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  He turned, and saw that Harvey was standing in the opening to the chamber, the drapes held back.

  Alien stood beside him.

  "I think you may have some explaining to do, friend Cawdor," the baron said softly.

  Ryan shook his head. "No explaining. You think what you will."

  The one-eyed man knew that whatever he said, he wouldn't be believed. If he tried to explain about Jenna's power, about Dean, about her proposition, none of it would be believed. The baron was completely in her thrall.

  "This is no way to treat your hosts, Cyclops," Harvey said with relish. "I reckon it's just plain bad manners. Shall I chill the fucker now, Alien, or do you want to do it yourself?"

  The baron held up a hand. "Not now, Harv. This will require a ville meet. Send the word out soon as possible, I want everyone in the main hall. Then we'll decide what to do."

  "What to do?" Jenna screamed, holding the fur to her. She was acting the part of the outraged baron's wife well, Ryan had to admit. "What do you mean? This one-eyed bastard is no use to man nor to beast."

  "We will decide that later," Alien snapped with a harshness to his voice that Ryan hadn't heard during their stay in Raw.

  The baron turned his attention to Ryan. "As for you, Ryan Cawdor, you and your people will attend, by force if necessary."

  "That won't be necessary."

  Alien nodded. "Good. You perplex me, Ryan Cawdor. But we shall see. Yes, we shall see. Now get from my sight."

  Ryan made no reply and walked out of the chamber, passing the baron and the sec chief without looking at them. He didn't look back at Jenna, either.

  Now they were faced with a possible firefight to get out alive, and there was still no sign of Dean.

  THERE WAS ANOTHER tight corner in the concrete duct. This tunnel hadn't seemed as long as those leading from the lab, but Dean had no idea whether this was really the case or whether it was a matter of psychology. In a sense, it was unimportant. All that mattered was reaching an exit.

  And perhaps this was it. As he squeezed himself around the corner of the duct, a faint light permeated the gloom. The duct was on a slight incline, which made it harder for him to crawl. His elbows felt as though they were worn to the bone, no longer hurting because the nerve endings had rubbed away. But the growing light gave him the impetus to go faster. The way out was almost in sight, and he couldn't fail now.

  It seemed to take forever, the grille at the end of the duct growing larger, tantalizingly always out of reach. Each shuffling movement took an eternity.

  Sound started to leak into the shaft: a buzzing of idle conversation, the clattering of movement. Wherever Dean had landed, it was a heavily populated area. He was relieved. If it was populated, then it had to be central, so it would be easy for him to find his way back to the rest of the party. And if it was central and heavily populated, then it would be hard for Jenna or Harvey to recapture him without giving away their secrets to some degree.

  This knowledge spurred him on, and Dean quickened his pace, getting closer and closer to the grille.

  When he reached it, he could see why he had traversed an incline. The grille was situated high up in the wall of the tunnel, above the level of the heating and water pipes and the brackets for the lamps. He could see the tops of people's heads as they went about their business. He was in the central area where trade and commerce took place. Although there were a few people about, there were fewer than he would have expected from previous exploration, and through the hum of conversation he caught something about a raid on Samtvogel.

  It was all the more important he find his father and his friends—if they were still alive.

  Dean tried to loosen the grille, cursing to himself as his constricted arms found it hard to get the necessary purchase to push the grille out of the wall. But slowly it began to give, with a grating screech.

  Two men passing by looked up at the grille.

  "Shit, it's the one-eyed man's boy," one of them said. "Quick, Ham, get me something to stand on."

  His companion grabbed a stool that sat by an unattended stall and gave it to the muscular, thickset man. "Hang on, son, hang on," he said as he placed the stool beneath the grille and climbed up, pulling at the grille to assist Dean's restricted pushing.

  The grille gave way, and the thickset man tossed it to the floor, taking hold of the boy as he slithered from the duct, bunking in the light.

  "Ham, take the boy," the thickset man ordered his companion, and Ham—who was swarthy and squat— seized Dean with a strength of grip that gave lie to his fat frame, lowering the youth to the ground as Dean fell, upside down, from the opening of the duct.

  Dean sat on the floor of the tunnel, a small crowd gathering around him. The thickset man seized the boy by the hand, pumping it and announcing himself as Donal. "Where have you been, son? Where have you been?" he kept repeating.

  Dean found himself without the opportunity to answer, the man's concerned questioning cutting across his attempts to speak. So the youngster used the man's arm—hand still pumping—to pull himself to his feet.

  "Yeah, yeah, please," Dean said quickly, trying to speak between the concerned questioning, which was now beginning to come from the small crowd as Dean still found himself unable to answer. "Look, thanks, but I really can't…" He shrugged, not able to finish the sentence. Detaching his hand, he backed away from his rescuer, through the crowd. "I can't stop, really, thanks…"

  Dean turned, looking around to orient himself. He now knew which way he had to go in order to reach the unit where his father and friends had been billeted. He started to run, despite the protests of his aching limbs.

  "Well, what do you make of that?" Donal asked no one in particular. "Is that what you call friendly?"

  The fat man Ham shrugged. "Outlanders," he said simply, as though that were all the answer needed.

  RYAN OUTLINED the situation to his party.

  J.B. blew out his cheeks and pushed his fedora back on his head. "Well, I guess you're not chilled yet, so that's a start." He sighed.

  "Yeah, John, I find that really reassuring," Mildred said with heavy sarcasm.

  "He's right," Ryan replied. "We're here together, and we know what we're walking into later. If it's some kind of mock trial and then a chilling, at least we can make a fight of it."

  "Or find Dean, get out first," Jak added.

  "Always ask the impossible and expect the unexpected." Doc smiled. "We do not even know where he is."

  But even as he said this, they all noticed Jak—on sentry duty—suddenly stiffen. The albino turned to them, a rare smile cracking his scarred white face. "Always expect unexpected," he said simply.

  With which he disappeared around the curtain, returning a few moments later supporting an exhausted Dean, who had run despite the aches and strains of his muscles, and had collapsed into Jak's support gladly when the albino rushed to greet him.

  Krysty aided Jak in seating the youth on the edge of the bed. Mildred immediately stripped him to the waist to stem the bleeding from some of the deeper scratches on his back, which had soaked the back of his shirt in blood.

  "God in heaven, boy, what have you done to yourself?" she whispered.

  "Listen," Dean said breathlessly, his head suddenly swimming with exhaustion now that he had reached relative safety and was no longer moving solely on adrenaline. He had to concentrate on every word, forcing them out. "Listen, you were right, Mildred. Jenna, she has old tech, and these muties that she's made. She wants—"

  "The master race," Doc interjected. "As ever with these people. History never learns. It just keeps making the same mistakes on an endless loop."

  "Yeah, right, Doc, but saying it doesn't help now," Mildred snapped. "Let Dean finish. We don't have much time."

  Dean gasped out what had happened to him.

  "You think that both her and Harvey will use the meet to get us chilled and mebbe try and get Alien out of the way, as well? Say he's weak for letting us in?" Krysty
posed.

  Ryan frowned. "Alien's a good man, and popular. That'd be hard for them, unless they've got the whole of the sec force with them, and I doubt that from what I've seen."

  "Yeah, second that," Jak added.

  "So we need a game plan," J.B. said, cutting to the heart of the matter. "We've got to get our asses out of here, and keep our backs covered as we go."

  Ryan nodded, but was cut short from adding anything by the voice of Blake behind him.

  "Time for the meet. Harv sent us 'cause he don't trust you," the small sec man said apologetically. He and Downey, blasters in hand, stood at the entrance to the unit, both looking embarrassed by their appointed task.

  As the drapes opened, Dean had reacted quickly, sliding off the bed so that he was sheltered from view. Downey and Blake wouldn't be expecting to find him, so would not search the unit if he wasn't with the party that left; he had to hope that they hadn't heard him or glanced at him when they entered. Doc, nearest to the youngster, pulled a blanket from the bed, catching the bottom hem with the toe of his boot and dragging it down so that Dean was covered.

  No one else noticed.

  "It is a pity we did not get that chance to look for young Dean, and that the lad seems destined to stay lost," Doc said with a perfectly straight face.

  The inference was clear, and no one spoke of Dean as they assembled in silence, then followed the sec men from the unit and on the journey to the main hall. There was nothing to be said that wouldn't give clues as to any possible course of action. It would be every man for himself, staying triple-red alert. It wouldn't be the first time they had been in such a situation.

  The one thing that did puzzle them individually was that the sec men had made no attempt to take their weapons. Still armed, it would have been easy for them to overpower Blake and Downey and try to effect their escape. The problem with that being that if sec men had been sent, it wouldn't be beyond Harvey to set up sec parties to ambush them if they attempted it. At least dealing with Alien they had some chance of reasoning with him.

  BACK IN THE SLEEPING UNIT, Dean waited until the footsteps had receded into the distance before emerging from behind the bed. While he was there, he unholstered his Browning Hi-Power and checked that it was fully loaded. He was thankful for Jenna and Harvey's confidence in the restraints on the operating table. They deemed it unnecessary to remove the blaster from the carelessly discarded pile of clothing. He slipped the blaster back to its place of concealment, fingers lingering on it to feel the position of the butt and grip, mentally mapping it for when it was necessary.

  Dean then crossed the floor and drew back the drape. They had disappeared around a bend in the tunnel, but he knew the route to the main hall, so it wasn't necessary to keep them in sight.

  He followed at a pace he calculated—from their speed on leaving—would keep him equidistant from them until he reached the main hall himself. What he would do when he got there, he wasn't sure. He would have to assess the situation as he found it.

  Dean kept his head down and tried to blend in with his surroundings. He was aware from the reception he had received when Ham and Donal had helped him from the ventilation duct that his disappearance had been well noted, and that there had been a search for him. Obviously, word of his escape hadn't yet reached the ears of the sec men who had come to escort his companions. He hoped that it hadn't had time to spread, and that he could remain fairly anonymous.

  The ville seemed to be almost empty as he made his way to the main hall. This was good for Dean, as it allowed him to pass unnoticed. However, he did find the fact that his father and companions would be facing the whole of Raw a cause for concern.

  As he neared the hall itself, there was a swell of sound as the muttered conversations of the whole ville gathered in one room hit him. The sound was too overlapping and confusing for Dean to make out anything in particular, but from snatches that could be discerned, he gleaned that not even the ville dwellers themselves knew what this was about.

  Whether that was a hopeful sign, he didn't even want to consider. He reached the entrance to the hall, which was unguarded on the outside. Beyond the opening, he could see the mass of people. His father and friends, Blake and Downey, and even the baron himself were lost to view, somewhere in the center of the vast room, surrounded by the residents of Raw.

  Two sec men stood on the inside of the entrance, their backs to him. Like everyone else, they seemed more interested in what was about to transpire than in keeping watch.

  Good. Dean approached the entrance, light-footed so as not to give them cause to turn around. His entrance was aided by a sudden call to silence from Harvey. Everyone, even the sec guards, suddenly craned forward, their attention so focused on what was happening in front of them that they ignored the young man pushing into their midst, unwilling to take their eyes from the spectacle in front of them.

  "I WISH EVERYONE wasn't staring so hard," J.B. whispered to Mildred as they stood in a group, flanked by Blake and Downey, in the center of the hall. The inhabitants of Raw had formed a circle around them, and were studying them with interest, appearing to have little idea as to what was occurring.

  "Why, John, don't tell me you're shy," Mildred replied, her acid sense of humor surfacing as an indication of her own concern.

  Jak turned to Blake. "Why?" he asked simply.

  The small sec man looked uncomfortable. "Not my choice, Jak. Harv is still boss, and he says word comes from Alien. They didn't tell me or Downey what it was about. But mebbe you know?" It was half plea, half accusation.

  "Mebbe believe if I tell, but mebbe not most," Jak replied.

  "Thing is," Downey commented, "it can't be that bad, 'cause Harv never said we should disarm you. In fact he was sure that we shouldn't."

  "A most interesting stratagem," Doc mused, hearing this.

  "Meaning?" Krysty queried.

  "Work it out regarding our earlier conversation." Doc smiled cryptically. "It is not, perhaps, for the general consumption."

  Krysty's hair curled tight to her neck. She had a good idea what Doc meant, and knew that it caught them even more between that rock and that hard place than ever. Harvey wanted to set them up and chill them in a firefight, giving himself ample time and opportunity to dispose of the baron in a seemingly accidental manner.

  The one thing they had in their favor was Dean. It seemed more than likely that Harvey didn't know he was loose, or if he did, was unaware that he had returned to the group. And the youngster was somewhere in Raw.

  Mebbe, she thought as she scanned the puzzled and not yet hostile faces of the Raw dwellers, mebbe even somewhere in this hall.

  Her train of thought was interrupted by the shrill yell of Harvey's voice as he pushed through to the entry of the hall, followed by Alien and Jenna.

  "Hey, move over there, we gonna begin. So quiet up!" the sec chief yelled. Behind him, the baron was grim faced. Jenna found it hard to hide a sly smile, and Krysty recoiled at the psychic wave that hit her when their eyes locked.

  It was show time.

  DEAN HAD BEEN MOVING through the crowd, keeping his head down so that he wouldn't be recognized, but had been brought up short by the sound of Harvey's voice.

  Looking up, he saw the sec chief, the baron and Jenna enter the circle left in the center of the hall. He saw the expression on the woman's face and felt his stomach flip.

  Trouble was coming. And now.

  Harvey addressed the crowd. "Okay, people, you're probably wonderin' why you're here, and what this is about. Well, these people—" he spat the word as though it were poisonous. "—have betrayed us. Alien wants to talk to y'all about it."

  The sec chief stood back, looking pleased with himself, as the baron stepped forward.

  "My friends, I have come to seek a consensus from you. As you are aware, Ryan Cawdor and his fellow travelers have aided us considerably in our recent and most vital struggles against Samtvogel. Indeed, without them our task would have been much harder. And yet
I have discovered that behind our backs, Ryan Cawdor has been plotting to overthrow me and to assume control of Raw."

  A ripple of surprise and shock spread through the crowd. Even among the companions, there was surprise at the charge itself. Dean kept his shock down and used the ripple as a means to move forward a little more, nearer to the center.

  "Shortly after our return to Raw today," the baron continued, "I returned to my chambers to find Ryan Cawdor alone with my wife. She was naked and distressed—"

  Another ripple of shock, this time not shared by the companions. Dean, for his part, found the idea of Jenna distressed by her nakedness sickly amusing, considering what the woman had told him about her plans for his father and himself.

  Alien held up his hands for silence, and continued, "When I had dismissed Ryan Cawdor and had calmed my wife, I discovered that Ryan had told her he wanted to rule Raw, and use the people to help him achieve his aims. Also that he wanted her as his woman, as he was tired of the one he has now."

  Krysty felt sick at the accusation coming from the mutie woman, but also amused at how far wide of the mark she knew it to be. She felt the raven eyes of the queen searing into her, but refused to meet them.

  Tiring of that game, Jenna stepped forward and interrupted her husband. "When I told him that I wasn't interested, the bastard tried to take me by force. It was only my husband arriving that saved me from that animal," she cried, her voice trembling with an anger and fear that was convincing—unless you knew the truth.

  The muttering in the crowd started again, but with an uglier undertone. Jenna had never been popular, but Alien was loved and respected by his people, and she was his wife.

  The baron held up his hands. "I've called you here to announce that they will be expelled. I want no chilling, as the rest of the party are not to blame. They will be escorted from the ville. If, however, they do so much as come near us again, then they will be chilled. That is my ruling."

  There was a buzz among the crowd as they debated between those who agreed with the baron, and those who favored a chilling. Dean put aside his own surprise, and moved to the front of the crowd, making ready to break into the circle.