The Tribes, Chapter 21

Amber plonked a bowl of oatmeal onto the table in front of Jack and slid into the chair across from him. Jack, a dripping spoonful of Shredded Wheat halfway to his mouth, blinked at the oatmeal blankly.

“What’s that?”

“It’s oatmeal,” Amber said evenly. “It just happens to be your favorite breakfast – which I happen to have made especially for every day this week and which you’ve ignored every day this week.”

“I didn’t know you had oatmeal,” Jack said absently.

“Of course you didn’t,” Amber said evenly. “You’ve been eating whatever cereal was handy on one of the tables. You’re eating Shredded Wheat today and you don’t even like Shredded Wheat.”

Jack examined the spoonful of soggy cereal hovering halfway to his mouth as if seeing it for the first time. “Huh – I didn’t even notice.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Amber said. “Your mind has been off in the clouds somewhere. The only time you ignore oatmeal is when you’re worrying about something. So, what is it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Jack, what’s got your mind so preoccupied that you ignore your favorite breakfast food, wander around the ship and Market in a fog. What’s up?”

“Oh, probably nothing,” Jack hedged.

“Jack if you’re worried, then it’s not nothing. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t help wondering if I was right about Cat,” Jack said.

“He’s been here over a month, and he’s done everything he could to prove he’s turned over a new leaf,” Amber said. “Hell, he’s given a lot of the loot he brought with him to other people in the Market to help them get started out trading for themselves.”

“I know, I know,” Jack said. “That’s what bothers me so much. All the evidence points to the fact that he really has changed his ways … it’s just that…”

“Just what, Jack?”

“Last week I recognized a couple of Ned’s old crew hanging around,” Jack said. “And, Cat met with them.”

“That doesn’t prove anything, Jack,” Amber pointed out. “Maybe they were just trading for supplies. You know we don’t turn anyone away from the Market … at least, we try not to.”

“I know,” Jack admitted. “And, they could have been trying to get him to rejoin them and he turned them down.”

“Exactly,” Amber agreed. “So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know!” Jack said. “And, that’s the problem – it might be nothing but some stupid paranoia in my head. But, then again, maybe it’s not.”

“Have you talked to Cat?”

“No!” Jack cried, looking horrified at the thought. “I mean, what if he really is trying to be a new person and I start asking questions like I didn’t trust him? That’s a great way to hurt his feelings … it’s the last thing I’d want to do.” Absently, Jack pulled the oatmeal bowl closer and began spooning the hot cereal into his mouth.

Amber watched as Jack’s face went blank with thought again. He had that faraway look that indicated he was deep in thought. She couldn’t understand how Jack could sink so deep into thought that he was in a trance-like state and still manage to do mundane things like eat. It was almost like Jack had an autopilot function in his brain that let him operate on a rudimentary physical level. Finished with the bowl of oatmeal, Jack thoughtfully licked the spoon clean and suddenly returned to the present.

“I guess the only thing we can do is give Cat the benefit of the doubt,” Jack said. “I mean, if he’s going to be a member of our Tribe, we have to trust him until he gives us a real reason not to. If we can’t do that, we’re no better than Tribes like The Locos or even The Brotherhood.” He pushed the empty bowl away from him and smiled. “That was good. Thanks.”

“Good?” Amber asked. “That oatmeal must have been almost stone cold, Jack.”

“Yeah, it was,” he admitted. “It was still good, but I meant being able to talk – that was really good.”

“You did most of the talking,” Amber pointed out.

“Maybe, but you said the things I needed to hear,” Jack countered.

For his part, Cat was feeling guilty about his meeting with Bingo and Snake Eyes. The two former members of Ned’s slaver team had stopped by the Market to see how Cat was adjusting to his new, and in their eyes, mundane lifestyle. They had been amazed to discover that Cat seemed really happy as a trader of goods rather than a trader of flesh. It didn’t take long before the two slavers realized that they weren’t likely to lure Cat away from his new home.

Bingo admitted that running a slaver team – especially one so short-handed as theirs – was much harder than they had expected. Since taking over after Ned’s death, Bingo and Snake Eyes had picked up three new slavers – teens who were tough, but not too smart. Cat half-listened absently to their tales of woe, kind of surprised that he really didn’t have any desire to be out on the road anymore. He turned his full attention back to what they were saying when Bingo mentioned The Brotherhood.

“What about The Brotherhood,” Cat asked.

“I just said we ran across lots of signs of recent Brotherhood activity to the East,” Bingo said.

“What kind of activity?”

“Well, raids on Tribes and things like that,” Bingo replied.

“Like what kinda things?” Cat demanded.

Snake Eyes laughed. “You know what they’re like when they find caches of food and supplies,” he chuckled. “They’re like locusts – they strip the place clean and what they can’t carry off, they smash.”

“Uh huh,” Cat grunted. “An’ how many slaves didja pick up from them places?”

“Just a couple,” Snake Eyes shrugged. “You’d think it would be the strong ones who managed to escape those raids. But, it never is – the scrawny, weakly ones always seem to be the ones left behind.”

“Where’s them slaves now?” Cat demanded. “We unloaded ‘em outside The City.”

“Get ‘em back,” Cat ordered, his voice taking on the dangerous edge that made the two slavers nervous. “Bring ‘em here and I’ll pay yas for yer troubles.” Cat hated the idea of buying slaves now, but he comforted himself with the thought that he’d actually be buying their freedom. Then, another thought struck him. “An’ bring me one of them robed freaks an’ I’ll make it worth yer while.”

“I don’t know,” Bingo said, slyly. “That’s a tall order … it’s going to cost quite a bit.”

“Jus’ do it,” Cat growled, his good eye flashing dangerously. “Bring me one o’ them red robed Brothers if ya can. But, any o’ ‘em will do fine. Yeah, and keep yer eyes and ears open. I wanna know what them assholes is getting’ up to.”

“Sure, sure,” Snake Eyes said placatingly. “No problem.” He and Bingo stood to leave.

Cat rose and flexed his muscles. “One more thing – yas don’t return fast, or try to do a runner on me and I’ll hunt yas down. That’s a promise. There ain’t no place yas can go where I can’t find yer.”

“Okay, okay,” Bingo said nervously. “Give us about a week or so. We’ve never let you down before.”

Bingo and Snake Eyes had been gone a week and Cat had taken to watching the road from the bridge of the ship as much as possible for their return. As he waited, he indulged in fantasies of what he’d do to each of them if it turned out that they had run out on him. He absently flexed his hands, imagining how easily his powerful hands could snap each and every bone in their bodies. Maybe he’d start by wrapping his huge hands around their ball sacs and squeezing until the testicles inside were nothing but goo. That would certainly get their attention.

Cat rubbed a beefy hand across his mouth, wondering whether he should tell Bray or someone about what he was doing. He didn’t like the idea of keeping secrets from them – the Shiprats had been pretty good to him so far. Everyone had gone out of their way to make him and Kim feel welcome. He shook his head. He’d wait until he learned something – no sense getting everyone worried just because he had some vague suspicions.

Cat decided to scan the horizon once more before returning to his stall to help Kim. He’d been neglecting his duties too much over the past few days. Suddenly, he stiffened as he saw the top of Ned’s old slave wagon trundle into view. Forgetting his thoughts of mayhem for the moment, Cat hurried from the bridge to meet his former comrades.

By the time Cat got out to the Market, Kim and Dal were angrily confronting Bingo who had two slaves in chains by his side. Seeing Cat approach, Dal turned on him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dal demanded. “The Shiprats don’t trade in slaves!”

Cat ignored him, glaring instead at Bingo. “What’re they doin’ in chains?” He demanded. “Get them things off right now!”

“Okay, okay don’t get in a huff,” Bingo said smoothly. “Just following our normal protocol. No harm intended. I’ll get the chains off as soon as we discuss my fees.” Cat clenched his fists and took a menacing step in Bingo’s direction. “We can talk fees later, I trust you,” he said quickly as he produced a key and hurriedly went about unlocking the padlocks on the chains.

Cat pulled the two slaves away from Bingo, as he spoke over his shoulder to Kim. “Get these poor bastards sumptin to drink, wouldja?” He turned to face the two slaves and tried to compose his scarred face into the friendliest expression he could muster. “Look, yas ain’t slaves no more – I jus’ wanna talk with yas, after that yer free. Now, go along with Kim and he’ll getja some food – all yas can eat. Go on now, ain’t no one here gonna hurt yas.”

Kim wasn’t sure what was going on, but he trusted Cat enough to believe that whatever the big ex-slaver was doing had a good purpose. Cat watched the three head off to the table area where the food vendors were located.

“Look, I know I pro’bly done things the wrong way,” Cat said turning to Dal. “But, I think them two might have some information we should know about.”

Dal felt terrible. He should have let Cat explain before jumping to conclusions. “Hey, it’s my mistake,” he said. “I should have waited for you to explain what was up. I hope you can forgive me for speaking out of turn like I did.”

Cat was stunned. No one had ever apologized like that before. He felt good inside and waved off Dal’s apology. “No problems, man. I shoulda told someone what was up, it’s just I didn’t know what was goin’ on. Still don’t, to tell ya the truth.”

“Look, I don’t want to rain on this love fest you got going on,” Bingo said. “But, we still have to discuss our fees.”

“I promised ya’d get paid and ya will,” Cat snapped. “I ain’t never cheated nobody and I sure ain’t gonna start now.”

“Good, and about that other package,” Bingo said. “We got that, too. I’ll take you to it – I figured you’d want some time alone – if you know what I mean.”

Cat turned to Dal. “Look, I agree ya got no reason to trust me, but ya gotta,” he said. “If what this knucklehead tol’ me last week is true, I figger there’s stuff happenin’ that yas all should know about. This is sumptin I gotta do my own way.”

“Look, you haven’t given any of us any reason not to trust you,” Dal said. “I’m not sure I understand what’s going on here, but if you say it’s important, we’re going to trust you.” As the words came out of his mouth, Dal wasn’t quite sure that he was doing the right thing. However, the look of pride on Cat’s face quickly convinced him that he had done the right thing.

Cat quickly outlined what Bingo and Snake Eyes had told him the week before and his suspicions that something was up with The Brotherhood that the Tribes in The City should know about. He guided Dal down to the table where the two former slaves were busy wolfing down the food Kim had provided. They looked up nervously at the big teen’s approach.

“Look, I ain’t got a lotta time,” Cat said. “So here’s the deal … you guys tell the folks here everything about what happened to yer Tribe and what The Brotherhood done back where yas come from. If yas wanna stay here, that’s cool. But, if yas wanna go back to where yas come from, that’s cool, too. I’ll personally get yas kitted out with the stuff yer gonna need to get back there.” He looked down at the shocked former slaves helplessly. “Uh, look … there’s sumptin I gotta do now. So, jus’ eat up and relax and we’ll talk later.”

Cat spun on his heel and stalked off, gesturing for Bingo to lead the way to where Snake Eyes was waiting.

Dal watched Cat disappear with Bingo before turning to the two newcomers and giving them his biggest and friendliest smile. “I know he looks kind of scary,” he said, tilting his head in Cat’s direction. “But he’s really a good guy. I’m Dal, by the way,” he smiled again. “Keep eating, we can make introductions later. When you’re done there, I can take you aboard and you guys can get a hot shower and some clean clothes.”

Cat followed Bingo, only half listening to his tale of how difficult and dangerous it had been for the new slave team to capture a member of The Brotherhood. Cat knew part of the reason behind Bingo’s jabbering was to drive his fee higher. He also knew Bingo was frightened of pissing off the big ex-slaver. He could have put Bingo’s mind at ease, but he decided not to – it suited his needs to have the slaver afraid of him for now.

Cat was surprised when Bingo led him to headquarters of the decimated Tribe Circus. In the month since Top Hat’s harebrained scheme to ally his Tribe with the Brotherhood, the remaining Tribe Circus members had been trying to regroup and rebuild their Tribe.

“Figgerin’ on getting’ paid twice?” Cat asked.

Bingo had the good graces to blush at being found out. “Well, I figure what’s left of Tribe Circus might have a score to settle, so I might as take advantage of that. Besides, I figured you’d need some place to question the prisoner.”

“Yah – you done a lot of figgerin’ I see,” Cat grunted. “Pretty smart move, though. Yas might just make a go of it on yer own.”

Bingo felt a swell of pride at Cat’s unexpected praise. “Um, now I know you said you wanted one of the red robed Brothers,” Bingo said a little nervously. “But, we just couldn’t find any of them around.”

“So?”

“So, we got you the next best thing,” Bingo said, opening the door to the warehouse. “He’s one of the Brotherhood scouts. That’s just as good, huh?”

“We’ll see,” Cat grunted.

Entering the warehouse, Cat saw the figure in green robes tied to a post in the center of the main performing ring. The clowns from Tribe Circus were ringed around the prisoner, taunting him. Glancing around, Cat noticed the three new slavers were lounging lazily in the bleachers. He paused and openly studied the three. Two of them looked away as if embarrassed when they noticed Cat staring at them. That wasn’t a good sign, they should have returned his stare. The third, a tall lanky teen with a tall bright yellow Mohawk didn’t exactly return Cat’s gaze as much as he glared back contemptuously. Again, that wasn’t such a good sign. The slaver should have maintained a neutral look and met Cat’s gaze squarely, but not issuing a challenge, either.

“Look, I should charge ya fer a consultin’ fee, but I’m gonna give ya this advice free,” Cat said to Bingo. “Them new guys yas got needs to learn a lot. Them two lookin’ away should be lookin’ at me instead o’ away. Now, that third ’un – the first thing ya gotta do is get rid o’ that bright yalla ‘hawk. Too flashy and hard to hide in an ambush.”

“Yeah, yeah, I see what you mean,” Bingo said, staring at his new teammates. “Now, he’s meetin’ my stare and that’s almost good, but he starin’ back like he wanna tangle – that ain’t good. Jus’ sumptin fer ya to think about.” Cat turned his attention back to the prisoner. “Now, let’s see what Dickhead has to tell me.”

“He’s a surly one,” Bingo said. “He’s been threatening us with what The Leader’s going to do when he catches us.”

Cat snorted. “Oh really?” He grinned. “Sounds like he needs a attitude ‘justment.” Cat strode into the ring and jerked his thumb towards the bleachers. “You clowns take a break, I gotta talk to this creep.”

The clowns took a moment to engage in a stare down with Cat. He grinned back at them, letting them know that he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. One by one, the clowns nodded and moved away to give Cat his chance with the green-robed Brother.

Cat took up a stance directly in front of the prisoner and took in the green robes; the emerald dyed hair, and stylized Phoenix tattoo on the Brother’s forehead. The prisoner was about a head taller than Cat, but Cat was almost twice as wide and clearly more powerfully built. He wasn’t in the least surprised to find the prisoner staring back at him defiantly. The Brothers clearly thought they were the big men in the world now and this one was no exception.

“You are like going to be so sorry when The Leader gets his hands on you, dude,” the prisoner snarled.

“Oh, rilly,” Cat tossed imaginary bangs out of his face, mimicking the Brother’s vocal pattern. “So, you got a name?”

“Fuck you,” the prisoner snarled.

Cat put a pained expression on his face and turned to Bingo. “You stoopid jerk!” Cat bellowed. “I tol’ ya I didn’ want no peons and that’s what ya brung me! This fucker don’t mean nuttin’ to nobody in the Brotherhood – it ain’t even worth sendin’ a ransom message back to them.”

“Hey Cat, I’m sorry man,” Bingo shouted back, playing along. “It’s just all those Brothers look alike – it’s hard to tell who’s important and who’s just a shit carrier.”

Cat stared at the prisoner again. “Well, looks like you snatched up a shit carrier.”

“Shows how much you know,” the prisoner sneered. “I’m Deputy Chief of the Seekers – that means when you’re caught, Chief Enforcer Gull will personally see to your punishment.”

“Ooooo, we got us a deppity here, boys,” Cat sneered. “He thinks he’s sumptin’ important.” He shoved his face close to the prisoner’s. “Around here, ya ain’t shit. Now, I don’ feel like screwin’ around, so let’s get down to business. What’s goin’ on with the Brotherhood? I been hearin’ ‘bout a lot of activity recently and I wanna know what’s up.”

“Fuck you,” the prisoner sneered. “When the Brotherhood gets here, you’ll find out first hand.”

“Okay, okay,” Cat said in a suddenly reasonable voice. “No one can say I didn’ try the nice way first off.” He turned to face the crowd in the bleachers. “Yas all seen it – ain’t nobody what can say I didn’ try to be nice, right?”

“Right, Cat,” Bingo called out.

“Hey, I saw it ... how hard you tried,” Pongo, the head clown shouted out. “Man, you went way out of your way to be nice.”

Cat turned and brought down his booted foot on the prisoner’s foot, grinding his heel as he did. “Well, seein’ how that failed, it’s time to get nasty.”

Cat strode over to the bleachers and quickly explained what he wanted. Pongo began nodding as he listened. He had a score to settle with the Brotherhood and Cat seemed like the perfect tool for settling that score. Pongo’s brother had been one of the acrobats who accompanied Top Hat, and Gisela, his lover, also never returned from that trip. As soon as Cat finished talking, Pongo took over barking out orders for the remaining performers to get everything set up exactly as Cat described.

While the performers were busy putting everything together as Cat and Pongo had ordered, Cat carefully removed his leather jerkin and carefully stripped his shirt off, exposing his well-muscled and well-scarred torso. The two new slavers who had looked away from Cat’s gaze now stared at him in open amazement that bordered on admiration. The punk with the yellow Mohawk, however, openly sneered.

“Looks like you came out on the losing end of a lot of fights,” he said disdainfully.

“Take it easy, Toad,” Snake Eyes warned.

“No problem,” Cat said. He turned to Toad and smiled genially as he traced his finger along a wide scar that ran from the right side of his collarbone down to just under his left nipple. “Sumptin’ ya need to learn early one, Toad. If yer gonna get into a real fight, yer gonna walk away with scars. That’s jus’ a fact o’ life. Another fact is that it’s the winner what walks away with the scars – the loser don’t walk away from the fight. That’s the business yer in, so ya better get used to it now.”

“Yeah, well I’ve been in fights and I’ve never been cut,” Toad sneered. “So I guess we know who’s the better man here.”

“Oh shit,” Snake Eyes groaned softly seeing the color drain from Cat’s face.

“Sounds like the Toad is feeling a bit froggy,” Cat said his voice soft and low. Bingo and Snake Eyes knew that tone meant danger. “Lessee whatja got,” Cat said invitingly. “That’s if ya got the balls to back up yer words.”

Smiling lazily, Toad climbed down from the bleachers and languidly circled Cat once before taking up a martial arts stance. His arms moved fluidly as they wove an intricate pattern in the air.

“Looks like he knows just enough to get himself fucked up,” Bingo whispered to Snake Eyes.

“Looks ain’t deceiving,” Snake Eyes whispered back. “What’re we gonna do with when Cat’s finished?”

“Lock a collar around his neck,” Bingo said simply.

He watched as Toad made several feints in Cat’s direction. None of the feints had the slightest effect on Cat’s bored-with-it-all expression. Suddenly, Toad pulled his leg back to deliver a snap kick that would surely disable Cat if the big ex-slaver let it connect. As Toad’s leg snapped out, Cat easily caught it with both of his powerful hands and held tight. In the same instant, Cat’s right leg lashed out, his steel-toed boot catching Toad squarely in the groin. Everyone in the bleachers instinctively groaned in sympathy and unconsciously clutched at their own groins.

Dropping Toad’s leg, Cat hands moved lightning fast to grab his opponent’s head and savagely pull it down to meet his knee. Toad’s nose burst like a ripe tomato, fountaining blood down the front of his dirty white T-shirt. Cat released his grip, letting Toad fall flat on his ass. He lay there for a moment, his hands raised protectively in front of his face as he sobbed and then tried to scrabble away.

Cat casually reached behind his back and produced a wicked-looking Bowie knife, causing Toad to give a high-pitched shriek like a girl. Bending over, Cat caught Toad and easily flipped him over onto his belly before ripping the slaver’s pants right off of him. Cat’s knife flashed once and then again as he slashed a large X across Toad’s exposed ass cheeks. Toad’s shriek rose in pitch until it became an ear-piercing wail.

“Oh, that’s gotta hurt,” Snake Eyes observed with no sympathy.

Cat stood and contemptuously wiped Toad’s blood from his knife. “There, now you got a scar o’ yer own. Course, I don’t think yer gonna brag much about how ya got it.” He sheathed his knife and looked down at Toad, not even breathing hard. “Consider yerself lucky I didn’t cut yer balls off.”

Snake Eyes nudged the other two new slavers. “Get a dressing on his ass, then chain him up,” he ordered. “Add him to the slaves in the wagon. He’s worthless as a slaver, maybe he’ll do better as a slave.”

Pongo coughed from behind Cat to get his attention. “Um, excuse me … hate to bother you when you’re teaching someone a lesson,” Pongo said, his voice wavering slightly. “I think we’ve got everything set up like you wanted.”

Cat nodded silently and followed the clown into the middle of the center ring. An evil grin that made all of the Tribe Circus members shiver spread across his face as he approached. Two heavy butcher-block tables had been moved into the center ring and placed end to end just as Cat had instructed. A smaller butcher-block table stood slightly off to one side. A dingy white cloth covered the items on the smaller table. Lifting the cloth, Cat studied the equipment and nodded in grim satisfaction.

“We got the pulleys rigged just like you said,” Pongo said, eager to keep the big ex-slaver happy. “Um, look – I know you have an ax to grind with The Brotherhood, but so do I.”

“Yer point?” Cat grunted.

“I want to help,” Pongo stammered. “My brother and Gisela never came back from the meeting with The Leader.”

“So ya want revenge?” Cat said staring hard at the clown. “Okay, guess ya got as much right to getting’ some revenge as anyone.” He jerked his head in the direction of the captive. “Let’s get that green-haired asshole strapped down on the table, here.”

As the ropes binding him to the pole were removed, Stalker’s assistant tried to spring free to defend himself and effect an escape. Even had Cat not grabbed the prisoner’s throat in a stranglehold, the Tribe Circus members quickly swarmed over their captive and helped to drag him over to the butcher tables where he was quickly and smoothly tied firmly down spread-eagled.

“Get that robe stripped off him,” Cat ordered.

Pongo and his Tribemates went to work ripping and cutting the Brother’s green robes from him. In minutes, the prisoner was totally naked on the table. Cat whistled in surprise and called attention to the prisoner’s shaven crotch and armpits.

“Looks like ya saved us some trouble,” Cat teased. He experimentally ran his finger over the prisoner’s denuded groin. “Smooth as silk. Are all o’yas shaved smooth like this or are you some special boy to yer boss?”

The prisoner’s expression became haughty. “Smooth bodies are easier to keep clean,” he retorted as if Cat and the others should have automatically known that. “Clean bodies are the first step to a clean mind and a clean mind leads to a clean soul The Leader says.”

“Yeah, right,” Cat snorted. “Don’t matter how clean ya keeps yer outside – with the kinda stuff yas have done, yer mind and soul are still fouled up.” He shrugged off that idea and patted the prisoner’s stomach. “Now, I don’ really like titles – I like usin’ names. I asked ya once before and I’m askin’ once nicely once more. What’s yer name?”

“I told you – go fuck yourself,” the prisoner spat with more courage than he was really feeling.

Cat shrugged genially. “Suit yerself.” He leaned down conspiratorially. “I gotta tell ya, I was hopin’ that’s how ya wuz gonna answer.” He straightened and called over his shoulder. “Bring me that hammer and two o’ them nails.”

“W-wh-what’re you going to do?” Stalker’s deputy stammered.

“Well, some o’ what I got planned fer ya is likely to get ya squirmin’ a bit,” Cat explained. “I figger if I nail yer hands to the table, it’ll keep ya from squirmin’ too much.”

“You’re not serious!”

“As a fuckin’ heart attack,” Cat said happily as Pongo came up to the table with a large claw hammer and two huge nails in his hands. “Now, Pongo watch close – I’ll do his right hand and you do the other one. If ya does it right, ya won’t break the bones in his hand.”

The prisoner twisted his head around to see Cat was actually serious about nailing his hands to the table. He began screaming as he watched Cat carefully place one of the nails in the palm of his hand and begin moving it around until he found the spot he was searching for.

“Okay, okay,” the prisoner screamed in terror. “My name’s Ozzie, it’s Ozzie! Put that fucking hammer down.”

“Too late,” Cat muttered absently. “I asked ya twice and ya didn’ tell me. Now, ya gotta pay the price. Ya needs to remember that next time I ask ya a question.”

Ozzie felt the tip of the nail against his palm as Cat pressed it down. He began screaming before Cat even brought the hammer down for the first blow. His scream rose several octaves as the blow drove the nail through his hand. Ozzie couldn’t remember ever enduring such intense pain as Cat calmly brought the hammer down again and again, driving the nail deep into the wood of the butcher-block table. He was sobbing and begging Pongo not to nail his other hand down. Pongo acted as if he were deaf as he lined up the large nail and raised the hammer high over head before bringing it down.

Ozzie’s back arched as the second nail pierced his hand. The sound of the hammer hitting the nail had been accompanied by the unmistakable sound of bones breaking.

“Ah, ya let the nail slip,” Cat said professorially. “Oh well, nuttin’ ya can do about it now. Go ahead and finish drivin’ the nail home.” Each hammer blow sent white-hot jolts of pain that shot through Ozzie’s hand and down his forearm.

Cat’s face appeared directly in front of Ozzie’s. “Now, ya knows we’re serious, right? So, how about we make this easy and ya just answer my questions?”

Ozzie was tempted to agree to tell Cat everything he might know – he was almost willing to do anything to avoid more of the kind of pain he’d already experienced. He wondered if Gull’s victims felt the same way when they disappeared into his dungeon. But, the thought of Gull and what tortures he might inflict were enough to keep Ozzie from agreeing to cooperate.

“I can’t,” Ozzie sobbed. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore … I can’t answer any questions. You have no idea what would happen to me!”

“Ya have no idea what is gonna happen to ya if ya don’t answer me,” Cat promised. “If ya think ya been hurt already, ya got another think comin’. That was nuttin’, I promise ya that.”

Ozzie’s only response was to wail helplessly. He really believed that The Brotherhood was hunting for him and would burst into the warehouse at any moment. If Gull discovered that he’d cooperated with the kidnappers, the Enforcer would make him pay dearly for the betrayal.

Another one of the clowns appeared from the dark shadows of the warehouse with leather bands in his hand. “I finished making the cuffs, exactly like you wanted,” he announced, handing the cuffs to Cat. “I even double riveted them to reinforce them.”

Cat examined the thick leather cuffs. They were good quality. He tested the D-rings attached to each cuff and nodded. They’d hold with no problems. “Good work,” he said. “Buckle them around his ankles.”

“And as soon as you have them in place, get the ropes run through the rings,” Pongo added. “Set them up just like you would for raising the braces for the tight ropes and trapezes.”

Ozzie raised his head as far as he could to see what was going on, but the Tribe Circus performers blocked his view as they worked. Suddenly, the ropes around his legs were released and Pongo shouted out an order for the lines attached to the ankle cuffs to be pulled tight. Ozzie screamed as his legs were pulled apart so wide that he thought his legs were about to be pulled from their sockets. Cramps assailed his legs and hips almost instantly. Pongo checked the ropes before giving the order to tie them off.

“Good job, Pongo,” Cat called. “With his legs spread wide like that, we have more room to work.”

“W-work? What do you mean … work?” Ozzie cried out.

“Yer gonna see soon enough,” Cat said. “Don’ wanna spoil the surprise.”

Ozzie felt Pongo’s hands between his legs and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He didn’t want to even imagine what the clown was going between his legs. He knew what Gull did and the thought made him feel sick to his stomach. Suddenly, he heard a soft zipping sound and something constricted around his scrotum.

“Not too tight, not too tight,” Cat warned. “Don’ wanna kill his balls, Pongo – just make him more aware o’ them.”

“Please, please don’t cut off my balls,” Ozzie begged. “Don’t castrate me.”

“Castrate you?” Cat sounded genuinely surprised at the suggestion. “Nah, we ain’t gonna cut yer balls off. Fact is, we heard people what comes across The Brotherhood do have a tendency to lose their balls, so we’re gonna make sure yers don’t go nowhere.” Cat turned to Pongo. “No, not them … those others, they’ll do a better job.”

Once more, Ozzie began blubbering as he begged not to be hurt further. He became totally hysterical when he saw Pongo standing next to the table with two small hammers and a box of carpet tacks in his hands.

“Ya see,” Cat explained, “the skin on his nut sac is pretty thin … these tacks is all ya need to nail it down. ‘Sides, ya can fit more o’ these around his nut sac than ya can the big nails.”

Ozzie’s curses were almost drowned out by the steady tapping of the two hammers as Cat and Pongo tacked the prisoner’s scrotum to the wooden table. Only his high-pitched screams covered the sound of the hammers. As he worked, Cat repeatedly asked Ozzie to tell them everything he knew about The Brotherhood’s plans. Even the fresh pain each tack brought to his tortured groin, Ozzie’s fear of Gull was enough to keep him from answering the big teen’s questions. He still hung on to the fading hope that the warehouse doors would be smashed down at any minute to reveal Gull’s Enforcers coming to his rescue. As the tapping of the hammers continued, Ozzie had begun cursing Gull for not rescuing him.

“There,” Pongo said proudly, “there’s no chance of his scrotum going anywhere.”

“Ya got that right,” Cat agreed. “But, them balls is still floatin’ loose in there.” He picked up a large nail. “I figger one o’ these through each ball will keep ‘em in place.”

The sight of the huge nail was enough to break Ozzie’s fear of Gull. Nothing the Chief Enforcer could possibly do was worse than what Cat was planning for him. He began repeating everything Stalker had ever told him and everything he remembered hearing at the last meeting with The Leader. He blabbered on and on, interrupted from time to time by Cat with specific questions. Ozzie racked his terrified brain to make sure he didn’t leave anything out – he even told Cat about how Beta had tried to convince others to overthrow The Leader. He described how The Leader had magically called down the wrath of the Phoenix to punish Beta. He must have spoken for a little over an hour when he finally stopped.

“Yer sure The Leader is targetin’ the Shiprats?” Cat asked.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Ozzie blubbed. “He’s going to use their ship as his new headquarters and then take over the rest of The City.”

“When?”

“First he wants a new army raised,” Ozzie said, his words coming out in a torrent. “He says he wants to have at least a thousand soldiers to take The City.”

Cat thoughtfully rubbed his hand over his mouth, thinking hard on the news he’d just heard. He knew the prisoner wasn’t lying. He was too shit scared of what might happen if he was found out.

“You’re not going to – to…”

“Nail yer balls to the table?” Cat finished. “Nah, you finally told us what we needed to know. Ya coulda saved yerself some pain, but ya came through in the end.” Cat turned to Pongo. “Okay, he’s all yers.”

Cat moved back to the bleachers and watched in grim amusement as Pongo oversaw his Tribe as they erected a wooden scaffold about seven feet high between Ozzie’s legs. Cat recognized the structure as a small-version of a guillotine at about the same time Ozzie did. He screamed, cursed, and writhed as two of the clowns fitted the evil-looking blade in place.

“You promised … you promised you weren’t going to castrate me!” Ozzie screamed in terrified rage.

“We’re not,” Pongo said reasonably. “A promise is a promise.” He moved to the head of the table and began gently stroking Ozzie’s emerald hair. “Everything is going to be in your hands … well, not literally,” he said, glancing at Ozzie’s hands still nailed to the table. He took the blade lanyard from one of his Tribemates and showed Ozzie the rubber bit. “Now, this goes between your teeth and it will keep the blade from falling. All you have to do is hold onto it for an hour – just sixty minutes.”

“I can’t … I can’t,” Ozzie wailed.

“You’d better,” Pongo said, pushing the rubber bit between Ozzie’s teeth and forcing his jaw shut. “Now, hold on tight.” Pongo looked over at one of the female Tribe members. “Start the hourglass now, Dana.”

Dana obligingly turned a large hourglass over with a flourish and gestured at the sand that began steadily falling into the lower half as Pongo went over to sit next to Cat. “This was one of Top Hat’s ideas – very popular with the crowds, I must say.”

“So, tell me, has anyone ever lasted the whole hour?” Cat asked.

“Surprisingly, yes there were al couple who left the table with their balls intact,” Pongo admitted. “Of course, most of them didn’t last.”

Pongo proved to be a good host by ordering some sandwiches and drinks brought up while everyone watched as Ozzie struggled to keep the thick rubber bit between his teeth. “Normally, there’s a lot of betting going on about how long the subject will last,” Pongo explained. He pointed at the hourglass. “See how the glass is marked? That’s so the bettors can figure out about how much time has passed.”

Cat nodded, never taking his eyes off Ozzie’s face. Sweat ran in rivulets down the prisoner’s face, soaking his buzzed emerald green hair and pooling on the table around him. The cords stood out with exertion in Ozzie’s neck as he strained to keep the thick rubber between his teeth. His eyes were wide and staring, with tears running freely from them. Small, animal-like sounds escaped from deep in his throat as he struggled to last the hour.

After about fifteen minutes, Pongo leaned closer to Cat while keeping his eyes on the scene playing out before him. “He’s making the mistake almost everyone makes,” the clown explained. “He’s straining too much to keep his grip on the bit … that’s tiring him out. He’ll never last the whole hour.”

Cat nodded, he had noticed that, too. Ozzie’s whole body was already trembling with all of the strain he was exerting. The whimpering sounds Ozzie was making were becoming more frantic as his jaw tired. If he’d only try to relax a little bit, he wouldn’t be tiring himself out so much, Cat thought. He glanced over at the hourglass and decided it would be a miracle if Ozzie passed the half-hour mark.

Suddenly, the blade slipped slightly. Ozzie made the ultimate mistake of trying to change his grip on the bit and lost it entirely. He screamed in dismay as the blade dropped, hitting the table with a solid thunk. Ozzie screamed and writhed against his bonds, crying hysterically at his loss.

“So what’re you going to do with him?” Pongo asked, tilting his head in Ozzie’s direction.

“He’s yer problem,” Cat answered indifferently. “Keep him, cut him loose, send him back to The Leader fer all I care.” He hauled himself to his feet. “I got the information I want from him – now, he’s all yers.”

Snake Eyes stopped Cat outside the warehouse. “You going back to that ship?”

“Yeah, yeah I am,” Cat nodded. “I got a new life there and like it.”

“I was, well – I was kinda hoping you might want to hang with us,” Snake Eyes suggested.

“Thanks – if I wanted to stay in the biz, I’d be more’n happy to join yer crew,” Cat said. “But, that don’ interest me no more.”

“You’re really happy now?” Snake Eyes asked in genuine surprise.

“Sure am,” Cat admitted. “There’s sumptin’ satusfyin’ seein’ a smile on someone’s face, ‘stead of a look o’ fear when ya finishes a deal.” He shrugged. “Go figger – I’da never thought it could be true, but it is.”

“The offer stands in case you ever change your mind,” Snake Eyes said. “And, I’ll try to keep an ear open for any news that might interest you. I hear anything and I’ll make sure it gets to you.”

“Cool,” Cat smiled. “An’ if ya ever decides to quit the biz, I’ll put in a good word fer ya with the Shiprats. It’s the best I can do.” He thrust his hand out.

Snake Eyes grinned back and took Cat’s hand. “That’s all I can ask. Give Kim my best and keep well.”

On board the Queen Mary, Jack was startled by the dramatic change in the two newcomers Cat’s slaver friend had delivered. After Cat had left, the two newcomers had been given the chance to rest for a while and get cleaned up. Salene had cheerfully taken charge of showing them around and getting them some clean clothes. Even though Jack and Bray were eager to question the two newcomers – Jack didn’t even know their names – they both knew it was important to let the strangers relax a bit after the ordeals they must have endured.

To keep his mind busy, Jack retreated to his workshop and began tinkering with some calculations to see if he could increase the efficiency of the methane production project. He was lost in his work when Dal touched his shoulder causing Jack to jump in fright.

“I knocked a couple of times and even called out,” Dal said apologetically.

“It’s okay,” Jack said, giggling a little self-consciously at his reaction. “I was lost in some work. What’s up?”

“Bray’s with those two newcomers up in the lounge,” Dal explained. “He wanted to know if you wanted to join us.”

Jack jumped up from his desk, his work forgotten for the time being and dashed from the room. Shaking his head in amusement at his friend’s usual reaction, Dal hurried to catch up with Jack. Entering the lounge, Jack was startled at the dramatic change in the two newcomers. Both were now clean – their skin several shades paler than it had been when he first saw them. Both were sporting fresh haircuts and clean clothes – Salene had really done a great job cleaning them up.

Bray stood and made introductions. The newcomer with the dark brown hair and deep blue eyes was named Jesse, and the other one with strawberry blond hair and brown eyes was named Michael. Before, the two of them had been kind of shaggy and now, they both sported crewcuts with bumpers. Jack wondered absently whether the haircut choice was a personal one or whether it had Tribe significance where they came from.

Jack sank into an overstuffed chair and gratefully accepted a steaming mug of coffee from Amber. He looked around quizzically, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Bray explained again that the two newcomers were welcome to stay aboard the ship or return to where they originally came from.

Jesse shook his head sadly. “No way – there’s nothing left there anymore,” he said absently rubbing his freshly shorn head as if he enjoyed the feel. Of the two new arrivals, Jesse was the more slender of the two of them and easily at least a head taller than Jack was.

Jack found himself wondering what it would feel like to run his hand over Jesse’s head. His hair looked so thick and soft. He shook his head to clear his mind and leaned forward. “Why do you say there’s nothing there anymore?” Jack asked.

Jesse began rubbing his head even more. Jack straightened slightly – Jesse wasn’t rubbing his head because his liked the feel, he was rubbing his head the way some little kits hugged their security blankets. Jesse was scared and the haircut was a subconscious reminder of better and safer times for him. His face softened as he leaned forward.

“Somebody came to where you lived and something bad happened,” Jack said gently.

Jesse’s eyes watered and he looked away, rubbing his head even harder. He began to rock slightly back and forth.

“The Brotherhood raided their town,” Cat said flatly from behind Jack. His voice startled everyone. “They either took everyone prisoner or killed ‘em,” Cat continued. “They raided all the supply caches and what they couldn’t take or use, they burned.” Jack twisted around in his chair in surprise as the big ex-slaver crossed the room and knelt next to Jesse. He laid a reassuring hand on the teen’s shoulder. “And ‘cause they missed ya and yer friend you think yer guilty o’ something bad.”

“We hid,” Jesse said in a small frightened voice. Jack noticed that Michael had drawn his knees up to his chin as if trying to curl into a ball. “We hid,” he repeated, “while they dragged people out into the street and chained them up. And then … then, they began doing things …” his voice trailed off.

“And because ya didn’t do anything to stop The Brotherhood, you’re think yer partly to blame fer what happened,” Cat continued, his voice surprisingly gentle and low for someone so big. Jesse bit his lip and just nodded, the tears flowing freely. Cat abruptly and violently grabbed Jesse by the shoulders and thrust his face at the teen. “That’s BULLSHIT!” Cat bellowed startling everyone in the room again. “Yas coulda done sumptin’ if yas fuckin’ wanted to!”

Jesse surprised everyone in the room by slapping Cat as hard as he could, his face a mask of rage. “What do you know about it? There’s nothing we could have done – there were hundreds of them all over the place!”

“’At’s right – there weren’t nuttin’ yas could do,” Cat agreed, still shouting. “So, stop blamin’ yerself an’ start blamin’ The Brotherhood. Get pissed, real pissed – but, get pissed at the right people. Get pissed at the ones who done all the bad shit and stop blamin’ yerselfs.” Cat rubbed his cheek where Jesse had hit him. He grinned and lowered his voice. “An’ next time ya hits someone – use yer fist instead o’ yer open hand. It’ll do more damage – ya got a helluva wallop there.”

“I don’t know that I agree with your methods,” Amber said slowly. “But, they seem to have worked okay.”

Cat rubbed his beefy hand across his mouth. “I figgered the sooner they stopped blamin’ themselfs the better off they’d be,” Cat said.

“Like a shock treatment,” Amber said.

“Yeah … kinda,” Cat agreed. “There wasn’t nuttin’ these guys coulda done,” Cat explained. “They was up against about three hunnert Brotherhood soldiers. They’s lucky they managed to hide out and escape.” Cat looked down on Jesse and Michael. “Yas done the right thing. Yas really did.”

“How can you be so sure there were over three hundred soldiers?” Bray asked.

Cat explained about how Snake Eyes had stopped by to give him news and had reported on the evidence of Brotherhood raids. He told everything – he told how he had asked Snake Eyes to try to find some eyewitnesses to bring back to the ship. He admitted that he hadn’t thought about Snake Eyes treating the survivors as slaves and apologized for that error in judgment. Then he described how he had ordered Snake Eyes to find a Brotherhood prisoner for questioning.

“Is that where you were today?” Bray asked.

“Yeah,” Cat acknowledged. “That’s ‘bout the only thing Snake Eyes got right. He brought back someone who had access to the inner circle.”

“Why didn’t you have him brought here to be questioned?” Amber asked?

Cat’s face went red and he looked down at his feet as if there was something interesting about his shoes. He nervously rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Well … ah, well … the truth is yas are all too nice and I figgered yas wouldn’t be able to get much information outta him,” Cat admitted. “I don’t think yas would be willin’ to use the kind of necessary persuasions to make this guy talk. I don’ have no problem with that.” He looked around the room. “I ain’t sorry fer what I did, I gotta say that up front. But, I’m sorry if it bothers yas and after I tell yas everything I learned, I’ll take off if that’s what yas want.”

“Who said anything about wanting you to leave the Tribe?” Jack asked.

“I jus’ figgered …”

“You figured wrong,” Bray said firmly. He looked around the room. “I don’t agree with how Cat did things, but I think – no, I know – he had good intentions. And, he’s right – we probably wouldn’t have been able to get any information out of a Brotherhood prisoner – at least not one who’s had access to the inner circle. Anyone that high up has to be pretty fanatical.” He turned to face Cat. “That doesn’t mean I want you to keep going off and finding prisoners and torturing them.”

Cat smiled in relief. “I unnerstand.”

“So, let’s hear what you learned,” Bray said.

Cat repeated everything Ozzie had revealed – especially The Leader’s plans to target the Shiprat Tribe specifically and use the Queen Mary as his new headquarters. By the time Cat had finished sharing his information, any resentment about how he had obtained his information had been forgotten.

“You’re sure this Ozzie said that The Leader is going to wait until he has a thousand Brothers?” Amber asked.

“Yeah,” Cat nodded. “He was sure ‘bout the number. Ozzie said The Leader figgered that with a thousand soldiers, none o’ the Tribes in The City would resist him – and he was sure that with that many soldiers, none o’ them would help the Shiprats out.”

“Well,” Ryan spoke up for the first time, “raising and training an army that big is going to take him a long time.”

“It might take him a while to raise an army that big,” Jack said thoughtfully. “But, with his methods, it won’t take him long to train them. For one thing, the training will be ongoing the whole time he’s forcing people into his army.”

“There’s more,” Cat said. “Seems everything ain’t all roses in among the Brothers – leastways, they weren’t.”

“What do you mean?” Amber asked.

“The number two, a fella called Beta tried to get the inner council to overthrow The Leader,” Cat explained. “Accordin’ to what Ozzie said, Beta didn’ like it when The Leader started makin’ out like he was some kinda god or sumptin’.”

“Can’t say that surprises me,” Heather said. “We’ve pretty much known all along that he was a nutcase.”

“What happened to Beta?” Bray asked.

“He got turned over to this guy named Gull,” Cat explained. “From the way it sounds, he’s really the number two guy. He’s the one what does all the torture and stuff and answers only to The Leader. Strange thing is, it sounds like The Leader really does have some kinda magical power.”

“What do you mean?” Amber asked.

“Well, Ozzie described how The Leader conjured fire and burned Beta to a cinder.”

“Impossible,” Bray said.

Cat shrugged. “I’m jus’ tellin’ ya what Ozzie said,” Cat explained. “He believed it, too.”

“I still can’t believe that,” Bray insisted.

“I don’t know,” Jack said thoughtfully. “Cat, did Ozzie say whether this Beta was tied to a stake or something?”

“Yeah, he did as a matter o’ fact,” Cat nodded. “Said The Leader was gonna have Gull set a torch to this huge pile o’ wood and changed his mind. Accordin’ to Ozzie, he claimed The Leader said only the Phoenix – whatever that’s s’posed to be – could bring the judgement of fire on one o’ the inner circle and then – POOF! The guy burst into flames.”

“I thought so,” Jack said. “I can think of a couple of ways to create that illusion – and that’s what it was – an illusion. I’ll bet there was a pool of gasoline or some other flammable liquid hidden under the stacks of wood. Then, all you need is some kind of igniter.” Jack ran his fingers through his bright, orange-red hair. “But, I’ll bet the crowd bought it lock, stock, and barrel and think The Leader has some kind of magical powers now.”

“I can’t see that as being good for us,” Amber said. “If the Brotherhood thinks The Leader has some kind of divine protection or powers, they’ll be even more fanatical than they were before.”

Everyone in the room fell silent as they contemplated eventually having to face an even more fanatical Brotherhood than they had prepared themselves for. It wasn’t a pleasant thought for any of them – especially when they tried to imagine a thousand or more of the Brotherhood pouring into the parking lot outside the ship.

“That could work to our advantage,” Tai San said slowly. “The more The Leader’s followers believe that he has magical abilities or divine protection – or both – the more demoralized they’ll be when he eventually is overthrown.”

“Tai San’s right,” Lars agreed. “We can’t let their strengths overwhelm us and get us into a funk. We need to remember that they also have weaknesses that can be exploited.” He looked around serenely, a gentle smile on his placid face. “Remember the higher the pedestal, the farther the fall when it comes.” He looked around earnestly as if teaching a group of novices. “They believe that their strength is in their rigid adherence to the rules The Leader sets out for them. They also believe that we are weak because we are flexible.” He shook his shaven head. “They’re wrong. Their inflexibility will cause them to break at the time of greatest stress – it is their weakness.”

“And our strength is in our flexibility,” Tai San added.

“Kind of like the story about the mighty oak and the reed,” Amber said. “I understand.”

“Precisely,” Tai San nodded. “The oak appears strong, but when the most violent storm comes up, it breaks. The flexible reed, on the other hand, knows when to bend and survives the storm to spring back once it passes.”

“Tai San and Lars are right,” Bray said, suddenly perking up. “And, as far as magic is concerned – we have a couple of magicians of our own in Jack and Dal. And, I’ll bet their brand of magic is more than a match for the tricks of The Leader.”

Bray’s words transformed the mood of the room from gloom and despair to one of confident cheer. Everyone began listing the number of inventions and innovations the pair had come up with to make life bearable and more pleasurable. As far as the Shiprats were concerned, there wasn’t anything Jack and Dal couldn’t do if they put their minds to the task – they could even make miracles happen. Only Jack and Dal seemed to doubt that they could accomplish miracles.

Bray decided to break up the gathering on a happy note by pointing out that it was almost time to start preparing the evening meal. As everyone filed from the room, Bray motioned for Sasha, Amber, Jack, and Dal to stay behind.

“I’m not really comfortable with what Cat did,” Amber said as soon as they were alone.

“I’m not, either,” Bray said carefully. “But, I don’t know what else he could have done under the circumstances.” He sighed heavily. “Look, the fact is that we live in bad times and we have to accept that some bad things are going to happen. What’s more important is that now we have an idea of what The Leader has planned.”

“And it doesn’t look too good for us,” Dal said darkly. “I don’t even want to think about a thousand of the Brotherhood’s soldiers lined up out in the parking lot.”

Amber shuddered. “The very idea gives me the shudders,” she agreed.

“Then we don’t let them get that far,” Jack mumbled, his eyes glazed with a faraway look.

“What was that?” Bray asked, leaning forward to catch Jack’s words.

Jack didn’t even seem to hear Bray speak. He kept muttering to himself, oblivious to the others in the room. He shook his head from time to time as if discarding an idea. The other three knew Jack well enough to leave him alone as his mind raced along. Suddenly, Jack bounced to his feet and headed for the door without even looking back at his friends. By the time the other three had scrambled to their feet to follow, Jack was already at the end of the corridor and headed for the open deck. Bray and the others hurried to catch up before Jack disappeared. They reached the Promenade Deck just in time to see Jack entering the Bridge House.

Taking the steps to the bridge two at a time, Bray hurried onto the bridge only to find it empty. Joined by Amber and Dal, he crossed to the port side and found Jack on the bridge wing, staring absently into the parking lot. The other three took up places at the rail beside Jack and tried to see the parking lot as Jack was seeing it. Naturally, they didn’t succeed.

“We can’t let them get as far as the ship,” Jack said, turning to face his friends. “We don’t want to give them a chance to lay siege to the ship. We can’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” Amber asked. “Why couldn’t we simply stay in here and seal the ship up and wait them out?”

“Eventually we’d run out of food,” Jack said. “Besides, sooner or later the Brotherhood would destroy the water purification system and the methane processor. They’d trash the Market Place and destroy the vehicles.” He shook his head. “No, we certainly can’t let them get this far – and we especially can’t let them establish a siege out there. So, that means…”

“That means we have to stop them somewhere else,” Dal finished.

“But, where and how?” Amber asked. “You really can’t expect our little Tribe to stand up against an army of a thousand or even more!”

“Why not?” Jack asked. “Sure, it would take a bit of work, but the trick is not to confront them directly.” He turned to face the others; his eyes shining brightly and his words tumbling over each other as he grew more excited. “Lars was right – their strengths are also their weaknesses. One of their strengths is that they are so highly organized. Another is that they’re indoctrinated to follow orders. In most cases, those are good strengths…”

“But, that could also mean that they can easily become confused if their immediate leaders are either confused themselves, incapacitated or eliminated,” Bray said.

“Exactly,” Jack said. “We almost fell into one of The Leader’s traps by concentrating only on the size of his army. We’re not really going up against a thousand soldiers – if we do things right, the actual number is going to be much, much smaller.”

“How much smaller?” Amber asked.

Jack shrugged, grinning happily. “Dunno, but anything significantly less than a thousand gives us much better odds.” He began pacing the bridge wing as his mind shifted into overdrive.

“And what about this religious twist The Leader’s added to his bag of tricks? Won’t that make his followers even more fanatical?” Dal asked.

“Huh?” Jack paused in his pacing. “What? Oh, that – well, there’s always been a kind of religious overtone to the Brotherhood.”

“Actually, I’m kind of surprised it took The Leader this long to make a big deal of it,” Bray said. “But, Amber’s right – this new blatant religious-protection-from-on-high thing is bound to make his followers more zealous.”

“That’s true,” Jack admitted. “Like Tai San said before, that can work against The Leader as much as it can work for him.”

“I wonder if he’s thought of that,” Dal said.

“I don’t think he’s thought about it at all,” Jack said. “I think he probably is starting to actually believe it himself."

“You’re kidding!” Amber was incredulous.

“No, I think he’s going over the edge – and that could make him more dangerous,” Jack said. “Think about it – we know he’s recently had some setbacks. He’s had raids going wrong and defections and who knows what else. Would that kind of stuff happen if he had a direct line to God or the Phoenix or whatever he claims to represent? Of course not! The more he pushes this protection from above line, the more infallible he’s going to have to be and the fewer mistakes he can make.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Amber said, thinking through Jack’s reasoning. “But, we don’t know if or when he’s going to make another mistake. I don’t see how we can very well exploit that weakness.”

Dal began grinning slyly as he stared hard at Jack. “I think I know what Jack’s thinking,” Dal said slowly. “We don’t wait for The Leader to make a mistake. We find a way to set him up so that more mistakes are inevitable.”

“Precisely,” Jack said. “We’ve been going about this all wrong from the beginning,” he said, his words spilling over themselves. “I’ve been so stupid. We’ve been trying to keep a low profile and hoping he wouldn’t take notice of us. But, that was the wrong thing to do.”

“You’re not saying we should take the battle to him?” Amber cried.

“Of course,” Jack said excitedly. “We’ll stop playing by his rules and start using our own. We don’t have to wait for him to come to us – we take the fight to him. We can undermine the faith his Followers have in him and bring him down without placing our friends or ourselves in risk of serious danger.”

Jack’s enthusiasm and confidence was infectious. Within moments, everyone on the bridge wing were smiling and feeling as if a heavy burden had been lifted from them. They realized that Jack was right – the Brotherhood would lose confidence in The Leader if serious setbacks and mistakes suddenly plagued him.

“If I start getting organized right after supper, I can probably leave early in the morning to scout around,” Jack said.

Bray’s smile faded. “Whoa! Hold on there a minute,” he cried. “What the hell do you mean you can go scout around?”

“I mean, I have to see if I can find places where we can set some traps to undermine The Leader,” Jack said absently.

“No way,” Bray said flatly. “You can just get that idea out of your head, Jack. We’ll send someone else out to scout around.”

“That would be fine if we were just trying to get an idea of their location or strength,” Jack said, his voice rising slightly. “But, that’s not my goal. I need to find places that lend themselves to traps that can either slow or neutralize The Leader’s forces. Nobody else would know what to look for.”

“Then tell them what to look for!” Bray shouted.

“That’s the problem, I can’t!” Jack shouted back. “I don’t know what I’m looking for – it’s the kind of thing that I know when I see it, but not before.”

“Jack’s right,” Dal said. “He’s got to be the one to scout out those locations.”

“Okay, okay – fine, then I’m coming with you,” Bray said stubbornly.

“You can’t,” Jack said.

“He’s right again,” Amber said.

Bray’s face was pained as he turned on Amber in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Look, we’ve never had any kind of official election or anything,” Amber said. “But, the fact is that you’re the closest thing we have to an official leader. You have to stay here.” She turned to Dal. “And, Dal can’t go either for pretty much the same reason.”

“What do you mean?” Dal cried. “I’m not the leader.”

“No, but you’re the only other one who can keep the generators and the water purification system running smoothly,” Amber pointed out. “If something were to happen to Jack – not that I think it will,” she added hastily. “Then you have to be able to step in and keep things going.”

“I’ll go with Jack,” Sasha spoke up for the first time. “He has to have some kind of backup and company.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jack said.

Bray spent the rest of the afternoon grumbling and even pouting a little about Jack going out on his scouting mission. The thing that really bothered him was the fact that Jack and Amber were right – Jack was the only one capable of reconnoitering ambush areas. And, whether he liked it or not, he was the de facto leader of the Shiprats Tribe. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Jack gathered some clothes for the trip.

“How long are you going to be gone?” Bray asked.

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “I sure don’t want to be out there for too long, that’s for sure.” He packed some underwear into the small backpack and sat next to Bray. “I’m only taking five pairs of underpants, if that’s any indication.”

“So you’re going be back in five days?”

“That’s the max I plan to stay out,” Jack said. “We could be back before then, but we might be a little longer – it all depends on what we find.”

Bray grabbed a handful of Jack’s orange-red hair and pulled his head back and kissed him passionately. Releasing his grip on Jack’s hair, Bray took the small inventor in his arms in a tight bear hug. He had the irrational idea that if he held Jack tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to go away. Jack must have felt the same way because his return hug was equally as strong and desperate. The two of the fell back on the bed entwined in each other’s arms.

Jack rolled on top of Bray, and ripped Bray’s shirt open. Buttons flew in all directions as Jack pulled the shirt open and attacked Bray’s smooth chest. He licked, sucked, and bit each of Bray’s nipples in a frenzy of lust. The violence of Jack’s passion frightened Bray – it was almost as if Jack were afraid that this was the last time the two of them would be together.

Arching his back in a wrestling bridge, Bray rolled Jack off of him, dumping him onto the floor. He rolled over, joining Jack on the floor and took his diminutive lover in his arms and held him tightly. He soothingly stroked Jack’s hair and cooed reassuringly to him.

“Shhh, shhhhh,” Bray breathed into Jack’s ear. “It’s going to be okay.”

It took a few minutes before Jack relaxed and went limp in Bray’s arms. Bray tenderly removed Jack’s clothes and lifted his lover’s legs up over his own shoulders. The little Techie took a deep breath as Bray positioned himself and gently thrust his tool into Jack. He took his time, slowly thrusting his hips back and forth. Jack reached up and tenderly rubbed Bray’s bruised nipples. His face had lost the frantic, desperate look that had been there earlier.

“When you get back,” Bray gasped, “I’m going to do this to you all day long. Don’t even think about disappearing into your workshop.”

“Promise?”

“Oh yeah,” Bray smiled. “Forget about eating or doing anything else. You belong to me the minute you get back.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

The next morning as dawn was just beginning to lighten the horizon, Jack’s eyes were puffy and he moved woodenly around the two-seater go-cart, stowing his bag and other equipment. Sasha glanced from Jack to Bray with a knowing twinkle in his eyes and announced that he’d drive the first leg of their mission. He checked each of the tie down straps one last time before wandering over to Bray.

“I’ll try to be back in five days or less,” Jack promised, pressing himself tight against Bray.

“You’d better,” Bray whispered. “Or I’ll beat your ass.”

Jack wagged his eyebrows, a crooked and very lustful grin spreading across his face. “Promises, promises,” he teased.

“I know I don’t need to tell you to be careful,” Bray said, pulling Jack against him even tighter. “But, be careful.” He kissed Jack three times in quick succession.

Jack hesitantly backed away. “I, uh, I guess we’d better get moving,” he stammered, backing away.

Bray felt tears sting his eyes as he watched Jack climb into the go-cart. Sasha gunned the engine and pulled out with a wave. Bray stood in the parking lot watching them until he couldn’t see them anymore. Then, he turned and slowly made his way up the gangway to an early breakfast.

After breakfast, Bray kept busy by wandering down to the Marketplace and helping various vendors get their stalls and carts set up. It felt good to be doing something positive and kept his mind off of worrying about Jack and Sasha. He was helping Kim get the heavy shutters up when a concerned looking Ryan came up.

“We’ve got a problem,” Ryan said without even saying good morning. “Someone took one of the ATVs last night.”

“Are you sure?” Bray asked. “Maybe Sasha moved it thinking Jack would want to take those instead of the go-cart.”

“No, Sasha was the one who asked me to help him get an extra gas tank mounted,” Ryan said shaking his head.

“Um, excuse me,” Kim interrupted timidly. “I – ah, um – I know what happened to it.”

Both Bray and Ryan spun around in surprise. “What do you mean you know what happened to the ATV?” Bray demanded.

“Cat took it,” Kim said.

“Why? Nobody wanted him to leave the Tribe,” Bray said, getting frustrated at having another problem for him to worry about crop up. “I thought he understood that yesterday.”

“I was supposed to wait until noon to tell you,” Kim explained nervously. “Everyone knew about Jack and Sasha’s scouting trip.”

“Well yeah,” Ryan said. “It wasn’t a big secret or anything.”

“Well, Cat thought that someone else should shadow them to make sure nothing happened to them,” Kim said.

Bray noticed that the eunuch was trembling with fear. “Hey, hey – relax,” he said soothingly. “No one’s going to get pissed at you. Hell, I’m not even pissed with Cat.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “The fact is – I’m kind of relieved to know Cat is shadowing them. I mean, Jack and Sasha are resourceful and all, but Cat is better suited to going up against someone physically.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t he tell us?” Ryan asked.

Kim blushed and hung his head. “He was afraid that after what he did yesterday some of the Tribe might not be too keen to trust him,” Kim said.

“He did what he thought was best,” Bray said. “Some people might not agree with his methods, but nobody distrusts him.”

Ryan leaned closer to Kim and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “To tell you the truth,” he said glancing around conspiratorially, “I think I’d have done the same thing myself. As far as I’m concerned, Cat made the right call.”

“So how come we didn’t hear the ATV’s motor last night?” Bray asked.

Kim explained how he had helped Cat push the ATV from where it was parked, across the parking lot and up into the next street where they hid it out in an alley. Cat had camped out all night waiting for Jack and Sasha to pass. Kim assured Bray and Ryan that Cat was an expert at following without being seen unless he wanted to be.

The knowledge that someone as formidable as Cat was watching out over Jack brought Bray some peace of mind over the next few days. No matter how resourceful or brainy Jack and Sasha might be, he liked the idea of Cat’s brute force backing them up if the need arose.

On the afternoon of the fourth day after Jack and Sasha left on their reconnoitering mission, Bray was leaning against the stern rail talking with Lars about holding self-defense training for all of the Tribe. He was explaining his idea when the ship’s alarm bells began clanging.

“What’s that about?” Lars asked, looking around for the source of trouble.

Bray was scanning the parking lot, expecting to see one thousand of the Brotherhood swarming through the Market. Down in the parking lot, everyone had turned anxious faces to the ship as if expecting to see it suddenly sink or something.

“There!” Lars shouted over the din, pointing towards the Boat Deck.

Looking in the direction Lars was pointing, Bray saw Amber frantically signaling for them to come quickly. A cold feeling of dread formed in Bray’s stomach as he dashed across the decks to join Amber.

“There’s a message from Luke,” Amber shouted over the alarm bells when Bray reached her.

“What’s wrong?” Bray asked. “Are they under attack?”

Amber shook her head. “He wouldn’t say – he just said to get you and that it was an emergency…”

Bray didn’t bother waiting to hear what else she had to say. He sprinted down the boat deck to the Radio Shack where he found an ashen-faced Peter. “Turn those damn bells off,” Bray barked as he slid into the chair Peter had vacated when Bray entered. The silence that followed the clanging alarms seemed even more ominous as Bray lifted the handset that linked the ship directly to the farm.

“Bray here,” he shouted into the handset. “Has The Brotherhood…”

“Shut up, Bray,” Luke’s voice cut him off. “You’d better get out here as fast as you can. It’s Jack and…”

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Bray’s voice was strained.

“Sasha’s hurt bad,” Luke’s voice crackled over the line.

“And Jack? What about Jack?” Bray shrieked into the receiver.

“I think he’s dying,” Luke’s disembodied voice said flatly.

Bray didn’t hear anything else Luke was saying. He dropped the receiver and staggered back away from the desk, a panicked wail building deep in his gut. For several long moments he teetered on the edge of total hysteria, his fists pressed hard against his temples. Amber skidded into the Radio Shack to find Bray doubled over as if he had been physically hit in the gut, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Suddenly, Bray pulled himself together. He was trembling all over and tears were streaming down his face as he woodenly walked back to the phone and assured Luke that he was on his way to the farm.

“Bray what’s wrong?” Amber asked; frightened at the colorless tone his face had taken.

“Get Dal and Selene,” he gasped, sucking in huge mouthfuls of air to calm himself. “Tell them to get the emergency medical kits down to the ambulance now. They have five minutes,” he said. “And then I’m gone.” He looked helplessly at Amber and blurted, “Jack’s dying!”

to be continued…