"But Mr Zo explained," said Middenface. "It's too dangerous."
"I've never heard of any safety rules like that before," said HMK. "If you ask me, what's really dangerous is landing on that planet without a gun between us."
"But the drop ship with our supplies will be landing at the same time we do," said Middenface.
Johnny Alpha shook his head. "I agree with HMK. I think the three of us should each take one small, easily concealed weapon on board our drop ship. Just in case."
"A man after my own heart," said Hari Mata Karma.
Middenface felt an odd sense of guilt as he went through his equipment and selected a suitable sidearm to conceal on his person. It was as if he was betraying the confidence of Mr Zo by breaking his rules. Nonetheless, he was willing to trust Johnny's instinct - and HMK's. Finally, Middenface settled on a T-rifle, a high velocity projectile weapon that consisted of a telescoping barrel, which contained its own supply of three rounds of ammunition in a cylinder no larger than a pen. The cylinder could be extended to half a metre in length and was then attached to a wooden stock, which allowed it to be aimed and fired with precision. But there was a secondary trigger mechanism on the barrel itself, so Middenface left the cumbersome stock with the rest of his luggage and slipped the pen-sized object into his boot. Once on the planet, he could always improvise a crude stock out of local wood and attach the barrel to it. Or even, in a pinch, use the telescoping barrel without a stock at all. There would be a consequent reduction in accuracy and ease of use, but the T-rifle would still be a formidable weapon.
Middenface met Johnny and HMK in the Charles Neider's lounge bar by prior arrangement, an hour before landfall. The spacious, mahogany-lined bar was deserted except for the three of them. Chrome and bottles gleamed behind the black marble bar and the orange globe of Santo Segrelle hung in a field of stars on a wide viewing screen above the low, dove-grey couches and armchairs that filled the room. "So what did you chose?" said HMK. Her face was flushed with excitement and Middenface didn't know if this was the result of the mission they were about to embark on, or the conspiracy they had just entered into.
Middenface showed her the T-rifle and she squealed with delight. "Excellent," she said. Johnny just nodded with approval. Middenface slipped the weapon back into his boot.
"What about you two?" he said. Johnny showed them a compact handgun which, he had dismantled and placed inside the canteen that he wore on his belt. The component parts of the gun nestled snugly in the canteen, with some soft wadding added to prevent a telltale rattle.
"Ingenious. You just have to remember not to fill it with water," said HMK.
"I reckon so," said Johnny. Middenface smiled. His friend would never make a foolish blunder of that nature, although Middenface had occasionally been known to do something like that.
"And as for myself," said HMK, producing a polished ebony cigarette lighter. She grinned expectantly at Johnny and Middenface.
"It's a cigarette lighter," said Middenface. Although he already suspected what the little woman had done, he had no intention of spoiling her fun.
"So you might think," said HMK triumphantly. She thumbed the lid of the lighter and, instead of a tiny flame, a large, wavering tongue of optically distorted air shimmered above the lighter. "It's a Velvett vibrosaw. I got the idea from the weapons shop. They kept going on about it being no bigger than a cigarette lighter so I thought, why not conceal it inside a cigarette lighter?" She snapped the weapon off and smiled at them.
"Do you smoke?" said Johnny.
"Do I what?"
"Do you smoke cigarettes?"
"No. Why?"
"Because it might seem strange for you to be carrying a cigarette lighter if you don't smoke," said Johnny.
"Details," said HMK, shrugging dismissively.
From the lounge bar, Johnny, Middenface and HMK went directly to the launch chamber to board the drop ship. they didn't need to worry about their equipment because a team of the starship's crew was busy collecting it from their cabins and loading it onto the second drop ship. The crew was dressed in striped blue and white jumpers, navy blue leggings and plimsolls. They were all attractive young women. Middenface believed he recognised several of the gardeners from Zo's mansion among them. "The man certainly likes a pretty girl," he said to Hari Mata Karma.
"Yes he does, doesn't he? The disgusting, pathetic old pervert."
"He's not so old," said Middenface and they both chuckled as they followed Johnny onto the drop ship designated for personnel. The others were already on board: Slim Drago, Stella Dysh, the twins and Granny Haxer. They were all sitting upright in the contour couches that were set in twin bays of vertical alcoves facing each other at the rear of the drop ship. The whole front section of the ship was sealed off on the far side of a steel bulkhead. "Where's the crew?" said Middenface.
"No crew," said Johnny. "It's robot controlled." He sat down in a contour couch facing Granny Haxer. "About time you showed up, sonny," she said. "I was beginning to think we'd have to go without you."
"How could I miss going on a trip with a beautiful young lady like you?" said Johnny and Granny Haxer erupted in ribald, phlegmy laughter.
"Your friend's such a charmer," said HMK to Middenface as they settled in their contour couches and buckled in. They had Johnny to their left and Slim Drago to their right. Opposite them sat Bel and Ray, flanked by Granny Haxer and Stella Dysh. The eight Strontium Dogs looked at each other and fell silent for a moment.
"Let's get this show on the road," said Johnny. He touched the communications patch on his shoulder and said, "Ready for launch."
The drop ship was a wedge-shaped dart painted in the yellows and browns of desert camouflage. It dropped from the silver belly of the Charles Neider. Flame flared briefly in the tail of the drop ship and its nose dipped towards the great reddish arc of the planet below them. As it descended towards the outer atmosphere of Santo Segrelle, the second drop ship - an identical vehicle - emerged from the Charles Neider, flared its manoeuvring rockets and followed its sister in a controlled descent.
Inside the first ship there was a brief, stomach-heaving interval of weightlessness before they hit the atmosphere of the planet below. "I hope I don't lose my dinner," said Granny Haxer. "Those were some mighty fine pork chops we had for our farewell meal. It would be a real shame to waste them."
"I hope I don't lose our dinner," said Ray, looking at his sister and stressing the plural.
"Yes," said Bel. "It would be a shame before I got a chance to do my half of the digestion."
"Stop it you two," said HMK, "or I'm liable to lose my dinner."
"Screen on," said Johnny, as their descent steepened, the drop ship accelerated and the G-forces began to build. An oval of air about a metre high shimmered in the space between the Strontium Dogs, flickering to life in a holographic image of the planet below. At first it was impossible to make out any details, just smears of orange, white and pale green. But in a moment these vast, abstract streaks began to resolve into desert, cloud and ocean. The white mass of cloud grew steadily until it filled the holo screen.
"Entering atmosphere," said Johnny. "Brace yourselves for turbulence."
The drop ship entered the thin upper air of Santo Segrelle, falling nose first and gathering speed as the planet's gravity drew it down to the great deserts below. The tan nose of the drop ship began to flare and flash as the friction of air warmed it and within a few seconds it was glowing a fierce bright red.
Inside the well-insulated ship, the Strontium Dogs felt no change of heat, but they did feel the impact of the high velocity winds that shrieked and whooped outside, haunting the upper atmosphere of the planet in a wild banshee chase. As Johnny had predicted, there was considerable turbulence. The drop ship was buffeted violently as it plunged towards the orange world.
The Strontium Dogs were thrown around in their seats, but the contour couches held them firm in their protective, jelly-like grip. The high impact cushion sy
stems moulded themselves to their bodies and compensated for any external motion, but the couches couldn't compensate for the motion of the ship as a whole and when it hit a pocket of spectacular turbulence there were involuntary cries from Slim Drago and Stella Dysh.
"We'll level out in a minute," said Johnny. "Everyone just hold tight."
"Hold tight, hell. I'm enjoying the ride," said Granny Haxer. "It's a regular bucking bronco."
"Bucking bronco?" said HMK. "Has that damned Asdoel Zo got to you as well, with his insane wild west fixation?"
"Mr Zo was gentleman enough to show me around his library," said Granny Haxer.
"Some library," sniffed HMK. "Three hundred different editions of Zane Grey. Not exactly the greatest literary achievements of man."
"Oh hell," said Granny Haxer. "I liked his cowboy books well enough, but they didn't set me off. I've always been a cowgirl at heart."
The drop ship bucked wildly again, lifting up in the atmosphere then dropping again. Granny Haxer whooped with glee and HMK began to look distinctly bilious again.
For some time the holo screen hovering before them had shown an unrelieved expanse of fluffy white. Suddenly the cloud cover broke and they got their first real look at the planet. "God, look at that," said Stella Dysh in awe.
The landscape below was an endless stretch of coral pink with deeper red-brown streaks. It was a vista of desert and mountain, with spiked peaks of rust coloured rock rearing up into the atmosphere like jagged fangs hundreds of kilometres high. Squeezed between the clusters of mountain peaks was a long, thin crack of valley, like a scar stretching and twisting across the pale pink flesh of the desert. Deep in the valley, which must have been several thousand kilometres in length, there was the threadlike green glint of a river.
"Yes, it's just a picture postcard," said HMK, swallowing hard. "Let's hope we get to send some snapshots home."
"Change vantage point," said Johnny to his control patch. "Present view above ship."
"Why do we want to see above the ship?" said Slim Drago. Then he said, "Oh, I see," as the image changed to a view of white clouds. The brown-green dart of the second drop ship was bright against them and growing in size.
"Just checking that we haven't lost the other ship with all our luggage," said Johnny. "Resume forward viewpoint." The holo screen snapped back to its original image of the planet's surface growing below them. The sharp spires of mountain were growing from stalagmites to giant towers as the drop ship descended towards them. The largest of the peaks was in the centre of the screen and the drop ship seemed to be heading directly for it. The red stone scarp of the mountain grew in their view with unnerving speed.
"Uh, this ship does know how to land itself, doesn't it?" said Middenface.
"I guess we're about to find out," said Johnny.
The mountain peak filled the screen and Middenface could see that the upper slopes of the giant fang were streaked with irregular chevrons of white. Ice. The walls of the mountain, which had seemed like a smooth and uniform pink, began to reveal networks of black cracks and fissures. Deep in the black cracks there was the intermittent silver glint of running water as the melt from the ice descended the steep mountain slopes in endlessly falling streams. The drop ship seemed to be targeted on one of these winding, stream-filled fissures at the extreme left of the screen. The fissure moved inexorably to the centre of the screen, swiftly filling it. The thread of water also grew and Middenface realised that it wasn't merely a stream, but an enormous tumbling river. The silver glint of it fragmented into white splashes of wild foam and roiling green surfaces of moving water as the river grew in their vision. Middenface could see trees and thick mats of vegetation clinging to the steep banks the river had carved in the red mountain slope.
The river quickly filled the screen. "At least if we're going to crash it'll be in water," said HMK.
"Don't talk about crashing, please," said Stella Dysh. "It's tempting fate."
"I agree," said Bel. Her brother, for once, remained silent.
"A person makes their own fate, is what I reckon," said Granny Haxer.
"It's what I reckon too, Granny," said HMK. She winked at Middenface, who reflected that with the drop ship plummeting towards an uncertain, problematical and possibly even fatal landing it was the women who were busy chatting and wisecracking while the men remained tensely silent. He tried to think of some devil-may-care thing to say, but it just wouldn't come. His eyes were fixed on the holo screen and the wild-twisting surface of the river which was rushing towards them, foam and floating logs visible on the shifting water. Middenface closed his eyes and braced himself for a violent splash-down. Even as he did so, he felt the drop ship level out. He opened his eyes and saw that they were flying over the surface of the river, following its course, with the steep banks of mountain rock flitting past on either side.
"We're following the river," he said.
"I guess this must be the best way of getting to wherever we're going," said Johnny, tersely.
The drop ship sped along in the semi-darkness of the narrow river canyon, twisting and turning in smooth high-speed manoeuvres along the apparently endless river until, finally, Middenface glimpsed daylight ahead of them. The drop ship rose above the rushing green water and burst out of the shadowed river canyon into bright daylight.
"Well, would you look at that," said Granny Haxer in awe.
They had emerged at the base of the mountain, where the river spilled over a wide shelf of rock and fell dozens of kilometres to the ground below, spray rising in hectares of boiling mist. "It's a waterfall," said Slim happily. "A pretty waterfall."
It was more than a pretty waterfall. Middenface estimated the speed of their flight against the length of time it took them to cross the width of the falls and performed a quick calculation. "It's about ten times the size of Niagara," he said.
"Just the place for a honeymoon, then," said Granny Haxer.
"Or ten honeymoons," giggled HMK.
"You ever been married?" said Johnny. HMK glanced at him, giving him the strangest look for a moment. Then it passed and she looked away, gazing at the holo screen.
"What's that?" she said.
"I don't see anything," said Middenface, still wondering what that strange look meant.
"I see it," said Johnny. "Down there on the left, in that range of cliffs."
"What is it?" said Stella Dysh.
"Some kind of structure," said Johnny, peering at the screen with intense concentration, as though his strange eyes could discern hidden details. Middenface squinted at the screen, too. At first he couldn't see anything except a tumble of gargantuan rocks, each one bigger than a space station, that littered the skirts of the mountain's lower slopes. Below the jumble of rocks the mountain slope levelled out and then ended abruptly in a steep shelf, similar to the one that had created the giant waterfall.
This shelf descended to the desert below in a broad flat cliff face, riven and pocked in places by earthquakes, landslides and glacial erosion. It was in one of these depressions in the cliff face that Middenface spotted it: a group of buildings apparently carved from the native stone.
The drop ship was descending swiftly towards the hole in the cliff face and the sandy coloured stone buildings clustered inside it. At first Middenface thought they were heading directly towards it, but then the attitude of the craft changed and he realised that they were merely going to fly by it, passing it on their left. By now Middenface could get a proper look at the structure and he realised that rather than a group of buildings it was one large building with several towers jutting from it. "A man-made structure," said Johnny.
A narrow passage in the cliff face wound up towards the building at a steep angle, providing access along a kind of primitive road, which ended at the foot of it. The walls of the building rose up from this point, ending in what Middenface remembered was called a crenellated pattern, a series of openings and screens like gaps in teeth.
"A man-made structure?
" said Slim.
Middenface realised that the place was a fort.
"But there aren't supposed to be..." said Bel.
"Any men here..." said Ray.
"Except for Preacher Tarkettle," said HMK.
Middenface suddenly remembered why forts had that crennelated pattern on their battlements. They allowed defenders to look out on any approaching force and fire on them...
At that exact instant, Middenface belatedly noticed the ranks of cannon poking their muzzles out through the crennelations. Muzzles that flickered with sudden flame.
"Hang on!" shouted Johnny, just as the first cannon balls struck the craft with a sound like a giant hammer striking a giant anvil.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE FIEND TARKETTLE
Charlie Yuletide leaned against a cactus in the blazing sun of the desert. His horse stood patiently waiting, tethered to the cactus, as he plucked chords on his banjo and began to sing.
"Johnny and the others were in a heap of trouble. Their ship was going to turn into a heap of rubble."
There was a sudden banshee shriek of feedback and the horse reared back in alarm as Charlie Yuletide gave a scream of pain and tore something from his ear, flinging it to the ground. It was tiny, gleaming disc of metal. The kind used for audio communications.
Charlie Yuletide rubbed his ear, wincing. "You idiots," he said, his western accent strangely gone. "You nearly deafened me. I'm activating the injury clause in my contract."
For a moment after the iron tremor of impact, Middenface thought that nothing had happened to the drop ship. His mind was racing, weighing and selecting facts. Fact: it was a fort. Fact: there were cannons on the battlements. Fact: the cannons were aimed at them, firing at them, and had hit them.
But there were other facts, equally salient and equally important. Asdoel Zo had told them that Tarkettle was the only person on the planet, so he must be firing the cannons. Zo had also said that Tarkettle had an aversion to any kind of modern weaponry. So the cannons must be of an old fashioned variety. The kind that would have been used in the American west in and around the nineteenth century.
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