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having Pollard chilled when he had failed to apprehend Kane and his
companions. He had pursued them into Mesa Verde canyon and witnessed them
disappear from the mat-trans unit. Under other circumstances, the little
Pollard had seen would have been far too much. Anything connected to the
Totality
Concept was of the highest security priority. Only members of the Trust had
access to the data, and even they weren't privy to the whole scenario.
However, Pollard despised Kane, and Salvo needed a confidant and, if
necessary, a pawn. Though Kane and Grant might not have been loved by their
fellow Magistrates, they were respected and admired. Their abrupt
disappearance and conviction in absentia of sedition and murder had seriously
damaged morale in the Magistrate Division.
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Salvo's cover story to the division was flimsy, and he knew all the Mags knew
it.
Only their years of conditioning and discipline made them govern their
tongues.
Pollard knew more than they, and he still didn't buy Salvo's version of how
Kane, Baptiste and Grant had been turned by the Preservationists. He allowed
his hatred of Kane, his wounded ego, to keep him from asking the wrong
questions. He was content to be an active player in what was being privately
referred to as Salvo's vendetta.
Salvo was fully aware that his semifictions regarding a handful of operable
gateways hadn't persuaded Pollard a blunt weapon he might be, but he wasn't
stupid. Single-minded to the point of stupidity, perhaps, but so far he hadn't
completely crossed the line.
Turning back to the window, Salvo said, "They're out there somewhere. And
someone knows exactly where."
Pollard lifted the wide yoke of his shoulders in a shrug. "Our intel section
receives daily reports from all the villes. Nothing."
"And from overseas?"
Pollard frowned. "If they're in another country, we wouldn't know about it
yet.
Information takes a minimum of six months to reach us from foreign soil."
Salvo scowled in frustrated anger. Pollard's six-month assessment was
best-case.
Communications and contacts with other countries had all but ceased since the
nukecaust. Over the past eighty years, spotty, fragmented reports had filtered
in about the conditions in Japan, the former United Kingdom and Russia.
However, they were so piecemeal, so sporadic, no clear picture had ever
emerged. Nearly a
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Axler, James - Outlanders 02 - Destiny Run century ago, fear of a foreign
invasion had been one of the rallying cries of the
Unification Program. Except for a handful of old rumors about Japs on the West
Coast and Russkies in Alaska, nothing solid had ever been found to support
this fear.
The architects of the Program of Unification had then drawn their paranoia
from within, spinning ghastly "what if" scenarios about mutie rebellions and
hordes of outlanders marching on the villes. As was the case with the fear of
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foreign invaders, there was no foundation for it.
Agents of the villes dispatched to other nations hadn't fared well, either.
They had to go in sterile, carrying nothing that could peg their point of
origin. Only a few had been sent out. As far as Salvo knew, none had ever
returned.
Glancing over his shoulder at Pollard, he demanded, "What else?"
"The full alert is still in effect, triple red throughout all the villes.
Border patrols have been beefed up and reinforced by all the Mag Divisions.
Deathbirds fly on daily recon missions over all outland settlements. The net
is spread wide."
"It just hasn't snared anyone." Salvo's voice was grim.
Pollard shifted his feet uncomfortably, cleared his throat, "Sir, I was
wondering
"
Salvo turned, angling an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I was wondering what the baron's take is on all of this. I presume you're
keeping him informed."
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Salvo's eyes widened, narrowed, then widened again. Chuckling, he stepped
closer. His right hand swung up and struck Pollard across the face, rocking
his head back on his shoulders, sending his dark glasses flying from his face.
They clattered to the floor.
Pollard didn't make an outcry or say a word. He merely stood, eyes
expressionless, a red flush spreading over his cheek, a spot of blood forming
at the corner of his mouth.
Calmly, softly, Salvo asked, "Anything else you'd care to presume?"
Pollard did not reply.
"I asked you a question. I expect an answer."
"No, sir. Nothing more." His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Good. The lord baron's 'take' on all of this is none of your concern. His
thoughts, his feelings, his whims are none of your concern. You do my bidding
as I do his. If he is displeased, you will know it by my displeasure. Are we
agreed on that?"
"We are. Sir."
Salvo spun away, back toward the window. "Get out of my sight."
He watched Pollard's reflection in the rain-streaked window as the man bent to
retrieve his glasses and hurried into the corridor. As soon as he was gone,
Salvo surveyed the panoramic view of Cobaltville. The rain showed no sign of
abating.
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In fact, it was coming down even harder than before.
He had no choice but to bide his time. But the opportunity would come, he
knew. As sure as death, they would meet face to face again.
He balled his fists and struck the double-glazed pane of glass: It shivered
but didn't crack. Not even the water droplets sliding down the outer surface
jumped from the impact.
"Kane, where the fuck are you?" he muttered to the night. "
Where the fuck are you
?"
Chapter 7
Kane stood at the edge of the precipice, looking down into a deep dark. The
sky over the craggy cliffs was a heavy, leaden gray. The rain had finally
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stopped, and the mountain air smelled clean and fresh, without the slightest
whiff of a chemical taint. The rich scent of wet, grassy meadows and groves of
trees rolled up from the foothills below.
He blew a wreath of smoke into the gathering dusk, glad to be out in the fresh
air, noting ironically he was polluting it with his cigar. No one in Cerberus
smoked but he and Grant, even though Lakesh provided them with cigars.
Hardly anyone used tobacco in any form nowadays. There were mild drugs
available that were much safer, less offensive to others and just as sedative.
But both Kane and Grant had learned to appreciate good cigars during their
many Pit
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Axler, James - Outlanders 02 - Destiny Run patrols back in Cobaltville, and
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