“No. Not at all. They might come here soon. But they will fail. And we shall have our victory. And you might have your liberty.”
Doc laughed. “Liberty. Scum like you would not know the meaning of the word.”
The steel eyes stared incuriously at the old man. “And you would know?”
“Your kind of liberty? Surely. Count Mirabeau said, during the height of the Terror in the French Revolution, that liberty was a whore who fucked on a mattress of corpses. That’s your kind of liberty, Magus.”
“Think so?”
Doc nodded. “I know so. For men like you and Wolfram who live by the knout and the blade and the gun, there is no other kind of freedom.”
“Cheap words, Dr. Tanner.”
“You will not think so when Ryan spits in your open eyes, Magus.”
The half android turned on his heel. “Lock them up,” he snapped to the sec men. “Lock them well.”
Chapter Thirty
“What’s that?”
“Where?”
“Ahead, three o’clock. Just rising up above the tops of the trees.”
J.B. stood on tiptoe, straining to see where Ryan had pointed. “Can’t see anything.”
Ryan grinned at his smaller partner. “You’ll see it in a minute, bro. Climb higher.”
“Oh, yeah. See it now. What is ? Looks like a hot-air balloon.”
Ryan nodded. “It is. On a tethered cable, so it doesn’t fly away. Twenty gets you one that it’s coming from Wolfram’s base. Using it as a floating ob platform. Looking out for us, I guess. Smart idea.”
J.B. touched the butt of the Steyr rifle that dangled from its sling across Ryan’s shoulders. “One round from that should do the job,” he said.
“Might have some kind of walkie-talkie going. Time to send a warning before they go down. Don’t want them to know where we are.”
J.B. shaded his eyes against the bright sun that streamed in from the right side of the track. “What’s glinting off the cover of the balloon?”
Ryan squinted, taking a few steps to bring himself under the shadow of the tall pines, having checked first that there was no sign of any more of the murderous land mines. “Think it’s got some sort of armaproof cover on it. Fine titanium-steel mesh, mebbe. Sort of thing the Magus might’ve come up with.”
“Think you’re right.” The Armorer had joined Ryan in the gloom. “Least they won’t be able to make us out under here. Even with good glasses.”
Ryan sniffed. “Trouble is, they’ll be able to make us out if we move back along any of the trails. Have to stick to heart of the forest, and that’ll really slow us down. Fireblast! All that we needed.”
“Yeah, but we figured to go in some time after dark tonight. Should be able to cover the last few miles without too much difficulty. Can’t be all that far now. Do it comfortably before night falls.”
“Long as the stickies don’t come gibbering out of the trees after us.”
J.B. peeked up at the rising balloon. “Nothing but problems, compadre.”
“Come against swift and evil bastards like the Magus and Gert Wolfram, and you don’t expect them to make it easy for you. Let’s keep moving.”
IT WAS HARDER GOING than the Armorer had guessed. The pines grew more densely together, making the friends push, bend and crawl through the soft carpet of needles. The balloon hung there, ahead of them every time they checked, riding about two hundred feet high on its cable.
They caught the glint of sunlight off binoculars, and were able to make out the dim shapes of at least three sec men in the reinforced basket.
Ryan twice unslung the Steyr and leveled it from the cover of the forest, peering through the laser image enhancer. He was tempted to open up on the spies in the sky and try to take them out, or even hope to bring down the balloon. But he was able to see the fine protective network of wires that covered the dark green fabric, so he held his fire.
IT WAS WELL PAST the middle of the afternoon when J.B. spotted the cable being wound in, taking the balloon back to earth. The occasional roaring of the gas-fired engine beneath it was muted, and finally turned off, indicating that the flying ob platform was done for the day.