Part 26 (2/2)

Cathy studied the rearview mirror. ”So should we go after them, or continue toward a place that we may or may not find and where Vale may or may not still be hiding?”

Jeremy faced forward, took Ringo's eye from his pocket, and rolled it between his fingers. ”Beats me.”

He sighed. ”Do you suppose that the fleshbound feel this indecisive very often? It's awful.”

Cathy didn't answer. She was now staring at a point on the southern horizon.

”Cath?”

”I just decided,” she said, pointing.

A motorcycle appeared in the far northbound lane. As it approached, Jeremy saw that the rider was bald and that he was wearing a mud-spattered gray overcoat.

”The government man,” Cathy said. ”On Vale's bike.”

The motorcycle flashed past, and Cathy hit the Datsun's brakes. Jeremy's forehead bounced off the dash, and his human-eye popped out of its socket.

”Thanks one whole h.e.l.l of a lot,” he said, leaning down to grope the floor. ”Now I can't see anything.”

”You don't have to. I know where I'm going, no thanks to you.” The Datsun lurched onto the clumped gra.s.s of the median.

Jeremy pressed the dog-eye into place as Cathy started to pull into the northbound lanes. ”Look out!” he yelled. ”There's a car coming!”

”Screw it,” Cathy said.

The approaching car braked, and Jeremy saw terror and anger in the faces of the man and woman who occupied it. He rolled down his window and called, ”Sorry! We're fifteen thousand years old, and we don't obey traffic laws!”

”Oh, shut up,” Cathy said. She accelerated after the motorcycle.

With the help of Ringo's eye, Jeremy found his own and replaced it in its socket. He looked back at the car that Cathy had almost creamed.

”You know,” he said, ”that woman looks familiar too.” ”They all look alike, if you ask me,” Cathy grumbled.

RINGO.

He watched the Jaguar speed away and decided against pursuing it. He had given his friends a head start, and that was good enough. His days of chasing vehicles across hundreds of miles were over. His new job was to be the protector of the Holden estate, so he left the highway and trotted home. Once there, he curled up on the porch and dozed until Laura and Mike drove in that afternoon.

”The garage is open and the Kamikaze's gone,” Mike said as he emerged from the Dart. ”That means that Dad has taken Mrs. Mussolini to the bus station, but the buses won't be running, so we'll be stuck with her for another night. a.s.suming that Dad doesn't get caught in a couch potato riot.”

”Just because we almost did doesn't mean he will,” Laura said. ”Dad can take care of himself. I'll bet that Ms. Laird can too.” She patted the Doberman, who was dancing and jumping to demonstrate his joy that they were home. ”Want to watch me take apart Ringo's rejected eye?”

”I suppose so. There's not much on TV.”

Ringo followed them inside and downstairs to Laura's room. Mike sat on the worktable in front of the Mac while Laura picked up the eye and held it under a lamp. ”The division between the halves is a hair-thin line,” she said. ”I don't see any notch to accommodate a tool.”

”Just hit it with a hammer,” Mike suggested.

”Oh, sure. And destroy the works.”

Ringo whined. Pete had wanted the kids to look at the Mac screen, but Mike was blocking it. He nudged the boy with his nose.

”See?” Mike said. ”Ringo agrees with me. The worst that can happen is that the thing will explode and kill us.”

Laura grasped the eye and twisted the halves counterclockwise. They parted. ” 'Hit it with a hammer,' ”

she sneered.

”Uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g it was going to be my second choice.”

Laura examined the halves. ”The inner surface of the posterior half is coated with a silvery substance,”

she said, ”but the anterior half contains what looks like a camera.” She held that half before her own right eye. ”Hey, it's projecting! But the images are too small for me to see what they are.”

Mike jumped down from the table, went to the wall switch, and turned off the ceiling light. ”Get the lamp,” he said, returning to the table and tearing a sheet of paper from the computer printer.

Laura switched off the lamp, leaving the video monitor and the Mac screen as the room's only sources of light,and Mike held the paper behind the half eye. He moved the sheet back and forth until the projectionresolved into an inverted image of a two-lane highway as seen from a moving automobile.

”Rad,” Mike said. ”Can you get it right-side-up?”

Laura turned the eye, but the image remained inverted. ”Not without an additional lens. Apparently, the image projected onto the artificial retina is upside-down, and since we're looking at the projection from the wrong side, it's backward too. That road sign really says 'U.S. 177 North.' ” She took the paper from her brother. ”Turn off the monitor and the Mac, will you? I want to see if I can make out what's on the road ahead.”

Mike blanked the video monitor and was reaching for the Mac when Ringo put his nose on the screen.

Mike saw the note at last. ”Message from Dad,” he said. ”He's escorting Mr. Vale to Topeka, expects to be back tomorrow. We're supposed to take care of ourselves and stay out of trouble. 'P.S. Don't forget to feed the dog.' ”

”Oh-oh,” Laura said.

” 'Oh-oh' what? We've managed by ourselves before.”

”That's not it. Look at this.” The projection was clearer in the reduced light, and it showed an upside-down motorcycle and rider. ”That's Mr. Vale's Ariel.”

”But Mr. Vale isn't bald,” Mike said. ”And he has blue coveralls, not a coat.”

Ringo squeezed between the brother and sister to get a better look at the projection, and then he growled. He recognized the bald man. He should have stopped him that morning... except that the only way to stop him for good would have been to kill him, and Ringo couldn't do that.

”He doesn't like what he sees,” Laura said.

”Neither do I. Why is someone else on Mr. Vale's bike? And if Dad was going with him, where's the Kamikaze?”

Laura s.h.i.+fted the paper. ”Maybe that white speck down the road?”

”Could be.” Mike turned the lamp back on. ”Do you remember Ms. Laird saying something about a 'Bald Avenger' who was after Mr. Vale?”

Ringo s.n.a.t.c.hed the sheet of paper from Laura's hand and chewed it to shreds.

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