The Mammoth Book of Apocalyptic SF - Mike Ashley [197]
I sat with Danny. The silence was broken by the drone of the engine as Kat kicked the truck into life.
I said, "What do you think?"
Danny rubbed his beard. "I think we trust no one but ourselves, Pierre. We keep Samara at arm's length, and as for Skull-" "Yes?" "As Edvard said yesterday, I don't trust him as far as I can spit."
I moved to the rear of the truck and sat before an observation screen, staring out across the sea-bed. Through the sandy spindrift of our wake, I made out the scintillating shape of the hovercraft. It was perhaps half a kilometre behind us, and keeping pace.
For the next couple of hours before sunset, my thoughts slipped between Skull's warning and fantasies involving Samara. I interpreted the way she looked at me as indicating desire on her part, and told myself that her henchmen were less than prime physical specimens.
The sun went down, replaced by the deep blue of night shot through with the raging flares of magnetic storms. Kat brought the truck to a standstill and Edvard fixed a meal.
The hovercraft slowed and came alongside, sinking to the sand a hundred metres from us with a curtsey of rubber skirts.
I moved to the lounge and joined Danny and Kat. Edvard ferried plates from the galley and slid them onto the table. The heady scent of braised meat filled the air.
We ate quietly, subdued. Danny had told Edvard and Kat about the travel pact with Samara, and from time to time I saw Kat glance through the hatch at the settled hovercraft across the sand.
I said, "What do we do when we get to the trench?"
Danny chewed on a mouthful of tough meat. "We stop."
"But we don't set up the rig, right?"
"Of course not. I don't want her knowing anything about the rig. We stop the night and in the morning feign a mechanical fault. And if she doesn't go on without us, then we know she wants something."
"Skull?" Kat said.
"And maybe the rest of us," Danny said in a low voice.
Five minutes later Skull emerged from his berth. I was waiting for his reaction when he saw the hovercraft, but evidently he was already aware of its presence. He said, "You see, she's following us. She knows I'm here. Tonight, they'll come across ... " He seemed resigned to his fate, no longer angry.
Danny said, "You don't know that. Anyway, the truck's secure."
Skull considered a reply, but merely nodded his acknowledgment of Danny's words, grabbed his bowl of food and returned to his berth.
We finished the meal in uneasy silence.
Later I took my rifle outside, broke up the surface crust, and scooped myself a hollow in the sand beneath.
The hovercraft squatted a hundred metres away, an ugly beetle armoured in a patchwork of solar arrays. Evidently the crew had exited and were having a party on the far side of the vehicle. I heard the sound of drunken voices, raised in revelry.
I undressed and rubbed myself with sand, ridding myself of the day's sweat and grime. I lay back and closed my eyes.
Minutes later a sound startled me. I opened my eyes. Someone had cracked a hatch on the flank of the hovercraft and was crossing the sand towards the truck. I judged I had no time to get dressed before they arrived, so instead reached out and grabbed the rifle.
Then I paddled a heap of sand onto my groin, covering myself.
I stared into the darkness, making out the figure as it emerged into the light falling from the lounge behind me, and I set aside the rifle.
Samara halted about three metres away, smiling down at me. She had discarded her shorts and blouse of earlier. Now she wore a thin white dress which hugged her chest, flanks and belly and flowed around her bare legs.
And there was something else about her, something I had not noticed on our first meeting. She smelled of flowers.
My heart banged like a faulty engine.
She moved closer and knelt, tossing a strand of dark hair from