“I know, but I wanted the facts first.”
Doc interjected. “Quite often, young Mr. Cawdor, someone’s life will depend on the rapid exchange of information. Although we have got plenty of time to go before sundown, it is still a good rule to obey.”
“All right,” Dean said, dejected. “I’ll make a note of it for next time.”
J.B. put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “C’mon, you can tell me all about it while Jak puts those squirrels on the spit.”
Dean’s face lit up in excitement. “Well, there was only a six-inch gap in the fence and…”
“FRUIT?” RHONDA ASKED, holding an apple in her hand.
“Said they don’t trade breeders for food,” Ganley said.
“But you told us that they send wag trains to the eastern villes all the time, trading breeders for all kinds of supplies. Not just blasters.”
“They do. I’ve seen them do it.” The sec chief shook his head. “Felt to me like their trader was busy with some other problem right now and just wanted to get rid of us, quick as he could.”
“I got that impression, too,” Franz said.
Ruznicki nodded. “Me, too.”
“So,” Rhonda said, “what do we do now?”
“We wait for dark,” Ganley said, pulling a peach out of the bag of fruit they’d brought back to the camp.
“And then we take from them what they wouldn’t give us in trade.”
CLARISSA RETURNED to the wag late in the afternoon. She was being trailed by a few muties, but they were hanging well back and seemed more concerned with the farm than following her.
“Muties are ready?”
“They can’t wait to get inside,” Clarissa said. “But there’s something else you need to know about.”
“What’s that?” J.B. asked.
“Traders at the farm today.”
“We saw them,” J.B. said. “Did their business and went away.”
Clarissa shook her head. “Not quite. There’s more to the group than the ones trading. They’re camped to the south of the farm.”
“What want?” Jak asked.
“Not fruit—that’s for sure. They dumped half of what they traded for on their way back to their camp.”
“That is strange,” Doc commented.
“The muties loved it,” Clarissa said. “They’ve circled their camp waiting for more.”
Jak looked at J.B. “Call off tonight?”
J.B. was silent a moment, noting that the sun was low in the western sky and less than an hour from sliding below the horizon. “No. There’s no time,” he said. “Ryan, Mildred and Krysty are expecting us tonight.”
“What about the traders?” Clarissa asked.
“If they wanted more than fruit, my guess is that when our blasters light up the dark, they’ll be on our side.”
THE SUN WAS ALMOST GONE from the day and the sky was streaked in a rainbow of fiery reds, glowing oranges and searing yellows. Flashes of greenish-blues cut between the hues like portals to another time.
It was a beautiful sight, one few had the time to admire.
For Grundwold, the setting sun meant he had failed. The one-eyed outlander was still hidden somewhere on the farm, and his chances of escaping the complex outright would improve with every minute of darkness.
“Should I call back the sec men to guard the main building through the night?” Fillinger asked.
Grundwold considered it, but knew he couldn’t tell the baron that the outlander was still on the loose. And as long as he kept searching, he hadn’t failed. “No more than a dozen men,” Grundwold ordered. “Turn on the lights and leave the rest of them out there in the orchards.”
“But they’ll be easy targets to chill for a single man in the dark,” Fillinger stated.
The sec chief realized he was putting his men at risk, but there was no other choice; the search had to continue. “If one of them gets chilled, then at least we’ll know where the one-eye is.”
Fillinger was silent a moment, then said, “What about the baron. He’ll want a report.”
“Find Norman Bauer,” Grundwold said. “Tell him to send two breeders to the baron’s quarters. That should keep him busy for a while.”
Fillinger nodded, then turned to carry out the sec chiefs orders.
“Now,” Grundwold muttered. “Let’s go find the outlander.”