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Valentine took a swallow of water.
"On the other hand", Valentine said, "they're going to be happy as hell to meet you. What I can't figure out is what they do with the eyes. Eyes don't keep. Do they eat them as soon as they pull them out, maybe with a little salt like a hard-boiled egg, or do they carry around a jug of brine..."
The cactus stand let out a cough and went silent.
"Option three is me", Valentine said. "I'm just interested in that reward on the back of your jacket. I'm sure you know the wording by heart. It's a win for both of us: You get to be alive, and I get my money".
"Ya-hey", the cactus stand said. A man stood up, a bloody bandage on his hand and a good-sized swelling on his head. He had the blond good looks of an old magazine cover model. Powerful shoulders tested the limits of his jumpsuit, and a brown leather jacket of the type Valentine had last seen outside Dallas was tied around his waist. "You could have said so to begin. Navajo or Apache?"
"Neither", Valentine said. "Max Argent".
"Equality Hornbreed".
Valentine wasn't sure he'd heard correctly.
"First name was good politics", Hornbreed said. He blew his nose into a silk handkerchief, coughed again. "My genitors were all about good politics".
"Your ribs intact?" Valentine asked.
"It's the pollen. Spring allergies. I can walk all night if I have to. Got a headache that about has me cross-eyed is all".
"I think I've got some aspirin..."
"Took a couple, thanks. Grabbed the medical kit first thing".
"Your friends know you went down?"
He took a handful of dried fruit. "They do. Everyone was low on fuel - end of the leg. Guess no one had the guts to try a setdown to pick me up - strict rules about that, we lose too many ships. The strip we're heading for is just a temp, though, no pickup helicopter. There's a couple parked at Yuma, so I might be on my own until tomorrow".
"Hurt the hand on landing?"
"No. Planted it on some broken glass, otherwise I'd offer you a candied plum. Didn't look when I unhooked. I smelled smoke and was worried I was on fire".
"You armed?"
"Pistol and my flare gun. Want me to turn them over to you?"
He was oddly accommodating.
"Can I look at the offer on the jacket again?"
The wording hadn't changed, nor had the logo of a rattlesnake with dragon wings flying openmouthed toward the viewer. Colorful mission patches and squadron insignia - a hairy pirate face with a classic skull-and-bones cap appealed - decorated the sleeves and pockets.
Valentine joined him in the cacti, saw a blanket spread out with a big water jug, a signaling mirror with a hole in the center, and a fire starter. He uncased his binoculars and made a slow survey of the valley below them from cover. Nothing. Of course, that didn't mean the Jaguars weren't approaching. There was ample cover in the dry washes and brush.
"You picked a good spot". Valentine broke out the preserved chow.
"I've had to set down before. Never flipped my bird, though. I'm sure the squadron's having a good laugh. That's a nice rifle".
"Steyr Scout", Valentine said.
Hornbreed checked his wounded hand. "Hope I don't have to see it in action".
"We've got two options, Equality", Valentine said. "Wait for your friends to show, or try to make it to the interstate you passed over. There's a convoy that'll be passing through at first light tomorrow. We can hitch up with them and drop off at the next crossroads and make for Yuma".
"We'll be easier to pick out if we move. I'm supposed to stay with my ship unless I have to evade".
"The Jaguars..."
