They all got out of the flyer, including Vadesh, and stood beside it, looking at the crowd of at least a thousand people, probably more, who were arranged on a grassy slope beyond the Wall. Many of them jumped up and waved their hands wildly, so the motion could be seen across the width of the Wall.
“They knew we were coming,” said Umbo.
Because they all looked at Vadesh, the expendable put up his hands in a very human gesture of protest. To Rigg, it looked like his father telling him that he was about to refuse him a request. “It wasn’t me,” said Vadesh. “I didn’t tell any of the other expendables that I was coming.”
“I thought you told each other everything,” said Rigg.
“Eventually, yes.” Then Vadesh added, “Or at least I tell them. I think they are not all candid with me.”
“Nevertheless, these people seem to have known we were arriving, and they’re here to greet us,” said Olivenko.
“Or they’ve come to rush through if we bring down the Wall,” said Rigg.
“Bring it down,” said Vadesh. “This wallfold needs people.”
“People to wear your happy little facemasks?” said Param.
Vadesh made no answer.
Rigg was scanning the distant crowd, not with his eyes—the distance was too great to pick out individuals with any clarity—but with his path-sense. “They didn’t all come from the same place,” he said. “They’ve come from many places, and some of them very far away. They must have been traveling for days.”
“Well, I don’t want to cross here, then,” said Olivenko. “Who knows what they have in store for us?”
“Feels like a trap,” said Umbo.
“They seem to be waving to us,” said Param. “Cheerfully. Beckoning.”
“Laughing,” said Olivenko.
“You can’t possibly hear any laughter,” said Vadesh.
“But you can,” said Olivenko. “And I can see enough of their body movement and attitudes to see that they’re on a frolic. I don’t think they have any hostile intent.”
“Or that’s what they want us to think,” said Umbo.
“No danger,” said Loaf.
Everyone turned to him at once. Loaf had not spoken since he was possessed by the facemask weeks before.
“No weapons,” said Loaf, still looking across the grassy expanse of the Wall.
“Is this you talking?” asked Umbo. “Or the facemask?”
“Me,” said Loaf.
“The facemask would make him answer the same way,” said Param.
Loaf reached up a hand and rested it comfortably on the facemask, the way a pregnant woman might rest her hand on her swollen belly. “Husband of Leaky, soldier, innkeeper, it’s me,” said Loaf. “But yes, the mask is happy to have me say so. The mask is glad that I’m speaking now.”
“Why haven’t you spoken before?” asked Umbo, still suspicious.
“Nothing to say,” said Loaf.
Rigg laughed. “Yes, it’s Loaf,” he said. “Same sense of humor. Or at least it’s as much of Loaf as we’re likely to get. I don’t suppose you can take off that thing now?”
“Don’t want to,” said Loaf. “I see so clearly now. I see all the faces, all the hands, what they’re wearing. No weapons. All unarmed. And happy, interested, excited.”
“You can see that?” asked Olivenko.