“And now it’s one of our bases,” Clifford added. Ryan heard a small pause there and guessed it was actually their only base of operations. Lie whenever possible. It was the first rule of negotiating.
“And the sec men can’t find you?” Dean asked in disbelief.
“The excavations for the mines are miles deep into the mountain beneath us,” Clifford said smugly. “With hundreds of side shafts and deadheads.”
“Resembles a tree root,” Tray spoke knowingly.
“Sludger?” Jak asked.
“Timber boss.”
“Good job, ‘cept dust.”
“You got that hot, chum.”
One big and black, the other slim and pale, the two men nodded at each other in a friendly manner and Mildred could feel the tension ease in the cave. Because he was reticent to the point of absurdity.
She often forgot how intelligent Jak was. He had done this deliberately to smooth the way for Ryan.
“Besides,” Lisa said, “how could the heirs find something that doesn’t exist?”
Ryan almost smiled. “Official denial. The slaves can have no hope, if they don’t even know there is an underground.”
“Even saying the word escape is punishable by death,” Krysty added.
“Exactly.”
“Give me the bottom line,” Ryan growled, laying the Steyr on the table between them. Talk nice, but look menacing. It was the second rule of cutting a deal. Another valuable lesson from the Trader.
“You want to leave,” Lisa said, ignoring the presence of the Iongblaster. “We want to be free. Help us, and we help you.”
“We’re armed again,” J.B. said bluntly, tapping his Uzi. “What’s to stop us from leaving this pit?”
Troy snorted in sour amusement “Nobody can leave Novaville. Once past the walls, there’s only one way out of the compound, and the heirs have been lining it with traps for lifetimes as protection against the Beast, should it decide to come here.”
“That’s why the coldhearts set an ambush for travelers on the road,” Ryan said, comprehension flaring. “You’re too well protected. I had wondered about that”
“Many times the Sons have tried raids,” David said succinctly. “And they always fail.”
“You’ll never reach the flatlands alive without the machine,” Lisa stated forcibly. “That is a fact. Solid as the stone around us. And we have it. Not the heirs, or the sec men, but us.”
“You do? Where?” Doc asked innocently. Sometimes, even the wise let slip important things if you asked casually enough.
She stared at him. “I’m small, but not a child.”
“My apologies, madam.”
Ryan waved the trifle aside. “We kill the heirs and the ward, and you give us back Leviathan, is that it?” he asked her.
“Just the heirs. They control the sleep gas.”
“Should be easy enough to avoid the canisters,” Krysty said, her hair tensing in unease.
“They can release it anywhere, at will,” Clifford said bitterly. “From the walls, the floors.. .and nothing stops it. Predark gas masks, wet cloth, spices, drugs, nothing.”
“It’s the only real hold they have on us,” David stated, hunching his shoulders. “Men with blasters we can fight with pavement stones, drown them in our blood if necessary.”
“But any act of rebellion, even to disobey a direct command from the heirs, and you awake in the tower.” Kathy hugged herself and shivered. “At dawn, whatever remains is nailed to a cross in the courtyard for all to see.”
“Then how did you get us away from them?”
J.B. asked.
Lisa reached in a pocket and withdrew a small glass vial partially filled with a swirling milky fluid. “The heirs drink this and walk through the gas unaffected. My father stole some, and we have been saving it for the proper time. For the right people. You.”
“We aren’t mercies,” Krysty said. “We fight only when we have to.”
“As do we all.”
“Or when the odds are right,” J.B. countered. “And six against hundreds is a poor gamble.”
“Dozens against hundreds,” David corrected. “We can fight. Will fight. Have fought.” He patted his empty holster. “We have blasters, put together from the pieces of broken weapons gathered over the years. We have ammo, knives, explosives! But we need people trained in combat to direct our army.
“An army of whipped slaves, not warriors.”