McCade's Bounty by William C. Dietz Page A

looked for the hovercraft. It had drifted downriver and out of sight.
    Phil was the last one aboard, and as he fell gasping into the bottom of the boat, McCade realized there was a problem. The raft was sinking.
    The raft had a number of self-contained air chambers so it wouldn't sink completely, but it looked as if they were in for a long wet ride.
    McCade didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The boat told its own story as it sank deeper in the water and began to flood.
    One by one they were dumped into the river and forced to find a spot around the raft's sides. Although they couldn't ride in it, the boat did provide flotation and something to cling to.
    They talked at first, still high on adrenaline, or the Lakorian equivalent. But as time passed the obvious things were soon said and gave way to periods of silence. These grew longer and longer until conversation stopped entirely and was replaced by swishing, gurgling rhythms of the river. It had a lulling, soothing effect, and McCade drifted in and out of sleep.
    Eventually he dreamed that he was far, far away, on a planet where it never snowed and never rained, where Sara and Molly were sunny and full of happiness.
    Then a terrible night fell over the land. Molly disappeared into darkness. McCade searched for her, flailing around in the blackness, grabbing squirmy things and throwing them away.
    Then a wavelet came and slapped him in the face.
    The others were yelling, pointing downriver where the hovercraft was grounded on a sandbar, celebrating their good fortune.
    But not McCade. His thoughts were farther downriver, in the slave markets that dotted the coast, with the little girl who might be waiting there.
    It took the better part of a day for the hovercraft's crew to complete temporary repairs, and two more to reach the town of Riversplit. It was there that they said good-bye to Ven and his surviving troopers, gave Bulo into the custody of Lif's troops, and met up with Murd.
    As before the king's advisor, or gofer, whichever he was, wore a long orange robe and looked somewhat fragile. But appearances can be deceiving as Murd demonstrated over the next few days.
    It took a full day to reach the coast and the first slave market. Already tired from his activities in Durn, the trip sapped even more of McCade's energy and left him drained.
    Not Murd though, when they arrived at the slave market he was as spry as ever, busy throwing his weight around and generally pissing everyone off.
    McCade didn't mind though since Murd's efforts were in his behalf and did a great deal to get things moving.
    Though a different slave market from the one McCade had experienced some years earlier, it was still quite similar.
    Their all-terrain vehicle had no top. As a result McCade was able to smell the slave market long before they actually arrived.
    It was horrible. The unbelievable stench that goes with open sewers and insufficient drainage, but something more as well, something part smell and part emotion.
    A feeling of misery, of fear, of hopelessness. It made McCade sick to his stomach.
    Then they rounded a bend and saw the stockade made of vertical logs. There were enormous gates that, with the Lakorian tendency to combine old with new, whirred open to let their vehicle pass.
    Once inside the vehicle was swamped by a small army of functionaries all vying for the privilege of kissing Murd's ancient rear end.
    Ignoring the mob McCade, Rico, and Phil got out of the vehicle and looked around. There was a large expanse of mud at the center of the market, an awning-covered platform where slaves were bought and sold, and rows of enclosed pens where they were housed.
    Having spent some time in similar accommodations McCade knew they had dirt floors, a single water tap, and an open sewer that ran along one wall.
    The thought that Molly might be locked inside one of those pens made his heart ache.
    He turned toward the knot of gesticulating Lakorians. "Murd . . . tell them to bring out