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"Registers'll be here soon. Give you the cards and passes you'll need while here. Give you work allocations an' all."

* * *

"Double fucking weird," Finnegan exploded after the old man brought them bowls of vegetable soup and fresh-baked cornbread. The old man paused for a moment when he saw Lori and Krysty sitting down with the men. Muttering something about stupe outies, he stamped off, leaving them alone with their meal.

"Yeah," J.B. agreed. "Never saw a ville the like of this one."

Doc Tanner spooned his soup, pausing and looking across at Ryan. "You know that this place is rife with evil, do you not, Mr. Cawdor?"

"How's that again, Doc?"

"Ginnsburg Falls. Mayor Sissy. A stoning. Nonpersons. Breeding. But not a speck of dirt to be seen. Neat guards with polished weapons. It appears to me to be a mutated and idealized version of some Midwestern fascist dream."

"Don't like this walk-line shit," Jak Lauren said quietly. The boy had been subdued ever since they'd been brought into the ville.

"See that sign at the entrance?" Krysty asked. "By the old man's cubicle? It said that any dropping of litter or dirtying meant a minimum of twenty hours ville labor. Never met such a tight hole. When do we go?"

Ryan sniffed. "Soon as we can. But I agree with Doc. We have to step careful. Walk the line, like they say. They got rules on top of rules. We make a mistake, and it could cost us. You two..." looking at Lori and Krysty "...have to be most careful. Women come way second in Ginnsburg Falls. Don't talk back, please. For all our sakes."

* * *

The light was beginning to fade when a pair of sec guards entered the building and motioned for the men to join them. "Outworlders come to the stoning," the one with two silver stripes on his sleeve said.

"Is that a request or an order?" Ryan asked, getting only a blank look for a reply. "Guess it's a little of both."

Leaving the two women behind, the men followed the guards out and down the scrubbed stone steps, turning left along the main street.

"Lot of folks," Doc Tanner commented.

"No," Ryan said. "Lots of men. No women at all."

It was true. The street was thronged with males of all ages, all neatly but plainly dressed, walking quietly along as if they were going to some sort of religious ritual. Several of them cast glances at the strangers, but nothing was said. None of them smiled or uttered a greeting. Just in front of them a boy about nine years old who had been eating some candy pushed the empty bag into his pocket. But in his haste it dropped out again and fell to the sidewalk.

"Jasper!" the father exclaimed in a voice taut with shock and anger.

"I'm sorry, only..."

The man swung a cracking roundhouse swing at his son, hitting the boy across the face. The slapping sound echoed all across the street, but only a few heads turned. The lad staggered sideways, hands flying to his mouth, blood flowing thick from a cut on his lip and oozing from his nose.

"Pick it up now," the man said, voice easing under control. "And don't ever..."

The boy picked up the crumpled piece of white paper and stuffed it in his pocket. Ryan and the other four watched in silence. The father caught them staring.

"Sorry, all. Please don't report us for... Wife's been ill and if reported we'd..." He stopped and looked more closely at them. "Outworlders! Didn't see at first. Oh, that's all right. Come on," he said to his son, dragging him by the arm along the street.

"Krysty's right, Ryan," Finnegan whispered. "Sooner we get out of this fucking ville the better."

"Yeah, Finn. With you there. Best get us some food and then mebbe hoist a wag and head on north."

They walked on in the thickening crowd. The calm of earlier had been replaced by a tenseness, an air of muted excitement. More and more eyes turned to look at the strangers, and again and again they heard the word "outworlder" repeated, plus the expression "first stone," or something that sounded like that.

The buildings were in excellent repair — far better than any ville Ryan, J.B. and Finn had ever seen. There were several stores, mostly selling plain clothes or food. Also for sale was a newspaper, the Ginnsburg Falls Regulator, whose proprietor, named on a trim board, was Isaac Sissy. That name was obviously quite popular. There was also the Sissy Temperance Hotel and the Rachel Sissy Second Pentecostal Baptist Church of His Last Coming.

"This Sissy family sure has the ville sewn up tight," J.B. said.

"Don't like the feel at all," Ryan replied, keeping his voice quiet so that none of the men and boys surging around them would catch what was said.

"Me, neither," Jak said. "Dumb creepy mutie bastards, all of 'em. Why not go, Ryan?"

"Tomorrow," Ryan said.

There were lights coming on all around the township, with lamps on street corners glowing into golden life. Doc Tanner looked around in delight. "I swear that I have not encountered such a degree of civilization in... in many long years."

"Where's the power plant?" Ryan asked the sec guard, who still walked stolidly along beside them, the heels of his boots ringing on the stone sidewalk.

"West. On Salvation Avenue. Big generators."

"You got radio?"

"Yes. Just for us. No vids. Mayor says one day. Gotta get spares. Folks up north could help. So my father said to me. Said his father 'fore him heard the same."

"That must..." Finnegan began, stopping suddenly when Ryan surreptitiously angled a foot out to trip him. The stout gunman stumbled and nearly fell over. He looked at Ryan in sudden anger, then saw the warning shake of the head and calmed himself. Ryan didn't want the sec men of Ginnsburg Falls to know anything about the faint radio message they'd heard, and Finn nodded his understanding.

"Got vids or teevee?" Jak Lauren asked.

"Said not."

"Said no vids. How's 'bout teevee?"

"No." The word was flat and final.

Ryan was surprised they hadn't been ordered to remove their blasters and leave them with the sec men. All of them had chosen not to carry their heavier guns, relying on side arms. Most of the adult males of the ville wore pistols, many of which looked like remakes.

On some of the side streets small domestic wags were parked, and just beyond the Harold Sissy Memorial High School, close by the lake, there was a big old Kenworth rig with chromed exhaust.

They followed the throng off the main drag and up the narrow slope of Quarry Road.

Several of the older men were smoking pipes, and Ryan wrinkled his nostrils at the familiar smell. He looked sideways at J.B., seeing that the Armorer had also recognized the scent.

"Maryjane, huh?" he whispered.

"How's that sit with that temperance hotel back there?" J.B. wondered. "From the Mayor Sissy Cannabis Plant?"

"Watch the tongue, friend," Ryan warned.

"Fireblast!" exclaimed Ryan Cawdor when they arrived at the quarry. It was possible that more people had gathered here than he'd ever seen in one place. He did a quick count in the gathering gloom, estimating there were something like seven thousand men and boys present.

That meant there was something wrong. Something, somewhere, that was terribly wrong.

"Doc," he said, noting the villefolk had left a circle around the five outworlders as though they were suspected of being plaguies.

"What?"

"You're the man of science."

"Was, my dear boy, was."

"What did that sign say when we came into the ville? The population?"

"Eight thousand four hundred and... and seven. Real big town for these days."

"Do me a rough count on how many's here."

The old man was silent, lips moving as he let his eyes run around the natural arena, ticking off the figures on the different ledges in the quarry. Away to their left there was some sort of disturbance in the crowd, with a phalanx of sec men pushing through.