He laughed, shaking his head, and turned to hold her as Dix joined them.

  “The girl’s crying,’’ he said. “Doesn’t want to leave.’’

  “She will,’’ Jess said. “McLeod won’t want to sit here doing nothing, either.’’

  “And what about me?’’

  “What about you?’’ Parric said quietly, and Jessica’s arm tightened around his waist.

  The android stood in front of the window, the light behind turning his figure to shadow. “I was sick,’’ he said. “I am well. They will want to know how.’’ And if he isn’t, Parric thought, somebody else will have to kill him.

  Chapter 13

  “According to my all-knowing, pace of the Prophet’s heart memory, we should get to the Central sometime tomorrow, assuming that it hasn’t been blown off the face of the globe, and assuming no one tried to stop us from our sacred mission. If anyone wants to bet, let me know. I could use the money.”

  Parric nodded automatically, resigned and depressed by the foundation of skepticism upon which McLeod had, all morning, constructed his feeble forays into humor. The disillusionment had come swiftly and he had been struggling with it since leaving the Town: the search for the reason why he had thought his friend would have been as enthusiastic as he, and as dedicated. Two women and a dead man caught in his wake, showered by the chips of his molding of a dream, and McLeod was going to help him varnish that dream with shining reality. He shook his head and stared at the steep wall of the mountain blurring green and brown past the landcar. He was tired, fought to keep from dozing in the fear that should he sleep the landcar would be turned around and running back to the dubious • shelter of an artificial Town.

  And fear, he knew finally and sadly, was what kept McLeod from lending him total support.

  Sometime during the night, after Jessica had slept and Peg was still trying to make up her mind, Parric had sat up in the realization that there would be for him never another Everlasting, that no matter what the outcome, he could never again allow himself to be anonymous.

  I can’t go out there again, Peg had said earlier.

  Well, I’m going, damn it, and I need my sleep, McLeod had said as he stormed in from the bedroom to quiet the argument Peg had been nurturing between herself and Jessica. You can stay if you want to, but for my bleeding heart’s sake, please let me sleep.

  You’d leave me here all alone?

  Nonsense. We’ll leave Willard here to take care of you.

  I can’t stay here with that thing all by myself. He’ll kill me.

  No, Parric had thought after abdicating his leg of the debate, you’ll kill yourself, and the hell of it will be, you ’ll live to regret it.

  So, McLeod said, come along and be killed with your friends.

  There had been a deep-sleep whimpering that kept him awake until dawn, and when Peg joined him in the kitchen to pack some food, he only smiled when she said she would go, smiled and said nothing as they crawled into the newer, more spacious landcar McLeod had wheedled out of the Central. Watching, however,

  McLeod’s nervousness as he sped past the deadened barrier. “It’s not like we’re going back, Cam,’’ he’d said, and ached at the shuddering as McLeod struggled to believe.

  Fear. Parric had ripped out the umbilical and was growing again, but Cam still had the nightmare of returning to prison. It was, to him, somehow still a dream or a minor vacation from Time’s mainstream. He was afraid of being yanked back into the company of the whitecoats.

  Why is it always me, Parric thought, who has to be strong? Who the hell died and made me God?

  And as they traveled, several times the road turned to paving and was studded with lighting poles that on the straightaways seemed like disjointed bars on a long, narrow cage. Once in a while they stopped at a comunit exchange booth, but none were working, and when the facilities began appearing too close together, and signs for walkways began taking up space, McLeod shuffled through his memory and cut off the main route into secondary, untreated roads.

  For the past three hours, then, as the mountains introduced themselves while scratching the sky, they had seen nothing but trees and some lackluster flowers.

  Talk spurted, but Dix remained silent; he was directly behind Parric, Jessica in the middle, Peg on the left, and when she haltingly tried to apologize to him, the android said he didn’t know what she was talking about.

  “Looks easier to handle than the one we stole,’’ Parric said once.

  “Honest goods makes honest working,’’ McLeod said, constantly releasing one hand or the other from the streamlined cuffs to rub at the stubble-shadow covering his head like a prickly cowl.

  “You sure you know where you’re going?” Jessica said, leaning forward to poke her head between the two front seats.

  “M’dear, this handsome vehicle which, may I say with humiliating modesty, I arranged for a mighty good price—”

  "And a few good bribes," Parric muttered, ignored. “—has unerring directional capabilities which will enable it to find any line you care to draw between here and Panasia, rest her evil soul. In addition, may the seraphim pluck their little heartstrings for me, I have many times studied the route to the Central in case I had to journey there for emergencies.”

  "Liar," Parric said. “The only reason you’d want to go there would be to personally count your credits before they banked them for you.”

  “No faith, Frankie, no faith. However, be that as it may, I still know the way, and there lies your trust, I trust. The only thing I don’t know for sure is what’s in store between here and there.”

  “If it was a woman, you’d stop in a firestorm.” “Cam,” Peg said, “are you one of those kind?” McLeod tried to explain how he absolutely was not one of those kind, turned it into a mocking denunciation of Parric’s hermitage, and Parric grinned relief to his reflection in the side-door glass.

  “Hey,” Jessica said, “don’t look now, but there’s life down there.”

  The road had been skirting a narrow valley violated only by a warped silver-blue ribbon of river; abruptly, however, it forked, McLeod taking the right to remain on the mountain while the left dropped and disappeared, snaking into view on the valley floor to become the main street of a fair-sized village. Swearing at the sun’s glare on the water, Peg finally guessed it to be perhaps the second her mediteam had visited.

  “It looks so quiet, though,’’ she said, pressing close to the glass and pausing long enough for Parric to remember Eisentor. “Wait! I think I can see some people, though it could be my imagination.’’

  “No, it isn’t,’’ Parric said after convincing himself McLeod wasn’t going to drop them over for an unscheduled visit. “And if I’m not mistaken, it looks like they’ve set up some barriers in the road at either end. Can’t make out what they’ve used, though.’’

  Jessica confirmed Parric’s guess, then waved her hands in frustration as her fingers sought the familiar grip of a long-lensed tricorder.

  “Bet they’re real friendly,’’ Dix said, making Peg jump.

  “Hey, let’s go down there and see,’’ she said.

  “Forget it, little nurse,’’ McLeod said, speeding up to put the village behind them. “Blockades mean only trouble for anyone trying to get in. Or out. Those folks down there do not want company of any kind. And I wouldn’t be surprised if they had the guns to prove it."

  “Just like those,’’ Parric said quietly, straightening in his seat as he indicated with a nod the obstruction at the next bend.

  There were three men standing in front of an overturned hovercat, their faces shielded by black, broad-brimmed hats and their hands resting lightly on the barrels of open stock ContiGuard rifles. They were not, however, wearing uniforms, only the tight, blotched costumes of hunters.

  McLeod slowed, eased the landcar to a halt with its blunted nose aimed at a narrow gap between the mountainside and the ’cat. Parric looked once into the back of the car with a silent command, then tried to relax when one of the guards pushed himself away from his companions and walked carefully to McLeod’s side, his rifle pointing at the ground, a finger filling the trigger guard. Cam pulled aside the front window and nodded, smiling and mopping at his scalp.

  “Hot work,” he said, trying to smooth the roughness of his voice. “All that sun’s bad for the skin, so says the Allah-Be.”

  The man stooped to look inside. "Nicer out here than it is in there,” he said, grinning, his free hand idly rubbing his chest. “You going somewhere special?” “Away,” Parric said before McLeod could answer. “Saved our freetime to do some walking. Heard over by Oraton what had happened and we really don’t want to head back for Philayork until things cool down.” “You’ll be gone for a long time,” the man said, leaning against the car. “You heard about Eisentor?” Parric nodded. “Heard about it, didn’t see it. Doesn’t look like you got hurt, though.”

  “Some doctors come in from the hospital and jabbed us a while back. Strangers, though, we don’t know about.”

  “Are you from that town back there in the valley?” Jessica asked.

  The man nodded. “Not them, though,” he said, pointing. “One’s from Foxhole, the other’s living in Wedley.”

  “How come you’re together?”

  The man ducked down again and stared at her. Parric twisted slowly to brace one foot against the door. McLeod, he could see, was toying with the accelerator; he hadn’t yet put on the emergency brake.

  “Lady, you’ve been gone a while, that’s for sure. This is Quilly country now. He got us rifles, a mess of good food, and told us what— Where did you say you was going?”

  “As far away from this mess as possible,” McLeod said.

  “Well, be sure you don’t go too far. When it comes dark, find a town to put up in. Don’t know what crazies might be hidden back in the mountains, you know. Just this morning we got word about an andy group that was hitting some of the smaller places. If it weren’t for men like Quilly, you folks wouldn’t last a minute out here at night.”

  McLeod nodded and the women made appropriate noises of deep gratitude.

  “Well, you get stuck for food or something,” the man said, backing away, waving at the others, “come on back. We’ll be glad to let you stay a while.”

  “We’ll do that,” McLeod said, letting the landcar roll slowly forward while the barricade vehicle was swiveled out of the way. “You men be careful now,” he added, waving.

  The man grinned, one finger polishing the mouth of the barrel, and it was all Parric could do to keep from putting his foot down on the accelerator.

  “Quilly?” Peg said when several kilometers allowed them easy breathing.

  “Some local businessman or politician, most likely," Jessica said. "Didn’t waste much time carving himself out a little kingdom, did he?”

  “Damned ambitious, too,” McLeod said, straining to keep the car from drifting over the edge of the road as he pushed it as fast as the terrain would allow. “If he can get guns like that, he sure doesn’t want to stop with a valleyful of villages. I’ll bet he’s already drawing maps with his name all over them.”

  “Why didn’t they search us?” Peg said.

  “No need,” Dix said, startling Parric. “No danger.”

  “Since it’s obvious we aren’t plague-ridden, we’re probably considered harmless city idiots who’ll kill ourselves trying to run away. They’re probably laughing their fool heads off right now.”

  "I don’t like it," Peg persisted. “You’d think they’d be more suspicious.”

  "Thank your stars in orbit for little favors," McLeod said, “and pass something up here to eat. Unless anyone had any real objections, except for using nature’s choicest bathroom, I don’t really want to stop again. ” Parric agreed immediately and, after finishing his meal, tried to curl up on his seat to get some sleep. If they were going to drive all night, one of them should be at least awake enough to keep the landcar on the road. Sighing, he rested his head against the side door, felt the vehicle’s vibrations, and tried to ignore them; they were insistent, however, and plowed furrows of headache from his forehead to the base of his skull. He heard McLeod humming tunelessly and tried to fashion a melody, shifted angrily, and cupped a hand between his head and the glass. Peg began a game, cajoling out of Jessica a desultory effort to name all the pre-Noram Presidents. Parric counted to himself to block out the noise, daydreamed pictures of his office and looked for the names of the men who had worked there; what he saw instead was the Secretary rolling between the narrow aisles, sweeping from the seats the remains of a thousand clerks who had died counting premiums. “Damn,” he said, sitting straight again, brushing his forearm across his face. “Want me to drive a little, Cam?”

  McLeod shook his head. “In a bit, maybe, but not now. I need something to do, if you know what I mean.”

  “Absolutely,” Parric said.

  “Let’s trade life stories,” said Peg.

  Jessica laughed, and when Parric turned to stare at the nurse, he wondered at the doe-fear in her eyes.

  "No, really, if we’re going to be with one another for a long time, wouldn’t it be a good idea to know the other person as well as you can?” She frowned. “Do you know what I mean?”

  “Sure,” Parric said, “and if you don’t mind, I’d just as soon read about myself in Jessica’s history, about a million years from now.”

  “You’re no fun, Frank,” she said.

  “Maybe,” Jessica said, “but he’s got a point. Time machines may be all right for some people, but we’ve got no use for them now. The past, I hate to remind you, isn’t what you think it was, and a lot deader.”

  “More dead,” Parric said.

  “Whatever,” Jessica said.

  “You’re no fun either, Jess,” Peg said and twisted her lips into a pout that made them both laugh.

  “Ah, party time,” McLeod said, “but it looks like there’s more damned roadblocks in this area than there are trees. Here we go again, fellow travelers.”

  Parric quieted, though a grin remained, and for a minute thought they’d been riding in a vast circle. For the second time a landcar obstructed the road, and again three men in hunter’s garb and broad-brimmed hats stood waiting for them. When their vehicle stopped, nothing moved.

  “They want us to get out?” McLeod said.

  “Forget it,” Parric said. “If they want information, they’ll have to come and get it.”

  “What about him?” McLeod said, jerking his head back toward a silent Dix.

  Parric didn’t turn around. “You’re still alive,” he said quietly.

  An hour-long minute, then one guard propped his rifle against the blockade debris and removed his hat, slapping it against his legs as he walked toward the car. He was young, younger than Parric, but there was a coarseness about his eyes that suggested aging wood. He rapped on the windshield with his knuckles and beckoned, but McLeod only smiled and slid open the window.

  “Trouble?” he asked politely.

  "Just want you folks out of that car, ” the young man said as if inviting them out for dinner. "Don’t want you baking in there while we talk.”

  “What’s to talk? We’re only heading into the mountains away from the plague and stuff,” McLeod said as Parric tried not to be conspicuous tripping the lever that locked his side of the car.

  “From the city, huh?”

  “Philayork,” McLeod said. “We were vacationing—”

  “I know, I know,” the man said. “Going to do some walking. Going to hide in the hills until the world comes back, right?”

  Parric frowned, shrugged when Cam looked to him for an answer. Though he hadn’t seen it, there was apparently some sort of comlink between roadblocks, and the first had obviously become suspicious.

  “Tell you what, mister,” the man said, smiling.

  “Why don’t you shut this thing down a minute. Can’t hardly hear you over that whining.’’

  “Well, it’s been giving me some trouble lately,’’ McLeod stalled. “I don’t know if I could start it again.’’

  “Don’t you worry about it. I got a friend standing right over there who’s a great mechanic. He can start anything that has an engine. Please, shut it down.’’

  Parric tensed, waiting to see if McLeod would try to run the blockade, but the pair remaining in front of them had shifted their weapons to their hips, muzzles down but unmistakably at the ready; and after a long count of five, he reached over and flicked off the ignition. He looked and saw Jessica pressed close to Dix, but Peg was leaning forward, grinning broadly, and he cursed her stupidity. Neutral was what they should be, not engaging or provocative.

  The man tapped on the door impatiently until McLeod shrugged off the cuffs and hiked up the door, cocking it perpendicular to the roof of the car.

  “Very good,’’ the man said. “Now I can see you all better. Say, you must have a pretty good plant in there, you’re not sweating a bit. That’s a shame because my friends and I have been standing out here since early this morning and there’s damned little shade, you can believe me. Tell you what: so you won’t get them angry at being so comfortable, why don’t you step outside and say hello?’’

  “No, thanks,’’ McLeod said. “My legs, you know,’’ and he gestured vaguely toward the floor, never completed the motion as the man grabbed his shoulders and yanked him clear. Instantly, McLeod was on his feet and had his arms wrapped around the other’s waist, his momentum slamming both of them against the hood and off onto the ground. Parric, his door lever jammed, scrambled over the seats to the outside, but his intentions to assist Cam were stifled when he saw the guards aiming carefully at his and the others’ heads.

  And except for the grunting, it was silent, silence lightly edged with ragged fearful breathing.

  A moment later, McLeod was dragged to his feet and shoved against the car. He fell halfway in, was yanked out and pushed toward Parric, who grabbed his arms to steady him.

 

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