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That leaves Pollard and Salvo, since you couldn't break your habit of not
chilling Mags."
"I may not have chilled him, but the condition he's in, he couldn't jockey
himself to the can. What about that new guy, Zack?"
Grant shrugged. "Zack's only in pilot's training, but they might press him
into service."
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"So, worst case is a pair of Birds, one piloted by a novice. Time factor?"
"Let's cut ourselves a break and hope it takes a minimum of an hour before
Salvo and others are found and taken back to the division. Factor in another
forty-five minutes before the Birds can be crewed and launched."
"Leaving us approximately two hours before we have to worry. But only half a
minute to agree on a destination and a route."
Grant said, "Guana had a plan to hit the hellzone in Mesa Verde. He figured no
one would want to look for him there."
"Not for him, maybe," replied Kane. "They'll be looking for us no matter where
we go. Besides, there are no roads into Mesa Verde."
"Don't need no roads if you know the way," declared Domi.
The wag hit the base of a bluff and jarred everyone, dragging a pained curse
out of Grant. "At the speed we're traveling," he commented, "two hours is
barely enough time to reach the Outlands, much less the zone."
Kane tapped the side of his helmet. "I'll be able to pick up the comm link
transmissions when they're three miles away, assuming they don't rescramble
the frequency. We'll have a few minutes' warning, at least."
"What good will going into a hellzone do?" Brigid demanded. "You didn't save
me from a quick death just so I can contract rad cancer and die slow, did
you?"
"No, I didn't." Kane looked at her. Brigid's hair was tangled and disarrayed,
and her lips were compressed and white with fear. He grinned.
"What's so funny?" she asked irritably.
"Remember what I said about surprising you?"
"So?"
"So, Baptisteprepare yourself for a very big surprise. Maybe the biggest one
of your life."
"After what I've just been through," she retorted, "it'll have to be
gargantuan to impress me."
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Chapter Twenty-Four
The Sandcat was a miserable conveyance, especially traveling over rough
terrain. Domi completely circumvented the single road from the ville, opting
to drive along gullies and coulees. The old vehicle groaned a perpetual
protest from every joint, seam and rivet. Many of the wag's metal tread
sections were worn to thin wafers, and the racket made by the return rollers
was incessant, as was the clatter from the diesel engine.
Brigid treated Grant's wound as best she could from materials in the medical
kit stowed under the driver's seat. His pain was evident as she swabbed the
shallow gouge with antiseptic and sprinkled sulfa powder into it. There were
ampoules of morphine in the kit, but Grant refused them, saying he needed to
keep a clear head.
While Brigid bandaged his leg, Grant told Kane how Salvo had triangulated his
position over the trans-
comm in his coat. "Seemed to make sense to wait for him instead of running,
since I expected you there at any time. Domi hid inside the wag, and when
Salvo arrived, I fed him the same story I gave you, about
Uno and Guana chilling each other."
"He told you I'd fused?"
Grant nodded. "Said Baptiste here had seduced you, tried to get you to join
the Preservationists. Said he had vid proof of you two in the nasty."
Responding to a sharp glare from Brigid, he added hastily, "No offense."
Kane shook his head in disgust, wishing he could remove his helmet, but it was
critical to their escape that the Magistrate trans-link frequencies be
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monitored. "Salvo is the one who fused out. Or maybe not."
"What do you mean?"
"And what about this big surprise?" inquired Brigid as she finished tying the
bandage.
"That will have to wait until we're out of sight of the ville."
Domi chose to do that by driving through thickets, squeezing through copses of
trees and jouncing along the bottoms of coulees. She expertly maneuvered the
Sandcat up, then down, treacherous slopes. She appeared to know not only what
she was doing, but where she was going, so Kane didn't question her.
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Official Cobaltville territory extended in a fifty-mile radius, using the
Administrative Monolith as the hub of a wheel. Beyond the rim of that
invisible wheel lay the Outlands. Ville law was enforced in the
Outlands, of course, but only when deemed necessary by the whim of the baron.
Kane was only vaguely familiar with the topography of the area immediately
surrounding Cobaltville, but
Domi knew where the checkpoints were. As an outlander, she would have their
locations imprinted in her memory. One of the few redeeming characteristics of
outrunners was their unerring sense of direction
He caught that thought and glumly tried to chase it out of his head. All of
them now were Outlanders, and a slip of an albino girl held seniority,
outranking them by dint of her birth and years of experience. In the kingdom
of the disenfranchised, she was pretender to a throne.
Checking his wrist chron, Kane saw that half an hour had passed since they'd
forded the river. Mesa
Verde was an hour's flight time by Deathbird, so he calculated an overland
trek, especially one not following roads and side trails, would take about
three hours, traveling at an average speed of thirty miles per hour. Unless
Domi knew a shorter route.
He asked, "Do you know a shortcut?"
She gave him a quick, annoyed glance. "What you think this is?"
"The scenic route?" Kane muttered.
Brigid leaned forward, stretching her cramped legs. Gripping the back of the
front seat, she said, "We're out of sight of the ville. Time for your big
surprise."
Kane turned back, and she self-consciously averted her face. He realized she
wasn't used to enduring such physical hardship and was ashamed of her sweat,
grime and the state of her clothing.
"All right," he said loudly. "Listen up, because I only want to tell this
once."
He should have known better. Because of the noise of the wag, he had to repeat
himself several times, half shouting to be heard at all. By the time he had
related everything about the Trust, the Totality Concept, the gateway in Mesa
Verde canyon, the Archon Directorate, his theories on the attempted
assassination of
Grant and Brigid's frame-up, he was hoarse and his throat was dirt dry.
Brigid handed him a bottle of water. As he drank from it, he caught Grant's
eye and saw how stunned and angry he was.
"Bullshit," Grant announced doggedly. "Bullshit, bullshit. Bullshit . How much
of that crap did Salvo expect you to believe? How much of it do you believe?"
"To both questions, the answer is I don't know. The Totality Concept stuff can
be verified, at least as far as a mat-trans unit is concerned, so I guess I
have to believe that part of it."
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