Uchitel’s band carried enough provisions for a couple of weeks. There was
generally the chance of shooting some fresh meat. But best of all was finding a
community that would support them for a night or two. Some villages grudgingly
consented. Most had to be persuaded. The last time they’d visited Ozhbarchik,
more than a year back, there had been trouble and a knifing. Uchitel felt that
this time their methods of persuasion might have to be particularly harsh.
At that moment, remembering the words of the little merchant, he rose in his
horned saddle, peering into the snow spume behind them.
There was nothing to be seen.
Nothing, for the time being.
Chapter Three
WITH THE HISS of compressed air, the massive doorway immediately ahead of them
began to rise slowly, clearing the corridor. They remained standing still, hands
on top of their heads.
“Good,” said the disembodied voice from the speaker. “Very good indeed. The
Keeper spares you. A sign of anger, and you would have all been cleansed.”
None of the eight needed it spelled out. “Cleansed” was just another word for
killed or iced or wasted or chilled or blasted or sent to buy the farm.
“You ain’t muties?”
It sounded like a question, so Ryan answered it. “No, we’re not muties.”
“Them women got funny hair. Ain’t natural. Green and red. They muties?”
Ryan thought about Krysty. She didn’t really look like a mutie at all, despite
what he knew of her hidden powers.
“No, none of us is a mutie.”
The crackly voice resumed again. “The Keeper says he wants to know how you got
in here?”
“Long story,” said J. B. Dix.
“Got time. Keeper’s got all the time in the world.”
“Can we put our hands down?” asked Ryan.
“No. Yes. Yes, the Keeper says yes. Nobody never got in this redoubt. Never in a
hundred, never in a thousand, never in a million years. Keeper don’t allow it.
Doors sealed tight as a bat’s ass. No alarms on the outside. Just from the
gateway. That how you got in?”
Ryan glanced sideways at J.B. It was a bad situation. The thin, tinny voice
sounded crazy. That didn’t alter the fact he had them cold. The forces
controlling the redoubt would have access to all kinds of sophisticated
weaponry. They needed only to shut that bulkhead again and pump in the nerve gas
and they’d be dead in seconds. Better to play along.
“Yeah. We come from the Darks. Don’t rightly know how or why.”
A cackle of laughter. “Not even the Keeper knows ’bout the gateways. You jumped…
where from?”
“The Darks. Used to be called Montana. What else do you want to know?”
“Keeper wants to know everythin’, friend. Keeper does know everythin’, friend.
You say you didn’t know where you was comin’?”
“Yeah. Where are we?”
“In good time, friend. Keeper has the redoubt in his charge. Keep it safe. Let
no man enter with hate in his heart. You got hate?”
Ryan shook his head. “No. We come in friendship.”
Around him he could feel the tension of the others. None of them was very good
at waiting.
“Surely shall the lion lay down with the lamb. I have to search the books for
word on what to do. Keeper has to take care. Move not, friends. Leave your
blasters on the floor. I’ll watch. So wait.”
“Let’s run for it,” whispered Okie. She was just behind Ryan.
“Where?” retorted J.B. “Pass that door, and there’ll be another.”
“Can’t just fuckin’ wait for the bullet,” said Hennings, moving to the side of
the passageway and sitting, back against the wall.
“Who do you figure this Keeper is? Some warlord? A baron?”
J.B. shook his head at Ryan’s question. “Could be. Sounds old.” Lowering his
voice, he added, “And crazy as all hell.”
They put their guns in a pile and waited, mostly in silence, for about fifteen
minutes. Eventually all of them except Okie joined Henn on the floor of the
corridor.
“The Keeper has considered. You are people of peace? With, hearts full of
contrite?”
Ryan didn’t know what “contrite” meant, but he nodded anyway. Seemed the best