Ryan was puzzled, not believing that it was going to be that easy. Give Krysty three days or so, and they could head back to the redoubt and make a fresh jump. By then Doc should also be well.
“So, it’s over.”
“No.” The single syllable hung in the dusty air of the cabin.
“No?”
Wolfe shook his head. “I’m deeply regretting this, old friend, but it isn’t quite over yet.”
The smile was as sunny and broad as the Grand Canyon in August. The eyes and the voice were like a cascade of Sierra meltwater in April.
Doc suddenly sat up, his pale eyes blinking open, and he stared directly at Joshua Wolfe. “Just send my mail to the Tijuana jail,” he said firmly, then pushed the mug of water aside and lay down again.
“Not good.” Mildred laid a cool hand on the old man’s fevered forehead, wincing at the fiery heat. “No, not good at all. Wish the temperature would go down. Set him on the road to recovery. Still, with rest…”
Ryan was still staring at the leader of the ville. “What do you mean?”
Wolfe shook his head gently. “Not who wins the first lap, friend. It’s who’s first past the tape at the end of the race. You all did real well in the testing.”
“But?”
“But you haven’t all taken the trials. Still one of you left.” He pointed at the recumbent figure of Doc Tanner.
“What?” Ryan’s temper was always on a short fuse. Always had been, always would be. The suggestion that the critically ill old-timer should somehow have to prove himself to the sick-brain bastards of Hopeville was so obscene that an instant red mist descended. “You don’t—”
Wolfe had the pearlized grip of the blaster firmly in his hand, the gaping barrel drilling into Ryan’s abdomen. “One wrong step, One-Eye. That’s all I want.”
Jak had taken a half step toward Wolfe, his fingers groping for one of the concealed knives, and he barely halted the movement. “Test Doc?”
“Right. Test Doc. Couldn’t have put it any more succinctly myself.”
“He’s real sick,” Dean said shrilly.
Wolfe nodded gently. “That’s absolutely correct, young man.”
Mildred looked for a moment as if she was about to throw the drink in the man’s face. “You really are something damned special, mister.”
“Why, thank you,” Wolfe replied, dropping a low bow.
Ryan could have taken him at that moment, but they would still have been absurdly outnumbered by armed men, all within calling distance. He held himself in check, waiting to see how the cards fell.
“I’m not a hard man,” Wolfe protested. “Nor do I wish to be unfair. Blessed Jesus of the cap and ball wouldn’t want that to happen.”
Ryan managed to control the crimson rage that had brimmed dangerously close to the surface. “Just what are you saying, Wolfe?”
“If he’s unwell, we can postpone the testing.”
“For how long?” Mildred asked. “Long as it takes for him to recover?”
Wolfe gave out his genuine, friendly laugh, which crinkled the lines around eyes and mouth. “Oh, dear me, no. I’m afraid that’s not on at all, lady.” He slipped the blaster back into its holster. “Lady, we don’t have the time.”
“Then…?”
“Doc can have all of the rest of today to recover, and all of the coming night, as well. He needn’t face his testing until… Let me see. Until eleven tomorrow morning. No, why pinch the penny? Until noon.”
“Noon!” Mildred roared. “Poor old guy’ll probably still be unconscious by then. Give him a week and then he might, just might, be able to make a showing.”
“Tomorrow. Noon. Best you don’t leave the hut. Food’ll be brought to you.”
He turned about and marched quickly out of the cabin, leaving a pool of shocked silence behind him.
THE SHADOWS HAD lengthened around the ville, as the great golden bowl of the sun slipped slowly out of sight, behind the final range of hills that separated the place from the endless stretch of the Cific.
They’d been fed from a black iron caldron of vegetable soup, thick with carrots and parsnips, served with fresh-baked bread and some tender roasted sweet potatoes. There was home-brewed beer on offer, but Ryan gestured for them all to reject it. Now they were left alone again. A bowl of the soup stood cooling on the small table under the window, waiting to see if Krysty could be roused enough to try to sample it.