And when they revealed all, who knew what might happen then? A stout-hearted man, protected by the most powerful incantations of the palace priests, might find a way to destroy their malevolent powers by means of a poisoned draught or a knife-thrust delivered in the dead of night.

As this idea pa.s.sed through Sakimoto's mind, a slim dagger materialised out of thin air and buried its point into the tatami, a few inches in front of his toes. Sakimoto jumped back. Beside it appeared a blue and white porcelain cup, filled with a dark liquid. Staring down at it, he saw the image of a grinning skull reflected in its surface.

'You disappoint us, sire. Is that how n.o.ble lords of the Yama-s.h.i.ta plan to reward those who come to their aid?"

By the Great Divine Oneness of being! These devils could read his unspoken thoughts as well... I Having blown their hosts out of their split-toed cotton socks with an unparalleled display of magic, Cadillac proceeded to whet their appet.i.tes with a promise to reveal a secret that could - if properly exploited by determined men - topple the TohYota.

Sniffing the air like a hunting dog, he declared that he could sense the evil presence of the Toh-Yota within the palace walls. At the moment, its form was too elusive to define, but if - beginning tomorrow - his hosts would permit Rain-Dancer and himself to examine any area of the palace they felt drawn to, he promised to root it out.

When found, it would prove that the Toh-Yota - who for so long had b.u.t.tressed their sovereignty by claiming to represent the soul of the nation - had cynically betrayed the traditional values it sought to uphold by using devices powered by the Dark Light to maintain its grip on the reins of power.

The magic had been awesome enough, but this unexpected charge was absolutely staggering and, potentially, so explosive, no one in the Yama-s.h.i.ta family regretted having to swallow their pride and treat these two gra.s.s-monkey witches as equals.

'The Dark Light is so feared it has become a mystery that many cannot comprehend,' said Sakimoto. 'This proof you speak of... will it be something that honest men can approach and recognise without placing themselves in mortal danger?"

Cadillac laughed. 'It is only the Toh-Yota who are in mortal danger!

The proof I intend to place before you will win over your most faint-hearted ally. Summon them now to a secret council and allow me to address them.

I promise you they will not leave here without having pledged to raise their battle flags alongside that of the Yamas.h.i.ta!" Aishi Sakimoto needed no further prompting. After ensuring that his two extraordinary guests were comfortably housed in a pavilion that nestled amongst trees and rocks in the landscaped gardens of the palace, he despatched coded messages via courier-pigeons to the neighbouring Ko-Nikka and Se-Iko, to the Hi-Tashi and San-Yo in the far south of the country and the Fu-Jitsu and Na-Shuwa in the north.

After a brief but intense period of reflection, he decided to issue two more invitations: to the SuZuki and the Min-Orota.

In the lists drawn up by Progressives and Traditionalists whenever coups were discussed, the Su-Zuki were cla.s.sified as neutral but favouring the Shogun. It would be vital to win their support before any military action could succeed.

The Min-Orota - led by Lord Kiyomori - occupied another strategic position. They were allied to TohYota by marriage, but that hadn't stopped Domain-Lord Kiyo getting together with Lord Hirohito Yama-s.h.i.ta in a bid to resurrect the Dark Light. The bid had failed. The plot had been uncovered by Ieyasu, Lord Hirohito had been killed and Kiyomori Min-Orota had seized the chance to save the necks of his own family by naming names.

It was a sordid betrayal but Hirohito had known the risks he was taking in trying to win over the Min-Orota.

Kiyo was widely regarded as a devious sonofab.i.t.c.h, but given the circ.u.mstances, his swift dash back into the Shogun's camp was the mark of a political realist.

Kiyomori Min-Orota was not a supporter of lost causes.

In Ne-Issan, very few people were, for the simple reason that most people on the losing side of any overt political power struggle ended up as a small heap of grey ash inside a stone pot.

But now, with the appearance of these two powerful witches, there was a possibility that Fortune was about to smile on the Yama-s.h.i.ta. The deaths, defeats and humiliations which the family had suffered over the last two years might yet be put to good account. And when the battle lines were drawn, Lord Min-Orota, who over the same period had signalled that he was anxious to effect a reconciliation, would not want to be on the losing side.

Sakimoto had no doubt he was still as untrustworthy as ever, but even potential traitors had their uses. The final reckoning could come later ....

Far to the south, in one of the several luxurious enclaves which made up Cloudlands, Steve followed Karlstrom across the tracks of the main depot of the railway that was the First Family's private plaything. A gleaming 4-6-2 locomotive stood outside the engine shed. Steam curled from the funnel and the huge reciprocating valves that powered the gleaming steel driving shafts.

Karlstrom paused and watched fondly as another engine shunted slowly past. 'Amazing, aren't they?" He crossed the last two tracks. 'This one's a real beauty."

When they drew level with the cab, Karlstrom stood aside and motioned Steve to climb aboard first.

Reaching the footplate, Karlstrom unhooked a two-way radio and spoke to the yard marshal's office. 'This is Baker-King plus one aboard Southern Belle on Stand Five. You got any dear track for me?"

'Stand-by, Baker-King. Affirmative. We're switching you out of the yard onto the north-eastern section. You're clear up-line as far as Beaumont."

'Roger. Thanks, Ned. Under steam and pulling away."

Steve took the radio from Karlstrom's outstretched hand and returned it to its place on the wall of the cab. After leaning out to check both sides of the track, ahead and behind, Karlstrom released the brakes and eased open the throttle. The huge locomotive shuddered momentarily as the driving wheels got a proper purchase on the rails, amid a deafening hiss of steam, then began to glide forward. 'See that stack of logs behind you?"

Steve checked the loaded tender and nodded.

Karlstrom handed him a pair of heavy work-gloves.

'Stick a couple of dozen into the firebox." He leant down and unlocked the door to the roaring furnace. 'Once they're in, push 'em to the back with that stoking iron." 'Yess-sirr!" Steve went to work.

When the firebox was full, Steve took his stand at the window on the opposite of the cab to Karlstrom. They had left the yard behind and were now rolling east through open country. They pa.s.sed several work-details of Mutes labouring on the down-line under Tracker overseers.

Some of the Trackers were armed with carbines, and rode aboard blue six-wheel vehicles - a type Steve had never seen before.

'Bobcats,' shouted Karlstrom, sensing the question in Steve's mind. He checked the steam and brake pressure dials then leaned back out of the driver's side-window.

Steve, whose antennae were always extended in situations like this, was fascinated by the change in Karlstrom's demeanour. He was still issuing orders in the same peremptory manner but he was no longer the dry, ruthless Director of AMEXICO that Steve had first encountered.

Karlstrom seemed exhilarated by the rush of air on his face, mixing with the smell of engine oil, warm iron and woodsmoke. He was really enjoying himself.

Like a small boy ....

Karlstrom eyed him shrewdly. 'What d'you think?" he demanded. 'Isn't this great?!" 'Yes." Steve rodded some more logs into the firebox, closed it off and straightened up. 'It's also tough on the back."

'Nothing comes easy, Brickanan. If you want to be an

engine-driver, you have to learn to be a fireman first."

Karlstrom smiled. 'You ought to consider yourself lucky.

Some people never even get to ride in the cab."

'No, sir. I'm aware of that." Steve watched Karlstrom rub his oily rag tenderly over the gleaming pipe work.

The way you might caress a naked woman. 'Are all the First Family hooked on trains?"

'The ones that count are,' said Karlstrom. 'It's in the blood. It was the train that opened up America. Forget the covered wagons - the long lines of prairie schooners.

It's the men who built the locos and the railroads who were the real pioneers. That was the era when America first achieved real greatness.

You could travel coast to coast and north to south. D'you wanna know something?

In the golden years, there were three hundred and sixty thousand miles of track! Can you imagine that?! The railways were the arteries and veins of the nation, the trains its life blood."

Steve nodded respectfully. Karlstrom's eyes, fired up with a pa.s.sion he had never displayed in more formal encounters, reminded Steve of good o" crazy Uncle Bart.

'But then, weren't railways superseded by the highways and what the Mutes call beetles?"

'Automobiles." Karlstrom's mouth wrinkled with distaste.