He took another bite from a duck leg, chewing slowly to give himself a little time, finishing it and taking a sip of water.
“Right,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What was it called?”
J.B. pushed back the fedora and scratched his forehead. “Damned if I can remember, Millie.”
“But you are still completely confident about the exact quantities that constitute the thermite mixture, are you not, John Barrymore?”
“Sure I am, Doc,” J.B. said, adding after a significant pause, “Least, I’m nearly completely confident.”
“We running risk being blown up?” Jak asked, looking around to make sure that an escape route was open toward the safety of the forest.
The Armorer acted as if he hadn’t heard the question. “I remember the book was real excellent and it was by some predark writer called Abbey.”
“Science book?” Krysty asked.
“No. Kind of history about some good folks trying to stop the big companies from destroying the land. I found it in a ruined mall in the Shens. No cover on it. Couldn’t decide if it was fact or fiction.”
“Which is which?” Dean asked.
“Fact means it’s true and fiction means it’s made up,” Mildred replied.
J.B. straightened, dusting his hands, looking down at the small metal cylinder that was half-buried in the damp earth in the clearing on the edge of the village. “There. Two-thirds mixture and one-third igniter.”
“What’s in it?” Ryan asked. “All stuff that you found in the old base?”
Doc beamed. “But of course.” He ticked off the items on his long, bony fingers. “Forty pounds of iron oxide flakes. Like rust. Couple of pounds of powdered magnesium. Ten pounds of barium peroxide. Thirty pounds or so of powdered aluminum.”
“And the mix?” Krysty asked.
“I vow that it could not be any simpler, my dear Krysty. Three parts of the iron with two parts of the aluminum equals thermite. It’s as simple as that.”
“What’s the other stuff for?” Dean was staring, fascinated, at the narrow tube of metal as though he expected it to explode at any moment.
“Igniter,” J.B. replied. “One part magnesium goes with four parts of the barium powder.”
“Five hundred degrees centigrade,” Doc said slowly, his hands folded in front of him as though he were reciting a part of the Athanasian Creed.
A twist of fuse stuck out the top, and J.B. knelt again, holding a pack of self-lights in his hand. “Ready or not,” he said. “Here we go.”
Everyone backed away, keeping about thirty yards between themselves and the small thermite bomb. Beyond them was a hesitant circle of watching natives, led by the tall figure of Itzcoatl, wearing his ceremonial green robe, and most of his senior councilors.
The self-light flared, its tiny red-and-gold flame almost invisible in the strong morning sunlight. A wisp of smoke came curling from the top of the fuse, and J.B. ran, crouching, to join the others.
“How long?” Ryan asked.
“Ten seconds,” the Armorer replied. “Off goes the igniter and then the thermite itself.”
The white serpent of powder smoke grew stronger for a moment, and everyone started to duck, when it went out. Went out and stayed out.
There was an audible hissing sound, then silence.
“That it?” Jak said.
J.B. bit his lip in annoyance. “Yeah, Jak. Looks like that’s it.”
“Know what went wrong, John?” Mildred asked.
“I have a feeling that I’m not sure. Don’t want to make myself look a fool a second time.”
“Back to the drawing board,” Doc added.
Ryan slapped J.B. on the back. “Never mind. Leave it a while now. Plenty for us all to do in the village to get ready to receive our guests.”
THAT HAD BEEN at the center of Ryan’s plan.
“They’ll expect to more or less take us by surprise,” Ryan had said at the breakfast meeting. “Probably won’t know we’re here. Probably won’t worry even if they know we’re here. Just look to come in like always.”
“But they might suspect we could stage an early deterrent strike,” J.B. said.
“One thing they won’t expect is for us to try and trap them here. Actually here in the village, the honey pot they think they’re walking in to raid.” Ryan pointed slowly around the table. “We’ll turn this place into a fortress. Not to keep them out. To let them in and keep them in.” He banged his fist into his palm. “That’s the heart of the plan.”