World's End

Page 155

"Tell him it was ruined. He trusts you."

SB grimaces. But then he nods, and hands me the gun.

"If you can find a powerpack maybe you'll stay free a little longer, anyway."

"Long enough to get us all out of here." I fight down a wave of sickening self-doubt. "I will--!" I push the gun through my belt, covering it with my jerkin.

SB glances from side to side, his hands clenching.

"Yes, by all the gods! You can do it, BZ. Get us out of here. We'll steal a flyer. We can do it now, before Anubah

--"

194

WORLD S END

"No. I have to ... I have to ... find ..." I stumble over words as the Lake pours its anguish into me. "I can't leave

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yet ... I have to find ... I don't know why yet. . . ."

"What's the matter with you?" SB shouts. He slaps me. "Goddamn you, forget about Song.

We're your brothers! She's nothing but a lunatic."

I climb to my feet, rubbing my face. He grabs at my clothes as I rise, trying to hold on to me. I jerk free as HK

comes up behind me. HK stops uncertainly, his face running with sweat. Suddenly the watch begins to chime in my belt pouch.

"My watch," HK murmurs, when the chiming stops.

"You found my watch." He reaches out, pawing at my belt. "Let me see it. Let me have it--"

I slap his hand away. "You lost it. I got it back. It's mine now." I look down, touching the pouch.

"It was never yours to begin with."

His face crumples. "But it was all I had left."

"You've still got your life." I glance at SB. "I'll be back.

I've always done my duty."

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I make my way through the tumbled, stone- and rubbish-choked passages between buildings, out Page 156

into an open square where I can get my bearings. I start upward, climbing ladders and steps, toward the heights where Song's tower lies. I will go there and wait for her. I try not to think about what will happen then;

afraid of the Lake's response, when it knows my every thought. . . .

I turn a corner and collide with another body; curses wrench me back into the present. "You son of a bitch--"

the stranger says. He breaks off, shaking his head.

"Whose are you?" he says, his eyes narrowing as he looks me over, and doesn't see a weapon.

His voice is slurry with drink or drugs; his eyes are bloodshot.

For a moment I don't realize what he's asked. "I'm nobody's . . . I'm a sibyl." I touch my trefoil.

195

JOAN D. VINGE

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His face turns greedy instead of afraid. "Then I can use you."

"I belong to the Lake!" I say. "I have Song's protection."

"She didn't tell me that." He laughs, and there is a knife in his hand. He flashes it at me almost carelessly.

"Come on, pilgrim." His other hand closes over my arm, twisting it.

I bring my knee up into his groin; he bellows with pain and drops the knife. I break his grip on me and pull the beamer out of my belt.

He stares at it stupidly, as if I'd done magic like Song.

I am a victim, a slave; he can't believe that I am defying him.

I pick up the knife. "I'm doing you a favor," I say, before he can start to think. "I told you I belong to the

Lake. I could have torn you apart--"

He frowns uncertainly, still hunched over with pain.

"Come after me and I will," I finish, telling him something

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I'm sure he'll understand. I turn my back and walk on, trying to listen through the muttering of my voices for any motion behind me. But he doesn't follow. As I put another block of buildings between us I begin to breathe again. Now I wear the gun and the knife openly, as well as the trefoil, realizing that SB is right--my luck is running out. I walk faster.