Part 7 (1/2)

I think so, he had said. But that had been a lie. Till now, that it jumped into clear focus. I'm free, I'm free, he thought. he thought. Out here, between here and the Krugers, I'm free, on my own, the first time in my life. Out here, between here and the Krugers, I'm free, on my own, the first time in my life. And then he thought: And then he thought: I'm not sure I like it. I'm not sure I like it.

Fool. Wake up. Pay attention. O my G.o.d, is that the plane coming back?

As a light showed suddenly behind him.

A boat. O G.o.d, O G.o.d, it's a boat back there.

He shoved the throttle wide. The boat lifted its bow and roared along the Kennicutt. He turned the lights on. They shone on black water, on water that swirled with currents, on banks closer than the Volga's, banks overgrown with the gangling shapes of weeping w.i.l.l.i.e.s-trees that tended to break as they aged and rot worked on them, trees which shed huge gnarled knots of dead wood into the Volga, navigation hazards far worse than rocks, because they floated and moved continually.

The lights were less risk now, he figured, than running blind.

But there would be guns back there, maybe. Maybe a boat that could overpower the runabout. He would be surprised if Moreyville had had something that could outrun him; d.a.m.ned surprised, he thought, with a cold knot of fear at his gut, watching the light wink out around a turning of the river; and then reappear in his rearview mirror.

A boat out of the precip station, maybe; maybe that end of Reseune had boats. He had no idea.

He applied his attention forward after that brief glance; center of the channel, Justin had warned him. Justin at least had taken the boat back and forth to Moreyville and down to precip ten; and he had talked to people at Moreyville who had gone all the way to Novgorod on the river.

Justin had done the talking; and Grant had paid attention mostly to the Novgorod part, because that had been what he was curious about. He and Justin-talking together about taking a boat that far someday, just heading down the river.

He steered wildly around a snag floating with one branch high.

A whole d.a.m.ned tree, tree, that one. He saw the root-ma.s.s following like a wall of tangled brush in the boat's spot; and swerved wider, desperately. that one. He saw the root-ma.s.s following like a wall of tangled brush in the boat's spot; and swerved wider, desperately.

G.o.d, if one of those came floating sideways-if the bow caught it- He kept going.

And the light stayed behind him until he saw the lights Justin had promised him s.h.i.+ning on the right, out of the dark- Ambush, he thought in the second heartbeat after he had seen them, because everything had become a trap, everything was an enemy.

But they were too high, they were too many: lights that twinkled behind the screen of weeping w.i.l.l.i.e.s and paperbarks, lights that were far too high for the river, lights blinking red atop the hills, warning aircraft of the obstacles of precip towers.

Then his knees began feeling weak and his arms began shaking. He missed the light from behind him when he looked to see; and he thought for the first time to put Justin's note in his pocket, and to take the paper that had been under it, in the case someone returned the boat to Reseune.

He throttled back, seeking some dockage, alarmed as the spotlight showed up a low rusty wall on the riverside, and another, after that- Barges, he realized suddenly. Kruger's was a mining settlement. They were ore barges, not so big as the barges that came down from the north; but the whole place was a dock; and there was a place for a little boat to nose to, there was a ladder that went up from a lower dock to an upper one, which meant he was not in the wild anymore, and he could breach the seals: but he did not do that. He did not think he ought to use the radio, since Justin had not told him anything about it; and he was not sure how to work it in any case. He just blew the horn, repeatedly, until someone turned the dockside lights on, and people turned out to see what had come to them from the river.

v ”You have a phone call,” the Minder said, and Justin started out of what had become sleep without his knowing it, lying as he had all night curled up on the living room couch; the sound brought him up on his elbow and onto his arm and then, as the Minder cut in and answered it, to his feet- ”I'm here,” he said aloud, to the Minder, and heard it tell the caller: the Minder said, and Justin started out of what had become sleep without his knowing it, lying as he had all night curled up on the living room couch; the sound brought him up on his elbow and onto his arm and then, as the Minder cut in and answered it, to his feet- ”I'm here,” he said aloud, to the Minder, and heard it tell the caller: ”Justin is in. A moment, please.”

He rubbed a face p.r.i.c.kly with the faint stubble he could raise, eyes that refused to focus. ”I'm here,” he said, his heart beating so hard it hurt, and waited for bad news.

”Good morning,” Ari said to him. Ari said to him. ”Sorry to bother you at this hour, Justin, but where is Grant?” ”Sorry to bother you at this hour, Justin, but where is Grant?”

”I don't know,” he said. Time. What time? Time. What time? He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the dim numbers of the clock on the wall console. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the dim numbers of the clock on the wall console. Five in the morning. He's got to be at Kruger's by now. He's got to. Five in the morning. He's got to be at Kruger's by now. He's got to. ”Why? Isn't he there?” He looked beyond the arch, where the lights were still on, where Grant's bed was unslept-in, proof that everything was true, Grant ”Why? Isn't he there?” He looked beyond the arch, where the lights were still on, where Grant's bed was unslept-in, proof that everything was true, Grant had had run, everything he remembered had happened. run, everything he remembered had happened.

We can't can't have gotten away with it. have gotten away with it.

”Justin, I want to talk with you, first thing when you get in today.”

”Yes?” His voice cracked. It was the hour. He was s.h.i.+vering.

”At 0800. When you get in. In the Wing One lab.”

”Yes, sera.”

The contact went dead. Justin rubbed his face and squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clamped. He felt as if he was going to be sick.

He thought of calling his father. Or going to him.

But Ari had given him plenty of lat.i.tude to do that; and maybe it was what he was supposed to do, or maybe it was Ari trying to make him think it was what he was supposed to do, so that he would shy away from it. Trying to out-think her was like trying to out-think his father.

And he was trying to do both.

He made himself a breakfast of dry toast and juice, all he could force onto his unwilling stomach. He showered and dressed and paced, delaying about little things, because there was so much time, there was so d.a.m.ned much time to wait.

It was deliberate. He knew that it was. She did everything for a reason.

Grant might be in the hands of the police.

He might be back at Reseune.

He might be dead.

Ari meant to drop something on him, get some reaction out of him, and get it on tape. He prepared himself for anything she could say, even the worst eventuality; he prepared himself, if he had to, to say: I don't know. He left. I a.s.sumed he was going to you. How could I know? He's never done anything like this. I don't know. He left. I a.s.sumed he was going to you. How could I know? He's never done anything like this.

At 0745 he left his apartment and took the lift down to the main hall; pa.s.sed Wing One security, walked to his own office, unlocked the door, turned on the lights, everything as he usually did.

He walked down the corridor where Jane Stra.s.sen was already in her office, and nodded a good morning to her. He rounded the corner and took the stairs down to the lab-section at the extreme end of the building.

He used his keycard on the security lock of the white doors and entered a corridor of small offices, all closed. Beyond, the double doors gave onto the dingy Wing One lab, with its smell of alcohol and chill and damp that brought back his early student days in this place. The lights were on. The big cold-room at the left had its vault door standing wide, brighter light coming from that quarter.

He let the outer doors shut and heard voices. Florian walked out from the vault-door of the lab.

Not unusual for a student to be here, not unusual for techs to be in and out of here: Lab One was old, outmoded by Building B's facilities, but it was still sound. Researchers still used it, favoring it over the longer walk back and forth to the huge birthlabs over in B, preferring the old hands-on equipment to the modern, more automated facilities. Ari had been down here a lot lately. She kept a lot of her personal work in the old cold-lab, as convenient a storage for that kind of thing, he had figured, as there was in Wing One.

Rubin project, he thought. Earlier her presence down here had puzzled him, when Ari did not need to do these things herself, when she had excellent techs to do the detail work. It no longer puzzled him. he thought. Earlier her presence down here had puzzled him, when Ari did not need to do these things herself, when she had excellent techs to do the detail work. It no longer puzzled him.

I'll be wanting to oversee the process myself-just a desire to have hands-on again. Maybe a little vanity. . . .

It was also private, the kind of situation with her that he had spent weeks trying to avoid.

”Sera is expecting you,” Florian said.

”Thank you,” he said, meticulously ordinary. ”Do you know what about?”

”I would hope you do, ser,” Florian answered him. Florian's dark eyes said nothing at all as he slid a glance toward the cold-lab door. ”You can go in. -Sera, Justin Warrick is here.”

”All right,” Ari's voice floated out.

Justin walked over to the open door of the long lab where Ari sat on a work-stool, at a counter, working at one of the old-fas.h.i.+oned separators. d.a.m.n,” she complained without looking up. ”I don't trust it. Got to get one out of B. I'm not going to put up with this.” She looked up and the hasty lift of her hand startled him as his hand left the vault door. He realized he had moved the door then, and caught it and pushed the ma.s.sive seal-door back, steadying it in frustration at his own young awkwardness, that rattled him when he most wanted composure.

”d.a.m.n thing,” Ari muttered. ”Jane's d.a.m.n penny-pinching-you touch it, it swings on you. That's That's going to get fixed. -How are going to get fixed. -How are you you this morning?” this morning?”