Part 71 (2/2)

The news caused the Mute to look beyond the ruins of a once-promising career. 'You're crazy. You'll never get away with it.”

'You got a better idea?”

'No, but... ' Cadillac looked over his shoulder to see who was near by, then dropped his voice even further.

'There'll be eight pilots on parade tomorrow - twelve if you count the glider pilots. Even if we managed to steal a couple of planes they'd be able to follow us.”

'Then we must make sure they don't...”

Cadillac's eyes flickered uneasily as he considered the implications of Steve's reply. 'You mean. spike the rockets?”

'Something like that.” Steve wasn't yet ready to reveal' his hand.

'Any objections?”

'I don't know. I'm not sure.” Cadillac took another look round. 'I I need time to think about it.”

'There is no time!” hissed Steve. 'Tomorrow's our one and only chance! We have to take it!” 'But how are we ' 'Never mind how! Are you willing to go for it? Yes or no?”

Cadillac sighed heavily. 'Since I don't seem to have much choice, I suppose the answer's yes. Satisfied?”

'You don't sound too sure. Once we commit, that's it.

You're not going to be able to turn round and say - ”Sorry Mr s.h.i.+gamitsu, I didn't mean it”.”

'I know that! I'm not an idiot, Brickman. It's just that this is all happening so fast!” He swept both arms round the busy workshop. 'I worked my buns off to make all this happen.” He dropped his voice again. 'And now you're asking me to help you destroy it!” 'Yes, I am,' said Steve. 'Before it destroys you!” It was true, and Cadillac knew it. His face contorted as his mind twisted around like a fish trying to get off the hook. 'You still haven't explained how we're going to spike the rockets.”

'I don't have to. That's not how it's going to happen.”

'But ' 'Forget it! It's already been taken care of.”

Cadillac may have been robbed of all certainty about his future prospects, but he knew exactly how he felt about Steve. 'You lying sonofab.i.t.c.h! You gave me your word!” Steve bared his teeth. 'Yeah, that's right, I did!

Double-crossing you was the only way to save your a.s.s! If we'd played it your way we'd be standing here now wringing our hands. Instead of calling the shots we'd have been totally shafted! This way at least we've got a better than evens chance of making it back to Wyoming. So stop all this name-calling c.r.a.p and start cooperating?

Lord Hiro Yama-s.h.i.+ta had already begun his journey towards the Heron Pool some days before Cadillac reluctantly decided to terminate his career as a designer of flying machines. Accompanied by his usual entourage of aides and escorted by a hundred samurai and an equal number of foot-soldiers, he boarded his red and gold wheelboat for the trip down the Hudson River. At Na-yuk, the last river port in his domain, his party and their horses transferred to three large ocean-going junks which took them through the straits of Nyo-Yoko into the open sea to the south of Aron-giren, then north around the coast to the port of Ba-satana.

Yama-s.h.i.+ta would have had a much shorter journey if he had crossed the Hudson at Arib-bani and travelled to Ba-satana along the main east-west highway, but in this case distance was no object. He preferred to remain for as long as possible in an environment over which he had total control. Yama-s.h.i.+ta had made a triumphal progress by road through the domain of his close allies, the Se-Iko, but they were a long way from the centre of power. His friends the Min-Orota occupied a more vulnerable piece of real-estate.

It was 170 miles by road from Ari-bani to Ba-satana; a mere four-day journey. The trouble was the first eighty of those miles cut across the original domain of the Shogun's family, the Toh-Yota. From its southernmost point at Nyo-Yoko, it ran northwards between the Uda-sona and Konei-tika rivers to the great ice-river boundary that divided Ne-Issan from the Fog People.

While crossing their territory his column would have been exposed to prying eyes every step of the way. No.

Yama-s.h.i.+ta preferred the comfort and privacy of his own state-rooms especially when he was transporting a valuable and highly sensitive piece of cargo.

Packed inside a chest which, when opened, appeared to contain richly woven bolts of silk, was the engine which had powered the long-dog's original flying-horse.

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