“Blasters. Cased-cartridge models, mostly. Some grens. Mebbe even some light artillery. Sec men also have knives, clubs, fists, boots. Use all of them to keep people scared. That’s how they keep everyone in line.”
“What about the people who aren’t part of the security force? Do they have projectile weapons?”
“Mostly black-powder guns in the hands of the regular folk. The other kind are worth a lot of jack. And can be trouble to keep. The barons don’t like military blasters outside the hands of their sec men.”
“No nuclear weapons?” the white-haired man asked.
“There could be some left in the redoubts, but I don’t know where they might be or who controls them.”
“How do you think the Deathlands nobility would react if more of our people crossed over?” the Mitsuki man asked. “Would they welcome our help?” Ryan laughed out loud. “You’ve got the wrong idea there. Nothing noble about the barons. Most of them are snakes on two legs. Slavemasters. Double-crossers. Rapists. If you send more of your folks across, I think they’d do their best to rob them naked, then chill them for sport.”
The sound from the screens went dead as the five interviewers conferred among themselves. Ryan watched their lips move and the shifting play of expression on their faces. The golden-eyed Mitsuki man appeared the most animated; the others seemed to be trying to calm him, which took some doing.
To Ryan, the last few questions they’d asked him seemed much more to the point. They required answers that a satellite recon couldn’t supply. He wasn’t surprised that these people would be interested in Deathlands’ defenses, or the lack of same. From what they had seen of his world so far, they had gotten the impression that its inhabitants were hostile, aggressive and generally murderous.
An impression that was right on the money.
When the sound returned, the white-haired man said, “Thank you for talking to us, Ryan. We appreciate your cooperation and truthfulness. And we hope to spend more time with you in the near future.”
With that, the screens winked out.
“You did just fine, for a first go,” Huth said as Ryan got up from the table. “I think the CEOs were pleased. You’ve got to understand that we’re all feeling around in the dark at this early stage. Once we have our satellite database to refer to, we can ask you much more detailed questions.”
“Sounds like you’re planning an invasion,” Ryan said.
Huth smiled. “You have to forgive our curiosity and eagerness about the world you come from. You probably feel the same way about this place.”
“Haven’t seen much of it so far,” Ryan said. “Is it all indoors?”
“No, I assure you it isn’t. We’ll head over to the medical complex now, and get you thoroughly checked out.”
Six minutes later, Ryan was once again staring into the pink-tinted, scowling face of his pal, the kisser sec man. Once again they were traveling at a high rate of speed on an unseen road. Though he tried to keep track of the turns, it was impossible for Ryan to maintain his bearings. The occasional collisions that sent his head slamming into the seat back didn’t help, either. He had no idea what the world outside the wag looked like, and the only way back to Deathlands was lost in a maze of twists and doublebacks.
Nara read the growing concern on his face and misread the cause.
“Don’t worry about the medical tests we’ve scheduled,” she told him. “They aren’t invasive, and there’s no anesthesia. You’ll be awake the whole time. We can do everything we need to do with full body scans. We just want to make sure your health is good.”
“Ever get to see the sun?” Ryan asked her. The kisser glared at him as if he were insane. Nara opened her mouth to answer but before she could get a word out, sirens started to wail. It sounded as if they were reverberating down a long tunnel. And they were so blisteringly loud that Ryan clapped his hands over his ears.
The driver immediately took his foot off the accelerator and feathered the wag’s brakes.