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The failure of the night's attack surprised the boy. "Was it Trader's fault?"
"Difficult question, Dean. He and I argued about placing the backup force.
But, in fairness to the bad-
tempered old bastard, none of us knew that Straub had the kind of mutie power
it seems he's got."
"Jamie tell you what happened?" The question dragged itself out with great
reluctance.
"How you pretended to be him?"
"Yeah. It was my idea. I'm not saying that to make myself any kind of hero,
Dad."
"I know that."
"Just so you know that the kid didn't turn chicken on me. He was going to own
up, but I stopped him. I
reckoned it was the best chance for both of us to make it."
Ryan nodded, keeping alert for any sounds of pursuit. "Turned out right."
Dean had something on his mind, but he couldn't quite steer around to it.
"You like Jamie Weyman, Dad?"
"Sure. Much tougher than you think, the first time you meet him."
Dean nodded. "I thought that. Only he's got all that that learning , don't
he?"
"Doesn't he? Should be 'doesn't,' not 'don't,' Dean. Krysty's always on at me
for making mistakes like that."
"Think it's important, Dad?"
"Krysty says that if you can choose between getting it right and getting it
wrong, then it's better to get it right. I suppose I agree with her."
Now it was coming to it.
"Jamie knows all about math and history and places and science and stuff,
Dad."
"He's been well taught."
"Not like me," Dean muttered, head down, not looking up to meet his father's
eye.
"No. Not like you." He moved close enough to put an arm around the boy's
shoulders. "You've been taught in a different school. School of life. Sure,
Jamie knows all that learning stuff, Dean. But put him in a wilderness with a
knife and no shelter, and he'd die in forty-eight hours. Probably much less.
You know what I mean?"
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"Yeah."
"You're the most self-sufficient boy I ever met. Bet you a bucket of jack that
even Jak Lauren wasn't as good as you when he was your age."
"You reckon?" Dean seemed happier at that idea.
Ryan followed the course. "You can look after yourself, Dean, anytime and
anyplace. You've been in tight spots that would make someone like Jamie sit
down and wait for the last train to the coast."
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"Sure, but"
"It worry you that Jamie's got such a good education, Dean? That it?"
"Suppose it is, Dad. Am I real stupe?"
"For worrying about it?"
"Yeah."
" 'Course not. Everybody wants to be better than they are. I envy Mildred the
way she shoots and all she knows about medicine. J.B. for his knowledge of
weapons. Krysty for her wisdom. Doc for the bedrock of learning he's gotten
himself. Jak for his way with knives and his tracking skills. Everyone has
things they reckon they're good at. As well as things they envy others."
"I suppose so."
"You wish you were better book-learned. Jamie wishes he could do all the
things you can do."
"Does he?"
"Sure he does."
"How do you know?"
Ryan shook him gently. "Hey, you doubting me, Dean? I'm telling you it's so."
"But I mean Do you think there'd ever be a chance of me having some sort of
real learning, like him?"
"I think it's possible. I know that Krysty once talked about some kind of
school where you live for a year or so. Not that far from Harmony ville, where
she came from. Get yourself a real book education."
Dean nodded, eyes screwed up as he considered this totally new option in his
life.
"A year?"
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"Or two years. I don't know. I know that there's an awful lot of learning that
a man could get. Doc sometimes says that knowledge is power, and I believe
him."
"Do you, truly, Dad?"
"Yeah. We'd keep in touch. Visit. Then, afterward, it might be that me and
Krysty'll have settled down someplace. And you'd come join us."
"Like Jak did?"
"Yeah."
He glanced up at his father. "And have kids?"
Ryan swallowed hard. He hadn't seen that particular question coming. "Mebbe."
"Brothers and sisters for me. I think I'd probably like that, Dad."
"If you got plenty of education, then you could pass it on to them."
Dean grinned, jumping to his feet. "Can we get back to the ville and talk to
Krysty?"
"Not yet." Ryan stood and looked behind them, where the fog had thinned down
to a veil of white mist, opalescent in the first light of the new day.
"Nobody's coming after us." Dean was staring intently down the trail, through
the trees. "We could cut back down onto the main track and be in the ville in
about four or five hours."
"We could, but we aren't. Been thinking about a sort of a plan. Been taking
its own shape while we walked and talked. Now it's time to bring it out and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]