Engineman - Eric Brown [68]
The Priest went on, but Mirren heard nothing for the pounding of his pulse in his ears. He seemed to be aware of the proceedings around him as if from a great distance; he felt suddenly isolated with the burden of his knowledge.
He clutched Dan's arm. "I knew Macready!" he hissed.
Dan glanced at him. "You did? I'm sorry..." And he returned his gaze to the front.
"You don't understand - I was with him when he died!"
Dan leaned over and hissed, "That's impossible! He had Heine's. He'd've been quarantined until he died-"
"For chrissake, I was with him. He broke into the 'port. I stopped him from trying to kill himself. We sat talking for a couple of hours." Mirren recalled the scotch. "We even shared a bottle."
"You sure it was the same guy?"
"How many other Macready's have pushed for the Taurus Line and died recently?" He tried to keep the panic from his voice.
"But Heine's cases are supposed to be kept in isolation."
"Then the bastard escaped. He wanted to throw himself into the interface. He even told me he was ill."
Around them, Enginemen murmured their disapproval.
Dan gripped Mirren's elbow. "How do you feel?"
His stomach turned. "Terrible..." He was shaking again.
Dan ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Mirren. "We're going. We've got to get you to a hospital."
Mirren gave a hollow laugh. "Isn't that a little too late?"
They were already out of their seats and edging along the pew, disturbing disgruntled Enginemen as they went. They hurried to the exit, and behind him Mirren heard the priest intone, "Let us now rejoice that Edward Macready has cast off this cruel illusion..."
Chapter Twelve
Ella leaned expertly into the bend. The snow-capped peaks of the Torreón mountains stood high and distant to her right, and to her left was the ever-present sunset. She came into the straight and accelerated, luxuriating in the feel of the headwind, the illusion of liberty gained through speed and an open road.
She might have been physically free, but mentally she was the prisoner of her thoughts. She could not shake from her head the images of Eddie and Max, Jerassi and Rodriguez. They had given their lives willingly; Eddie through despair, and the others for a cause far greater than their lives, and maybe through despair, too. They were all in a far better place now, but that didn't make the pain of her bereavement any easier to bear. Ella had faith, she believed in the joyous afterlife that awaited everyone, but all she asked was for a little joy in this life, too.
She had been on the road an hour, stopping and pulling into the cover at the side of the road only when she spotted vehicles up ahead. She had no doubt that, after the destruction of the interface, the militia would be all the more vigilant in their search for possible accomplices. So far she had seen only civilian vehicles, farm trucks and the occasional private car, and fortunately not many of either.
Now she slowed as she came to the last bend before her destination, rounded it and brought the bike to a halt.
Ahead, the central plateau lowered itself in ever-widening steps down to the coast. Each semi-circular terrace was bountiful with wild jungle and carefully cultivated tropical gardens, ablaze with bougainvillea and a dozen varieties of alien flowers. Dwellings of different designs occupied the levels, from traditional villas to A-frames, ziggurats in white ceramics to cluster-domes like so many over-blown soap bubbles. But more spectacular than the gardens and mansions was the feature that gave the Falls its name. Perhaps a hundred waterfalls poured cleanly from level to level, perfectly geometrical like arcs of blue glass, each maintaining the water-level of as many dazzling lagoons. The sight always struck Ella as breathtakingly beautiful.
She kick-started