Sunchild Read online

  Except maybe…

  "LOOK, DAD, what was I supposed to do?" Dean asked in an exasperated tone that matched his father's. "I asked Jak if he wanted me to go with him and he said no."

  "I would have expected you to stop him, not offer to go with him," Ryan rejoined. "Fireblast it to hell, you know that we don't move in these situation without knowing what each other's doing. Why do you think we survive like we do? We operate as a team."

  "You were all asleep," Dean replied, "and Jak was going no matter what. Am I supposed to wake you all for a discussion?"

  Ryan glowered at his son. He knew that in the same circumstances he would have offered to go with Jak. Two on a scouting party stood a better chance of returning and reporting than one. Yet they had to keep some kind of discipline together.

  "Okay," he said finally, "it would have been better with two of you out there watching each other's backs than just Jak on his own. But it would have been better if he'd done it tonight, when we could all be in on it."

  "It's Jak you need to tell that to," Dean replied softly.

  The two Cawdors—father and son—held steady their gaze, neither willing to step down. The tension between them was heightened by the fact that they had to keep their voices low, only too well aware that it would be easy for anyone passing by to overhear them. Their barely reined-in anger was amplified by this, and their inability to let fly with their anger at each other. Eventually, it was Doc who interjected and broke the deadlock.

  "Be that as it may, the main point surely is that Jak has not returned. And the question leading from that must be, why?"

  "Only the first of a lot of questions, Doc," the Armorer said. He moved across to the curtain that partitioned them from the tunnel outside, where there were the sounds of people in transit. He pulled the material to one side, casually checking who was outside their unit, seemingly scratching himself idly and casually acknowledging those passersby who greeted him.

  "No sec men watching over us," he muttered, drawing the curtain fully across and returning to the others.

  "Right. First thing we need to do is try and find Jak. Is he in trouble? If not, what has he found that's stopping him returning?" Mildred sat on the edge of her bed and spoke softly but firmly.

  "Why did he feel the need to do it?" Krysty added.

  Doc favored her with an indulgent smile. "Surely you, of all people, don't need to ask such a question. One only has to look at you to see the bugs gnawing at the corners of your consciousness."

  "Very picturesque, Doc," Mildred murmured.

  "He's right, though," Krysty admitted. "It's that creepy Jenna. She's up to something, I'm sure."

  "But does Alien know about it?" Dean mused. "It could make all the difference."

  "Eventually," his father added. "Right now, our problem is Jak. And how we find him without arousing suspicion."

  THE LAMPLIGHTER CAME around the sharp bend and shuffled along the tunnel toward the metal door. He paused at each of the small oil lamps that were hung at regular intervals along the walls, lighting each one in turn until the tunnel was lit with a dull yellow glow that reflected off the metal door.

  He was still humming to himself as he turned and shuffled back. With the final lamp in this tunnel now safely lit, he had completed the day's work, and he could retire to his unit and sleep before it was time to eat. His leg was paining him, and he was grateful that this was his only job within the community.

  And then it went black…

  JAK PICKED HIMSELF up from the floor and looked at the lamplighter. He was unconscious and would remain that way for some time. When he came around, he would have no idea how he had come to pass out, and would probably worry that he had suffered some sort of fit. But that worry would die away as time passed, and there would be nothing to cause alarm either for himself or for the sec men. Which was exactly the way Jak wanted it.

  He had taken advantage of the one piece of cover available to him: the ceiling. The water and heating pipes ran close to the top of the wall on one side of the tunnel, and on the other was a series of brackets that had, in the predark days, probably held steady a series of electric cables that had long since perished or been removed. The more recently placed brackets on which the lamps were hung ran below the level of pipes and the old bracket. This was crucial.

  As the shuffling and humming neared the bend of the corridor, Jak had taken hold of the high brackets on one side of the tunnel and heaved himself up toward the ceiling, swinging his legs up with a tremendous kick and planting his feet above the level of the pipes so that his heels rested on the pipes themselves. The sweat of his effort plastering his brow, he had then swung one hand over, twisting his narrow and wiry frame so that he was able to turn completely and balance. Instead of facing the ceiling, with his back arched, he was now molded to it, facing down so that he could see whoever walked beneath.

  He hoped that the ceiling was high enough, and the shadows deep enough, to mask him from whoever walked beneath.

  He was lucky. The lamplighter was absorbed in his task, now nearly complete, and was content to light his lamps and retire. The thought of looking above him never even entered his head.

  The lamplighter passed beneath, lighted the last lamp and turned to shuffle back. He walked underneath Jak without the slightest awareness that the albino, drawing slight and shallow breaths to keep as quiet as possible, was poised above him. As the lamplighter shuffled past, Jak dropped noiselessly behind him, timing the fall so that the edge of his out-stretched hands chopped at the base of the lamplighter's neck, where the carotid artery passed along by his collarbone.

  The blow was swift and sure. The lamplighter fell without even a sigh. Jak lifted himself from the ground, checked that the man was still breathing, then left him. The albino would have no qualms about chilling the man if it was necessary, but to do so in these circumstances would arouse more suspicion than leaving him alive.

  Jak moved off swiftly and silently.

  "DARK NIGHT! Where in the rad-blasted hell have you been?" J.B. barked as Jak appeared in front of him.

  "Time look around. Tell later," Jak said quickly, taking the Armorer to one side. "Anyone miss me?"

  "Apart from us, you mean?" J.B. said through gritted teeth, shaking his head to indicate a negative to Jak's question.

  They were in what seemed to be the center of the ville, a small collection of tunnels with higher ceilings and wider pathways than the majority of the settlement. There were stalls laid out with goods, and units where services were offered. No one appeared to live in this section, which was occupied with the commerce of the ville—or what passed for commerce, as no money seemed to change hands. When J.B. answered the solicitations of one vendor with the comment that he had little money, it was explained to him that the ville worked on a communal system, and services and traders worked more as men in charge of distribution than as merchants.

  So with the inhabitants able to get what they wanted, the center of the ville was always full of people coming and going. Which made it difficult for J.B. to mask his surprise and anger when Jak suddenly appeared before him.

  "Need talk. Something weird going on," Jak said in an undertone, mindful of those passing.

  The Armorer assented. "We split up to try and find you—and not look like we were looking," he muttered. "Why did you take off like that?"

  "Bad feelings. Not doomie, but sometimes…" Jak screwed up his face.

  "Yeah, I know," J.B. agreed, anger dissipated by the look on the albino's face. "I know. Come on. Let's find the others."

  They had only gone a few yards when Harvey and Bodie appeared before them, from out of the crowd surrounding a food stall.

  "Well, hey there, white boy," Harvey greeted Jak, nodding at J.B. as afterthought. "So, what action's been going down, then?"

  Chapter Ten

  "Just taking a look around, seeing what's happening. Just the usual sort of thing," J.B. said with a deceptively laconic air. In fact, he was co
ncentrating intensely on the body language of the two sec men. If either should make a move for his blaster, then the Armorer would be ready.

  "Why not?" Bodie replied with an ease that couldn't be faked. "Guess if you're gonna be around for a while, then you may as well check it out, see where the action is." The fat sec man leaned forward with a leer and winked at them. "Fine gaudy house just off the main drag here. Don't get no trouble from the customers 'cause they always get value for money, you know?"

  J.B. forced a smile. "I'll remember that. Right, Jak?"

  "Sure."

  Harvey narrowed his eyes. "Sure you're okay, Whitey? Y'all look kind of tired to me. Like you been up all night."

  Jak shot him a look that questioned, but couldn't find the answer it sought. "Hard settle. Tossing all night," he said carefully.

  Bodie gave a lecherous grin. "Sounds like you need that gaudy, boy."

  J.B. laughed and slapped the sec man on the shoulder in a friendly manner, shaking his head. "Might just be right there, friend."

  Harvey also laughed. It was even more false than the Armorer's. "Kind of like to stay and talk all day, but we got work to do, Bodie. Be seeing you," he finished as the fat sec man suddenly sobered and fell in behind his chief.

  Jak and J.B. watched them disappear into the throng of ville dwellers.

  "Think he know?" the albino queried.

  "Sure as hell hope not. I'd trust that mud-sucker as far as I could spit him," J.B. murmured.

  THE COMPANIONS ASSEMBLED once more at their allotted sleeping unit. While the combination of Mildred, Doc and Krysty had found little in their short search other than the fact that inhabitants of Raw were friendly if a little frightened of the outside world, Dean and Ryan had encountered the baron and his wife.

  "She's the danger," Dean said softly, leaning against the wall and chewing the ball of his thumb. "Alien seems like a baron who wants the best for his people. But her… She asked where you were," he directed to Mildred, "and called you 'the black' again. I don't know if Alien even noticed, he's so under her spell. But the way she said it, I just keep thinking of the chilled," he finished.

  Mildred said nothing. Krysty, on the other hand, turned to Ryan. She had plenty to say.

  "We can't stay here. None of us are happy, and there's something about Jenna that makes me shiver when I even think about her. Gaia!" She shuddered.

  "I don't know what she's up to here, but this time I don't want to know, either. I just want to get out."

  The one-eyed warrior shook his head slowly. "I say we stay."

  "Why?" J.B. asked. "Dark night, Ryan, after what Jak's told us, after what we all feel, why?"

  The one-eyed man fixed the Armorer with a steady gaze. "Trust me, J.B. After everything, trust me. That bitch could be a problem, but there's something at stake here. The Illuminated Ones are one of the best leads we've ever come across. If Erewhon does still exist, it could be all that Trader spoke of. It could be the promised land. I can't just throw that dream away."

  There was a short silence. Ryan was their leader, and the tacit agreement was that they follow his lead. But even at this risk?

  Doc cleared his throat. "I believe Ryan may be correct. The risk may well be worth it. After all, does anyone know about friend Jak's nocturnal excursion? Does anyone suspect us of anything? On the contrary, everyone bar Jenna seems to like us. And frankly, she seems to dislike everyone except herself, so we are not alone in that."

  Mildred pursed her lips and nodded, her beaded plaits moving in slow time around her head. "Damned if I don't think I'm going senile when I agree with this crazy old coot."

  "J.B.?" Ryan asked.

  The Armorer held steady, then said, "Dark night, yeah, for a while, mebbe. But if everyone is spooked, then it's time to go. Even you."

  "Okay," Ryan assented. "Even me."

  IT WAS DIFFICULT for Ryan to know where to begin. Somehow he needed to broach the subject with the baron, yet at the same time he figured that he would need to build his trust. But how could any of them do that when there seemed nothing to do?

  Raw was run on strict communal lines. Everyone had a task, and everyone carried it out. Offers of help were politely but firmly refused by the ville dwellers, none of whom seemed concerned with getting to know the outlanders. Not from any sense of hostility or xenophobia—rather, it was because they were busy and happy in their tasks. Even when the Armorer dropped by the armory and offered to help, examining the store of blasters and grens and passing compliments on their condition, as well as dropping snippets of knowledge to encourage a dialogue, he was politely but firmly turned away. It was frustrating for J.B., who, if nothing else, had looked forward to killing time on his great love.

  Alien had the community running like a well-oiled machine. No one other than the sec forces carried blasters inside the tunnels—no one other than the companions, that was, who still carried theirs about their person. There seemed to be no fights or feuds, and everyone the companions spoke to offered generous praise for Alien.

  Yet it wasn't the fulsome and hollow praise of fear. It was a genuine love for a baron who tried to do his best for his people. Even Krysty, still spooked by the constant doomie feelings from Jenna that she could feel snaking like tendrils throughout the ville, came to warm to the large baron, whose twinkling eyes made him like some idyllic leader from myth.

  "We aren't the Illuminated Ones, but we are from them," he told Ryan once more. "Some of those ideas and ideals came down to me from my family, and from those who taught me. I just try to put them into action. If this Erewhon place does actually exist, then mebbe it'll be like us with much more riches. Mebbe not. Mebbe they got lost somewhere along the way, which is what my family taught me. I don't know if I want us to know."

  The one-eyed warrior found this frustrating, but yielded to the baron's obvious sincerity.

  Nonetheless, after three days of idling around the ville, discovering nothing of any import and finding nothing to usefully pass their time, even Ryan found himself tiring of life underground.

  "Face it, we're not going to learn anything from them," Mildred said as they held a meeting in the privacy of their unit. "Perhaps because there isn't actually anything to learn."

  Ryan assented. "Dammit, I thought we were really onto something here. But the longer we hang around, the more we're tempting Jenna. She doesn't like us here, and she may come up with something if we don't go."

  "So we check our equipment and head out?" J.B. prompted.

  Ryan nodded. "I'll see Alien when the lights go up tomorrow. Tell him thanks, but we've got to be going. He's a good man, but I think he'll be glad to see the back of us."

  "Harvey certainly will," Dean interjected. "The other guys are okay, but he's nervous with us around."

  "I wonder why that should be," Doc mused. He had dropped out of the conversation to such a degree that the others thought he had drifted into sleep. "If Alien has nothing to hide, which I do not believe he has, then why would his sec chief be so jumpy around us?"

  "Like always hiding something," Jak added.

  "That's been bugging me, too," Ryan finished, "but that's between him and the baron and whoever else. Not us. Not now."

  But his voice lacked conviction.

  THE CHANCE to make a peace and farewell with Alien didn't occur. It was superseded by a far more pressing matter.

  The lights outside the sleeping unit were still dim, so it was still officially night when Mildred and Dean were both jolted awake by the sound of running feet echoing through the tunnels.

  "What—" Mildred murmured, rising.

  "Shh," Jak hissed. The albino had heard the noise before the others, partly because he found it almost impossible to sleep in the underground ville. He was already stationed at the flimsy partition, keeping watch.

  By now, the feet had passed on their way to Harvey's quarters. The echo had died as they approached, revealing that there were two sec men running close together. One was Rankine, and as he
passed without noticing Jak, the albino saw that the sec man's face was grim and set.

  "Trouble. From outside," Jak added. "Rankine smelt forest."

  "Didn't notice they had patrols out there," Ryan mused. "Mebbe the children being chilled has spooked them. Something's certainly spooked Rankine."

  "So do we wait for them to come to us?" J.B. asked. '"Cause if there's an attack—"

  "Then we stand and fight," Ryan finished. "We'll wait."

  Not that they had to wait for long. Almost as soon as they had fully risen and armed themselves, Bodie appeared in the entrance to the unit. He paused, taken aback by their readiness.

  "Alien wants to see you," he panted, short of breath from having run. "Now."

  They followed the fat sec man through the tunnels until they reached the main hall. The tunnels were alive with ville dwellers on their way to and from the armory, taking up blasters that some of them looked uncomfortable handling. For J.B., this was a bad sign. If you didn't feel happy with a blaster, then you shouldn't be given one, lest you end up being more of a danger to yourself than the enemy.

  When they reached the hall, Alien was seated at the table, with Harvey standing in front, leaning over the table and jabbing at a map while talking in low undertones. Jenna was with them, and looked past the sec chief to where Bodie led the companions.

  "Ryan Cawdor, if there is a time for you to repay our hospitality, then it's now," the baron said swiftly, not standing on ceremony. "Tell him, Harvey."

  The sec man acknowledged the one-eyed warrior with a brief nod, swinging the map around on the table so that Ryan's party could see it clearly.

  "We post two-man sentry teams at four compass points in a one-mile radius around the entrances to the ville," he began by way of explanation. "Nothing much happens, but you can't be too careful. I've been expecting something since we took back the children, but this is nasty. Rankine and Wilson took the southeast point here—" he jabbed at the map. "—which is right in line with Samtvogel. That fucker Sunchild wasn't chilled when Four-eyes there shot him, and he's madder then hell. Used his mutie blood to get some stickies under his control, and a group of stickies and Sunchildren are headed this way."