Part 57 (1/2)

roped-off area and were pus.h.i.+ng microphones into his face again. Angrily

Carlotta hit her palm control, backing up his wheelchair and pulling it

toward her right through the flimsy rope. At a brisk pace she headed

across the street to the parking area where she hoped their driver was

waiting. Ned Townes, red-faced, materialized from somewhere and

furiously wigwagged at her, but she smiled and waved and nodded and

kept on going. He shouted something to her but didn't pursue.

The driver, miraculously, was still there. ”Imperial Hotel,” she said.

”Where?”

”Imperial Hotel. Downtown, somewhere.”

”I'm supposed to take you back to the East Bay.”

”First we have to go to the Imperial. There's a reception there for

my great-uncle.”

The driver, sullen, androidal, looked right through her and said, ”I

don't know about no reception. I don't know no Hotel Imperial. You're

supposed to go to the East Bay.”

”First we stop at the Imperial,” she said, ”They're expecting us. I'll