So while the others were loading the boat and making ready to leave, Nico slowly came to the conclusion that it was best for Don Carlo and Frans to know where they were going, even if the others didn’t think so. That was why he retrieved one of the discarded implants and put it in his pocket.
He meant no harm.
THEY WENT BY RIVER AT FIRST, JANA’ATA AND HUMANS CROWDED INTO the cargo hold, their Runa conspirators topside, calling out greetings to sodden barge passengers and crew as their wakes crossed. The powerboat’s batteries were as silent as sail and its passengers almost as quiet, even when there was no one to hear them. One human or another would think of some objection to what he had been told, and would say what was on his mind, and have his doubts assuaged. The VaN’Jarri, too, would venture a question now and then, but the one most eaten by desire to know about the foreigners was also the one most frightened of Sandoz, who had barely spoken since agreeing to go as far as Inbrokar City with them. So Rukuei kept quiet as well.
Not wanting to compromise their safe houses by duplicating their route south, they left the river behind on their second day. Tiyat and Kajpin let the others off near a cave a few cha’ari short of the Tolal bridgehead, and then went on alone, returning the powerboat to the livery, where Tiyat made a show of disputing the damage done to the hull when they’d run the boat aground. Finally Kajpin waved the extra charge off and said expansively, "It’s only money! Pay the woman—we’ll make it up on that rakar deal." Which led to comfortable small talk about the new rakar plantations, and then to amiable farewells, called loudly over the pounding rain as Tiyat and Kajpin moved off toward town.
"It’s only money," Tiyat echoed irritably, as they stopped in the Tolal market district and spent their last few bahli on salt.
"Don’t worry," Kajpin told her when they were out of earshot, heading out of town on a road that went northeast. "We can jump a caravan next season!" When they were sure no one was behind them, they veered overland and doubled back toward the south at a trot.
Reunited at the cave without further incident, the party left roads and rivers behind and traveled instead through an endless rolling landscape. Stopping periodically to listen and watch and stand nose to the wind, the VaN’Jarri became increasingly confident that they’d escaped detection. Indeed, there was little left in this monstrous, lovely, depopulated land that bore the imprint of mortal mind or hand. For hours, walking without haste but without rest, they saw nothing but low-growing clumps of lavender-leaved plants with bell-shaped blooms that nodded on wiry stems, battered by rain as warm as blood, and heard nothing but the drumming of rain and the squelching of footsteps, and the lilt of Nico’s singing.
"You don’t mind?" Sandoz asked the Runa as they walked. "Someone could ask Nico to stop singing."
"I don’t mind," Kajpin said.
"It’s not as beautiful as Isaac’s music," said Tiyat, "but it’s nice."
The foreigners carried communications gear, and answered periodic status calls from the Giordano Bruno with laconic reports that sounded bored.
"It’s rainin’here like the third ring of hell," Sean said once. "What’s the weather look like for tomorrow?"
"Clearing up," Frans told him.
"Thank God for that," was the heartfelt reply. And Sean closed the connection.
THEIR SLEEP WAS BROKEN EARLY NOT BY THUNDER BUT BY THE RADIO transponder’s whistle, clear and musical in the scrubbed morning air. It was Frans Vanderhelst, hailing anyone from the Giordano Bruno. Sean answered, yawning, and heard Frans say, "Is everything okay down there?"
"Shit, yes," Sean answered irritably. He nodded agreement as Joseba, bleary-eyed, leaned over to put the transmission on conference so everyone could listen to both sides of the conversation.
"We’ve lost live traces from three of the four GPS implants. What’s going on?"
That brought them fully awake. They had expected questions about the implants eventually, but not this one. "Three of the four?" Sean looked at his companions and saw the story on Nico’s face, rosy in the cloudless dawn. Joseba moaned and put his head in his hands. The VaN’Jarri roused as well and began to ask questions, but Sandoz hissed a warning as Sean raised a hand for silence.
"We have three GPS signals at the rendezvous showing no movement for three days," Carlo was saying. "There’s another one two hundred and forty kilometers northeast of the site. Are you all right?"
"Yes! We’re fine, dammit, except y’woke us all up! Can we talk later? I was havin’ a very fine dream—"
"So what’s going on with the implants?" John cut in. "Why can’t Sofia’s escort find you guys? They said the campsite smells of blood. For a minute there, we thought you were dead and eaten! We just talked to Sofia and she’s convinced Emilio’s been kidnapped by renegade Jana’ata-she’s ready to come after you with an army! What’s going on?"
Kajpin’s ears folded back at the word "army," and the other VaN’Jarri began to show signs of stress. Sean yawned theatrically, and looked around with large, desperate eyes while sputtering, "Christ! Is that you now, Candotti? One question at a time! We’re fine, I tell you! The blood was—" Sandoz, struggling to get a brace on, glared a warning at him. "Hang on, now. Sandoz wants to speak to you," Sean said, and handed the transceiver to him with some relief.
"John, this is Emilio. Tell Sofia she watched too many old Westerns with me," Sandoz suggested with a very nice imitation of amusement. "We don’t need the U.S. Cavalry riding to the rescue! Wait—have Frans put me through, yes? I’ll talk to her directly."
They all waited, tense and silent, as Sandoz walked a little distance away and stood with his back to them. Even so, they could hear his side of the conversation clearly in the still morning air. "Mendes? No, listen to me! We’re all right—. Oh, God. Don’t cry, Sofia! I’m fine. Truly…. Yes. Everything is fine…. Calm down, okay?" He looked at the others and winced, shaking his head slightly: never tell a woman to calm down. "No, Sofia, listen! That was just a froyil that Joseba shot! Yes—we barbecued it! I decided we should move camp so the blood wouldn’t put the escort off. We’re not far away."
"Relative to Earth," Joseba muttered.
"I don’t know what to tell you about that signal north of the rendezvous site," Emilio said then.
"Not one lie so far," Sean whispered, impressed.
"Maybe the implants are defective?" Sandoz suggested, pacing now. "Or the software’s no good?" A pause. "Well, it doesn’t matter, because we’re fine, okay? Listen, Mendes, we were up kind of late last night and everybody’s pretty tired, so we’d like to get a little more rest before we—. Sure! Yes, have them wait right there for us! That’s perfect!" he cried, standing still, eyes wide with relief. "You, too. Go back to bed—. Then have breakfast!" he said, smiling now. "Are you all right? Sure? Don’t worry about us! We’ll be in touch."
"Christ," Sean breathed as Sandoz returned to their circle and sank to the ground. "Remind me never to play poker with you again."
BACK ON THE SHIP, DANNY SHRUGGED. "D. W. YARBROUGH ALWAYS SAID Sofia Mendes could think too damned quick for her own good."
But Frans Vanderhelst was looking at Carlo. "There’s nothing wrong with those implants."
"Oh, yeah?" said John. "Look at the screen."
The fourth trace had just gone dead.