Ryan checked his wrist chron, surprised to find that the battering didn’t seem to have damaged it at all. “Running well late,” he said.
The voice went on. “Pride ourselves on this run that we keep time. Means that we won’t hit Crosstown on schedule unless we take in a tuck here and there. Easiest is to pick up at St. Louis. Sorry to disappoint those passengers looking forward to a whoop and a holler in the ville, but we’ll be stopping only for about three hours to stock up on water and provisions and carry out some of the main repairs. Then we’ll move on. Problem is that a storm like that one will have changed the course of the Sippi. New sandbanks and bars and shallows. Have to go slower the rest of the way.”
“I was looking forward to some time on shore,” Mildred said. “Visited old St. Louis in the days when I was doing competitive pistol shooting.”
Ryan smiled. “Find it changed. Got badly nuked. Old city more or less vanished, and the site of the settlement shifted by miles. Just a black, rad-hot hole in the ground where it was. The big river moved, as well. New St. Louis is a neat little ville. Not unlike Twin Forks.”
“Really!” She shook her head. “Still, seems a shame that we won’t have much time there.”
The intercom coughed and barked again. “We’re real sorry about this. Every passenger can enjoy a complimentary drink of either wine or beer with their meal this evening. The storm means that we’ll hit Cairo much later than we wanted. Probably during the dark hours. We suggest that passengers stay aboard. Some mean folks move during the blackness in Cairo. Place where the vicious animals come out at night. Then, soon as we get past St. Louis, everything’s back to normal. Any questions, all of you feel free to approach any of my officers. And if they can’t help you, then I’ll be glad to do my best for you.”
AT THE EVENING MEAL Ryan noticed that there were again two seats empty at Captain Huston’s table, Wolfram and the Magus choosing to stay hidden in their own set of rooms.
The matre d’ offered Ryan and Krysty the seats, but they chose to stay with the others and dine at a smaller table set off on the port side of the saloon, not far from the main-entrance doors. The food was less exotic, with a smaller range of dishes, and less well cooked.
But it was still better than adequate.
Ryan had examined their cabins, finding that there were interconnecting doors concealed behind Oriental hanging drapes. For extra security he unlocked them, giving them all free access to one another’s cabins and to a better escape in the event of any sudden attack.
But his gut feeling was that the twin enemies weren’t planning anything like that.
The whole thing seemed in their hands, and Ryan was uneasily conscious of time passing, as though he and the others were already just puppets of Wolfram and the Magus. But however hard he tried, Ryan couldn’t perceive any direct threat.
There was still time to ask Huston to pull alongside the rain-drenched shore, and they could all be off safely in a couple of minutes. But Ryan suspected that the evil brains of the pair would already have seen that possibility and laid specific plans to counter it.
It seemed that all they could do was sit and wait and keep alert.
THE NIGHT PASSED BY without any incident.
Ryan had woken from a bizarre dream involving an elderly woman attempting to deliver a flock of geese to a house where he was in hiding. He lay still, on his back, eye probing the darkness. The boat was still moving slowly, its ponderous engines turning the powerful wheel at the stern, thrusting it upstream against the swollen waters of the Sippi.
Once the threat had been established from the Magus and Wolfram, he had suggested to the others that it would be a good idea not to sleep nude. Not that Doc ever did. Best to keep mainly clothed, with just the boots kicked off. Blasters needed to be very much to hand.