Mallon waited, crouched behind the revetment.
"It's safe now, is it?" he grated. I nodded. He stood, gripping his gun.
"Now we'll try it together."
I went over the parapet, Mallon following with his gun ready. The
lights followed us to the Bolo. Mallon clambered up to the open port,
looked around inside, then dropped back down beside me. He looked
excited now.
"That does it, Jackson! I've waited a long time for this. Now I've got
all the _Mana_ there is!"
"Take a look at the cable on my ankle," I said softly. He narrowed his
eyes, stepped back, gun aimed, darted a glance at the cable looped to
the chain.
"I cut it, Toby. I was alone in the Bolo with the cable cut--and I
didn't fire. I could have taken your toy and set up in business for
myself, but I didn't."
"What's that supposed to buy you?" Mallon rasped.
"As you said--we need each other. That cut cable proves you can trust
me."
Mallon smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "Safe, were you? Come here." I
walked along with him to the back of the Bolo. A heavy copper wire hung
across the rear of the machine, trailing off into the grass in both
directions.
"I'd have burned you at the first move. Even with the cable cut, the
armored cover would have carried the full load right into the cockpit
with you. But don't be nervous. I've got other jobs for you." He jabbed
the gun muzzle hard into my chest, pushing me back. "Now get moving,"
he snarled. "And don't ever threaten the Baron again."
"The years have done more than shrivel your face, Toby," I said.
"They've cracked your brain."
He laughed, a short bark. "You could be right. What's sane and what
isn't? I've got a vision in my mind--and I'll make it come true. If
that's insanity, it's better than what the mob has."
Back at the parapet, Mallon turned to me. "I've had this campaign
planned in detail for years, Jackson. Everything's ready. We move
out in half an hour--before any traitors have time to take word to
my enemies. Pig Eye and Dunger will keep you from being lonely while
I'm away. When I get back--Well, maybe you're right about working
together." He gestured and my whiskery friend and his sidekick loomed
up. "Watch him," he said.
"Genghis Khan is on the march, eh?" I said, "With nothing between you
and the goodies but a five-hundred ton Bolo...."
"The Lesser Troll...." He raised his hands and made crushing motions,
like a man crumbling dry earth. "I'll trample it under my treads."
"You're confused, Toby. The Bolo has treads. You just have a couple of
fallen arches."
"It's the same. I am the Great Troll." He showed me his teeth and
walked away.
* * * * *
I moved along between Dunger and Pig Eye, towards the lights of the
garage.
"The back entrance again," I said. "Anyone would think you were ashamed
of me."
"You need more training, hah?" Dunger rasped. "Hold him, Pig Eye." He
unhooked his club and swung it loosely in his hand, glancing around. We
were near the trees by the drive. There was no one in sight except the
crews near the Bolo and a group by the front of the palace. Pig Eye
gave my arm a twist and shifted his grip to his old favorite strangle
hold. I was hoping he would.
Dunger whipped the club up, and I grabbed Pig Eye's arm with both hands
and leaned forward like a Japanese admiral reporting to the Emperor.
Pig Eye went up and over just in time to catch Dunger's club across the
back. They went down together. I went for the club, but Whiskers was
faster than he looked. He rolled clear, got to his knees, and laid it
across my left arm, just below the shoulder.