Iron master, p.18
Iron Master, page 18
Steve was surprised to hear the fluency with which his interlocutor spoke Basic. ‘That’s the name the Mutes give to the wingmen of the Federation. They are a special kind of soldier. Cream of the crop. But instead of being mounted on horses like samurai, they ride into battle on flying machines called Skyhawks.’
‘Got it. So tell me – why would someone as special as that dress up as a grass-monkey?’
Steve hesitated.
‘You find that a difficult question to answer?’
‘No, sire, I was just wondering what words to use. You speak Basic amazingly well, but the system you operate here is so different to ours we may not share the same kind of vocabulary.’
‘Try me,’ said Toshiro.
‘The supreme ruler of your country is known as the Shogun. Is that correct?’
The Herald’s throat tightened. He had not foreseen that the outlander might have the effrontery to ask him a question. He mastered his anger without changing his expression. ‘Go on…’
‘The supreme ruler of my country – the Amtrak Federation – is known as the President-General. I have the honour to be one of a small number of soldiers selected personally by him to carry out highly sensitive undercover assignments. The unit, over which he exercises direct control, is known as AMEXICO. The AMtrak Executive Intelligence COmmando. Its operatives are known as mexicans. We are the eyes and ears of the President-General, and it is he who sent me here.’
‘In pursuit of two long-dogs, I believe–’
Steve hit him with the big one. ‘You are mistaken, sire. The couple I seek are not long-dogs. They’re Mutes.’ As he inclined his head, he saw the eyes of his masked questioner flicker with alarm.
Toshiro exchanged glances with the ronin. If what this outlander said about himself was true, then the position he held in his own country was more or less equivalent to Toshiro’s own as a Herald to the Inner Court. If that was the case, it was little wonder that he had fought so well and spoken with such assurance. But what he had just said about Clearwater and her companion could totally demolish the scenario he had constructed for the Shogun. And that could be very embarrassing. A firm response was necessary.
He slapped his thigh and laughed mockingly. ‘You spin a good story, cloud warrior, but I advise you to tread carefully. You come here uninvited, threaten to make war on us with fire from the sky if we do not hand over the two criminals you seek, and now you ask us to believe that, despite your appearance, you are really a long-dog, and those who look like long-dogs are grass-monkeys!’
Steve bowed. It was obvious this guy hadn’t heard about super-straights. ‘Yes, sire, I know it sounds far-fetched, but that’s the way it is. They are a special kind of Mute that you may not have come across before.’
Toshiro’s mouth tightened and went down at the corners. Was this possible? Hhhawwwwh! This conversation was taking a dangerous turn. He would have to find some excuse to get rid of the ronin so that he could talk privately with the cloud warrior. It was vital that this disturbing piece of news did not reach the Shogun’s ears until he had had an opportunity to prepare the ground.
‘Can you prove you are not a grass-monkey?’
‘Yes.’ Steve indicated Noburo. ‘I gave the samurai-captain my radio-knife.’
Toshiro nodded. ‘Yeah, I’ve seen it,’ he said flatly.
‘The Plainfolk do not possess such devices. Neither do the Sons of Ne-Issan. Only the Federation has the knowledge and the power to create these things. I can show you how it works.’
And who knows, maybe this time I might get Karlstrom on the other end of the line. That would rock them back on their heels.
‘The device is of no interest to us.’
Steve found his reply bewildering, but then the ronin had also shown a certain reluctance when presented with the knife. Steve recalled Side-Winder telling him the dinks didn’t have electricity. Okay. Neither did the Mutes. But these guys were different: they were into making things in a big way. They should have been falling over themselves to find out about it but instead they gave the impression they couldn’t care less. Maybe they were just scared of new ideas – like the M’Calls not wanting the Iron Masters’ rifles. Never mind, if he couldn’t blind this guy with science he still had a couple of cards to play. ‘This skin colour comes off. But I need some water and some leaves that are in my bag.’
Toshiro looked across at the ronin. Noburo got up and left the room.
As the screen door slid shut behind him, Toshiro said, ‘What else do you know, cloud warrior?’
Steve raised his eyes, hesitated for a moment, then decided to play his hunch. ‘I know that you and the samurai-captain serve the Shogun and that there are those who seek his downfall. Lord Yama-Shita is one, his friend Min-Orota is another.’
Toshiro’s eyes gave nothing away. ‘Go on…’
‘If I’m right, maybe you and I can do business.’
‘What kind of business?’
‘I was sent here to take out the Mute who is building flying machines for Lord Min-Orota.’
‘“Take out”… you mean kill?’
‘My orders were to bring him and his female companion back alive if possible. If not…’ Steve completed the sentence with a shrug. ‘If I fail, the Federation will be obliged to resort to other… more destructive means. We do not seek a wider conflict, but we cannot allow this enterprise to succeed. It’s also possible that what is going on at the Heron Pool does not have the wholehearted support of those you represent. If this is the case, you may feel that perhaps it would be in the best interests of all concerned if it was closed down. Permanently.’
‘Mmmmm… interesting thought. Are you making me an offer?’
‘It would save everybody a lot of grief.’
‘Who gave you all this information – my colleague?’
Steve shook his head. ‘Apart from disclosing that his name was Noburo Naka-Jima, he didn’t tell me a thing. He didn’t need to. The Federation has ears and eyes all over the sky.’ That last part was pure invention, but Steve was closer to the truth than he realised.
Noburo returned with a small bucket of water and the deerskin waist-bag. When his wrists had been untied, Steve spread out the fingers of his left hand towards the man in black and pointed at them in turn. ‘Pick one.’
Toshiro said nothing until Steve switched hands and reached his right middle finger. ‘Stop right there.’
Pulling one of the five-pointed pink leaves from the bundle, Steve wet it thoroughly, then scrunched it up in his left hand. He then dunked the chosen finger in the bucket and screwed it around vigorously inside his closed fist. A couple of minutes and several rinses later, no trace of the dye remained. Stretching out his arm, he closed his fist and extended his middle finger upwards in front of Toshiro’s face for him to examine.
The Herald, who was unaware of the symbolic meaning behind the gesture, stared silently at the pink-skinned digit.
‘Satisfied?’
Toshiro managed to control his anger, but it took a great deal of effort to do so. He would dearly have loved to cut off the cloud warrior’s arm to punish him for his insolence, but this was not possible. Not yet, anyway. But he had to let this outlander know he was not dealing with an ignoramus. ‘Don’t push it, sport.’
‘Sire, it was your facility with my language that led me to use a more colloquial form of address. By doing so, I meant to pay you a compliment, not to give offence.’
‘Spare me the bullshit,’ said Toshiro. ‘I may not be up on the Federation but I know when someone’s trying to put me down.’
There was only one thing to do: bow gracefully.
‘Okay,’ said Toshiro. ‘You have the skin and the face of a long-dog. But so has the woman you seek. She was painted like you.’
‘That’s true.’ Steve indicated the pattern on his arm. ‘This stuff is specially made by the Mutes to disguise those born with clear skins.’
‘Unfortunately we only have your word for that.’
Steve shrugged. This guy’s attitude was beginning to get his back up. ‘It’s a pity the samurai-captain let the woman go. If she was here now she could prove I’m speaking the truth.’
The Herald digested Steve’s reply then looked at the ronin. Noburo responded with a slight nod. ‘Very well. We’ll see what she has to say.’
It was Steve’s turn to be surprised. ‘She’s here?’
‘Yeah. It’s your lucky day.’
A real wise guy…
Toshiro turned to the ronin and spoke again in Japanese. ‘My friend. If it is still possible, bring the woman here without delay and hold her in the next room until I am ready to question her.’
Noburo replied in their native tongue. ‘Shall I secure the wrists of the outlander?’
Toshiro suppressed a smile. ‘No. He is a venomous serpent, but I think I know how to handle him. If we could find a way to place him in the bosom of our enemies he could be of great use to us.’
‘And afterwards…?’
‘I shall have great pleasure in drawing his fangs.’
Not understanding your opponents’ language was like playing Shoot-A-Mute with your eyes shut. Steve watched Noburo bow, then pad softly towards the door. For some reason these guys took their shoes off every time they came inside. He had been made to leave his out on the veranda too. Strange people. He turned back to the man in black and wondered what the rest of his face looked like.
‘Look, uhh… may I speak frankly?’ No response. Steve tried again. ‘The samurai-captain warned me that outlanders such as myself are not supposed to ask questions but there are a few things we need to clear up.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, it would help if I knew your name.’
‘That’s not necessary.’
‘Okay, then – just tell me where you fit into the picture.’
‘You don’t need to know that either,’ replied Toshiro. ‘What you have to fix clearly in your mind is this. Your life is in my hands. If I decide to make use of you then your execution will be delayed. If you follow my orders and help bring this situation to a successful conclusion it may be postponed indefinitely.’
‘Does that mean I get to go home?’
‘That’s up to you.’ At this stage it was best to keep things fluid.
‘Okay. But let me give you some advice. I’m happy to work in with you, but I’ve been on this case for some time. I know these two. I know how their minds work. So I may be able to come up with a few ideas you haven’t thought of.’
The cloud warrior’s brash confidence was really quite insufferable. From the way he spoke anyone would think they were equals! Toshiro gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. ‘I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, sport. As yet, there is no deal. If you don’t manage to convince me that the masked lady is a Mute, you’ll be dead before morning.’
*
Clearwater experienced a moment of alarm when she woke to find a masked samurai in her bedchamber. She shrank away as he went down on one knee beside her, but he indicated by gestures that he wished her no harm. Putting a finger to his lips, he told her in fractured Basic that a gentleman who was concerned for her future was waiting near by and wished to speak with her. If she came of her own accord, he would ensure her safe return. Seeing her hesitation, the samurai assured her that both her guardians had been drugged and would not wake until dawn at the earliest, by which time she would be safely back in bed. Clearwater put her travelling cape over the thin cotton shift she was wearing, pulled the cowl over her head so that her face was shadowed and picked up a pair of wooden-soled sandals.
The samurai, whose voice and build she thought she recognised, slid open the door to the antechamber and ushered her past Su-Shan and Nan-Khe. Both women lay sprawled on their futons, breathing heavily through their mouths. Stepping barefoot on to the veranda, Clearwater followed the samurai to the far end past several other guest rooms and then slipped on her sandals as they stepped down on to a winding path. The moon had disappeared, leaving the post-house shrouded in almost total darkness, but as she was being taken to her room earlier in the day, Clearwater had noticed that the path led to a small pavilion set apart from the other buildings. No light came from the windows but as they drew closer she saw two red-stripes standing guard outside. One of them slid open the door-screen and bowed as she and the samurai mounted the steps, parked their footwear and went inside.
Standing in the light of a masked lantern was a man swathed in black. Only his eyes were visible. As the door slid shut the man stepped into the shadows. ‘Take off your cape and stand in the light.’
Clearwater let the cape fall to the floor. The ankle-length cotton shift she wore hung from the points of her breasts, moulding itself softly over her belly and thighs. Her hair, now unpinned, framed her face and throat. She swept it up with her hands and pushed it back over her shoulders.
The shrouded eyes of the Man in Black glistened briefly in the lantern light. He motioned her to lift the hem of her shift. Clearwater reached down and gathered it up around her thighs.
‘Higher.’
She lifted the hem clear of her pelvis. The Plainfolk had no complexes about nakedness. They dressed and observed a certain decorum, but to be without clothes was viewed as neither shameful nor embarrassing. Plainfolk were vigorous and lusty but they were not filled with prurient curiosity.
‘Higher.’
Clearwater calmly hoisted the shift up over her breasts. She felt nothing because exposing her body to these cold-eyed strangers meant nothing. It was the same with the Consul-General. Even though she had lost count of the times he had penetrated her she remained inviolate. For Mutes, it was the inner self that was sacred. Her soul was pledged to the cloud warrior and would remain so.
‘Turn round.’
Clearwater turned to face the masked samurai. She was sure he was the same man who had inspected her when she had been held in the cave. She sensed that neither of the Iron Masters lusted after her. If anything, they viewed her with a certain repugnance. So why were they so curious about her body? The fact that she had hair on her head and belly where they had none could not be the real reason why she had been carried off, released without any explanation, and was now once again in the hands of the same man and yet another of his accomplices.
Yama-Shita and his friends had kept her hidden in a carriage-box and windowless rooms. If these men hid their faces behind masks and wrappings of black cloth then they must be adversaries of Yama-Shita. Her clear-skinned body had, in some way, become important to both sides.
‘Cover yourself.’
Clearwater pulled the shift down over her hips and let it fall. The masked samurai handed her the cape. She wrapped it round her shoulders and turned to face the Man in Black.
Toshiro switched to Japanese and addressed the ronin. ‘Send one of your men to keep an eye on the house-women. If they should wake and raise the alarm…’
‘I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.’
‘Good. I want you to stay out here and keep watch while I talk to these two. If I need any assistance I’ll call. Otherwise, there are to be no interruptions. Is that understood?’
Noburo bowed. ‘Absolutely.’
The Herald slid open the door-screen to the adjoining room and motioned Clearwater to enter. She bowed respectfully to both men, then went through. Her hand flew to her mouth as she saw the cloud warrior kneeling on the mat by the masked lantern.
Steve was equally surprised to see her.
Toshiro pointed to a spot on Steve’s right. ‘Move over there.’
As Steve shuffled round, the Herald motioned Clearwater to take his place. When they were both kneeling with bowed heads, he sat down facing her, cocked his elbows outwards and placed his hands on his splayed thighs. ‘Okay, straighten up! Let’s get this over with.’
They sat back on their heels.
Toshiro flicked a hand towards Steve. ‘This individual has made certain allegations which I wish to verify. You will answer me fully and with the utmost truthfulness. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘Good. This may not concern you in the slightest but I may as well tell you that–’ he pointed towards Steve again – ‘if this person has lied to me in any material particular you will be a witness to his immediate execution.’
Clearwater bowed and stole a sideways glance at Steve. Oh, my beloved cloud warrior! What have you said…?
‘Let us begin,’ said Toshiro. ‘Do you come from the underground world they call the Federation?’
‘No. I was born under the sky.’
‘So you are a Mute…’
‘I have never claimed to be anything else, sire.’
‘What is your true name?’
‘Clearwater.’
‘And the names of your parents?’
‘I am the blood-daughter of Sun-Dance. My father was Thunder-Bird – a great warrior.’
‘To which clan do you belong?’
‘The M’Calls, from the blood-line of the She-Kargo, first-born of the Plainfolk.’
So far so good. Round Two.
‘The individual who came with you from the sky and now works at the Heron Pool – is his name Steven Roosevelt Brickman?’
‘No. His name is Cadillac. Like me, he is of the Plainfolk and the clan M’Call. His mother was Black-Wing. His father was Heavy-Metal.’
‘What were you hunting when Cadillac first “chewed bone”?’
‘Fast-foot.’
‘What was the name of the warrior who challenged him?’
‘Shakatak D’Vine, from the blood-line of the D’Troit.’
‘Did Cadillac kill him?’
Clearwater hesitated. ‘He fought bravely and well.’
‘I shall only ask you once more. Did he kill him?’
‘No, sire. I did.’
‘What is your relationship to Mr Snow?’
‘He is my teacher and guardian.’
‘Is he an agent of the Amtrak Federation?’
‘No, sire. He abhors the Federation and all its works. He has sworn to pit his strength against it until the last breath leaves his body.’
Toshiro’s outward stance did not change one iota but inwardly he was crumbling as fast as the scenario he had laid before the Shogun. Every answer this grass-monkey gave confirmed the claims made by the accursed mexican. Instead of giving him sake when he started shooting his mouth off, Noburo should have cut his tongue out…
