Spares - Michael Marshall Smith [119]
I turned the computer chip over in my hand a few times, and smiled, then slipped it safely into my pocket and went to help Nearly. She was lying spread-eagled on the snow and muttering like a starfish that had been woken up much earlier than it wanted.
“So where the hell are we now?” she demanded as she flapped snow off her clothes. “Kansas?”
“About-half a mile north of Covington Forge,” I said, and she rolled her eyes.
“Back here again. Fun, fun, fun. Maybe we could go to Detroit next. Hey,” she added, peering at Vinaldi’s vehicle. “Is that the truck you got out here in?” The hood of the truck was so completely wound round the tree that for a moment I had a flash-memory of The Gap. It looked like the tree had grown up from beneath, to become part of the car.
“Yes,” Vinaldi said, reaching into the back to pull out a new gun. I guess Yhandim had taken his old one. “But I doubt it’s the way we’re going back.”
“You’re telling me. You guys really did it the hard way. All we had to do was follow some cat.”
“Stay here a moment,” I told them, setting off up the slope.
The cat was cowering in what used to be the control room of the Farm. It ran across the room and into the darkness under a table, so I just sank to my knees and stayed put, hand held out in front of me. While I waited I noticed its bowl over by the wall. There had been food in it, once. The cat made its way over eventually, sniffed my fingers, and decided I was unlikely to give it a hard time. I don’t know how they make that decision, but they generally seem to be right.
I undid the clasp on its leash, picked the cat up and headed for the main door. On the way, I noticed something lying against one of the walls.
It was a piece of machinery, about the size of a car engine but so finely wrought that it looked like a scale model of something larger. It was running, and it answered the question of how Maxen had been able to forge a link back into The Gap. From somewhere he’d laid hands on one of the original sideslipping devices. I thought they’d all been destroyed, but I guess the military isn’t like that. They’d keep cigars in Pandora’s box.
I put the cat down, and shooed it away. Then I pulled my gun out, slammed a full clip into it, and emptied it into the sideslip machine. By the time the ricochet from the last shell had died away and Vinaldi had come running in to see what was happening, it was very clear it would never work again. I felt nothing but relief and the sound of a heavy door slamming shut.
Nearly was standing outside the entrance, stroking the cat’s head and looking cold. I walked over to her and picked the cat up off the ground.
“Somebody’s taken Ghuaji’s car,” Vinaldi said. “I guess Yhandim and the others got out first.”
“We’d better start walking,” I said.
“You are, I take it, kidding?” Nearly inquired, head held sweetly on one side. “I mean, like, ha ha?”
“No,” I said. “And you’d better keep up, or I’ll make you carry the cat.”
We set off down the driveway out of the compound, kicking our way through what had obviously been a heavy twenty-four-hour snow. It’s impossible to describe the difference between walking in The Gap and walking here. It’s like going for a stroll after finishing an exam, even if the world in general is not exactly looking upon you with favor.
We turned the corner into the abandoned road and walked down it, past the remains of the gas pumps and the derelict picnic area. Nearly muttered darkly all the way. I glanced across at the rotted remains of the picnic tables, but there seemed to be nothing there.
“Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” Vinaldi said, startling me.
“Yes,” I answered, taking a deep breath of the crisp air.
“You guys just keep talking in riddles,” Nearly said. “No, seriously, it’s great. Have a good time. I’ll just keep walking through all this fucking snow.”
It was dark by the time