QuinnAH,
Stepan Izmaylova’s sycophant – possibly disciple – peeked around DaneelAH,
AzAH, and MishAH at HanAH and said, “Have a nice trip. We’ll meet you at Port
Exit.” He started walking back into the warehouse. HanAH didn’t follow him.
The
other three did, turning their backs on him.
HanAH
glared, looked into the distance, cursed and follow them inside. He started
when the boy stepped next to him from the shadows. “Following the herd, eh?”
“Shut
up and move.” HanAH was certain he heard the boy snicker and raised his hand
threateningly.
DaneelAH
stopped as AzAH and MishAH kept on. He said in a low voice, “Hating him is like
hating ourselves. He’s more like you than any of the rest of us.”
“What?”
HanAH exclaimed. His blurt echoed from the distant walls of the warehouse. “I’m
nothing…”
DaneelAH
shook his head and walked away, leaving HanAH to stare after the group. For an
instant, HanAH considered making his own way out of Burroughs, wondered how his
vat mates could possibly survive without him and lengthened his stride. “I’m
nothing like that brat,” he muttered, at the same time wondering at the
weakness of his rebuttal.
They
headed to the rear of the warehouse again, but instead of taking the stairs up,
the boy led them into what had once been an office. At the back of it was
another door, unconcealed and obvious. “Obviously a trap,” muttered HanAH.
QuinnAH
shot him a look, eyes appreciative even though he smirked. Instead of the door,
the jumped and slapped the wall near the ceiling. With the grinding of stone on
stone, a door in the wall, at the base where the floor met it, lifted up while
the floor itself sank down and to one side. “The mouth leads to the throat.
There’s only one way to go – it’s too narrow to turn around in. It’ll bring you
out in the HOD.”
“The
‘hood’?” AzAH said.
“HOD
– the Home Owner’s District. It’s where Martians can own their own places. They
can afford it while most everyone else can’t.” He stepped back. “Just keep
going…”
“Why
do we trust you?” said HanAH suddenly.
QuinnAH
shook his head, smirking, “I sure wouldn’t trust me, so I know what you mean.”
HanAH
glanced down the hole, then dropped down. “Let’s go.”
DaneelAH
frowned, “We’re going?”
HanAH
looked up at him. “If he’d made a smart aleck comment; if he’d said anything
else but what he did, we’d be taking our chances with the riot.” As if to
emphasize the point, the volume of the mob increased.
“I’ll
lead you,” said QuinnAH suddenly.
“What?”
said HanAH, AzAH, and MishAH at the same time.
DaneelAH
smirked this time then said, “These two have been playing on each other. Quinn
had not intention of sending us on our way alone, but he needed to know we’re
not ‘the bad guys’. Han had no intention of leading us, but he needed to know
if Quinn was legitimate. The kid knows how to get us to Exit Port and get back
here fast and invisibly.”
The
two – young and old – laughed, then Quinn said, “Let’s go. The mob’s almost
here.”
“What
about Stepan?” DaneelAH said.
“Like
I said, he’s a big boy. If he can’t talk the crazies down from a suicidal riot,
then he ain’t who he says he is. Fact? He don’t serve this god he’s talkin’
about – it’s as ‘maginary as U-fee.” He slithered into the hole.
HanAh
gestured to AzAH, then DaneelAH, then MishAH. He looked up to the roof. He
couldn’t see Stepan, but knew he was watching. He whispered, “Good luck…” he
snorted, changing his invocation, “Your God protect you and go with you, Sir.” He
followed the others. A moment later, the wall door and the floor hatch closed.
There was a puff of air, and the dust they’d disturbed was evenly sprayed over
the exit, and it was gone.
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