* * * * *
I was just heaving the saddle up on Ninc when I felt a hand on my
shoulder and I was swung around.
"Well, well. Horst, look who we have here," he called. It was the one
who'd made the joke about me being beneath the notice of a Losel. He
was alone with me now, but with that call the others would be up fast.
I brought the saddle around as hard as I could and then up, and he
went down. He started to get up again, so I dropped the saddle on him
and reached inside my jacket for my gun. Somebody grabbed me then from
behind and pinned my arms to my side.
I opened my mouth to scream--I have a good scream--but a rough smelly
hand clamped down over it before I had a chance to get more than a
lungful of air. I bit down hard--5000 lbs. psi, I'm told--but he
didn't let me go. I started to kick, but Horst jerked me off my feet
and dragged me off.
When we were behind the pen and out of earshot of the fire, he stopped
dragging me and dropped me in a heap. "Make any noise," he said, "and
I'll hurt you."
That was a silly way to put it, but somehow it said more than if he'd
threatened to break my arm or my head. It left him a latitude of things
to do if he pleased. He examined his hand. There was enough moonlight
for that. "I ought to club you anyway," he said.
The one I'd dropped the saddle on came up then. The others were putting
the animals in the pen. He started to kick me, but Horst stopped him.
"No," he said. "Look through the kid's gear, bring the horse and what
we can use."
The other one didn't move. "Get going, Jack," Horst said in a menacing
tone and they stood toe to toe for a long moment before Jack finally
backed down. It seemed to me that Horst wasn't so much objecting to me
being kicked, but was rather establishing who did the kicking in his
bunch.
But I wasn't done yet. I was scared, but I still had the pistol under
my jacket.
Horst turned back to me and I said, "You can't do this and get away
with it."
He said, "Look, boy. You may not know it, but you be in a lot of
trouble. So don't give me a hard time."
He still thought I was a boy. It was not time to correct him, but I
didn't like to see the point go unchallenged. It was unflattering.
"The courts won't let you get away with this," I said. I'd passed
a courthouse in the town with a carved motto over the doors: EQUAL
JUSTICE UNDER THE LAW or TRUTH OUR SHIELD AND JUSTICE OUR SWORD or
something stuffy like that.
He laughed, not a phony, villian-type laugh, but a real laugh, so I
knew I'd goofed.
"Boy, boy. Don't talk about the courts. I be doing you a favor. I be
taking what I can use of your gear, but I be letting you go. You go to
court and they'll take everything and lock you up besides. I be leaving
you your freedom."
"Why would they be doing that?" I asked. I slipped my hand under my
jacket.
"Every time you open your mouth you shout that you be off one of the
Ships," Horst said. "That be enough. They already have one of you brats
in jail in Forton."
I was about to bring my gun out when up came Jack leading Ninc, with
all my stuff loaded on. I mentally thanked him.
He said, "The kid's got some good equipment. But I can't make out what
this be for." He held out my pickup signal.
Horst looked at it, then handed it back. "Throw it away," he said.
I leveled my gun at them--Hell on Wheels strikes again! I said, "Hand
that over to me."
Horst made a disgusted sound.
"Don't make any noise," I said, "or you'll fry. Now hand it over."
I stowed it away, then paused with one hand on the leather horn of the
saddle. "What's the name of the kid in jail in Forton."
"I can't remember," he said. "But it be coming to me. Hold on."
I waited. Then suddenly my arm was hit a numbing blow from behind
and the gun went flying. Jack pounced after it and Horst said, "Good
enough," to the others who'd come up behind me.