Steve nodded. 'This one is more than just bright. He's got some of that Mute magic you've heard about but aren't supposed to believe in.

Don't ask me to explain how it's done, but if you teach him anything, he's able to tap into your brain and siphon off everything you know just like sucking Korngold through a straw."

'Shee-ii-ittt . . ."

'My sentiments exactly. Fortunately, no one back home knows about that yet. If they did, I'd still be in the A-levels. But after I'd done three months on the sewage detail, some high-wire gave me the chance to put things right ' 'Or else they'd shaft little sister..."

Steve spread his hands. 'I had to do it, Jodi."

She nodded soberly. 'Okay, a.s.suming I buy that - how does it play from here on in?"

'I have to find some way to lift that Mute out of here and get him back home in one piece. With his friend. There's two of 'em."

'Sounds interesting. You planning to do this all by yourself?"

'No. I'm hoping you'll help me. For old time's sake."

Jodi's eyes narrowed. 'Jeer . . . you've got a f.u.c.king nerve."

'I know. You already told me. But let's stop pretending.

You don't deserve to be here any more than I do.

You're not a breaker, Jodi, you're a True Blue. If Malone's gang hadn't found you, you'd have made it back home - broken arm an' all."

Steve glanced over his shoulder at the advancing rescuers. 'Look, just think about it. And in the meantime, why don't you go weak at the knees so I can pretend to revive you and look as if I'm doing something useful."

'I've got a feeling I'm going to live to regret this."

Steve treated her to one of his winning smiles. 'What can you lose?

If you don't like the idea you can always turn me in. I'm in your hands."

'You're right... ' Jodi let her legs fold under her.

Steve ran round the nose of the glider and cradled her limp body in his arms. 'Trust me,' he whispered, patting her face. 'If we pull this one off we'll both be heroes."

'I can't stay long,' said Steve.

'Don't worry, you'll be okay for a while." Cadillac led the way into what he called his 'study'. 'I've fixed things with the head man.

He's sent one of our Mutes down to the post-house at Wah-seisa with a message telling them you've been delayed." He smiled. 'You offered invaluable a.s.sistance at the scene of an accident and are now answering questions that may help us discover what went wrong. So relax. Make yourself at home." He swept a

hand around the room. 'What d'you think?"

Steve made a quick appraisal of the interior. Sliding wall screens afforded a view of the neatly trimmed areas of gra.s.s and various other types of vegetation that surrounded Cadillac's dwelling place. The floor, on which they stood in stockinged feet, was covered with the ubiquitous tatami - rectangular straw mats that the Iron Masters produced in prodigious quant.i.ties and traded with the Mutes. A narrow raised section down one side of the room was fitted with storage s.p.a.ce underneath.

The main floor area contained a low, box-type table and two sitting mats, a large drafting table set at an angle on trestles, a stool, a stand holding jars of what Steve presumed to be drafting implements, and a rack which held rolls of what the d.i.n.ks called 'paper'. Apart from the drafting table set-up which indicated an untidy human presence, the room bore the usual stamp of stripped-down anonymity that Steve had come to a.s.sociate with Iron Master interiors.

'Not bad."

Cadillac responded with a dry, mocking laugh. 'Not bad! It's fantastic! Can you imagine what it's like, after all those years living on your hands and knees in a skin hut, to actually be able to stand up and still not be able to touch the roof?." He shook his head dismissively. 'I tell you - these people know what living is all about."

The dwelling place Cadillac had taken him to lay outside the Heron Pool compound, some two hundred yards down the road towards Mara-bara. Set amidst shrubs and trees on a well-tended patch of ground, it reminded Steve of the stand-alone unit at the post-house where he had met with Clearwater and the Man in Black.

For some time now, Steve had been wondering if there was a 'hidden'

Basic vocabulary that held the word-concepts to describe the things he had seen since entering Ne-Issan. Coming, as he did, from the underground world of the Federation where military organisation and terminology shaped the lives and thoughts of everyone from the President-General down, Steve had been unable to give full expression to what he had seen and felt during his travels across the overground.

Even something as simple as the small collapsible huts used by the Plainfolk Mutes had been a new idea to a.s.similate. The wheelboats had been less of a problem.

Although they were totally alien structures, they could be viewed as primitive, sea-borne wagon-trains and thus understood in terms of past experience. But the bewildering variety of Iron Master architecture which was the outward expression of a totally different lifestyle opened up a whole new world. Palaces, houses, pavilions, cottages, shops, markets, towns, villages and hamlets were word-concepts Steve had never encountered before, just as he had once been unaware of the existence of words, states such as 'love' and 'freedom'.

Meeting Clearwater had changed all that, and he was conscious that the memory of her stood between Cadillac and himself at this very moment: invisible yet as tangible and as disturbing as if she had been physically present in the room.

Cadillac slid open a wall panel, revealing a row of shelves. He took out a porcelain bottle of sake and two small bowls bearing the same glazed design. Placing the bowls on the drafting table, he filled them with a professional flourish and motioned Steve to pick one up.

They raised their bowls to each other and touched rims.

'To old times,' said Cadillac. His voice and face gave no hint as to whether he viewed them as being good or bad, but he swallowed the contents of the bowl at one gulp - an indication perhaps that he needed something to kill the pain or to give himself an extra boost in order to deal with his unexpected visitor.

Mindful of the tongue-loosening effects of the sake he'd drunk with n.o.buro, Steve took it nice and slow and concentrated on reading his rival. He hadn't antic.i.p.ated meeting Cadillac this early, and in this fashion, and wasn't quite sure how to play it.

Cadillac refilled his bowl, stoppered the bottle and bolstered himself with another big swallow. 'So... what brings you here?"

Steve adopted the same low-key approach. 'Ohh, various things. I brought you a message from Mr Snow."

He saw Cadillac's eyes flicker at the mention of his teacher's name. A guilty conscience, fond memory, a lingering sense of loyalty, it didn't matter. It was a gap in his defences that could be exploited.

'He sent you here?"

'Not exactly. He was worried about you. When he discovered you hadn't come back on the wheelboat ' 'You were at the trading post?"

Steve had a simple rule in situations like this. Stick to the truth wherever possible, deflect the awkward questions by appearing dense, save the lies for real emergencies. And if you had to lie, go for the big one and frame it in a way that would exploit the weakest aspects of the recipient's character.

'Yes. That rig you and I built gave up on me. I never made it back to the Federation."

'I didn't think you would -not without a motor."

'No. Mr Snow told me you did a first-cla.s.s job on that."

'Yes. Even you would have been impressed."

'I am. Anyway - there I was stuck in the middle of nowhere. Got picked up by some redskins. We holed up during the snows, then, sometime during what you call the New Earth, a whole bunch of us were captured by the M'Calls."

Cadillac reacted with surprise. 'Mr Snow sold you down the river?"

'No,' laughed Steve. 'I offered to come and find you.