Doc coughed, partly as a prelude to speaking, but partly because the pox was taking a stronger hold of his system. “Allow me, perhaps, to explain and expound upon our friend Jak’s point. Observe, if you will, that we have been guided into the vast chamber where they keep their mat-trans units. We all, do we not, either have the disease or are carriers of such. Now, if you were in the position of the Illuminated Ones, what would you choose to do? Chill us all? Take issue and battle with us? Or would you, if you had the opportunity, not disseminate us all to the farthest corners of the land, thus achieving the rare treasure of chilling two birds with but the one stone? After all, they would not only have disposed of us, they would also have spread their foul calumny.”
“Is that what you meant, Jak?” Dean asked with a wry grin.
The albino shrugged. “Bigger words, but yeah.”
“Point is, it’s vital to get the hell out of this chamber as soon as possible.” Mildred shivered. “The more time we waste here, the closer some of us get to buying the farm. And I hate to sound self-important, but if I go, then will I have time to tell the rest of you what you need to look for?”
“Don’t worry, Millie,” J.B. said softly, laying a hand on her arm, “it’s not going to come to that. They’ve got other plans for us, I figure.” There was a light in the Armorer’s eyes as he spoke that told of a deeper feeling, one that he wouldn’t express so publicly, but which Mildred could acknowledge.
“Let’s hope so, John,” she replied simply.
The barrage of fire on the ob port was beginning to lessen as the warriors realized that it was doing little in the way of any practical good. There were still those who were pouring fire and anger on the only visible symbol of their enemy, but most had acknowledged that there had to be an alternative.
Gloria and Tammy fought their way through the throng toward the companions.
“Ryan,” the Gate queen said, “that was triple stupe of me. I’ve just led us right into the shit, here.”
“It’s not your fault,” the one-eyed man assured her. “They set it up so that we had to follow, in order to wipe out the threat of the sec force.”
Gloria looked at Ryan askance. She knew that he was only partly speaking the truth. She had, she knew, acted rashly, but dwelling on that would do no good, and Ryan was trying to tell her to move on from it. The important thing now was what they would do next.
“Listen,” Tammy said rapidly, “we need to get these stupidworks to stop firing. They’ll waste valuable ammo that we may need when we figure out how to get out of here.”
“If we get a chance,” Gloria added.
“Will,” Jak said firmly. “They need us in mat-trans. We not going by choice. So they need sec to push, right?”
“Yeah, I’d figure that,” Ryan agreed.
“And if they need to send sec in, then they need an opening to come in through, right?” Krysty smiled with understanding.
Ryan agreed. “We just need to wait and see. Have some patience but don’t let our heads drop.”
“Can’t afford too much patience,” Mildred muttered, shaking her head slowly. “Have to hope they don’t have much, either.”
J.B. looked at Mildred, concerned, then focused his attention elsewhere. “Let’s get this firing stopped,” he said brusquely.
The Armorer left them, moving among the masses with Tammy, trying to persuade the warriors to cease firing. Indicating that she should take one side of the area, while he took the other, they fanned out, weaving among the war party and stopping to speak with those who were still taking potshots at the armaglass ob port, imploring them to save ammunition for a possible escape maneuver. While Tammy was seriously concerned about running short of ammo, the Armorer’s trained ear could tell that there weren’t enough shots to warrant any real concern about stocks running down. As for the laser blasters, they were an unknown quantity, and they could run out of power at any moment, so couldn’t be regarded seriously as part of the stockpile. The Armorer’s reason for wanting to move away from the companions was rooted much closer to home. He could see how ill Mildred had become, and her comments on not making it through alive had alarmed him. John Barrymore Dix was by nature a taciturn man, not given to showing his emotions. But his relationship with the ailing woman was deeper than the other companions might have realized, and the prospect of having to watch her slowly expire before his eyes was one that inspired feelings he did not wish to share with his friends and compatriots. So he busied himself with this task until he could get a better grip on his feelings.