When his forward motion stopped, he thought for an instant that he’d missed his target. The second rope had created more drag than he’d thought it would, or maybe he just hadn’t gone as far out as he’d hoped. In the next instant, the bobbing deck was below him.
He landed hard, tucking into a roll and coming up on his feet. A feeling of exhilaration filled him as he turned to face the others. He smiled, then he started pulling the second rope across so they could rig the transfer.
IT TOOK ALMOST AS LONG to get the passengers aboard the boat as it did to rig up the ropes. Ryan glanced at the midmorning sun sourly. They’d lost much of the morning.
He stood back at the pilothouse with Morse, who bawled out orders to his sons. They raced up and down the rigging like monkeys as the other passengers and the companions settled in.
Junie slunk back into the river’s current reluctantly, almost mired in the slow waters near the bank. Then the sails belled out and caught the wind. Her prow sheared through a low sandbar with a long grating sound that left Ryan wondering if she’d torn her bottom away.
Morse laughed as he worked the wheel. “Not to worry. Old Junie, she’s a workhorse, not some nervous filly.”
Ryan tightened his jaw and said nothing. He stood with a wide-legged stance that absorbed the pitch and roll of the boat as she cut to the heart of the river current. “Where’s the nearest place we can do some trading for ammo and gear?”
“That’ll be Annie’s,” Morse replied.
“How far?” Ryan asked.
Morse squinted against the breeze. “In a wind like this, if it stays with us, mebbe half a day. Be there before nightfall no matter what.”
“How’s she fixed for supplies?”
“Annie’s a trader. Come by it natural born. Anything worth having anywhere near her, she’ll have it if she wants it. Or she’ll know where a fella can trade out of it.”
“We’re going to need ammo.”
“She’ll have it. She’ll be willing to trade for blasters, so you can relax your brain about that. With the Slaggers in Idaho Falls getting fatter and bigger, a lot more people are wanting to get their hands on some firepower. If your friend can get those blasters fixed, she’ll be willing to trade with both of us.”
Ryan accepted that. Trading was only one of the options the companions had, and he knew it. With the condition Krysty was in, he wasn’t going to be any more politic than he had to be.
Chapter Nineteen
“Back when I was around the Totality Concept whitecoats, my dear Ryan,” Doc said softly, “they were experimenting with many things that were supposed to enhance a person’s psychic ability. Drugs and electrical experiments. Even operations on the brain itself that involved transplantations from other brains and the insertion of microcomputers.”
“Anything like this?” Ryan asked, looking at the nearby railing where Krysty slept like the dead. Her body rolled slowly with the motion of the boat. Only the slow rise and fall of her breasts let him know she was still alive. Dean sat nearby, keeping watch over her.
Doc shook his head, his long hair tangling in the breeze. “Not that I recollect. I made myself privy to as many of their goings-on as I could, but there was still much that I missed, as you are well aware.”
“We’re still days out from finding the Heimdall Foundation,” Ryan stated. “After the problems she had last night, we need an edge to help her get past this.”
“Doc and I talked last night,” Mildred said. “We came up with a few possible solutions.”
Ryan stood in the prow, feeling the breeze whisper past him and the sun beat down on him. The air was tainted with the smell of salt and minerals burning, coming from the galley below where Morse’s sons had started up the water-purifying system they had on board. The water purification setup was cobbled together out of spare parts and copper tubing they’d scavenged, but Doc had pronounced it serviceable. Being able to filter water from the river made them dependent only on game from the riverbanks while they sailed. The previous night’s haul would carry them for a few days.