Death-Bringer

by Patrick Tilley

  As he did so, Steve and Cadillac felt a stinging blow on their cheeks that snapped their heads towards Mr Snow’s feet, then as he uncrossed his arms and swept the backs of his hands outwards, both young men were pounded by an invisible hammer-blow to the solar plexus which hurled them backwards against the side walls of the cave.

  The impact left them stunned and winded – and not a little fearful. Clearwater had used her power in a similar way to stop their knife-fight. They both got to their knees but stayed where they had fallen, trembling with shock.

  ‘Next time I will not be so gentle with you,’ growled Mr Snow. ‘A plague on both your houses! I invited you here so that I could talk with The Chosen, not to listen to the yapping of a pair of young jackals! Before you can lead the Plainfolk to greatness you must conduct yourself in a manner befitting the honour Talisman has bestowed upon you!

  ‘What is past is past! All that matters is what happens from here on in. I don’t intend to have my last days on earth ruined by a recital of your petty jealousies, so pull yourselves together!’

  Mr Snow pointed to the talking mats. Steve and Cadillac moved obediently back to their places on all fours like young lions responding to the crack of their trainer’s whip.

  ‘Let us set aside the question of Clearwater and your kin-sister for the moment and concentrate on the wagon-train. Do you have a plan which will enable us to seize and hold it for several hours?’

  ‘We’re still working on that,’ replied Steve. ‘But I’m beginning to see a way through. A lot depends on Cadillac being able to persuade the people aboard Red River that he’s someone else.’

  He let Cadillac explain their basic strategy then said: ‘Red River is tough nut to crack. Our only chance is to seize the initiative and throw them off balance. Your reported death is a step in the right direction.’

  ‘If they believe it.’

  ‘What more proof do they need? Roz will have told them that I believe you’re dead. But even if they don’t trust me completely, Malone has seen the body, and will have reported that the clan are in deep mourning.’ Steve smiled. ‘Your clanfolk are going to be pretty upset when they find out you’re still alive.’

  ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Carry on …’

  ‘We’ve decided to dispense with the services of Malone and his renegades,’ announced Cadillac. ‘I will then send false messages using his voice.’

  ‘I see, hmmm … I’ve always thought your gift of mimicry might come in useful one day. I hope it works.’

  ‘It already has!’ exclaimed Cadillac. ‘When we were –’

  Steve cut him short. ‘He’s brilliant, believe me. But let’s stick to Malone for the moment. We can talk about your impersonations some other time.’

  Cadillac subsided, tight-lipped.

  Steve ignored the hurt look. ‘We’ve decided to jettison his whole plan. Originally we thought of eliminating the renegade contingent and putting a hundred Bears on board but that still meant going up that ramp into an ambush situation. The only surprise would have been our unified force instead of one in which half the soldiers were going to turn their guns on the other.’

  ‘We would also have the power of the Old One.’

  ‘True,’ admitted Steve. ‘But the crew of Red River would still be geared up ready to repel boarders. Your job as “Malone” will be to kid them into thinking that everything is going ahead exactly as planned.’ He turned to Mr Snow. ‘Except that it won’t be. What we have to do is change both the timing and the nature of the attack.’

  Mr Snow nodded. ‘You mean go in early …’

  ‘Yes. And in a different disguise. The ramps still have to come down because that’s the only way we can get in from ground level, but apart from that we’ve got to come up with a whole new angle.’ To help Mr Snow understand the difficulties facing them, Steve explained the physical layout of a wagon-train and the variety of defensive systems its commander could bring to bear against an external attack.

  ‘And he’s backed by a battalion of Trail-Blazers. One thousand soldiers. Not all of them would be deployed in a ground action but they are all trained for combat. And they’ll all be on that train. Once you get on board and cut loose I’ve no doubt we can hold our own. The thing is, when you start throwing earth magic around –’

  ‘I must take care not to hurt Roz and Clearwater. That point had occurred to me,’ said Mr Snow.

  ‘Good. And on top of the basic element of surprise, which your appearance is an important part of, we’ve got another thing going for us.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Apart from their re-supply role, wagon-trains were designed for military operations against Mutes. Savages – or so they think – armed with knives, stone hammers and crossbows.’

  ‘And renegades armed with rifles,’ said Cadillac.

  ‘Yeah, but apart from Malone’s bunch – who were manoeuvred into this situation – no renegade would go up against a wagon-train. That’s the point I’m trying to make. The trains aren’t designed to resist an attack by Trackers! They’re vulnerable – as Cadillac proved last year. I haven’t got the whole plan worked out yet but I know exactly how we could open up that train. The trouble is, we don’t have any explosives …’

  Cadillac gave Steve and Mr Snow a thoughtful glance then said: ‘We’ve got a box of AP108’s, six packs of PX, detonators and timers. Will that help?’

  Are you kidding?

  Steve masked his delighted surprise behind a non-committal shrug. ‘Yeah. It’ll do to be going on with.’ He grinned. ‘Malone was wondering where that stuff had got to. Well done. You’re developing into quite a cagey customer yourself.’

  Cadillac accepted the compliment with a courteous nod. ‘I learned at the feet of a master.’

  ‘I asked you to work together, not form a mutual admiration society,’ snapped Mr Snow. ‘Are we in business or aren’t we?’

  ‘We’ve got the means,’ said Steve. ‘We just have to figure out the ways.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Plus the really big question – “Why?”’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why are we attacking Red River? I’ve already told you Clearwater can’t be moved. So what’s the point of risking the lives of your clanfolk. They’d be dying for nothing.’

  ‘Not entirely. Even if we spared the part of the iron-snake which holds Clearwater and your kin-sister, we can still destroy the remainder and collect the heads of a thousand sand-burrowers!’

  ‘Heyy-yaahhh …’ growled the two elders.

  Steve had forgotten they were there. He glanced towards the cave’s entrance chamber. The two wiry old Mutes clearly found the prospect appealing. ‘But at what cost?’ he demanded.

  Mr Snow hit the roof. ‘Cost?! The honour of the M’Calls is not a negotiable commodity that can be measured out like bread-grass seed! Long ago, did I not tell you that the Clan M’Call had the courage to face its own destiny? That time draws near! It is not enough to challenge the iron-snakes. They must be defeated! Utterly destroyed! The Lords of the Dark Cities must be made to understand that they can never enslave the Plainfolk!’

  ‘Heyy-yaahhh!’ This time Cadillac joined in as the elders chorused the traditional up-beat response. And to his surprise, Steve found his lips moving silently in unison with theirs.

  Mr Snow closed his eyes and sank back exhausted.

  Cadillac voiced the concern Steve shared: ‘Shall we return tomorrow when you have rested?’

  ‘No … no … I have something to say to you … something that must be said before this battle begins.’ Reaching out like a blind man, Mr Snow felt his way onto Steve’s forearm then took hold of his hand and did the same with Cadillac. For a dying man his grip was surprisingly strong.

  ‘Listen to me carefully, Brickman. I have known for a long time that Clearwater was to be taken from the land of Plainfolk. That is why you were sent to us. The Sky Voices spoke to me of your coming, and Cadillac saw your retu
rn in the stones … the blood and tears that would follow.’

  ‘So Motor-Head was right. I am the Death-Bringer…’

  ‘Yes, but you are not the enemy. It is those who seek to be your masters who are the base servants of Lord Pent-Agon, the Evil Destroyer, Sower of Hatred and Corrupter of Minds. Like us you are a pawn in a game whose scope and complexity we cannot begin to comprehend, a strolling player on a stage so vast there is room for every living creature on the face of the earth and whose back-drop is Mo-Town’s cloak of stars – the heavens and the worlds beyond!

  ‘Each of us moves along the path traced out for us. Paths that cross briefly or come together and run as one before separating again. You and I have journied together and now … the time of parting is near …’

  Cadillac’s eyes filled with tears.

  Mr Snow tightened his grip on his pupil’s hand and shook it roughly. ‘Don’t be such a ninny! There’s nothing to be sad about. The fate of the Plainfolk lies in your hands! I shall keep an eye on you from up there and if I see you making a bodge of it, I shall return as a precocious little brat and follow you around making helpful suggestions. Does that remind you of anyone you know – hhmmm?’

  Cadillac blinked the tears away. ‘I stopped doing that years ago.’

  ‘Yes, well, I haven’t gone yet, so stop that snuffling and pay attention.’ Mr Snow turned his eyes on Steve. ‘We have to attack the iron-snake in order to rescue your kin-sister.’

  ‘Roz …?’

  ‘You look surprised. Isn’t she the reason why you and Cadillac tried to kill one another? Wasn’t it because you wanted to free her?’

  ‘Yes … but that was before Clearwater was gunned down by the Skyhawk. Roz is now one of the team that is looking after her. If Clearwater has to go back into the Federation –’

  ‘It will be your job to look after her. Both of you will face many dangers before you return to the blue-sky world. Your sister has already begun that journey. She too was born in the shadow of Talisman and it is time for her to take her appointed place among her own people.’

  It took a moment for the full import of the words to sink in. ‘You mean Roz is a …?’

  ‘A Mute? Yes. Just like you.’

  Steve looked across at Cadillac and saw that he was equally stunned by the news. ‘But that’s –’

  ‘Impossible? You disappoint me, Brickman. A young man of your intelligence. Did you never ask yourself why you were so attuned to the overground? Had no fear of open spaces? Never became ill? You have carried the answers within you since birth – when your real identity was submerged.

  ‘That is the stranger who lurks in the deepest recesses of your mind. Whose whispers have frightened you for so long! Call him! Let him emerge from the darkness into which he was cast by your masters! Face your true self! Let your soul take wing!’

  Steve was gripped by a wave of panic as a babble of voices filled his inner ear, swelling and fading, reverberating through his mind. The voices became a torrent of sound. It seemed as if every word he had ever heard or uttered was being replayed simultaneously inside a vast cavern whose walls were lined with towering stacks of tape-decks.

  Close to fainting, he clutched at his head, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a soundless scream. There came a moment when the cacophonous barrage reached an unbearable intensity then gradually, the atonal jumble coalesced into a number of recognizable strands which rearranged themselves into a kind of music he had never heard before but which was as much part of him as his pounding heart.

  It reminded him of Mute mouth-music, but even that in all its richness was a pale imitation of the master-work which now filled his mind. The voices, touched with an unearthly purity and beauty, swelled, producing a triumphant chorus of sound, a soaring vibrant symphony that lifted his soul upwards and outwards, carrying him on a melodious wave of sound that washed against the stars.

  For one exquisite timeless moment he was bathed in the crystal clear harmonies that he knew, with unerring clarity, were at the heart of all creation. They entered every fibre of his being. He dissolved into the sound, became at one with the universe. And he sensed that Roz was there with him too. Then cruelly, the music began to fade, and with it the sense of overwhelming joy and wonder. Like a drug-addict trying to hang on to a dwindling high, he tried to fix the melodies and the feeling of exaltation in his memory but it slipped away and was replaced by a monotonous thudding beat.

  Steve became conscious of his heart pounding against his ribs. He raised his head and opened his eyes to find everyone watching him intently.

  Awesome-Wells and Boston-Bruin raised their right hands in a friendly salute.

  Steve tried to shake some of the confusion from his mind. He caught Mr Snow’s eye. ‘I’m sorry. Was I, err … away long?’

  ‘That’s okay. The Old One smiled benevolently. ‘The Federation did a good job on you. Unstitching all that must be a major trip.’

  Steve nodded. ‘Roz … She was there. She knows…’

  ‘Of course she does. That’s why she’s on the wagon-train.’

  ‘But how did you –?’

  ‘Don’t give me more credit than I deserve, Brickman. I didn’t know how she would get here. I just knew both of you would be coming. The Plainfolk have been waiting a long time.’

  ‘Who told you – the Sky Voices?’

  Mr Snow nodded.

  ‘I think I’ve heard them too.’ Steve looked at them in turn. ‘When did you guess?’

  ‘There was no guesswork involved. We’d been watching the skies for some time. Cadillac knew you were on the iron-snake. He saw your presence in a seeing-stone.’

  ‘But not your face,’ interjected Cadillac, anxious to get himself back into the conversation. ‘It was only when you crashed into the crop-field that I realized you were the cloud-warrior sent by Talisman.’

  ‘And I realized you were a Mute from almost the very first moment I set eyes on you,’ said Mr Snow. ‘And it was equally clear you didn’t know.’

  ‘Or didn’t want to know,’ added Cadillac.

  ‘That’s not true,’ protested Steve. ‘Okay, I tried to suppress the mental link between Roz and myself. When you live inside the Federation, that kind of thing is bad news. But we both knew we were different. And from the moment I took off on my first overground solo I knew I belonged here, in the blue-sky world. I just couldn’t figure out why.

  ‘To be able to survive for so long without becoming ground-sick, to be able to adapt so quickly, to find that – with a little practice – I could run with the Bears … only a fool would not have asked himself how such things were possible.’

  ‘Only you tried to find some other explanation.’ Annoyed that Steve had become the centre of attention, Cadillac had decided to adopt the role of public prosecutor.

  ‘Yes. But not because I would have been ashamed to discover I was a Mute. How could I feel that way when I’d fallen in love with Clearwater?’

  ‘That was because you discovered she had the skin of a sand-burrower!’ cried Cadillac.

  ‘No! That’s not true! Ask Mr Snow! I was smitten from the very first time I saw her. When I was made to bite the arrow! The Old One warned me off.’

  ‘That’s right,’ sighed Mr Snow. He caught Cadillac’s eye. ‘And now that we have reached a certain level of enlightenment, let us not cloud our achievement with more of this foolish rivalry.’

  Cadillac lowered his head briefly. When he raised it, his nostrils looked distinctly pinched.

  Steve ploughed on. ‘The reason I tried to find some other explanation was because I was looking for one that made sense! I mean I know who my mother was! Annie Brickman. And my father was the father of all my generation – George Washington Jefferson the 31st, President-General of the Amtrak Federation. Are you trying to tell me that they’re Mutes too?!’

  Mr Snow laid his hand on top of Steve’s. ‘The answer to that question lies at the heart of your world.’

  Steve knew what that meant:
the secret lay within the First Family or inside the data banks controlled by COLUMBUS. And like a moth drawn to a flame, Steve knew he could not rest until he had discovered what that secret was.

  ‘You look troubled, Brickman.’

  ‘That’s because he can’t accept it,’ said Cadillac. He wasn’t sure he wanted to accept it himself. Above all, he was extremely annoyed that Mr Snow had revealed the truth to both of them at the same time instead of telling him first.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ said Steve. ‘I’m not trying to find a way out. You and Clearwater are living proof that there are Mutes who look exactly like Trackers –’

  ‘Shouldn’t that be Trackers who look like Mutes?’

  ‘Listen! Whatever – okay?’

  Jeezuss! What a fucking nitpicker!

  Steve picked up the thread: ‘I don’t deny feeling that coming out onto the overground was like coming home. But feeling is not enough. Not for me, anyway. I’ve spent my whole life trying to control my emotions. If you want to get anywhere, you have to study the facts, reason things through.

  ‘Cold logic – that’s what counts. Emotions cloud your judgement. You can’t ignore them but if you let ’em take over, it’s not long before you don’t know up from down. I trust you, Old One. If you say Roz and I are Mutes then I accept you sincerely believe we are. But can you prove it?’

  ‘No, I can’t, and I don’t need to.’ He clutched his heart. ‘For a Mute, knowing – in here – is enough! You don’t need to know why! Open up, Brickman! Sweep away all that soul-shrivelling junk that’s been pumped into you by the Federation! Something happened to you a little while back, didn’t it? Something good.’

  ‘Yes, it –’

  Mr Snow cut him off. ‘There’s no need to tell me about it. I’ve been there. You touched the stars. That music you heard, those strands of melody are part of the fabric of the universe. That’s what you have to tune in to! All this so-called scientific knowledge dispensed by that electronic heap of garbage you call COLUMBUS is irrelevant! That’s not what this world is about. It’s weighing you down, stopping you realizing your full potential!’