'That's the general idea. So what?"

'Well . . . they don't even let low'ranking d.i.n.ks ride' horses.

They're reserved for samurai - like these airplanes you're making.

Won't they object to a slave becoming a pilot?"

'I don't see why they should,' replied Cadillac. 'Trackers are slaves too. Okay, they may be better educated and some may possess high-level technical skills, but the Iron Masters don't place any greater value on their lives.

That's because there's not enough of you in Ne-Issan to form a useful workforce on their own - on top of which you can't reproduce yourselves. As far as the j.a.ps are concerned, we're all lumped together at the bottom of the heap and we're all expendable."

'Except you,' said Steve.

Cadillac greeted the proposition with a lopsided grin.

'Yeah, that's what I've been telling myself." The bottle of sake clattered against the rim of the cup as he refilled it.

'But I heard something today which may oblige me to, uhh. cut short my stay."

Steve waved away the offered bottle. 'Oh, yeah?"

'Yeah... I overheard Min-Orota's people talking as they were on their way out. If the flight tests using these rockets prove satisfactory they're going to send a group of samurai to Heron Pool for pilot training."

Steve's mind swiftly grasped the possibilities this move opened up.

'Congratulations."

Cadillac eyed him sullenly. 'They may be a little premature."

'I don't understand. Isn't this what you expected?"

'That wasn't all I heard. The j.a.ps who have been looking over our shoulders are all craft-masters."

'So . . .?"

'Isn't it obvious? They're drafting in their own people to help us complete this first batch. When the samurai earn their wings they'll be in a position to teach others to fly."

'Yeah, go on..."

'And they will also have learnt every detail of the production process.

We could find ourselves surplus to requirements."

All this was music to Steve's ears, but he couldn't resist clawing back a few points. The and the other guys, perhaps, but not you, surely after all you've done?"

Cadillac eyed him but he didn't say anything.

Steve could see the Mute was steadily drinking himself into insensibility, but he was still able to feel that little shaft drive home. Time for another. 'I'm surprised you didn't see it coming.

Haven't you been reading the stones?"

'Not since I saw the pain and grief you were going to bring. You're bad news, Brickman."

Steve kept it light. 'Hey, c'mon! That's past history.

What happened wasn't my fault. "The Path is drawn."

Isn't that what Mr Snow said? I'm here 'cause I'm trying to help. Why don't you grab a reading-stone and get an update on what's due to happen to us?"

Cadillac shook his head wearily. 'Won't work. I've looked, but I...

can't find one."

'But there has to be ' 'Oh, sure, they're here. I just can't see them anymore." He raised his cup of sake. 'This seems to have dulled my perception."

'Pity,' said Steve. 'Guess we'll just have to work round it." He would have liked to know if they were going to get away - but on the other hand it meant Cadillac didn't have a clue about what was going to happen. It was better that way. If he was brought in on the escape plan, then had yet another change of heart, it would only complicate matters even further.

Cadillac tried to bolster his morale with another stiff shot of the pale yellow liquor, but he couldn't keep his steely-eyed act together.

His voice cracked and his face crumpled. He leaned forward quickly and ma.s.saged his cheeks and forehead in an effort to hide his tears. 'Why is it my life always falls apart whenever you appear?"

Steve felt a twinge of remorse. 'You're reading it wrong,' he said softly. 'Your life's not falling apart. It's coming together."

Cadillac kept his head down, 'Oh, yeah?" he sniffed.

'Yeah! What the eff-eff are you complaining about?

Mr Snow's taught you all he knows. Add in everything you picked up from me and the other guys here and what you've learned from these hairless wonders, h.e.l.l - you're like a two-legged version of COLUMBUS!'

'Except I may not be walking around on two legs much longer."

'Don't even think about it!" cried Steve. 'You gotta stay on top of this thing! Okay. Maybe the j.a.ps are planning to take over this operation, but that won't be until after you've shown 'em you can put these birds in the air and keep 'em there."

'Yeah, but. supposing we fail?"

Boy! thought Steve. When this guy hits a downer he goes straight to the bottom of the shaft...

He didn't know that alcoholic elation could flip over into manic depression between one swallow and the next. 'It's not going to fail!

We're going to do the best job we can and we're going to put this place on the map because when this project finally takes off, so do we."

Cadillac slowly raised his head and fixed his eyes on Steve. 'Oh, yeah? Just how do we do that?"

Bad move, thought Steve. Bad move! 'Leave all that to me,' he said hastily. 'You've got enough to worry about." He moved the bottle out of reach. 'And go easy on this stuff. Otherwise you'll end up with a headful of boiled rice instead of brains."

'What about Clearwater?"

'Don't worry. When, and if, the time comes, she'll be right with you."