"Seems like he can't wait to get away," Elias remarked as they watched the sec boss leave. His implication was clear and Mildred found herself taking a strong dislike to the giant beside her.
"Might be more than one reason," she said pointedly. "So, you want to stop being interested in things that aren't your concern and show me what I want to know?"
Elias nodded and began to lead her around the pens and the area covered by the livestock farm. Sensing the guarded hostility in her stance, he changed his tone and was serious as he gave her a full report of the livestock farming activities. When he had finished, and they had come full circle, he excused himself, saying that he had to carry on with his allotted task. It was only then that a certain amount of sarcasm filtered through into his voice, causing Mildred to watch his back with a degree of skepticism as he turned and walked away.
Something told her that his anger and dislike of Markos had been turned on her, as well. There was something about the giant that made her wary, but it wasn't anything that she could pin down exactly, which made it all the more unsettling.
Mildred stood watching him for a moment, then turned and walked back toward the ville. To return to the baron's quarters and Sineta, she had to walk through the housing on the edge of the ville. At this time of day—it was now midmorning—this part of the ville was deserted, the populous being either occupied at the center, the beach, the farms, or out hunting. It was quiet, and Mildred walked freely, pondering what role Elias played in the drama of Pilatu. She was aware that he was Markos's rival for Sineta's hand, and why Barras had made him such; she also knew that the baron's daughter didn't trust him. To what lengths would he go to gain power now that the Pilatans were to move to the whitelands, particularly in view of his rival Markos's own opinions?
It was a measure of Mildred's distraction at the manner in which she had become embroiled within the culture and politics of Pilatu that she had slipped into a reverie despite the attack a few nights before. Her attention wasn't focused on the outside world, and it was only when chippings from the adobe wall to her left hit her ear, and she saw the cloud of dust thrown up by impact, that she realized that she was being fired upon.
Any cogitation on island politics was pushed to the back of her mind as instinct took over. Mildred threw herself forward into a roll, eyes darting back and forth for a place to take shelter. Where the hell was the firing coming from? Another shot pockmarked the earth in front of her, throwing up another cloud of dust.
Mildred thanked the Lord that whoever was firing at her had lousy aim, and tumbled toward the doorway of a house. She was acutely aware that whoever had fired had access to the armory for the simple reason that the shots had made no sound. Whoever was shooting had a blaster with a fitted silencer. Even in the almost total silence of the deserted street, there was no sound to alert her or to give her an indication of position. The only thing she was able to determine was that her assailant must be some distance away for even a silenced blaster to be silent.
She jerked away and narrowly avoided receiving a splinter through her eye when the next shot took a chunk out of the door frame where she was taking shelter. Time to move out.
As she scuttled across the street, keeping low and moving quickly, trying to present as small and awkward a target as possible, she figured that he had to be firing from somewhere over to the right. From the low angle of the shots, he had to be fairly high. In one of the houses or on top? Taking a second to glance up as she moved, she could see no one on the rooftops. But could she stop to scan enough to take in distance? After all, he had to be some distance away.
No time. Another shot hit the dirt in front of her, kicking up a cloud.
Where the hell could she go? There were no open doors, and if the ones she tried were locked, she would present an easy target in the time it would take her to find this out. Dammit, where could she go? Maybe she could double back and try to make the last alley she had passed. If she took the one on the right, it would make for an almost impossible angle and her assailant would have to reveal himself in some way to get a better shot at her.
She turned back, spinning on her heel. It was a clumsy maneuver when she was still trying to keep low and small, but the sudden change of direction should— she hoped—compensate for how slow it would make her. A hope that was confirmed when the next shot hit the wall of a house farther in front of the direction she had turned from. It could buy her the few moments she would need to make the alley.
However, the assassin had to have had reflexes that were better than his aim, as the next shot hit the wall beside her.
"Shit!" she cursed, not expecting to have her direction tracked with such speed. She could see the alley up ahead to her left after she had reversed direction. It was only a few yards away.
Mildred felt a stinging blow across her forehead, as though someone had tried to carve their initials with a red-hot poker across her head. She was aware of nothing else except the ground coming up the short distance to meet her.
She didn't feel herself hit. She was already unconscious.
IT WAS ONE HELL of a headache. She didn't think she had been out for long, but it had been long enough— certainly long enough for two sets of footsteps to approach her from the same direction.
Part of her wanted to cry out to them for help, but a small voice inside told her to play possum until she was sure they were friend not foe. It was the right call.
"Is she chilled?" someone murmured. It was a voice she couldn't quite identify because it whispered, but it was familiar. The other, when it replied, was immediately identifiable.
"She's not moving, and not talking, and that's something for which we must be joyous," Elias said in a quiet voice barely louder than his companion's.
"This is not the time for humor," snapped the unidentified voice. Mildred desperately wanted to open an eye to see who it was, but knew this would bring certain death.
"Who said I was being particularly funny?" Elias returned. "She talks too much, and is a pain in the proverbial ass, whether you mean posterior or animal. She's come between Barras, Sineta and my attempts to wheedle my way into that loathsome woman's favor. The only good thing I can see about her, as far as I'm concerned, is that she's taken your brother's mind off being my competition."
"Do not bandy words or push whatever luck you may have left," the second voice raged, attempting to keep a low voice despite the level of rage causing his words to be little more than a venomous hiss.
So the second voice belonged to the albino Chan? Mildred found it hard not to show any amazement as she lay there. The arbiter of integration and the prophet of separatism made for strange bedfellows. What could have brought them together, and why was their venom directed toward her?
More to the point, what the hell was she going to do lying here playing possum with two enemies upon her, at least one of whom was armed?
They were within feet of her now and would soon determine that she was still alive. Not for long, she was sure. But as long as they kept arguing, it gave her some time to think.
"I wouldn't get overexcited if I was you," Elias said with that sardonic calm that Mildred had found so infuriating earlier and that seemed to have the same effect on his uneasy ally. "I believe it was my shot that actually claimed the bitch, rather than yours. That gives me the moral advantage, I believe."
"You?" Chan spit. "You have no idea of what the word even means. Do not talk to me of such matters. This is pragmatism, pure and simple."
"Of course, whatever you say…and your motives are pure at heart, are they?" Elias mocked.
"My motives are not your concern, although they are fueled by the likes of yourself."
Elias sighed. "Whatever you say. I would suggest, however, that rather than discuss philosophy with this creature sprawled in front of us, we would be better employed disposing of her."
Chan snorted. "We haven't even checked whether or not she is breathing."
"Then all the more reason
to do so. If she's still alive, we carry her off and finish the job where we're going to dispose of her. I don't have any particular desire to be caught with the half-chilled or chilled by any of your brother's lackeys. Even you would find that hard to explain to him. Besides, I have plans for her."
There was something in the tone of his voice that made Mildred want to shiver, something she was barely able to suppress. At least they didn't plan to chill her then and there when they inevitably discovered that she was still alive. It would buy her a little more time, and that was all she had.
She felt a foot prod at her, tentatively, and with some disgust that managed to communicate itself even into that gesture. She stayed limp and allowed the sharp toe of the booted foot to jab her several more times in the ribs without giving way to the desire to gasp at the pain.
"Still breathing—I can see that—but not responding. She's either unconscious or playing. If the latter, then I'll just emphasize to you that you keep that blaster trained on her and blow her fucking head off at zero range regardless if she so much as makes a move," Elias commented.
She stayed still and silent, allowing the giant to turn her over. He was as strong as he looked, for she felt the lightness of his touch as he flipped her over with ease. She felt blood from the crease along her forehead run back into her plaits and was thankful it didn't ran down to her eyes. That would make the next part of her act easier.
"No surprise that she is unconscious," Chan muttered, "not with a graze such as that."
"Pity it wasn't a straighter shot and took the bitch out with a blast through the brain," Elias returned with venom. "Now, my sweet little child, let's just see how far from conscious you really are."
As he spoke she felt the hard pad of his thumb on her eyelid. She rolled her eyeball back into her head, which took considerable effort to keep it there as he held her eye open for some time. She wasn't sure how long she could keep it rolled back.
"Yes, I would say that she is well and truly unconscious," Elias pronounced with some satisfaction. "Now we should get her out of here. It's far too public for my taste. There will be some blood on the ground. When I lift her, scuff the earth to cover it."
"I am not as stupe as you seem to believe," Chan returned petulantly. "I had already considered this point."
Mildred felt herself be lifted up by the giant Elias as though she were nothing more than feather, and was flung unceremoniously over his shoulder. He strode off, each step bumping her stomach on his hard shoulderblade. She could hear the scuffling of Chan's feet as he covered the bloody signs of her shooting, and then the patter of the lighter man as he ran to catch up with Elias.
Elias was dangerous because of his size and strength. Chan was a lightweight in every way. She had already sized him up as neurotic. But they were two, and she was alone. More than that, she was quite possibly concussed from the bullet crease and may find it hard to act quickly when called upon. And, finally, they were both armed, and she wasn't. The only advantage she had was surprise, as they believed her to be unconscious. Somehow, she figured that it wouldn't be enough.
They walked for some distance, the two men bickered all the while. The longer they walked, the more she would learn. But to what end?
"I don't like this. We should have finished the job there and then," Chan said.
"And let her be found? There would be an investigation and sooner or later it would be discovered that we have nothing in the way of an alibi. Where would we be then? Would you be able to talk your way out of that with your brother?"
"But the longer we are in possession of the accursed woman, the greater the chances of being caught," Chan argued.
"Not this way," Elias said with confidence. "I have watched carefully the patterns of the security patrols, and I know for a fact that there is no work going on out here. The wood for the boats has long since been felled. All we have to do is keep things relatively quiet. Not difficult with these silenced blasters," he added. "I thought it rather a master stroke to use the one-eyed man's blaster. If anyone checks the armory, they'll find it has been recently fired."
"Would anyone?"
Mildred felt the giant shrug beneath her. "I doubt it, but it would supply a neat and rather confusing finishing touch."
"You have approached this entirely with an unbecoming sense of humor," Chan snapped.
"Oh, come now," Elias replied calmly, "is not the whole thing quite absurd in many aspects? Who would consider the prospect of either of us deigning to work together? You are well known for your bigoted and inflexible views, whereas I am known for my forward looking attitude."
"I—You are the most—"
"And your complete lack of a sense of humor. I really should have added that," Elias cut across the albino's protest, almost musing to himself. "However, I will grant that you showed a commendable streak of ingenuity when you came to see me."
"Pragmatism. I could not do it by myself, and I could see that you have your own reasons to be self motivated."
"Ah, yes, greed. A fine thing. After all, if you don't look out for number one, no one else will."
Mildred felt herself being lifted off his shoulder. Knowing he would drop her with little regard for pain, she allowed herself to relax and to not anticipate her landing. It was hard and painful. She hit the ground on her back, her head bouncing on the ground. She figured they had to be near the river, for the ground was softer here and there was the sound of running water nearby. Had they carried her down to where the treasure was hidden? How the hell had they found out about it? From their conversation, she had assumed that they were aware of both its existence and its whereabouts. She was about to find out how, as they continued their conversation, as if oblivious to the fact of her even being there.
"It is not a noble sentiment, but I can only concur with your somewhat crude way of phrasing it. I had read the legends of the old treasures of the whitelands in the archives of our people, but I had thought the secret lost forever until I heard Barras tell this bitch about it. To know that he had kept the secret for long enough was bad, but to know that he was imparting it to an outsider and for pale ones was intolerable. It belongs to the Pilatans."
"And of course you'll be giving your half to them," Elias said with heavy sarcasm.
"You know perfectly well that I will not," Chan returned with an unexpected fire. "They do not understand what it is to be black. You do not. You think that it is acceptable to mix with outsiders. You think that it is so terrible to want to keep ourselves pure? And yet those fools and morons treat me as different because I am an albino. They treat me with contempt…worse, with pity. Because I have no skin pigment, they do not think of me as being black. You sought power for your views by marrying the baron's daughter, and so did I— although a high yellow beauty like her would not condescend to the likes of me, still I had my brother. He, at least, they all see as a black."
"Uh, excuse me, but strictly speaking, if you have no pigment, then you aren't actually black, are you?" Elias said mildly.
"Of course I am!" exclaimed the albino. "Being black is not about the skin pigment!"
"Then why do you object so strongly to whitelanders?"
Mildred listened to the silence. Elias's mocking tone elicited no verbal response from the albino but heavy breathing as he fought to contain his temper. If she was lucky, they might actually kill each other at this rate, and save her the worry of having to escape. Yeah, as though she should be that lucky. Desperately she sought some way of gaining an advantage over them once she had used the surprise card.
Their argument continued.
"You will use your half of the money to squander," the albino said, sneering, "whereas I intend to set up a community where those such as myself can live in peace, apart from whitelanders and cartoon blacks such as yourself."
"Interesting definition of squander, I would say," Elias commented wryly. "But I really feel that we're wasting time now."
"Something I have been saying to you for
some time," the albino snapped.
"So I've suddenly grown weary of your tattle," Elias commented. "I feel it's time to complete step one. Once she's chilled, we'll get the treasure out and leave her corpse there. By the time anyone figures out that she's a little more than just missing, we'll be well away from this accursed island."
There was a pause.
"So who'll do it?" Chan said nervously.
Elias sighed. "Oh, really, do I have to do everything for you?"
The taunt worked. "No, damn you. I'll see to it," the albino snapped.
On her back, eyes still closed, Mildred heard him move near. She thanked her luck that it was the lighter and less competent of the duo that was approaching. He would be easier to take by surprise and to overpower. She could get his blaster and perhaps use him to shield herself to make a difficult shot for Elias. It was a slim chance, but the only one she had.
As the albino leaned over her and she felt the muzzle of the blaster rest against her forehead, she opened her eyes suddenly, ignoring the searing pain of the daylight—even shielded as it was by the albino's body— and looked Chan straight in the eyes.
He gasped and started back, the blaster pointing away from her. Before Elias had a chance to ask him what was wrong, or for him to answer, Chan found himself kicked sideways as Mildred swung her leg up with as much force as she could muster. There was little momentum she could give it, and she was still weak from her head wound, but the kick was strong enough to catch him in the ribs and to catapult him sideways. She rolled after him, feeling the breeze of the first shot from Elias as it threw up splatters of damp earth where her thigh had been moments before.
"Don't fire, for the Lord's sake, don't fire," Chan yelled, his voice pitched high with fear.
"Then get out of the damned way," Elias snorted as he tried to take a clear aim.
With one hand, Mildred grabbed the blaster that had fallen from Chan's hand when he'd been pitched sideways as she grabbed the albino around the throat with the other. It was a difficult maneuver, and the albino was slippery, but at least she had the blaster.
Axler, James - Deathlands 66 - Separation Page 17