“Which is?” Ryan asked.
The Armorer shook his head. “Not much. But the Gate have enough of an armory as it is, and we’ll be okay. Plus there are some more laser blasters from the chilled Illuminated Ones.”
“Speaking of which,” Mildred interjected, “what are we gonna do about those?” She indicated the uniforms Ryan was carrying.
“That’s a good question,” the one-eyed man said softly. “I figure we can only divide these up according to who they fit. They won’t notice anything at first, as long as the uniforms fit.”
“What about the helmets?” Krysty asked.
“The Gate will bring those. They’re not so important, and I’d guess they’re all one size but adjustable, if they’re anything like the ones we’ve come across before.”
“Okay,” the red-haired woman agreed. “I guess we’d better get these fitted up if possible, then.”
She took the uniforms from Ryan and began to hold them up, one by one. They were marked by the burns of the laser blasters that had chilled their original occupants, but the biggest problem was their size. Some of them were large enough for Ryan or Krysty to fit into, but a couple of them were too small for Dean or Doc.
“Shit—I really didn’t want to leave any one of us out of the wag,” Ryan said. “Any of the Gate may be able to cope with the wag and keeping up the deception until we can get those sec doors open, but…”
“But you would rather have people around you that you can trust totally, and who you know will cover your back?” Doc queried.
“Guess that’s it,” Ryan agreed. “After the things we’ve been through, I can second guess what any of you will do in a situation and back you up. And every single one of you could do that for me. For any one of us.”
“Well, it just ain’t gonna work that way this time, however we might like it,” Mildred mused, “and just maybe that’s for the best.”
“How d’you mean?” Dean asked.
Mildred leveled a gaze at all of them, moving from one to the other as she spoke in an equally level tone. “The fact of the matter is, Doc, Jak and myself are buying the farm. Even as I speak, we’re creeping nearer. That’s just the way it is, and right now we can’t do anything about it. The disease seems to be affecting us to a lesser degree than I’ve seen it in any of the Crossroads people who’ve been infected, and I can only guess at why this may be. Whatever, it seemed to have delayed and slowed the progress of the infection, but it certainly hasn’t chilled it.
“I’ll be honest with you guys—I feel like shit, and I’m acting like it. Everything is slower, more difficult. I’d guess it’s probably like that for Jak and Doc, too. But that makes it dangerous to trust us totally in a firefight situation, because we’re not the same people right now. Maybe if you have to have Gate warriors, you won’t trust so much on instinct, and that may be better.”
There was a pause while Ryan considered this. Finally, he said, “Yeah, mebbe you’re right about that. It’s not something any of us want to face, I guess, but if we’re gonna stay alive and smash those bastards, then we’ve got to think about it.”
“Okay,” Krysty murmured, seeing the concern on her lover’s face. “Mebbe the best thing to do is wait till we’ve run through the plan, then pick who comes with some of us.”
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed reluctantly, “that seems the easiest way. Meantime I guess we’d all better get acquainted with the wag’s comps, seeing as any of us may or may not be in the wag now.”
It seemed like a good idea, and there was time while the Gate finished their ceremony. That they neared completion was made obvious by the thick smoke that rose from the fire at the far end of the ville, rising into the rapidly darkening night air, filling it with the sickly sweet smell of roasting flesh.
There was room for all the companions to fit inside the wag, and Mildred and Dean quickly ran over the contents of the comp board. Much of it was no longer operational due to the shorting out of the electrical cable beneath the chassis, but some parts were still in operation. The interior lighting and directional controls were intact, operating on the emergency system, but the parts of the comp that were linked to the redoubt were dead, as indeed was the radio that had kept them in contact with the redoubt and with the other wag. Dean and Mildred—who between them had the entire system figured—gave the others a crash course in how to turn off the operational systems, and also how to use them if it became necessary. They also made sure that the nonoperational sections were completely detached from the working parts.