James Axler – Stoneface

His decision was logical, based primarily on Mildred’s knowledge of twentieth-century history, psychology and technology. If the Anthill was indeed a cryonic deep freeze, as Hellstrom had said, then her background would prove invariable. Also, she was a good person to have at your back if the going got tricky.

Krysty had seemed to accept his reasoning, though J.B. wasn’t quite as calm when Ryan told him of his choice.

That evening, after apprising Hellstrom, Mildred and Ryan were allowed into Helskel’s arsenal to pick out weapons. There were hundreds to choose from, all in mint condition. Hellstrom had commented on the irony of using the Anthill’s own traded-in blasters against its inhabitants.

“You bored, Cawdor?”

Ryan opened his eye and gazed at Hellstrom. The man’s face was strained, although he was trying to smile. “Just thinking.”

“About what awaits you after you get up the nose?”

Ryan shook his head. “No. About what I’ll do to you when I come back and find out you’ve mistreated my people.”

Hellstrom’s forced, stitched-on smile faltered. “A little premature, aren’t you? Besides, there’s no need to worry. Unless circumstances warrant otherwise, their status as guests won’t change.”

“That’s good, that’s real good,” Ryan said. “But listen to me, Lars, and believe what I say. Harm any of them, and all hell won’t hide you from me.”

Hellstrom’s shoulders stiffened. He glared at Ryan and opened his mouth to say something. Then he shut it and glanced away, shouting at the man at the periscope for a recce report.

Ryan settled back, repressing a smile. Though Hellstrom held the high cards, he was still unnerved enough by Ryan’s self-confidence to take the threat seriously.

The AMAC retraced the route of five days before, rolling through the valley, past the Sioux battlefield and across the bluffs. There was no sign of the Lakota whatsoever, and Ryan wasn’t sure if he was happy about that.

Once the wag was parked, Hellstrom took the Very pistol and inserted a red flare cartridge into it. Accompanied by a trio of sec men, he left the vehicle and climbed to the top of the ridge. He fired off the flare and waited.

Looking out past the windshield, Ryan watched the mechanical beetle zip from the direction of Lincoln’s nose and hover above and before Hellstrom.

“You have the merchandise.” The amplified, metallic voice wasn’t asking a question, it was making a statement.

“Yes,” Hellstrom replied. “All of the highest quality, too. What do you offer for it?”

The beetle pivoted slowly, its glowing photoreceptor eye turning toward the AMAC. Ryan ducked back out of sight.

“We will make that decision once we examine your goods and ascertain if they meet our present needs.”

“Then we shall remain in the area until you contact me with your offer,” Hellstrom replied. “Is that acceptable?”

“If you withdraw back to the valley, then it is acceptable. Return to this spot forty-eight hours hence. Understood?”

“Understood. Will you now make preparations to receive the merchandise?”

“Yes. You are familiar with the procedure.”

As it had done before, the beetle retreated across empty air, ascended, twirled and skated back toward Mount Rushmore.

Hellstrom entered the AMAC, face glistening with a sheen of perspiration. He mopped his brow with a handkerchief and said to Ryan and Mildred, “Almost time.”

Ryan threw him a mocking half-smile. “Hot out there, is it?”

Hellstrom’s lips compressed in a tight line. “Where you and that Beforetime woman are going, you’ll be praying for some hot.”

The driver started up the AMAC and rolled it over the bluff, heading for the boulder-strewn base of Mount Rushmore. Above it, vast and exuding an ancient sadness, towered the ruin of Lincoln’s head.

As the vehicle rumbled closer, something lowered itself from the huge pit of Lincoln’s right nostril. Like streams of metallic mucus, four steel cables connected to a long, flat platform descended from the nasal passage.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair,” Mildred murmured in a singsong tone.

Ryan didn’t bother asking her what she meant.

When the platform scraped rocky earth, two sec men left the wag and pulled it away from the cliff side, while others busied themselves unloading the crates of crops and homemade goods.