***
A howled battlecry was echoed by massed voices and a squad of D’zertanoj burst in through the entrance, and at the same instant the rear of the leather wall went down and more armed men swarmed over it. The immobile caroj was trapped between the two groups of attackers who laughed happily as they charged. Jason cursed and lit four molotails at the same time and hurled them two and two in opposite directions. Before they hit he had jumped to the steam valve and wound it open; with a hissing clank the caroj shuddered and got underway.
For the moment the attackers were held back by the walls of flame and screamed even louder as the machine moved away at right angles from between their two groups. The air whistled with crossbow bolts, but most were badly aimed and only a few thudded into the baggage. With each revolution of the wheels their speed picked up and when they hit the walls the hides parted with a creaking snap. Strips of leather whipped at them, then they were through.
The shouts and the fires grew dimmer behind them as they streaked down the valley at a suicidal pace, hissing, rattling and crashing over the bumps. Jason clung to the tiller and shouted for Mikah to come relieve him, since if he let go of the thing they would turn and crash in an instant, and as long as he held it he couldn’t cut down the steam. Some of this finally penetrated to Mikah because he crawled forward grasping desperately to every hand-hold until he crouched beside Jason.
“Grab this tiller and hold it straight and steer around anything big enough to see.”
As soon as the steering was taken over Jason worked his way back to the engine and throttled down; they slowed to a clanking walk then stopped completely. Ijale moaned and Jason felt as if every inch of his body had been beaten with hammers. There was no sign of pursuit since it would be at least an hour before they could raise steam in the caroj and no one on foot could have possibly matched their headlong pace. The lantern he had used earlier had vanished during the wild ride so Jason dug out another one of his own construction.
“On your feet, Snarbi,” he ordered. “I’ve cracked us all out of slavery so now it is time for you to do some of the guiding that you were telling me about. Walk ahead with this light and pick out a nice smooth track going in the right direction. I never did have a chance to build headlights for this machine so you will have to do instead.”
Snarbi climbed down unsteadily and walked out in front. Jason opened the valve a bit and they clattered forward on his trail as Mikah turned the tiller to follow. Ijale crawled over and settled herself against Jason’s side, shivering with cold and fright. He patted her shoulder.
“Relax,” he said, “from now on this is just a pleasure trip.”
X
They were six days out of Putl’ko and their supplies were almost exhausted. The country, once they were away from the mountains, became more fertile, an undulating pampas of grass with enough streams and herds of beasts to assure that they did not starve. It was fuel that mattered, and that afternoon Jason had opened their last jar. They stopped a few hours before dark since their fresh meat was gone, and Snarbi took the crossbow and went out to shoot something for the pot. Since he was the only one who could handle the clumsy weapon with any kind of skill in spite of his ocular deficiencies, and who knew about the local game, this task had been assigned to him. With longer contact his fear of the caroj had lessened, and his self-esteem rose at his recognized ability as a hunter. He strolled arrogantly out into the knee-high grass, crossbow over his shoulder, whistling tunelessly through his teeth. Jason stared after him and once again felt a growing unease.
“I don’t trust that wall-eyed mercenary, I don’t trust him for one second,” he muttered.
“Were you talking to me?” Mikah asked.
“I wasn’t but I might as well now. Have you noticed anything interesting about the country we have been passing through, anything different?”
“Nothing. It is a wilderness, untouched by the hand of man.”
“Then you must be blind, because I have been seeing things the last two days, and I know just as little about woodcraft as you do. Ijale,” he called, and she looked up from the boiler over which she was heating a thin stew of their last krenoj. “Leave that stuff, it tastes just as bad whatever is done to it, and if Snarbi has any luck we’ll be having roast in any case. Tell me, have you seen anything strange or different about the land we passed through today.”
“Nothing strange, just signs of people. Twice we passed places where the grass was flat and branches broken as if a caroj passed two or three days ago, maybe more. And once there was a place where someone had built a cooking fire, but that was very old.”
“Nothing to be seen, Mikah?” Jason asked with raised eyebrows. “See what a lifetime of krenoj hunting can do for the sense of observation and terrain.”
“I am no savage. You cannot expect me to look out for that sort of thing.”
“I don’t. I have learned to expect very little from you beside trouble. Only now I am going to need your help. This is Snarbi’s last night of freedom whether he knows it or not, and I don’t want him standing guard tonight, so you and I will split the shift.”
Mikah was astonished. “I do not understand. What do you mean this is his last night of freedom?”
“It should be obvious by now — even to you — after seeing how the social ethic works on this planet. What did you think we were going to do when we came to Appsala — follow Snarbi like sheep to the slaughter? I have no idea what he is planning. I just know he must be planning something. When I ask him about the city he only answers in generalities. Of course he is a hired mercenary who wouldn’t know too much of the details, but he must know a lot more than he is telling us. He says we are still four days away from the city. My guess is that we are no more than one or two. In the morning I intend to grab him and tie him up, then swing over to those hills there and find a place to hole up. I’ll fix some chains for Snarbi so he can’t get away, then I’ll do a scout of the city….”
“You are going to chain this poor man, make a slave of him for no reason!”
“I’m not going to make a slave of him, just chain him to make sure he doesn’t lead us into some trap that will benefit him. This souped-up caroj is valuable enough to tempt any of the locals, and if he can sell me as an engine-mechanic slave his fortune is made.”
***
“I will not hear this!” Mikah stormed. “You condemn the man on no evidence at all, just because of your nasty minded suspicions. Judge not lest ye be judged yourself! And you play the hypocrite as well, because I well remember your telling me that a man is innocent until proven guilty.”
“Well this man is guilty, if you want to put it that way, guilty of being a member of this broken down society, which means that he will always act in certain ways at certain times. Haven’t you learned anything about these people yet? Ijale!” She looked up from contented munching on a krenoj, obviously not listening to the argument. “Tell me, what is your opinion? We are coming soon to a place where Snarbi has friends, or people who will help him. What do you think he will do?”
“Say hello to the people he knows? Maybe they will give him a krenoj.” She smiled in satisfaction at her answer and took another bite.
“That’s not quite what I had in mind,” Jason said patiently. “What if we three are with him when we come to the people, and the people see us and the caroj….”