Must be main man, he thought. Why else guard stand tall?
As the two men came nearer, the sound of their approach woke all the companions except Doc. Exhausted by what had happened, the old man merely stirred in his sleep and turned over.
“Wonder what they want with us?” Ryan mused through gritted teeth, the pain of sitting up immense, despite the strapping on his ribs.
“Well, they’ve got it over us. We’re not in any fit state to break for it,” J.B. said wryly as he gingerly felt his sore leg.
“Mebbe they’ve come to let us know our fate,” Krysty said blandly, although her hair told a different story as it moved close to her neck, hugging her.
There was a brief exchange outside and the lock on the door was turned, the thick wooden barrier being flung open so that it swung back on its hinges to the fullest extent, banging against the wall.
Ryan shook his head. “Do you really think any of us would be that stupe?” he asked, squinting at the figures in the doorway. Although the light of day wasn’t yet strong, after the blackness of the jail it was enough to hurt his eye. The two men framed in the doorway appeared as little more than silhouettes. If they had blasters, they were holding them across their bodies as there was no silhouette of such weapons by their sides.
One of the men in the doorway laughed. From the sound of his voice, it wasn’t the sec patrol leader of the night before. The voice had the same raw-throated richness, but there was a note in there that was almost effete, verging on the hysterical. It was buried so deep that it was inaudible, but the resonance struck something within Krysty’s mutie sense and made her shiver.
He spoke. “The whitelands produce nothing but the stupe. It would have been a natural justice if one of your pathetic heads was cracked like a ripe watermelon.”
“What a terribly nice man,” Doc mumbled, the noise of the slamming door having wakened him. “Such a kind regard for humanity.”
“Humanity, you pale old fool?” the speaker snapped. “What do your people know of humanity?”
“You would be surprised…or mayhap not interested.” Doc yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Now would you mind not making so much noise, and be so kind as to tell us why you have interrupted our much-needed rest?”
There was a moment’s silence. As their eyes adjusted to the light, so the two men in the doorway became more than just shadow. One of them was the sec chief who had led the capture the night before. The other was of the same height and build, but stooped slightly where the other stood erect. He wore spectacles and had a slight squint, even in the dim light. But the most striking thing about him was that he was, like Jak, an albino.
The longer the silence, the more tense Ryan grew. Doc had spoken without thinking, not even properly awake. In so doing, had he annoyed the sec chief?
With no warning or indication, the sec chief burst into loud laughter.
“You may be whiteland scum, but you have the courage of the cornered animal, I will grant you that. Now, let us speak no more of such things. I have come to see the albino, and I have brought my brother to speak with him.”
“Why think I want talk?” Jak asked quietly.
The albino in the doorway stepped forward and hunkered down on his haunches so that he was level with Jak, who remained seated on the ground. He looked Jak over with a curiosity that was akin to viewing insects under glass.
“Fascinating,” he whispered, possibly speaking more to himself than to anyone around him or to Jak. “I had heard legend that the whitelanders could also produce albinos, and that they were treated in the same manner as we. But I had never seen one, nor had I ever expected such a sight…” His voice then increased in volume as he spoke directly to Jak. “How long have you been their slave, my friend, and why do you wish to stay with them when you could be free in our ville— free of their oppression?”