Страница 32 из 90
"So you hid her here and walked in," Brodski noted. "How come?"
"Didn't want to be noticed by Jomo's men. There's reason to think they'd grab the Bitch if they could." Makhno pulled the concealing tarp off the zodiac and began testing her engines.
"Not to mention what they'd make of these," said Brodski, holding out the sack Makhno had set down. "You must have half the portable CB radios on Haven in there."
Makhno grabbed the sack and stuffed it aboard the Bitch. "Yeah. Better we should have 'em than Jomo."
"Hmm, any idea why those bozos jumped us?" Brodski asked. "And were they really Jomo's boys, or possibly independents?"
"Jomo's goons," snapped Makhno, not looking up. "Maybe after the Bitch, maybe wanting the women. Saw us, jumped at the chance and started shooting."
"Why the women? Why your raft?" Van Damm pushed.
"The Black Bitch is the fastest boat on the planet, and the women . . ." Makhno paused. "Jomo's pulling all the whores in Docktown under his rule. These two used to be independents, who didn't like Jomo's working conditions. As for the girls . . . they're Old Harp's daughters. Do I need to tell you anything more?"
"Er, no. Not a thing."
The girls handed in three sheath-knives, a revolver and ammunition from the other man that Brodski had shot. "They didn't have any money on them, Captain Makhno," Mary duly reported. "Just these things."
"That's all right, Mary. Now, everybody, get those women aboard and help push off."
They slid into the river at dead slow, without the superchargers engaged. When they made the lake proper, Makhno opened the throttles, pointed the nose of the Bitch south and relaxed to the rising whine of the superchargers. They'd reach Janesfort at just about Eye rise.
Nobody followed them.
"You are quite sure," Jomo asked coldly, "that the women are nowhere to be found in the city?"
"I assure you, mi Commandante, my men searched the city most thoroughly." DeCastro started to reach for a cigar, then thought better of it. The supply was ru
"We even managed to search some of the buildings in Castell City proper, under pretext of looking for two women who were contagiously ill."
Jomo raised one eyebrow slightly in appreciation of that trick. It was almost impossible to get any cooperation out of the Harmonies.
"Therefore I must regretfully conclude, that the delectable Ahnli and Zilla have fled the city." DeCastro's regret was genuine, and not just for the loss of income. He had sampled Ahnli's charms last shift, and wanted more of her.
"Then where could they have gone?" Jomo glowered. "There have been no boats in dock for the past three turns, no carts or wagons for the past cycle, and I do not see those two slits going far on foot."
DeCastro shrugged elaborately. "They must have fled with the assistance of those admirers who proved so effective against our search party. The survivor of that encounter was not able to recognize the men in the poor light. They could have come from anywhere, in a concealed boat or wagon, and taken the women back with them: to an outlying farm, or to some collection of the miners and prospectors to the west, or-who knows?-perhaps to the legendary Island of Women. In any case, they have gone out of our reach."
Jomo's frown deepened. "We must discourage further such defections . . . and it is time we extended our reach beyond Docktown. We must have land and river transport, DeCastro."
"Of course." DeCastro interlaced his fingers in thought. "When the Last Resort returns with her latest catch, we can . . . persuade the owners to put the ship at our disposal. As for wagons, I ca
"Better to use the ship to take us to farms along the river," said Jomo. "Indeed, we will have to visit those farms eventually. Best to start pla
"Si, mi Commandante," DeCastro sighed, wondering how to persuade Jomo not to send him out on any such expeditions. DeCastro hated the wilderness, had spent all his life in cities, wished to be nowhere on the planet but nice, comfortable Docktown, getting rich off the spacer trade.
The trip upriver was long, wet, dark, and cold. Makhno took the opportunity to explain some of the facts of life at Janesfort, but the reception was mixed.
". . . Now we're into Central Forest proper. Behind the screen of woods, you'll find lots of farms-squatters, all of 'em, but what Castell doesn't know about doesn't hurt anybody else. The squatters along here are all friends of Jane. They're willing to help, but the real fortress is at the island . . . ."
The girls and women nodded acceptance, then huddled together in mute, miserable endurance.
The two men weren't nearly as patient. Brodski settled into griping and swearing; Van Damm joined him and looked sour.
That they'd be working for women, or that the trip was uncomfortable, was no damned excuse. Makhno grew steadily more irritated with both of them.
When they reached the north cliff-face of Jane's Island, Makhno took his own sweet time pulling up to the anchorage spot under the ledge-hidden hoist. Sure enough, while Brodski reached, cursing, for the camouflaged bell-rope, Van Damm spotted the rising pipe to the water pump.
"Weakness, that," he said, pointing. "Invaders could climb it."
"Not likely," Makhno teased, hiding his grin. "Too wet, too dangerous."
"Good troops could climb it," Van Damm insisted, taking the bait.
"Hell, I'd like to see you try," Makhno nudged.
"Fifty creds says I can."
"You're on."
Van Damm actually smiled, made a smooth leap out of the raft and caught the pipe. Makhno had to admit the guy was good, didn't even slip on the damp lower stretch of pipe, shi
"You just lost fifty creds fast," growled Brodski, jerking on the bell-rope.
"Not yet I haven't," Makhno chuckled, his reply muffled by the bell. He watched as braid-wrapped heads peered down from the ledge, gri
Van Damm was better than ten meters up when he came abruptly nose-to-nose with a shotgun in the hands of Tall Lou. He yelled like a banshee, sprang away from the pipe, and went straight back down into the water, narrowly missing the raft.
Makhno managed not to laugh as he hauled the man back aboard, but he couldn't help gri
"A woman with a shotgun," came Van Damm's reply. "I couldn't even see her until she poked it up my nose . . . . She was hidden by an overhang and a berm, dammit!"
"Yeah. They keep watch on all the approaches." Makhno snickered. "You should've gone up the hoist, like a proper guest."
About then the sling-hoist came creaking down to the raft. Van Damm shamelessly grabbed at it first, ducked into it and signaled to be hauled up. The windlass obligingly lifted him away.
"As I told you," said Makhno. "Jane's no fool."
"I'm begi
The crew of the Last Resort never knew what hit them. One minute they were unloading a good catch of fish at Castell City dock, and then there came a crackling sound, and then they were waking up on the dock with ringing heads, bound hands, and a bunch of mean-looking Dock-town goons gri
Deckhand Joey Brown looked toward Captain Feinberg, and got a bleak look in return. He wondered what these goons wanted to rob them of; all they possessed at the moment were their clothes, dry suits, tools, and a load of fish.