"What?" said HMK. "You mean he just slipped past the guard on duty and snuck into our camp like a stealthy, silent wraith and absconded with them while we slept?"
"Yes," said Middenface.
"Oh come on."
"You're the one who was saying we keep on underestimating the man," said Middenface. "Maybe we're still underestimating him."
HMK stared at him, then looked away and shrugged. "I still don't buy it."
"Neither do I," said Johnny. "If he could slip into our camp like that, why not just slit our throats while we slept?"
"Ughh," said HMK. She shook her head. "But even assuming you're right, which I don't concede for a moment, how did he know where our weapons were hidden?"
"They were all high-tech ordnance," said Johnny. "Even Middenface's rifle had a computer-assisted sighting mechanism."
"So what?" said HMK. "Oh, I see what you mean. Anybody with an energy emissions detector could have found the weapons, no matter how carefully we hid them."
"Right," said Johnny. "I'm beginning to wish we'd brought along something more low-tech. Like mechanical handguns. Or even knives."
"Or sharp rocks," said HMK sardonically.
"Plenty of those around," said Johnny, scanning the desolate desert landscape with his glittering eyes. He frowned. "You know, maybe that's not such a crazy idea after all."
"Is this the right kind of rock, Mr Alpha, sir?" said Slim Drago. His big fists were full of samples gathered off the desert floor near the wreck of the drop ship. Johnny paused in his labours and sorted through the pile of stones. Three he selected, the rest he discarded.
"What we're looking for are flints," said Johnny, patiently. He kept two of the stones he had selected and handed the third back to Slim. "Look for more like this one."
"Like that one. Sure. Thank you, Mr Alpha." The big man lumbered off.
"He's not quick, but he gets there in the end," said Middenface. He moved closer to Johnny to see what progress he'd made. "How's it going there?"
"Slow but sure," said Johnny.
"Slow but sure?" said a third voice. They turned to see HMK standing beside them. "I'd say fast, but sure. My God, I hardly turn my back for five minutes and I come back and find you've turned into an assembly line."
"Not quite," said Johnny. "But we're not doing badly." On the ground in front of him was a pile of thin stone fragments, each no larger than a thumbnail. These were the discarded fragments from his work. In his lap were the fruits of his labours: three flat grey pieces of stone, leaf-shaped, thick at the centre and thin at the tip and each about the size of a man's hand.
"May I?" HMK picked up one of the pieces of stone and tested its edge with her thumb. "Ye gods, that is sharp. You managed that just by knocking pieces off it with another stone?"
"It's how our ancestors made their weapons," said Johnny.
"God bless human ingenuity," said HMK. "How many have you made altogether?"
"Three so far, plus the pair Middenface is working on."
Middenface reddened and looked at the misshapen chunks of stone that sat heavily in his own lap. "Actually, Johnny, I'm not sure I've got the hang of it. Maybe you should take over before I ruin them."
"Here, let me have a go," said HMK, sinking to the ground beside them. She took the pieces of flint from Middenface and, under Johnny's supervision, began to chip away at them with a chunk of harder rock, gradually flaking off pieces until the flint began to take shape as a deadly weapon. She was soon working swiftly and expertly. "You know, this is quite good fun," she said.
"Just wait till the blisters start," said Middenface, inspecting his own red ruin of a hand.
"You'll never guess what I saw out there in the scrub vegetation a moment ago," said HMK. "I went out there to attend to, ahem, a call of nature. And you'll never guess what I saw. Ray and Bel. Also attending to a call of nature. But they were going together."
"Must be another consequence of that shared digestive system."
"I have only one thing to say about that," said HMK, "and once again that's ughh."
Two hours later, the desert sun was high and remorseless above them, blazing steadily down, and the entire posse had shifted into the shadow of the wrecked drop ship. The work on the flint weaponry was going surprisingly well.
Johnny was using one of the flint blades he'd fashioned earlier to smooth and thin some lengths of wood gathered by Middenface. When he was finished, they resembled rods. Once he finished each one, he passed it to Granny Haxer, who carefully split the end, inserted one of the flint blades and bound it in place with strips of leather cut from the furnishings of the drop ship. "What we really need is animal tendons," she said as she tightened the leather strips on one spear. "Kill an animal, pull the tendons out, and use them to tie the head to the spear."
"How are you going to kill an animal?" said Stella Dysh, recumbent in the shade of the drop ship.
"Why with this little beauty here," said Granny, hefting the spear and admiring it. It was an impressive piece of handiwork. "It'll do until we can improve on it."
"And what are we going to do once we have all our spears and our little flint knives?" said Stella. There was a note of sarcasm in her voice that set Middenface's teeth on edge. If the damned woman couldn't help, why didn't she at least shut up?
Johnny took the spear from Granny Haxer and added it to the two they'd fashioned earlier. They lay on the ground beside half a dozen finished hand blades. Johnny inspected the pile of weaponry with a faint smile. "What are we going to do?" he said. "Well, I've got a plan. It's not perfect, but it's a plan. We're going to do exactly what we came here for. To go after Preacher Tarkettle and bring him down."
"How are we supposed to find Tarkettle?" said Middenface.
"We go to that fort," said Johnny.
"You mean the fort we saw in the mountains? The one with the cannons?"
"Do you know any other fort?" said HMK.
"Anyhow, that's my plan," said Johnny.
"But that's going to be a couple of days' march," said Middenface. "Maybe three."
"That's what I reckon too," said Johnny.
"And even if we can salvage some water from the drop ship, we've only got enough for another day, or maybe two," said Middenface.
"That's what I meant about it not being perfect," said Johnny.
"Maybe we'll find water on the way," said HMK. "I mean, there was that humongous waterfall with a giant river attached to it."
"The river and the falls are on the far side of the mountain," said Middenface. "They'll take even longer to reach."
"But we might find some other source of water along the way," persisted HMK.
"We might," said Johnny. "Now, I suggest we don't spend any more time talking about things we can't predict. Everybody who doesn't have guard duty should turn in for the night."
Middenface bedded down on the ground between the camp fire and the drop ship. He deliberately chose a spot near where Hari Mata Karma was sleeping. Although he didn't actually admit it to himself, he liked the woman and he felt that if she was in close proximity during the long desert night, something might happen. Something that would result in the two of them slowly and innocently snuggling together for warmth, and then, innocently and drowsily shedding their clothing and...
A moist tongue crept over Middenface's chin and cheek with a silky motion. His confused mind surfaced from sleep, an astonished delight mingling with anxiety at the fact that dawn was already breaking over the desert - he could see the glow of daylight through his closed eyelids. It was wonderful that his dream was coming true, but HMK had left it rather late. It would soon be full daylight and Middenface didn't fancy pursuing their dalliance with others awake and able to see them. "Couldn't you have slipped over a bit sooner, darling?" he murmured.
"I would have," said Johnny Alpha, "but our friend here just arrived."
Middenface's eyes snapped open. He found himself staring into two enormous, dark brown eyes staring down at h
im along either side of a black and tan muzzle. A wide, pink tongue lolled out between large teeth and licked his face again. Middenface rolled back, suppressing a shriek. It took an instant for his mind to identify the monster that was licking him.
"A horse!" he said.
"And he seems to like you a lot," said Johnny, staring down at his friend with amusement. He had one hand on the horse's flank, stroking it as the animal whipped its tail gently back and forth, apparently utterly content with its new friends.
Middenface scrambled to his feet. "Where the hell did it come from?"
"The same place as the others, I guess," said Johnny, patting the horse.
"Others?" said Middenface. He stared around the encampment and saw that there was a group of horses clustered over by the rear of the wrecked drop ship, where Granny Haxer was feeding them something from the survival kits by hand. There was a mist covering the area up to about knee height and some of the horses were of a greyish colour that made them look like phantoms, as though they were fashioned of the mist itself.
"A total of eight altogether," said Johnny.
"Without riders?"
"Without riders or saddles, though they seem tame enough. They came wandering into camp in the middle of my watch. I guess they smelled the food or something."
Middenface heard hooves pounding across the earth and turned to see HMK galloping towards them from the misty distance of the desert, riding bareback on a magnificent, black animal. He backed hastily away as she steered the horse towards them, but HMK brought it to a halt, reining it in with a professional flourish. She grinned down at Middenface. "Not bad, eh?" she said.
"HMK has already been taking them for a test drive," said Johnny dryly.
"Where did you get that bridle?" said Middenface. He felt he had to say something.
"Granny Haxer improvised it from some strips of leather leftover from the spear-making," said HMK. She slid down off the horse, patting its sweaty, trembling flank. "Good boy," she murmured.
"Uh well, that Granny is certainly handy with her... hands," said Middenface, lamely. He was still having trouble adjusting to this situation, and it didn't help that he'd been thinking he had HMK nuzzling him when in fact it turned out to be a great, hairy beast.
"Give her a couple of hours and she'll have made bridles for the rest of them," said HMK happily.
"The rest of them?"
"Naturally. We can get by without saddles, providing we use blankets or something to cushion the ride for some of the candy-asses in the posse." HMK stared around the camp with a critical eye. Granny was still feeding the horses, but now Ray and Bel were helping her. Slim Drago was clumsily trying to stroke and pet the animals, who seemed to be suffering his attention with forbearance, but little enjoyment. Stella Dysh was sitting by the embers of the campfire eating breakfast, and completely ignoring the horses. "But we're all going to need bridles of some kind if we're going to ride them."
"Ride them where, exactly?" asked Middenface.
"To Tarkettle's fort," said Johnny.
"You're not proposing..."
"That's exactly what I'm proposing." Johnny nodded at the horse. "We'll be able to make good time riding these new friends of ours. A lot better than on foot. We might even be able to reach the fort fast enough so we don't have to worry about running out of water."
"Running out of water? Look, Johnny," said Middenface, "What do you think these beasts run on? They'll need water themselves, and quite a fair amount of it."
"I know it," said Johnny Alpha. "But they look pretty well watered now, and if we share our rations with them we ought to be able to make it."
"You're not serious about this?"
"Do you have a better plan?" said Johnny.
Middenface looked at HMK, hoping she might offer him some support against this hare-brained new scheme. But she merely slapped the black horse affectionately on the side and clambered back onto him. "Mount on up, cowboy," she said to Middenface, "and get those doggies rolling. In this case, Strontium Doggies." She giggled and coaxed the horse away in an accelerating canter, dust rising from its hooves as it left Middenface and Johnny standing.
Middenface turned helplessly to Johnny. "But these horses..."
"I know," said Johnny.
"They're well looked after and well watered - you said so yourself-"
"I know."
"And there's exactly eight of them. And exactly eight of us."
"Right."
"Don't you find that just a bit convenient, Johnny? Don't you find it a wee bit suspicious?"
Johnny looked at him. "I've thought all the same things myself and I've come to one conclusion..."
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth?"
Johnny grinned. "I wouldn't put it quite like that."
"How would you put it, then?"
Johnny slapped Middenface on the shoulder. "Partner, we just don't have any choice." He turned towards the campfire, where Granny Haxer was now stirring the embers and adding kindling. Middenface hurried after him.
"But they could be booby-trapped, Johnny. They could have bombs inside them! Imagine that. Eight horses with bombs inside."
"That would make a hell of a mess all right," agreed Johnny. "What's for breakfast, Granny? We've got a long ride ahead of us."
The ride towards the mountain took the best part of the day. The posse made amazingly good time, considering that several of them had no previous experience on horseback. Both Johnny and Middenface were competent enough, HMK, of course, had demonstrated that she was something of an expert and Granny Haxer had done cavalry training in her days with the Colonial Marines. "Once you've learned to ride a horse you never forget," she said. "It's like riding a bicycle or making love."
"Two closely related pastimes," said HMK, bobbing along on horseback beside her.
Stella Dysh, too, proved to a surprisingly competent rider. "At last she's good for something," murmured Middenface, watching her trot along at the front of the group.
"Maybe the horses like the smell of her," said HMK. "All males seem to."
But Slim Drago was spectacularly incompetent on horseback, and both Ray and Bel were startlingly inept. The root of the problem seemed to be their fear of the animals. It was a totally unjustified fear, since all eight of the horses were gentle, patient and co-operative with their clumsy novice riders.
"They're obviously accustomed to humans," said HMK.
"They're more than that," said Johnny. "They're telepathic."
"Telepathic? Really?" HMK chuckled. "Will they be able to tell me what playing card I'm thinking of?"
"I doubt it, since playing cards don't really exist in their frame of reference. But they will be able to understand the mindset of a novice or unfamiliar rider and compensate for their lack of knowledge." Johnny patted the mane of his own horse, a beautiful grey and white dappled mare.
Middenface's animal was equally handsome, with bold black and white markings, which somehow seemed naggingly familiar. He had the feeling, every time he looked down at his mount, that there was something he should be remembering, something of vital importance. But the memory always remained just out of reach of his conscious mind. It was certainly an unusual colour combination for a horse. It made the animal look almost like a zebra...
"Telepathic horses," said HMK. "You're making this up."
"Nope," said Johnny.
"Are they mutations?" said Middenface.
"Like us," laughed HMK.
"Maybe they started out like that. But now they're the results of deliberate breeding and they have been for generations. They're very interesting animals. They've been bred to exist symbiotically with humans. Unlike your ordinary horse, they actually want to be ridden and they seek out human beings."
"They certainly sought us out," said Middenface.
"How sweet," said HMK. She caressed the broad powerful neck of her horse, stroking its gleaming black coat.
"They develop a kind of psychic rapport with th
eir riders," said Johnny. "Which is why even Slim Drago is managing to make some headway."
"You mean the horse is in charge, rather than the rider?" said Middenface.
"Something like that," said Johnny. "If the human can just manage to stay sitting on it the horse can sense the destination they have in mind and do the rest."
There was a cry of despair, followed by a loud dull thudding noise and a shriek of pain. Johnny and the others looked back to see Slim Drago lying on the ground, covered by a thin coating of dust, with his horse standing patiently beside him, nudging for him to get up.
"If the human can manage to stay sitting on it..." said HMK.
They arrived at the upward gradient that marked the beginning of the mountain slopes an hour before sunset. The horses slowed down, picking their careful way among spills of fallen rocks and finding trails that would have been invisible to the humans even in full daylight.
By nightfall they reached the fort.
The stone face of the structure gleamed in the cold light of a rising moon. Johnny ordered the posse to dismount while they were still a kilometre and a half away. "We go the rest of the way on foot," he said.
"Why?" hissed Stella Dysh in a piercing whisper that was louder than most people's normal voice. "So we can have sore feet when Tarkettle kills us?"
"So he won't hear us coming," said Middenface. He didn't bother to try and disguise the impatience or hostility in his voice.
"What makes you think he won't have hypersensitive audio tracking, motion sensors and spy cams?"
"Because he hates modern technology, you great fool," said Middenface. He turned his back on her and went over to join Johnny, who was busy distributing flint knives and spears.
Middenface expected the doors of the fort to present difficulties. They were large, each one about two metres wide and six metres tall and had been fashioned from thick planks of some kind of tropical hardwood. Each one was equipped with a black lock and handle made from wrought iron.
But the doors opened at the first tentative push and, in a way, that was much worse than if they'd been sealed and bolted. "Somebody wants us to come in here, Johnny," said Middenface in a tense, low whisper.
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