Following the troops past the grandstand was a group of shinto priests of varied rank and importance and their a.s.sistants bearing flutes, tubular bells and drums. This group stopped as the soldiers withdrew, bowed en ma.s.se to the a.s.sembled dignitaries, then moved to the left-hand end of the line-up. In a lengthy ceremony involving the singing of invocations and responses, the waving of burning joss-sticks, the sprinkling of water and the distribution of garlands of paper flowers, the samurai and their flying-horses were blessed on behalf of the Iron Masters' sky-G.o.ds and - presumably - awarded the celestial equivalent of an airworthiness certificate.

Returning to the grandstand, the priests formed up into two lines like a guard of honour, bowed to the a.s.sembly, then turned to face each other. It was the signal for the two domain-lords to descend with their immediate entourage to inspect the aircrews and their flying-machines.

Watching through a narrow gap in the screens at the rear of the pavilion, Steve saw the Consul-General and Toshiro attach themselves to the group as it left the stand.

Shigamitsu and his two chief lieutenants at the Heron Pool followed dutifully behind. Using a 'scope with a zoom lens that had been included in the third airmail package, Steve was able to zero in for head and shoulder shots of individuals in the group. The two guys at the front were obviously the domain-lords but, having never seen either before, he didn't know which was which.

The preliminaries were almost over. In a few minutes the real action would start. He pa.s.sed the 'scope to Cadillac. 'Keep your eye on the Consul-General. Unless they've changed things around again, he's due to open the flying display."

'May I look through this magic eye too?" enquired Clearwater.

'Sure..." Steve sent her a message with his eyes, then started to pull the hidden weapons out of the floor storage units.

Jodi had already checked the house and found it empty.

Every member of Cadillac's small domestic staff was now lined up along the back wall, totally absorbed in the happenings beyond. It was unlikely they would be disturbed, but there was no point in taking chances.

Situations like this were governed by Sod's Law: if something could go wrong, you could bet your last meal-credit it most probably would.

That was why she and Kelso had armed themselves with concealed handguns and were now roving silently around the house, keeping an eye on the various entrances in case they had any unexpected callers.

Stripping off his loose jacket, Steve donned the sleeveless padded vest that AMEXICO had supplied. It contained a holster for his air pistol, pockets for the spare mags and pressure cartridges, and clips to hold the grenades under a loose flap that concealed their telltale outlines.

There was another pocket positioned level with his right elbow to hold the face mask. He filled up the various compartments and selected a lethal c.o.c.ktail of grenades. By the time he was finished, he was a one-man war machine.

He began to load up the three other vests. 'How're we doing?"

Cadillac told him: 'Min-Orota's finished his inspection of the pilots and planes. The man next to him must be Yama-s.h.i.ta. The four machines in the second line are being moved back towards the workshops, but the crews have been stood down and have gone to the front of the stand."

'Good. That's more than enough for us."

'And they've just started to move five from the first line."

'Where to?"

'They're pushing them towards the grandstand. Wait a minute."

Cadillac lapsed into silence, then said: 'Ah, yes * . . They've parked them in a V-formation right in front of the stand, with their tails pointing towards the spectators."

'And the crews?"

'They're positioned front and rear like they were before."

Steve continued loading the pockets of the combat vests. 'So that leaves three out on the field... Can you see their numbers?"

'Yes. Six, Seven and Eight. One to Five are in front of the stand."

'Good." The tidy-minded Iron Masters couldn't have made his task easier. Steve looked up and saw that Clearwater had taken over the 'scope. 'Where's lover boy now?"

'He's handing his swords to your friend, the Herald.

And now he's taking off his hat and wig and tying a scarf around his head." Clearwater moved the 'scope on to Min-Orota, then found Yama-s.h.i.ta's face filling the rectangular frame. She was gripped by a sudden chill as she recognized the slitted eyes and steel-trap mouth.

It was her tormentor, the implacable master of the wheelboats who had crushed, drowned and tortured eight Plainfolk Mutes to demonstrate what could happen to her if she did not obey him.

She felt the hatred well up within her. Not reckless and unreasoning, but cold and calculating. The memory of the merciless game played out on the giant paddle-wheel and-of the two mutilated heads she had had to share her cabin with was still as fresh and as shocking as ever. She had vowed to avenge the deaths of her fellow Mutes and she would do so today. Yes...

this soulless monster and his servants would pay the blood-debt. Many times over.

Oh, Talisman, when I call upon you, lend me your strength I 'Now he's taking his seat in the front of the flying-horse. And a samurai is climbing into the seat behind."

Steve repossessed the 'scope and zeroed in the Consul-General, then panned left on to the tail. Number Seven. Cadillac had told him that one of the G.o.ds in the Iron Masters' pantheon was in charge of lucky breaks.

He didn't know whether they viewed the number seven as having any specially favourable significance, but if they did, the fat man was in for a big surprise.

The set-up was becoming clearer by the second.

Toh-Shiba was going up with Six and Eight acting as escort. All three aircraft were being pushed back on a diagonal line across the field to the take-off point by the workshops, followed by the other two pilots and their observers. Yama-s.h.i.ta and Min-Orota were returning to their seats in the stand.

And the Herald? Ah, yes ... he was walking past Min-Orota's troops towards the government detachment, moving forward on a line that would take him to Steve's right. Steve tracked ahead with the 'scope and caught sight of Toshiro's horse with its distinctive trappings.

Another mounted samurai was holding the reins. Steve watched as the Herald was helped up into the saddle. He had obviously decided to improve his chances of survival by staying mobile. Smart move . . .

Steve called Jodi and Kelso back into the study and handed out the combat vests. They put them on under their tunics. Steve helped Cadillac into his. 'I hope you know how to use this stuff..."

'If you do I do."

'Yeah, well, this is the one to watch." He unclipped a gas grenade and explained its effects to Cadillac and Clearwater, and how they could protect, themselves by using the face-mask. He handed the last one to Clearwater and told her to try it on.

Steve saw her eyes widen in alarm through the visor as her m.u.f.fled voice leaked through the side-filters. 'I feel as if I am drowning!"

She pulled the mask off quickly.

He laid a calming hand on her arm. 'There's nothing to be frightened about. You're not going to suffocate.

Just breathe deeply. You won't have to wear it for long, but you must put it on when you see any of us give this signal -' he brought his hand down over his face.

'Immediately. You understand?"

Clearwater nodded.

'And don't take it off until we remove ours. You got that?"

'Yes."

'Okay. Time to get changed." Steve produced a canvas tote-bag and handed it to Clearwater, then placed a faded blue Tracker worksuit on top of it. 'Pack your white mask, robe and whatever you're wearing underneath in the bag. But do it carefully. Did you bring that set of body-paints?"