become just enough of an irritant to get himself flattened.”
“A good thing, surely?”
“One microbe or the whole Petri dish. The laws are for a reason. We are here on sufferance. The population stricture should have told you enough. The people killed when the population tops two billion are not the idiots who can’t control their gonads and there is no enforced birth-control or sterilisation unless we do it. The Owner’s message in this should be evident: We keep our own house in order. I have a horrible feeling, no, I am certain, that if Cromwell starts killing Proctors then the Proctors will start killing back, and they won’t stop.”
Bradebus the tracker was the most irascible old man Lumi had ever known. He was also reputedly the best tracker known and had often helped the Constabulary find criminals who had fled into the wilder.
“Who you after then?” the old man asked, scratching at a ragged mess of a beard. Brown looked to Lumi then said, “Cromwell.”
“Ah! Got something on the bastard then?”
“You could say that. He’s gone into the wilder with many of his people. We want to catch up with them as soon as possible.”
“Who’s going?”
“Myself, Chief Scientist Lumi here, and fifteen constables.”
“When did he go?”
“This morning.”
Bradebus stared at Lumi calculatingly then gulped down the rest of his glass of whisky. The barman waddled forward and immediately refilled the glass.
“We want to leave as soon as possible,” said Lumi.
Bradebus took a gulp from his glass and grinned. “Oh, we’ll catch up all right. Can’t say we’ll take him by surprise though, not with fifteen clod-hoppers along.”
“The men are ready now,” said Brown to Lumi.
Bradebus said, “You know more or less what direction he took?”
“Yes,” said Brown.
“You go along then. I’ll catch you directly.”
“This is important, Bradebus,” said Brown.
“It always is,” said the tracker, turning his back on them.
The edge of the wilder was marked by a line of black metal posts. On one side of this line were arable fields and lands for livestock, on the other side the deep woodland that was the wilder itself. The bus drew to a halt in a circular parking area, in which the road terminated, and Lumi and the constables disembarked. The men and women were all in field kit and carried an assortment of weapons. Lumi was in his hiking gear and carried no weapons. Brown was quick to remark on this.
“Sir, I would feel better if you carried this,” he said, and handed over a pistol belt. Lumi drew the weapon and inspected it. It was a ten-bore revolver with eight chambers. A weapon you only needed to hit a man with once. Lumi considered rejecting it then changed his mind. Such an act might have been admirable in some circles, but here and now it would have been foolish. He strapped the weapon on and observed the constables unloading more powerful armament.
“What’s that?”
“Missile launcher,” said Brown. “If he gets to the ship and takes it up…” Brown did not need to elaborate. “Okay, let’s go,” he said to his men. And they walked between the black posts into the wood. This close to the perimeter there were many well-trodden paths. They moved at a slow pace following the main track Cromwell’s group had reportedly followed. By evening they had not left that track, and stopped at a well-used camp site.
“We’ll wait here for him,” said Lumi, and went to set up his tent. Before retiring he ate a meal with the ten men and five women under Brown’s command, drank tea, and listened to Brown briefing them. They had known nothing of their mission prior to entering the wilder.
The night sounds kept Lumi awake for some time and in the full dark he heard the arrival of Bradebus announced by the guards. He slid out of his sleeping bag and after pulling on some clothing went out to see the man. The night was lit by the second and third moons; one a pitted and dented thing that was called the Old Man, the other a mirror-bright sphere that had acquired no name. It was simply called the Third Moon.
The tracker was dressed in clothing made from animal skins and wore a long coat of bear fur. He carried a short hunting carbine, a knife nearer the size of a machete, and two pistols holstered at his belt. He was squatted by the remains of the fire when Lumi saw him.
“We didn’t expect you until the morning,” commented Lumi by way of something to say. Bradebus nodded. “Morning we go off the track to the north. Should catch up with them a bit. Loop in the track.” He poked at the fire with a stick.
“Is that a good idea? They might turn off.”
Bradebus studied him estimatingly. “They’re out here after something. If it was close I’d have known about it by now. Must be in the deep wilder. They’ll stay on the main track.” He continued staring at Lumi, waiting.
Lumi nodded and returned to his tent. He was not yet ready to tell the tracker what this was all about. Morning was yet to make its presence felt when Brown called outside Lumi’s tent then went on to rouse his constables. Lumi swore, stuck his head out into the darkness, then checked the luminous dial of his watch. An hour until sunrise. When they set out the foliage above had become distinguishable from the sky, and it was just possible not to walk into the trees when Bradebus led them off the track. They had travelled for an hour more before the birds started singing, and travelled for three more hours before stopping to remove rations from their packs to eat while they walked. Lumi noticed that Bradebus watched this with amusement, then wandered on chewing at a piece of jerky that smelt suspect, and washing this down with gulps from his hip flask. At midday Lumi went up to walk beside him.
“Ready to tell me what it’s all about?” asked the tracker, his words only slightly slurred.
“A spaceship has landed in the wilder. Cromwell has the pilot. We think he is after weapons.” Bradebus nodded. “Lot of Proctor activity around here lately.” Lumi did not know what to make of that.
Shortly after this they rejoined the the main track and the tracker pointed at the signs of a large groups passing that way. “Gained about two hours on them,” he said.
Lumi wondered if it would be enough. Another day’s march and they would be getting into the deep wilder. They camped part way into the night, when they were all too tired to make good time, and when blade beetles started to be attracted to the lamps they carried. One man required stitches in his upper arm before he could go to his tent.
Lumi woke and did not know why. Had there been a sound? With utmost caution he pulled the revolver from its holster and slid out of his tent into the night.
“Everything all right?” he asked the guard.
The woman glanced at him then looked back out into the darkness. “The tracker went out there a moment ago. Don’t know what he’s up to,” she said.
“Which direction?”
The woman pointed.
“I’ll just go and take a look.”
Lumi walked out into the wood as the woman muttered something about ‘shitting in the trees’. Yes, that could be the reason the old man had gone out, but Lumi found he entertained suspicions about the old man. Might he be in the employ of Cromwell? Might he be leading them astray? Ahead of him he heard the rustle of leaves. He moved towards it, saw a flicker of blue light, moved towards that. As he drew closer the light grew brighter. There was an area of blue light, a huge shape moving about in it. A hand caught him by the shoulder and a hand closed over his mouth.