Lost Gates. James Axler
really what you’d call an alliance. See, I didn’t get to be baron by cutting people in on the deal. You know how it works, right? You did learn from the great Trader, after all. And I’m betting he wasn’t the kind of guy to make an alliance where he could make a bargain. You know what I’m saying?”
Ryan stole a look at his companions. Doc still looked dazed, but the others had their attention on the baron. And there was no doubt that they, like Ryan, were totally clear on what Crabbe’s meaning might be.
“Okay,” Ryan said slowly, “let’s just say that we do know how to get from one base to another. Are you saying that the disk you’re looking for—the one that contains all the information you want on how to find the kind of stash you’re looking for, and how to go from base to base easily—is in one of the places on that list?”
Crabbe smiled slyly. “I think you know it is, Brian. But if you want to play it that way, then fine. I believe the marks on this paper show the bases where the disk might be. And they also have something that shows you how to work the thing—” he gestured at the mat-trans unit “—but I don’t understand the way that they used to write stuff down predark. There ain’t no one in the ville who does. That kind of stuff has never been any use to us before.”
“Couldn’t you just ask someone else to read it for you?” Mildred asked, breaking her silence. She could barely keep the sardonic edge from her voice. “Seems a whole lot of bother just to look for us to read a list for you.”
Crabbe stared at her. He seemed to be torn between towering rage and astonishment. The latter won out.
“For fuck’s sake, how do people as stupe as you get to be the keepers of the secrets? Fuck’s sake, Brian, haven’t you ever thought that it might be an idea to keep Millicent from opening her stupe mouth?” Before Ryan had a chance to answer, Crabbe sighed then continued. “Of course they know how to do it in places around here, but you think I’m going to let any of them in on the secret? I’d be forever looking over my bastard shoulder. Sure, I could say little about it, but there would always be questions. I don’t want to be distracted by those fucking insects while I’m about my work.”
“So you want us to read that list for you, then go to all of these places and try to find the disk you want,” Mildred stated, bristling at the way in which Crabbe had spoken of—rather than to—her. The fact that he kept getting their names wrong was also irritating her out of all proportion. “So what, Mr. Smart-ass, is to stop us finding your disk and then not coming back?”
Crabbe stared at her as though he couldn’t believe she could speak to him in this manner. “Brian,” he said softly, “you should really keep a better hold on your people.”
Ryan, on the other hand, was content to let Mildred lead, to see where it took them. “She has a very good question,” he said. “I would have asked it myself. So would any of us.”
Crabbe snorted, shook his head and turned away. It took him some time to compose himself. When he had, he turned back to them, shaking his head again.
“Shit, just how stupe do you think I am? Look around you. I got men with blasters aimed at you, could take you out anytime, and yet you still talk to me like I was shit. You’ve either got balls the size of a fucking boulder, or you’re triple stupe. And that I don’t believe. Is this your way of pushing me, see how far I’ll go?”
Okay, Ryan figured, maybe he wasn’t quite the stupe he had him figured for. But still, how was he going to work this out? And why the nuking hell did Crabbe assume the nonexistent disk was in one of those six redoubts out of the dozens in the Deathlands? It just didn’t make sense.
Crabbe stood over them. He gestured to the rear of the room. “You’ve seen the sec. McCready doesn’t like you, I can see that from his face. Nelson’s a mean bastard. That’s why I put him in charge. He’d gladly blow you all away now. He’s sick of chasing you and getting nowhere, so he might be relieved that you’re here now, but he still fucking hates your guts for all the trouble you’ve caused him. All I’ve got to do is say. But if I do, just ’cause you’re all a pain in the ass, I have a problem.”
“What we know,” J.B. stated. “You want it. And not just that.”
“No,” Crabbe said softly. “Not just that. What then, J.T.?”
“You want us to go on the hunt because you don’t want to leave here. You want to stay at the center of things.”
“Smart man. I don’t know what lies at the end of each journey. Might be nothing, might be someone like me. I’d rather you faced that. You’re used to it. And you’ll come back. I can make sure of that.”
Again, the sly smile crossed his face.
“See, you don’t think I’d go to all the trouble that I have and then just let you go off as you are, do you? Do I really look like that kind of a fuckwit? No, I have a real simple plan. I might not be able to read, but I can count. Six lines on this sheet,” he said, holding it up in front of them once more, “and six of you. So I pair you up, and while one of you goes and searches, then the other four are my prisoners here. If you don’t come back, then say hello to the farm.”
“What’s to stop any of us taking our chances?” Ryan questioned.
Crabbe laughed. “From what I hear, with you people it’s all for one and one for all. That’s your strength. Thing is, it’s also your weakness.”
Chapter Five
Crabbe was, as he was so fond of telling everyone, a fair man. Certainly, he had continued to say that to Ryan and his companions many times, until they had reached the point where it was like the drip of water torture, the syllables like spikes to the brain. It was an interesting definition of fair under which he worked. In essence, although he would give them no real choice over the undertaking of the mission—do it or buy the farm—he wouldn’t expect them to embark without some kind of rest or recuperation. Because he was fair. Not because it had been his sec men who had dragged them across wasteland while bound hand and foot.
So, it was fairness that came at a price, and with a large amount of provision. But tiredness and the erosion of spirit that came with aching weariness could do a lot to alter perspectives. What would have seemed very little, if not an insult under any other circumstances, was now welcomed.
Crabbe decreed that it wouldn’t be fair to his new “partners” in the business of finding the disk if he didn’t allow them to rest and prepare for the task ahead. It occurred to all of them that this may have had something to do with the fact that a rested and prepared team was more likely to succeed. But to say as much would have been pointless at best, and provocative at worst. Leave it until the time was right to strike.
After all, Crabbe did have a point. None of them was in a fit state to take on anyone. Sore, aching limbs were matched by a fuzziness of the mind, an after-effect of the drug that had enabled Valiant to sell them like so much feed.
So it was with an overwhelming sense of relief, rather than anything else, that they allowed themselves to be led to the redoubt’s dorms. McCready escorted them himself. He was hostile and suspicious, and so would trust none of his men not to screw up. After Crabbe dismissed them, McCready and three of his men accompanied the companions to the level on which the dorms were housed. Before they left the baron and Sal to pore over the sheet that held, allegedly, the answers sought by Crabbe, Mildred stopped to ask if she could visit the medical facilities. When Crabbe, suspicion showing in his tone, asked her why, she indicated Doc.
“If you know anything about us, then you know that he’s a little crazy at the best of times. I think he took a hell of a blow on the head, and the last thing you want—shit, that we want—is him going a little more crazy on our ass.”
Crabbe had looked at the still dazed Doc, who grinned blankly when he saw the baron focus on him, and had decided that she was right. So two sec men accompanied Mildred while she went to the medical facility. To her surprise, it hadn’t been looted.
“So