Dragon Dance Read Free Page B

himself into a sitting position. He put out a hand and felt cloth, then flesh. It was cold and unresponsive, and he recoiled instinctively. Was it a corpse? Was he surrounded by dead bodies?
    Something obscured the hatch light, and there was the sound of feet on a ladder. He whispered: “Brad?”
    â€œHere.”
    He felt a metal beaker being presented and drank water gratefully.
    Brad said: “Sorry to be so long. I had to wait while one of the Chinese filled a bucket at the water tank.”
    â€œChinese?”
    â€œOkay, it sounds crazy—but we did find that pagoda. Perhaps in this world they spread east, across the Bering Strait. Perhaps they have a colony up north. In Washington, maybe, or British Columbia.”
    Simon’s thoughts would not come together. “But what are they doing ?”
    â€œI’d think that’s obvious. Slaving.”
    â€œThe Indians, you mean? I touched one of them. I think they’re dead.”
    â€œNo, they’re not dead. It’s some kind of trance state. The gong probably started it off, followed by that business of holding heads and giving commands. They were already high on thorn apple. Maybe that’s why it didn’t work with us—we hadn’t smoked any.”
    Simon reached out again and touched flesh.
    â€œThis one’s really cold.”
    â€œAnd scarcely breathing. It’s a deep trance. Blood pressure very low, too, I’d guess. If you pricked his arm, he’d ooze rather than bleed.”
    â€œI don’t understand.” Simon rubbed his aching head. “Did I get hit?”
    â€œYes, you got hit. I thought it made sense to pretend I was tranced, like the Indians. They had two of them carry you here.”
    â€œWe’re on a ship?”
    â€œYes. There were boats tied up at the creek the Indians use. I doubt it’s the first time they’ve beenhere. Remember how Night Eagle reacted to the pagoda. We rowed out to this junk, and then the Indians were ordered into the hold and put back to sleep. I’ve been waiting for you to surface. I thought I might have to wait all night—or longer. I think it was a sandbag you got hit with.”
    Simon moved his head and groaned. “Some sand. How far offshore are we?”
    â€œMaybe half a mile.”
    â€œWe could swim that!”
    â€œYes. How do you feel about tackling the ladder?”
    â€œNot happy, but it’s better than the alternative. Where’s the hatch? I can’t see it now.”
    â€œThe sky was clouding when I was on deck. Hang on to me.”
    Almost at once, Simon trod on someone. A leg rolled nauseously under his foot, but there was no outcry. He trod on others on the way to the ladder, two lines of rope with wooden rungs. He managed to follow Brad up it, despite a new wave of dizziness, and heaved himself on deck. It was scarcely less dark than below, with no stars or moonlight. A stiffish breeze was blowing. Onshore or off? He put it to Brad.
    â€œI don’t know. We came in over that bulwark there, but she could have swung on her anchor chain. In fact, she could have swung right round.”
    So was it half a mile to shore, or over five thousand? It made a difference.
    â€œWhen it starts to get light . . .”
    â€œYes,” Brad said. “Meanwhile we’d better take cover, in case one of the crew comes along. There’s a pile of cargo amidships.”
    They found a coil of rope to sit on. The wind was freshening further, and there was an occasional drop of rain. Simon said, keeping his voice low: “You really think they’re from the north?”
    â€œThey must be.”
    â€œYou don’t suppose? . . .”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThat they could have come from China?”
    â€œAcross five thousand miles of ocean? In a junk?”
    Brad’s voice had its impatient, patronizing tone. Of course, it was ridiculous, when one thought about it. Brad