“J.B.?” Ryan asked.
The Armorer held steady, then said, “Dark night, yeah, for a while, mebbe. But if everyone is spooked, then it’s time to go. Even you.”
“Okay,” Ryan assented. “Even me.”
IT WAS DIFFICULT for Ryan to know where to begin. Somehow he needed to broach the subject with the baron, yet at the same time he figured that he would need to build his trust. But how could any of them do that when there seemed nothing to do?
Raw was run on strict communal lines. Everyone had a task, and everyone carried it out. Offers of help were politely but firmly refused by the ville dwellers, none of whom seemed concerned with getting to know the outlanders. Not from any sense of hostility or xenophobia—rather, it was because they were busy and happy in their tasks. Even when the Armorer dropped by the armory and offered to help, examining the store of blasters and grens and passing compliments on their condition, as well as dropping snippets of knowledge to encourage a dialogue, he was politely but firmly turned away. It was frustrating for J.B., who, if nothing else, had looked forward to killing time on his great love.
Alien had the community running like a well-oiled machine. No one other than the sec forces carried blasters inside the tunnels—no one other than the companions, that was, who still carried theirs about their person. There seemed to be no fights or feuds, and everyone the companions spoke to offered generous praise for Alien.
Yet it wasn’t the fulsome and hollow praise of fear. It was a genuine love for a baron who tried to do his best for his people. Even Krysty, still spooked by the constant doomie feelings from Jenna that she could feel snaking like tendrils throughout the ville, came to warm to the large baron, whose twinkling eyes made him like some idyllic leader from myth.
“We aren’t the Illuminated Ones, but we are from them,” he told Ryan once more. “Some of those ideas and ideals came down to me from my family, and from those who taught me. I just try to put them into action. If this Erewhon place does actually exist, then mebbe it’ll be like us with much more riches. Mebbe not. Mebbe they got lost somewhere along the way, which is what my family taught me. I don’t know if I want us to know.”
The one-eyed warrior found this frustrating, but yielded to the baron’s obvious sincerity.
Nonetheless, after three days of idling around the ville, discovering nothing of any import and finding nothing to usefully pass their time, even Ryan found himself tiring of life underground.
“Face it, we’re not going to learn anything from them,” Mildred said as they held a meeting in the privacy of their unit. “Perhaps because there isn’t actually anything to learn.”
Ryan assented. “Dammit, I thought we were really onto something here. But the longer we hang around, the more we’re tempting Jenna. She doesn’t like us here, and she may come up with something if we don’t go.”
“So we check our equipment and head out?” J.B. prompted.
Ryan nodded. “I’ll see Alien when the lights go up tomorrow. Tell him thanks, but we’ve got to be going. He’s a good man, but I think he’ll be glad to see the back of us.”
“Harvey certainly will,” Dean interjected. “The other guys are okay, but he’s nervous with us around.”
“I wonder why that should be,” Doc mused. He had dropped out of the conversation to such a degree that the others thought he had drifted into sleep. “If Alien has nothing to hide, which I do not believe he has, then why would his sec chief be so jumpy around us?”
“Like always hiding something,” Jak added.
“That’s been bugging me, too,” Ryan finished, “but that’s between him and the baron and whoever else. Not us. Not now.”
But his voice lacked conviction.
THE CHANCE to make a peace and farewell with Alien didn’t occur. It was superseded by a far more pressing matter.
The lights outside the sleeping unit were still dim, so it was still officially night when Mildred and Dean were both jolted awake by the sound of running feet echoing through the tunnels.