Читать книгу Black Harvest - James Axler - Страница 14

“Time to go,” the voice said.

Ryan stepped up to the door and pulled it open enough to look out. A sec man was standing in the hallway, one Ryan hadn’t seen before. “Time for the baron’s reception.”

The one-eyed man nodded and closed the door.

Krysty stretched lazily on her cot, getting the blood circulating again after a short but contented sleep. She turned to Ryan and said, “Can’t we stay here a bit longer, lover?”

“Yeah, but I’m curious to meet this baron, and to find out how he keeps his ville running.”

“I sure could do with something to eat,” Krysty said. She rose up off the cot and ran her fingers through her long red hair as if they were combs.

Ryan moved out into the hall where J.B., Doc and Mildred were already waiting.

“What about Jak?” Ryan asked.

“Sleeping,” Mildred said. “He’ll be out for another couple of hours. I’ll stay with him if you want.”

Ryan considered it.

“We’re just going down to the basement,” the sec man offered, overhearing their conversation. “You’ll be free to come back and check on your friend anytime you want.”

“I’ll come down with you to meet the baron,” Mildred said. “Then I’ll come back and stay with him. Maybe bring him some food.”

Ryan nodded, then noticed Doc shifting nervously from side to side behind J.B. He looked strange, different, as if he’d just passed a comb through his hair, then pasted it back with some sort of grease. His frock coat also looked cleaner, as if he’d hung it on a line and beat it with a stick to get all the dust out of its fibers.

Krysty was studying Doc as well. “Lookin’ good, Doc,” she said, joining the others in the hall.

“Thank you for noticing, my dear Krysty.”

The sec man gestured to Ryan’s SIG-Sauer and Krysty’s Smith & Wesson and said, “You won’t be needing your weapons.”

J.B. shook his head as if to say he knew the story would be changing.

Ryan looked hard at the sec man. “We don’t go anywhere without our blasters.”

“All right by me.” The sec man shrugged. “But the baron might have something to say about it.”

Ryan said nothing. The baron could say all he wanted, but they wouldn’t be giving up their blasters without a firefight.

The sec man led them down the hallway.

AS PROMISED, they were led into the basement of the mansion and into a large room that was set up as a dining hall. Paintings hung from the walls, and the floor was covered with a carpet around the edges and a hardwood floor in the center. There was a long, rectangular table on one side of the room with settings for twelve people.

On another table off to one side were pitchers full of fresh water and juices, and carafes of both red and white wine. There was also a series of small finger bowls, each one filled with different colored tablets. “Make yourself at home,” the sec man said. “The baron and the others will be here shortly.”

When the sec man was gone, the friends went to the table and sampled the water and wine. Both were clear. The water was tasteless, while the wine seemed a bit strong.

“What do you make of these?” Ryan asked Mildred, pointing to the bowls of multicolored pills.

Mildred shook her head. “I don’t know. Don’t recognize any of them.”

“Considering that these items are offered in conjunction with some truly excellent wines, I can only assume that they must be stimulants of some sort,” Doc said. “Perhaps even depressants.”

“Recreational drugs,” Mildred said. “In pre-Dark times, ecstasy was the drug of choice, especially among young people. Kids thought it was cool, but of course it was nothing but bad news.”

“So the baron’s a drug lord,” Ryan said, holding one of the pills, a yellow one, between his fingers. “Fireblast!”

Krysty eyed a tablet that was almost as red as her hair. “That’d be my guess.”

“Can’t say it comes as all that much of a surprise,” Mildred said. “He’s produced a lot of healing drugs. If he can do that, no reason he can’t make junk like jolt and dreem.”

“By the Three Kennedys, that would explain what bang is…and smash!”

“And now we know why his sec men have such good blasters,” J.B. offered.

“We’re leaving,” Ryan ordered. “Let’s get Jak.”

The friends turned to leave the dining room, but the doors at either end of the room opened up and sec men with blasters and scatterguns filed in.

“You can’t leave yet,” the baron said as he entered the room behind his sec force. He wore an immaculate lab coat and his clothes beneath it looked just as clean and fresh. “We haven’t even met yet.” There was a hint of disappointment in his voice, making it sound as if he were being sincere.

“We don’t associate with drug lords,” Ryan stated.

The baron put up his hands, almost in surrender. “It’s true, I do deal in drugs, but I assure you, only healing ones.”

Mildred gestured to the bowls of pills on the table. “Expecting some big headaches?”

“Ha, a sense of humor. I like that in my guests.” The baron moved toward the table holding the pills. “I’m merely trying to be a good host. Since I didn’t know what you liked, I simply offered you all that I have. I’m actually glad you don’t want to sample any of the drugs, since I don’t like them, either. Makes articulate speech rather difficult and compromises one’s judgment, two things I can ill afford as baron.” He waved his arms as if he were swatting unseen insects. “Take them away.”

A sec man hurried over to the table, picked up the bowls and carted them away.

“Now, if you’ll forgive my small mistake, let’s all share a meal, shall we?”

Ryan wasn’t in favor of joining the baron for dinner, but even if they wanted to blast their way out of the situation, they wouldn’t get very far. The sec men surrounding them could throw up a wall of fire heavy enough to cut down a small forest. There would be a fight, Ryan knew, but this wasn’t the time or place for it.

Reluctantly, he put away his blaster. The others followed his lead.

“Thank you,” the baron said.

The sec men also lowered their weapons.

“I better check on Jak,” Mildred said.

“Not to worry…” the baron’s voice trailed off.

“Mildred,” the doctor offered.

“Not to worry, Mildred. Your friend is fine, I assure you. Of course, you’re free to return to him whenever you like, but I wouldn’t be much of a host if I didn’t encourage you to eat at least a little something first.”

“I’ll take it back to eat in the room.”

“Fine, fine, now let’s get started. I’m starved.” The baron sat at the head of the table. Ryan and the friends took seats on either side of him.

At that moment, Moira entered the dining room, wearing a sundress and leather sandals.

“Ah, here she is now, the lovely Moira,” the baron said, “who I believe you’ve already met, down by the river.”

The friends watched the young woman enter the room.

J.B. leaned close to Ryan. “Sounds like they’re more than friends.”

“Mebbe she’s a big jack gaudy slut,” Ryan pondered.

“Isn’t she a thing of beauty,” the baron said, gesturing for Moira to take the seat next to him.

Moira appeared to hesitate, then reluctantly joined the baron at the table.

“She’s charming,” Doc offered.

Moira smiled in Doc’s direction.

Ryan had to admit that she was a good-looking young woman, especially now that she’d had a chance to clean up and put on some clothes. And the fact that Moira was the baron’s mistress explained why they had been treated so well since entering the ville. Any man would be grateful to the people who saved his lover from a gang rape. Still, if Moira was the baron’s lover, then why had she been so afraid of Robards and the sec men at the river? Ryan had never met a baron’s woman who didn’t act as if she ran the baron’s ville for him.

“Now that she’s here, perhaps we can begin eating.”

In minutes, a man and a woman were bringing in trays of food for them to sample. Most of it was grilled vegetables such as eggplant, zucchini and red and green peppers, but there was also some fresh corn bread, dried nuts and one small sausage each, the meat of which smelled like chicken but could have been anything from possum to snake.

Ryan was famished, and when the food began appearing on the table, he looked forward to eating his fill. However, something didn’t seem right with the picture.

Doc pointed out the problem to all of them.

“Uh, excuse me Baron DeMann,” Doc said, trying to be polite.

“Yes, sir,” the baron answered.

“Oh, I appreciate the compliment, but I assure you I’m not a member of any House of Lords. My name is Theophilus Algernon Tanner.”

“Theo…”

“Most people call me Doc.”

“Doc? Are you a scientist?”

Ryan looked at Doc, curious to hear his answer.

“Not exactly,” Doc said. “I have some knowledge of old sciences, and I dabble a bit in the new ones. I suspect I earned the nickname because I’m the only one in the group who can divide three-digit numbers without the use of a stick and patch of sand.”

The baron laughed at that.

J.B. seemed to find it funny as well.

“All right… Doc. What is it?”

“Well, when my colleagues and I saved your lovely, uh, mistress from certain harm, she was with another, older woman…”

“Yes.”

“Moira here referred to that woman as her mother…” Doc’s voice trailed off, leaving the question unsaid.

The baron nodded.

“Well, if she is her mother, and we saved her from the muties as well this afternoon, I just thought that, well, it would be nice if she could join us, too.”

The baron looked inquisitively at Robards.

“She’s not feeling well,” the sec chief said.

“But she was fine when she got off the wag this afternoon,” Doc said.

“Yes, bring her here,” the baron ordered. “I’m sure she’d enjoy the company.”

The sec chief slowly got up from his seat. “I’ll see if she’s feeling any better.”

“You do that,” the baron said.

“Thank you.” Doc nodded graciously.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mildred said, piling some vegetables on a pair of metal plates, “I’ve got to check on Jak. If he’s awake, I’m sure he’ll be hungry, too.”

“Give your friend Jak my regards,” the baron said.

“I’ll do that,” Mildred responded, collecting a bit more food for herself and preparing a tray for Jak.

The baron turned his attention from Doc to Ryan. “Am I right to assume that you are the leader of this group?”

“Name’s Ryan.”

“Then you are the leader?”

“You can assume that if you like.”

The baron said nothing for a moment. “As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve got a decent sec force here with plenty of well-trained men and some of the best blasters around.”

“We noticed.”

“Hard to come by,” J.B. interjected. “Some of those blasters look right out of the box.”

“Baron DeMann,” Ryan said, “this is J.B. He’s the weapons expert of our group.”

“A man who appreciates fine craftsmanship and design, no doubt.”

“Did you get your blasters new?” J.B. asked, avoiding any mention of the redoubt.

“I can’t be sure,” the baron replied. “I sell drugs. Good drugs that people need to survive. And when people are dying, they can get rather desperate. I can pretty well name my price for my drugs. I know that may sound hard, but I’m a trader and traders don’t give their wares away when they can hang on to them and get top jack.”

Ryan nodded. He’d seen top traders in action, and the baron’s assessment was right on.

“So, if I’m in the market for anything, be it blasters or blankets, I make sure I get the very best available. The best blasters, the best blankets, the best food, wine…”

“Wags,” J.B. said.

“Everything,” the baron responded. “The best that jack can buy.”

The baron paused and everyone took the opportunity to take a bite of food.

“I also like to think I have the best sec force of any ville in the area. They’re the best equipped and well trained, but one can never be sure about such things.”

“I’ve seen plenty sec men,” Ryan said. “Yours look as disciplined as any.”

“But are they the best?”

“Won’t know that until they’re tested in a firefight.”

“Exactly,” the baron said. Then he went silent, staring at Ryan a moment, as if expecting the man to comment.

“Not sure I follow you,” Ryan said.

“I have a favor to ask of you and your friends.”

Ryan shrugged. “No harm in asking.”

“We have an obstacle course we use for training sec men. In addition to blaster practice, I also use it for pitting sec man against sec man in order to see where they should fall in terms of rank.”

“Must make for a lot of dead sec men.”

The baron laughed. “No, not at all. I have blasters that fire tiny balls filled with colored water. They’re just like regular blasters, but can’t chill people. A good tool for training, and for turning poor sec men into good ones.”

“Point to all this?” J.B. asked.

“Well, my sec chief was wondering if you and your group might agree to test several of his best sec men in a contest.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, thanks. We’ve had plenty of real firefights out in the Deathlands. We don’t fight for sport.”

“I can appreciate that, and I would have the same opinion if I were in your shoes.”

“Then you know my answer.”

The baron said nothing for a while, thinking through the problem. “Ah, you need a reason to fight.”

“That’s right, usually it’s to keep from getting chilled.”

“A wise position, but I’m not about to try and chill you just so you’ll participate in my test. However, might I suggest that you agree to participate in exchange for the hospitality I’ve shown you and your friends.”

Ryan gestured to the food on the table. “We didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Quite right.” The baron nodded. “Then what if I said that if you bested my sec men, I’d be willing to provide you with as much ammo as you need when you leave my ville, as well as any medicines and supplies, uh, Mildred, might want to take with her. I’m sure those sorts of things are still useful to you in your travels.”

Ryan looked to J.B. “Running low all around.”

He turned to Krysty.

“Who knows?” she added. “Might be fun, firing a blaster and not chilling somebody for a change.”

Ryan sighed. “All right, we’ll play your game, but J.B. checks all the weapons before we begin, just to make sure we’re all using the same ammo.”

“Of course.”

“When?”

“Is tomorrow afternoon too soon?”

ROBARDS WALKED slowly down the street to Eleander’s residence. Thanks to one of the outlanders, he now had to bring the woman to the dining hall and have her eat and talk to the baron’s guests.

Dammit!

This was an unfortunate turn of events, but not a problem.

There were ways…

The sec chief turned to the sec man following him. “Go find Katz. Tell him what the problem is and bring him to Eleander’s home. And make it fast.”

The sec man turned and ran, double time.

MILDRED TAPPED on Jak’s door with the toe of her boot.

“Who there?” Jak asked. His words were followed by the sound of his .357 Magnum Colt Python being cocked.

“It’s Mildred,” she said. “Brought you some food.”

There was a metallic click on the other side of the door and Mildred knew it was safe to enter.

“I figured you’d be hungry,” she said, pushing open the door and entering the room.

“Guessed right,” he answered. He was sitting up on his cot, one arm hanging limply from the shoulder, the other rubbing a hand in circular motions over his empty growling stomach.

She put the food on the rough wooden stand next to the bed, then sat on the empty bed next to him.

“How’s your shoulder? Does it hurt?”

“No.” Jak shook his head. “You fixed good.”

Mildred lifted the dressing and saw that although there were still a few wet spots to the wound, it was generally healing nicely. She touched the bruised flesh with the point of her finger and Jak grimaced.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t say many words, you’re not a very good liar.”

Jak smiled.

“I’ll clean the dressing later. Right now you should eat. Build up your strength.”

“Food good?”

“Oh, yeah.” She placed a plate on his lap and gave him a fork. “Best we’ve had in months.”

THE WAG HAD PERFORMED flawlessly, taking its rider across the rad-choked land between the two villes in less than six hours. He had stopped twice along the way, once to refill his tank with alcohol, the other to refill himself with food and water.

Now he was approaching Indyville, the engine still running smoothly as the dusty miles fell beneath his wheels.

The ville’s lookouts would have spotted him by now, and the entire ville’s sec force would be on alert. That was good, because by the time he arrived there, the baron would be aware of his approach and curious to know what he wanted.

Now, as he neared the ville’s perimeter, the road got rougher. The surface of the road was spotted with holes and was covered with rocks and chunks of asphalt. He slowed the wag by half, the engine’s song falling from a high whine to a throaty growl.

The gates to the ville grew larger in his sights. Sec men stood on either side of the rolling door made of rusty rebar and sheet metal. One of the sec men signaled to him to slow down by waving both his arms over his head.

He waved back with just his right hand.

The entrance to the ville was less than a quarter of a mile away, and he slowed the wag further. Closer in, there were dead things on the road—the carcasses and bones of long-dead animals, fallen trees, strategically positioned rocks and the odd corpse of a mutie who made the mistake of trying to get into the ville. It was a strange way to protect the outer edges of the ville, but it was doing a good job of it.

The driver was forced to slow to a crawl, just to find a way through the maze of death and ruin.

But at last he was at the gates of the ville. He brought the wag to a stop, but left the engine running just in case it might not start again.

“What do you want?” the sec man asked. He was armed with little more than a pointed stick, but in the towers on the other side of the gate were several batteries of large-caliber automatic blasters, some of which were aimed directly at his head.

“Greetings from Baron DeMann.”

The sec man said nothing.

“I need to speak with Baron Schini.”

“About what?”

“Sorry, but I must speak only with the baron.”

“She’s not seeing anyone tonight.”

The driver nodded. He’d been told that he might be refused at the gate, and that’s why he’d been given a gift to present to the baron.

“I’ve brought a quarter pound of bang to give to the baron.” He took the small sack from his shoulder bag.

“I’ll take it.”

He quickly snatched it away before the sec man could grab it. “Sorry, it’s for the baron only.”

The sec man licked his lips, then sighed. He turned and raised his eyes to the top of the gate. “He’s got bang for the baron—let him in.”

After a few moments of silence, the large steel door started rolling to the left, giving him just enough room to enter the ville.

KATZ LOOKED at the body of Eleander lying on a cot in a corner of the lab. She seemed dead and lifeless, as if she wouldn’t become conscious for another few hours yet.

Robards was rearranging her clothing, hiding the slight welts, in order to make her presentable enough to bring to the baron.

“I can wake her up, but there will be a dangerous mix in her system,” Katz said. “If she takes anything else in the next twelve hours, it could chill her.”

“I’ll watch over her,” Robards said, his voice emotionless.

“And of course, there will probably be some slurring of her words—that is, of course, if she can speak coherently at all.”

“I’ll tell them she’s been drinking.”

“That’s probably best. She’ll seem drunk, might even feel like it, too.”

“Rad-blasted outland scum,” Robards said. “One of them took a liking to this bitch. Asked the baron if she could join them.”

“And the baron agreed?”

“The outlanders wanted to leave, and I instructed the baron to keep them here for a couple or few days, till my rider comes back from Indyville. And so when the old-timer asked to see her, the baron had no choice but to agree.”

“You could always say she’s turned in for the night.”

Robards shook his head. “Tried something like that, but this outlander was persistent. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Probably come here to see her if she doesn’t join them over there.”

Katz produced a large plunge-type syringe from his bag. “This will bring her around,” he said, then sighed. “But she’s your problem after that.”

Robards put a hand on his blaster and said, “Just do it!”

Katz gave Eleander the jab.

At first nothing happened, and then her eyelids fluttered open. “Where, what…” She put a hand on her forehead. “Headache.”

“Thanks,” Robards said.

“Don’t thank me,” Katz replied. “You’re on your own. I want nothing to do with this.”

Robards snickered. “You’re already involved.”

Katz shook his head. “You mention my name, and the baron will get the full story. About the others, too…” He closed his bag and left the room before Robards had a chance to respond.

At the sound of Katz’s departure, Eleander’s eyes opened wider. When she realized Robards was standing over her, she instinctively tried to move away from him, crawling backward like a spider.

“Relax,” Robards said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She looked skeptical.

“The baron wants to see you. Apparently, one of the bastard outlanders has taken a shine to you.”

A sleepy smile broke over Eleander’s face.

“Tidy up,” Robards said, pulling back the blanket. “I don’t want to keep the baron, or the outlanders, waiting.”