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crackled like a Chinese holiday at first, but it was going to catch.
It would lave been easier to gather pika-ping than cut trees, but that tough
ground cover held far too much moisture to burn very well. It would have been
like trying to light a wet sponge.
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"You!" Walther began, having had about enough of this byplay. He was supposed
to be in control of the situation, but no one was acting like it. It made him
nervous. At first he listened to them all with puzzlement. Now he was mad.
"I'm going to blow your head off," he grinned at Septem-ber. "Drill a nice
little hole right through your skull."
September prodded the fire a little more, making sparks jump. He looked over
at the door, shifted the blaze with his foot so that it drew on the breeze
seeping in past the bent edges. Then he looked idly over at Walther.
"Not with that, you aren't."
"If you think you can bluff me ..." the kidnapper qua-vered.
"Dry up, runt. Crawl back in your hole. Can't you see I'm busy trying to keep
you alive?"
Walther shook. His eyes widened and he clenched his teeth. Isis finger tensed
on the hooked trigger.
"He's going to shoot you," said Colette calmly, "the poor sap."
There was a tiny flicker of green at the tip of the beamer. Then nothing.
Walther glanced at it in disbelief, pulled the trigger again. This time the
glow was hardly visible. On the third attempt, not even a hint of light came
from the barrel.
With a little gasp that might have been fear or anguish, he dropped the
useless weapon and scuttled back into the shadows, favoring his bad arm. The
wide, now frightened eyes never left
September. '
It was quiet for a few minutes. Then September stirred the fire again.
"Calm down, Walther. While I'd cheerfully wring your chicken-neck and toss you
next to your rigid compadre up forward, I've no intention of doing it just
now. I'm tired and cold. I might feel differently tomorrow, or the next day.
Fact is, I'd've done it earlier, but you're such a pitiable excuse for a man
it hardly seemed worth the exertion. So I only broke your arm. Now don't
bother me anymore."
He settled himself next to the door and concentrated on stuffing several
narrow strips of shredded seat-padding into the crack on the hinged side. The
other crack he left un-blocked, to circulate air both for them and the fire.
" Maybe we can keep a little of the wince out, anyhow," he muttered half to
himself.
Colette' was rummaging among the other food cartons. She pulled one out and
looked down at the label.
file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%20...20Dean%20-%20Icerigger%201%20
-%20Icerigger.txt (25 of 179) [1/16/03 7:07:11 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%20Alan%20Dean%20-%20Icerigger%201%
20-%20Icerigger.txt
"Escalloped chicken." She grunted. "Nice for us, but damned unprofitable.
naive the condemned a hearty last meal. Somebody on this shipping line has a
sense of humor."
Ethan looked up in surprise. It was the closest thing she'd said to a joke
since this'd happened to them. If it had a deeper meaning, it escaped him.
She started passing out the self-heating rations and he was so hungry he
finished the first before he thought to look at the label.
September grunted as he continued to jam and press the recalcitrant material
into the fissure. He looked over at Williams, huddled quietly to one side of
the fire.
"You handled yourself very well there, schoolmaster. I was kind of interested
to see what you'd do."
Williams acknowledged the compliment with a barely per-ceptible nod.
"I did not expect that Mr. Fortune would be so tired or foolish as to throw a
useable weapon in the direction of that person. Therefore I assumed it must
have burnt out or otherwise been rendered useless. This is a very nice fire
you've made here."
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"Enjoy it and welcome, while it lasts," September an-swered. "I think we've
got enough wood to last the night, anyway. You did say the nights were
shorter, young feller--me-lad?" Ethan nodded.
Ethan rolled over, trying to set himself as close to the flames as possible
barring sudden immolation. He hadn't found that warm spot. And if there was a
soft piece of duralloy, that had escaped his notice as well.
Trouble was, there were six of them to crowd around the energetic but tiny
fire. That meant you couldn't get too much of you next to it. It was
impossible to remain both polite and warm. So when one end of you was partly
defrosted, the other was still in the figurative freezer. It was most
discon-certing.
Chapter Three
They disposed o£ the packages by stacking them in the empty shipping carton
and shoving it into a far corner. September was for taking all the garbage
outside and tossing it to the winds. He wanted to keep their hideaway neat, as
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