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Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [156]

By Root 1691 0
Suddenly Kim could see only mist and dying sparks rising into the sky, like the aftermath of a campfire when someone has thrown a bucket of water on the logs.

“Regards from Solly,” she said, and continued to fire after it.

The shroud drifted against the wind back out onto the lake.

Against the wind.

The son of a bitch was still alive.

She stumbled after it, splashed into the water, holding the oven clumsily but still firing. The water rose to her thighs and then she stepped in a hole and pitched forward. The microwave went into the water.

She recovered it and lifted it into her arms and tried the remote again. It sizzled and popped and a small cloud of black smoke came out of it.

She dropped the oven, hurried back, and dragged Sheyel out of the water. Then she went into the woods, found Tripley crumpled against a tree, Bricker face down in a small clearing, the remaining guards scattered. All looked dead.

On the lake, the fireflies circled and gained strength.

She collected the Valiant, carried it over to the flyer, and put it in the backseat with the duplicate she’d had made up at Blanche! Preserve.

“Jerry,” she told the AI, “let’s go. Back to the hotel.”

The shroud was re-forming. She watched it grow stronger, brighter, as the flyer rose into the air. To her horror, it detached itself from the lake and began to come after her.

“As fast as we can,” she urged.

They ascended into scattered clouds. The sky was full of moons.

Below, the shroud trailed tendrils as it rose after her. It was adjusting, changing shape, making itself into a sphere. Mist drifted behind it. It looked like a comet.

The thing wants the Valiant. All it cares about is the Valiant.

Were old memories coming back? She was sure it had confused her with Emily. And it had gone quite deliberately for Tripley, who’d been standing harmlessly off to one side. “Jerry,” she said. “Contact Air Rescue.”

“Are we having a difficulty, Dr. Brandywine?”

She had to restrain a near-hysterical response. “Minor problem,” she said.

Jerry opened a channel and a male voice came on. “This is Air Rescue. Please identify yourself.”

“Kim Brandywine. I’m in a Redbird flyer.” Jerry flashed the hull number and aircraft description to them. “We’re in trouble.”

The shroud was coming fast.

“Please state the nature of your emergency, Kim.”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s a little tricky. There are five people dead near the village at Lake Remorse. You won’t have any trouble finding them. There are two flyers with them.”

That got his attention: “What happened to them?” he asked.

The sensors had picked up the shroud, and she watched its marker blinking onscreen.

“They were murdered.”

There was a long silence and then Kim heard a new voice. Female this time. “Kim, this is the supervisor at Air Rescue. Are you reporting a murder?”

“Five murders.”

“Dr. Brandywine,” said Jerry, “we have an energy source in our rear. I am unable to determine its nature.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Kim, please describe your own circumstance and the nature of the emergency. What happened? Are you injured?”

“It’s closing,” said Jerry. “Is it dangerous?”

“Lethal,” said Kim. “Stay ahead of it.”

“We are already approaching maximum velocity.”

“I’m not hurt,” she told Air Rescue. Although her left shoulder was burned and hurt like hell. In addition she’d twisted a knee when she fell with the microwave.

“What happened to the people at the village? Who killed them?”

“It’s still closing,” said Jerry. “At current velocity, it will overtake us in approximately ninety seconds.”

“Can’t we go any faster?”

“We are at maximum thrust, Dr. Brandywine.”

“Air Rescue,” she said, “things are getting a bit busy. If something happens to me, you’ll need to use a microwave.”

“Say again, Kim?”

“Don’t have time.”

“We have a unit lifting off now. Meanwhile, it’ll help us to help you if you can describe your situation. Please try to remain calm.”

Kim killed the radio. “Jerry,” she said, “can we send them a picture of the shroud?”

“Of the what?”

“Of the pursuer.”

“We can do that, Dr. Brandywine.”

“Do it,” she

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