Ironheart (13 page)

Bulldog shrugged, and sucked his teeth. ‘No bigger shares,’ he said. ‘These are just friends of mine who’ve had a little run in with the Company, that’s
all.’

India smiled pleasantly but Tashar had clearly put her into a category marked ‘unwelcome guest’. ‘I know who they are, Captain. It’s all over the yards that the Company
is out looking for them. They say they’re spies working for the Chinese and that they stole Company information. The reward on the robot alone is five thousand.’

‘That’s a lie!’ said India. ‘The Company hired Mrs Brown to find my dad’s journals but then they kidnapped her and tried to kill me.’

‘Actually,’ said Calc, ‘I’m an android—’

‘Who cares?’ said Tashar. She threw her head back and blew a lazy smoke ring. ‘Either way, you’re valuable property if we decide to cash you in.’

‘That’s enough, Tashar!’ said Bulldog, suddenly cold-eyed and dangerous.

‘So why are they here, Captain?’ said Pieter, ‘and what about our trip to the Caspian Sea?’

Bulldog pushed his plate away. ‘There’s been a change of plan,’ he said casually. ‘I’ve got a hot lead on a tech-mine. Easiest money we’ll ever make,
guaranteed. We’re headed east towards Uliuiu Cherchekh.’

Tashar spluttered a mouthful of vodka across the table. ‘Have you gone stinking crazy-mad?’ she coughed.

‘Er, Captain,’ ventured Pieter. ‘That’s further than our operating range and long rigging in winter is no joke.’

Bulldog waved the objections aside and spread a large chart on the table in front of him. ‘No worries. I know a few station captains on the way who’ll let us have diesel. We’ll
stick to the forest trails and the river valleys to save fuel.’

‘This is about Ironheart, isn’t it?’ said Tashar. ‘Everyone knows that Stone is looking for it but there’s no proof that it even exists. We don’t need this
craziness, we should turn these two in for the reward and then head south like we planned. Let’s put it to a vote!’

‘Enough!’ Bulldog’s fist crashed on the table. ‘Damn it, Tashar, you’re forgetting who gave you a job as a rig jockey when your licence was revoked. And, Pieter,
you’d still be in a Company jail if I hadn’t sprung you out. You were both keen enough to follow me then, so listen to me now. There’s something valuable under those mountains,
something bigger than we’ve ever seen before, and we’re going to find it before anyone else does because, like India says, that’s what pirates do. They look for
treasure!’

There was a loud clattering up the stairs and Rat burst through the door, but then stood paralysed in front of the strangers. His mouth opened and shut like a fish. Bulldog took him gently by
the shoulders.

‘Rat! Calm down, son, what is it? Ignore them and tell me what’s going on.’

Rat managed to squeeze out a few words. ‘Men coming!’ he blurted. ‘Black coats, with guns!’

‘Black coats? You mean Sid’s boys? How many?’

‘T-twenty-six. W-with guns.’

‘He’s right, Captain,’ said Calculus, looking out of the door. ‘There are several heat signatures headed this way from the direction of the loading docks.’

Bulldog swung into action and started handing out orders. ‘Tashar, for crying out loud, sober up and get on the main deck. Pieter, run the start-up sequence. Rat, go outside and secure all
the maintenance panels. Anything that can’t be tied down, just leave it behind. Go!’

They jumped to their duties in a surprisingly well-disciplined way. India and Calculus pressed themselves to the wall as Rat scooted down the steps and Pieter disappeared into Engineering while
Tashar and Bulldog hauled themselves into their driving seats. When Tashar turned on the electrical systems the wallboards lit up and the tractor engines burst into life with a deep-throated roar.
The deck-plates rattled and vibrated and the smell of diesel filled the cabin.

Tashar pushed forward on a long lever and one of the tracks started to move, turning the rig slowly towards a range of mountains in the East. India clutched the table for support as the great
machine began to roll forwards slowly, tracks clanging against the hard ground.

‘More speed!’ shouted Bulldog. ‘Let’s get to the mountains before they can send a patrol after us.’ A loud clang reverberated off the hull. ‘They’re
shooting at us!’ he said. ‘Step on it, Tashar!’

‘Wait!’ said India, shouting over the din. ‘What about Rat? He hasn’t come back in yet.’

Bulldog jumped from his seat and hauled open the main door, leaning out into the cold air as the rig began to pick up speed. The tiny figure of Rat loped along behind with arms outstretched,
falling behind with every step as the guards accelerated towards him in an open truck.

‘Tashar!’ yelled Bulldog. ‘Turn us around now.’ The rig swerved and clipped a small maintenance shed, which immediately disintegrated, scattering wood splinters and
equipment in their wake.

‘We can’t turn back!’ yelled Tashar over her shoulder. ‘We’ll be overrun in a second. We have to leave him behind!’

‘Damn it, Tashar,’ Bulldog roared, ‘if you don’t turn this rig around now . . .’

He got no further. There was a blur of motion and he was pushed aside as a tall figure leaped through the doorway into the night.

‘Calc!’ shouted India.

The android rolled on the hard ground and started running towards the flagging boy. In a single movement he scooped up Rat and turned back towards the rig, legs pounding the ground like pistons.
He drew level with the rig and leaped for the door, catching the sill with one hand. Bulldog and India pulled Rat inside but as Calculus clung on, the rusted steel frame of the door began to split
and buckle under his weight. India reached out into the void and grasped the android’s wrist with both hands as he dangled above the thundering caterpillar tracks a few feet away.

‘No, India,’ he said, ‘I am too heavy for you.’

Her answer was to plant her feet either side of the door frame and grip him tighter. She cried out, afraid she would be dragged out of the door by his immense weight. Then Bulldog was there too,
pulling hard and, in the next moment, Calculus had gained a handhold and hauled himself back inside.

Bulldog barely had time to jam the door shut before they ploughed through the steel gates of the rig yard. There was a screeching of metal on metal and they were all hurled violently around the
little mess room.

The rig picked up a burst of speed and accelerated down a wide forest track. Tashar turned on the forward beams and steered expertly into a tree-lined valley, where she throttled back. The noise
of the engine dropped to a tolerable level.

Bulldog sat in the centre of the room in a puddle of red gravy and potatoes, clutching the trembling Rat. India nursed her arms, which felt as though they had been nearly torn from their
sockets.

‘That was really very foolish, India,’ said Calculus, wiping goulash from his visor. ‘If I had fallen you would have been dragged to your death.’

‘Well, you’re welcome,’ she said huffily.

The android sighed. ‘I know you meant well, India. But I am quite used to being regarded as expendable.’

‘Not by me. You’re the last of your kind, remember? That makes you special.’

He looked at her for several seconds. ‘In that case, thank you for saving my life.’

‘That’s OK,’ she said. ‘I guess it makes us even now.’

Bulldog clapped the android on the back. ‘Not bad, metal man,’ he said, ‘not bad at all.’ Then he slipped back into the captain’s chair. ‘All right! If
everyone is finally on board, let’s put some serious distance between us and the Company before they realize what just happened!’

Sid the Kid clenched and unclenched his fists as he considered the wide swathe of damage left by
The Beautiful Game.
Silas and Cripps stood behind him, pleased that,
for once, they were not the object of Sid’s anger.

‘So are you saying, not one damn Company rig gave chase to these pirates, Commander? Ain’t that what my pa pays you for?’

The Commander, a lean and hard man made tough from thirty years of working in the wilderness, was afraid of no one. Nevertheless, something in this boy’s eyes reminded him of a starving
wolf he had once encountered out on the tundra. ‘With respect,’ he said, ‘all of our vessels are being overhauled in preparation for departure tomorrow. The specific orders of your
father,
sir.’

Sid bared his teeth. ‘You
lie
!’ He pulled the pistol from his belt and took a step forwards. The Commander stiffened slightly but stood his ground.

‘Don’t take my word for it. Why don’t you ask him yourself?’ He nodded to a neat-looking man who was carefully carrying a wooden box as though it was filled with fine
china.

Sid frowned and his two sidekicks crowded closer to get a better look.

‘Whad’s daht?’ said Cripps, staring at the box. He had two black eyes and a wad of cotton wool stuffed up each nostril. There was a thick white sticking plaster strapped across
the bridge of his nose.

‘It’s a portable Teslagraph,’ said the Commander. ‘One of Dr Cirenkov’s discoveries. The Director had the foresight to install them in all of the Company rigs so he
can stay in touch with his fleet.’

The man opened the lid to reveal a delicate pair of headphones and an ivory dial with fine black markings. He made subtle movements of the dial, as though tuning a musical instrument. The box
crackled and made a sound like the sea rushing over gravel.

Sid squinted suspiciously at it. ‘What’s this? My pa wouldn’t waste his time on that dumb contraption.’

The Director’s voice rang out from the hissing box. ‘Damn your stupidity, boy! You wouldn’t recognize a useful piece of technology if it bit you in the backside! Now, tell me
how a band of half-witted pirates managed to escape from my own rig yard.’

Silas and Cripps clutched each other at the sound of Stone’s voice, as if he might materialize from the box at any moment.

Sid flushed red with the shame of being chastised in front of his men. ‘S’not my fault, Pa.’ He stooped to speak into a metal grille on the front of the box. ‘This
dumb-wit Commander was too busy taking his rig to pieces to chase them. D’you want me to shoot him, Pa?’

‘I know where the fault lies, boy!’ came the voice. ‘It was you that let ’em slip through your hands. There are times I think I should have drowned you at
birth!’

‘It weren’t my f-fault, Pa. That’s not f-fair!’

‘Fair don’t come into it, boy,’ roared Stone. ‘You’re a waste of space and always will be. Fortunately I have other ways to find that pirate rig. Now you stay put
until I get there. If you want to do something useful, see what you can find out about
The Beautiful Game,
who they spoke to, their regular stopovers, anything useful. D’you
hear?’

‘Yes, Pa.’

‘Good, I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished my business in Angel Town. Please resist the urge to shoot anyone until I get there.’

The voice clicked off and the static hiss returned. Sid thought he caught a faint smile on the face of the Commander. ‘What’re you finding so funny? My pa said I can’t shoot
you tonight, but there’s always tomorrow Now why don’t you go and put your rig back together so it’s ready for my pa when he gets here?’

The Commander clicked his heels smartly, then walked off into the night air while Sid returned to staring at the broken fence and the darkness beyond. He clutched the butt of his gun until his
knuckles whitened. A vein in his temple throbbed painfully. It was at times like this that he felt his anger was a wild animal that might consume him and that if he gave into it, the part of him
that was Sid might disappear and never come back again. Fighting to control his breathing, he slowly relaxed his grip on the gun. Soon he became aware that Cripps was still hovering at his
shoulder.

‘What is it?’

‘Ethcuse me, sir,’ honked Cripps, ‘bud dere’s a man here do see you. Says he’s god information, bud he only wants to gib id do you.’

‘Get rid of him. I don’t have time for this.’ Then he paused. His pa had told him to see what he could find out about
The Beautiful Game.
If there was even a small
chance this man knew something useful then he should probably check his story. ‘All right. I’ll give him five minutes.’

The man looked tired and unwashed and wore several days of beard growth. He had a strange moustache that appeared to be crooked. And despite his new-looking cold-weather gear, he shivered
continuously and kept his hood up. Sid guessed he wasn’t used to Arctic weather.

‘Good of you to see me, young sir!’ he said as Sid approached. ‘I know that you are a busy man but you won’t regret it.’ He rubbed his forehead nervously.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m suffering a little with the weather. I wonder, would you have a glass of something warming available?’

Sid nodded to Cripps, who produced a small flask.

The stranger drank thirstily. ‘Splendid.’ He offered the flask to Sid. ‘The restorative effects of a small glass of spirit. That’s what keeps us men of the Arctic going,
eh?’

‘I don’t drink,’ said Sid. ‘It brings the blood to the skin and gives you hypothermia. Now, tell me what you want.’