And 8902 Brickman, their Plainfolk brother was sitting in a Federation Skyhawk, dressed in the camouflage fatigues worn by the hated occupants of the iron snakes.

No good relying on the nose-mounted Vulcan. The six barrels were buried in the dirt underneath the nose and in any case, since it fired on a fixed line, all they would have needed to do was step out of the way. The only gun on board, the pistol in the emergency survival kit, was in a special outside compartment behind the c.o.c.kpit on the port side.

Nice one, Stevie. . .

While he was trying to work out an appropriate way of introducing himself, death and deliverance dropped out of the sky. A blue 'Hawk came round the far edge of the larch forest behind his starboard wing and swept in at zero feet with all six barrels pumping steel. The line of Mutes attempted to scatter, but the 'Hawk pilot had positioned himself well, catching the line end on. All fourteen went down spraying blood as the needlepoint rounds scythed through their bodies.

Steve threw the c.o.c.kpit cover open, and hauled himself out with infinite care. He could no longer put any weight on his left ankle.

Terrific .... He shifted his b.u.t.t onto the rim of the c.o.c.kpit and watched the Skyhawk make a climbing turn to port. Steve shuffled along to the port side emergency panel, released the catch, and got his hands on the survival kit. He tossed the rations and first aid packages aside, revealing the loaded pistol in its neatly packed shoulder-holster. Pocketing the spare magazines, he pulled out the pistol, then limped back towards the c.o.c.kpit and stood with his right hand thrust inside, concealing the gun.

He was hoping the Skyhawk pilot might land and offer a lift on his buddy frame. If he did, Steve planned to shoot him and move on. But the Skyhawk did not land.

It continued to circle overhead.

Commander Bob Carroll was not in a rescuing mood today ....

Steve gazed up at the 'Hawk and tried to work out what to do. The problem was solved by the arrival of a camouflaged SkyRider. The kind used by AMEXICO.

Definitely not good news.

The SkyRider made a low pa.s.s over Steve's position, then climbed back to make an approach and landing on his port side, b.u.mping to a halt about eighty yards away.

Beyond the effective range of his air pistol. The pilot kept the engine running. The pa.s.senger canopy opened.

A helmeted figure in camouflage fatigues got out, came round the nose of the SkyRider and stood watching him.

Steve tightened his grip on the hidden pistol.

A second helmeted figure came out from behind the SkyRider carrying a rifle. He went down on one knee and took aim. The rising sun that warmed Steve's back flared briefly off the lens of a telescopic sight as a triple volley tore into his right shoulder, slamming him back against the c.o.c.kpit. The pistol flew out of his hand as it jerked open, bounced off the seat and fell beyond reach.

It doesn't hurt, Brickman. Nothing hurts any more. Steve straightened up and put his weight on his good leg as the first helmeted figure pulled a pistol from his shoulder holster and walked towards him. As he got closer, he raised his helmet visor.

'Hiya, John. So this is how it goes, huh?"

Chisum nodded and levelled the pistol at Steve's chest.

The three barrels were barely a foot away. 'I hope you understand.

This is nothing personal."

Steve gave a tired laugh, remembering Malone. Forgive me little sister! A short agonised cry burst from Roz's lips as she was hurled backwards from the water pan by an invisible blow to her chest. The force lifted her off her knees and sent her sprawling on the dusty ground.

Cadillac, Clearwater and Meri rushed to pick her up, carrying her by the arms and legs to where a blanket had been spread out. Cadillac knelt down and cradled her head. Roz looked shocked and bewildered.

Her eyes moved desperately from face to face but didn't seem to focus.

'Oh, Sweet Mother!" cried Cadillac. He threw out a hand to try and staunch the blood that welled from a jagged hole between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Roz gripped Clearwater's wrist fiercely. 'The knife!

Use the knife! Save my child!" Clearwater began loosening the thongs that held Roz's leather bodice together. There was blood everywhere.

She turned to Meri. 'Quick! Unwrap her skirt, then bring the cloths and water."

As the woman got busy, Clearwater ran to fetch the knife which lay on the whetstone. When she returned, Roz's eyes had started to glaze.

Clearwater straddled her right thigh and told Meri to hold her down her other leg.

'What are you going to do?!" cried Cadillac.

Clearwater blocked his outstretched hand and pushed it away. 'What she asked me to do! Be strong' She took a deep breath, called upon Mo-Town to aid her, then placed the knife against Roz's distended belly and made a lateral cut through the skin and then another deep cut through the abdominal wall. A crescent-shaped gap opened up, exposing the swollen uterus, covered with a film of blood. Clearwater began to cut it open from the top down, to free the unborn foetus within.

Cadillac gave an anguished shout then shut his eyes and held onto Roz as her life drained away. He heard the sucking cry of a new born'

child.

'It's a girl,' said Clearwater.

Cadillac looked up. The lower half of Roz's body had been covered up.

The baby' lay on a clean cloth, its umbilical severed and tied. Meri cleaned its eyes and finished drying it then pa.s.sed it to Clearwater, who cradled it tenderly and let it suckle her left breast.

Cadillac read the comforting message in her eyes. The shared sorrow, the shared love. Their lives had come together again. The bond between them had always been.

Now it would take on a new richness, for they both knew that within them lived the spirit of the one the other had loved and lost. As long as they drew breath, Roz and Steve would never die.

He laid Roz gently to rest on the blanket, kissed her still warm lips then reached out to touch their child. The baby's head was perfectly formed and covered with wispy white hair. She was smooth-boned with a pale flawless body and dark arms - like wings.

And they called her Snow-Raven.

"... Man-Child or Woman-child the One may be Whosoever is chosen shall grow straight and strong as the Heroes of the Old Time The morning dew shall be his eyes the blades of gra.s.s shall be his ears and the name of the One shall be Talisman..."