James Axler – Stoneface

She got up, allowing Ryan to take over the periscope again. He adjusted the magnification and direction so he could focus on the beetle. The little device flew in a straight line for Hellstrom’s position. Ryan estimated its speed at around five miles per hour. In a little over a minute the beetle came to an abrupt halt, hovering twenty feet away from the bluff and twelve above.

Ryan looked away from the periscope and out the windshield. A light glowed on the gadget’s metal shell and an amplified voice crackled from it.

“What do you want?”

Hellstrom’s answer was smooth, relaxed and apologetic. “The harvest is requiring more time than I estimated. It’ll be a few more days before we can make the delivery. I regret the deviance from the timetable.”

“Is that all?”

“We spotted a war party of Indians on our way here. Have they molested you?”

“Isn’t it your responsibility to ensure that they don’t? We’ve supplied you with the means to place yourself in a superior posture to them. And much more besides.”

Hellstrom bowed his head formally. “For which we are eternally grateful.”

“Then live up to your end of our trade agreement. Is there anything else?”

“No,” Hellstrom replied unctuously. “I trust I’ve not disturbed you.”

“This communication is ended.”

Soundlessly the beetle slid backward through the air, as though it were unwilling to turn its photoreceptor away from Hellstrom. After a hundred yards, it rotated quickly, ascended, and sped back toward Mount Rushmore.

Hellstrom, Fleur and the sec men returned to the wag. Ryan went back to the passenger compartment. Hellstrom was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty impressive, huh, kids?”

“Very,” Doc said.

Hellstrom shifted in his chair so he could look at Ryan. “What did you think, Cawdor?”

Ryan smiled wryly. “I think I’ve never seen a finer demonstration of the art of ass-kissing in my life.”

Fleur spun toward him, lips pulling away from her clenched teeth. “Watch it, Cawdor.”

Hellstrom scowled, then forced the smile to return to his face. “You’re right, Cawdor. But if you knew the power behind that beetle, you’d want to weld your mouth to its ass, too.”

“Then why don’t you tell us about it instead of making vague references?” Krysty asked impatiently.

“In a little while.” Hellstrom barked an order at the driver, who started up the AMAC and steered it back in the direction from which it had come.

Ryan consulted his wrist chron. “We’ll never make it back to Helskel before nightfall.”

“I know,” Hellstrom replied. “There is salubrious ground for a campsite a few miles away. Once there, we can relax and talk.”

“What wrong with here?” Jak demanded.

“I want to put some distance between us and the nose. I’m not sure of the range of the beetles, and I don’t want them getting a premature peek at the six of you.”

“Why not?” J.B. wanted to know.

“Patience, Dix. All things come to those who wait.”

The wag rumbled back through the arroyo, and when they reached the small grove of cottonwood trees near the creek, Hellstrom ordered the driver to halt. Everyone disembarked and pitched camp.

Small tents, made of a lightweight fabric, were set up easily and quickly. There wasn’t much deadwood for a fire, but there was no need for it. One of the men carried a metal cylinder from the wag, which was three feet long by three wide. At the touch of a lever on the side of the cylinder, chrome legs slid out from beneath it, and metal rings at the end of foot-high stalks projected from the top. Hellstrom explained that the cylinder burned a gas that furnished a smokeless fire for cooking and heating.

The sec men established a defense perimeter, assembling four tripod-mounted spotlights and alarm wires around the campsite. One of the M-249 machine guns was mounted at the rear end of the AMAC. Guards were stationed every twenty feet outside of the perimeter. By the time the sun began its slow descent, the area was bathed in a bright white light.

Neither Ryan nor his friends felt particularly safe. As Jak pointed out, Hellstrom seemed to be extending an invitation for the Sioux to come in and lift their hair.