Dayworld

The two SCC-men did not seem to hear the shouts. They had retracted the cart wheels and lifted it between them and were shoving it into the van. Dunski started ru

By then, the shouting man was near enough so that the SCCs could hear him against the west wind and the quickly descending thunder and lightning. They turned toward him. At the same time, the bicyclist straightened up, and white teeth flashed in a grin or a snarl. His right hand came up from his belt holding a gun. It rose swiftly, steadied, and man-made lightning spat whitely from him to the nearest armed man. The distance was about sixty feet, which meant that the ray had lost much of its deadliness. The charging man, however, fell on his face and slid on the rain-slicked pavement for a few feet. His weapon rang as it struck and bounced away from him. He did not try to get up; he lay quivering on the street.

The other armed immer shot once and missed, the white beam passing just behind the bicyclist's back. Laughing so loudly that he could be heard above the crashing of the storm, the bicyclist shot again. The beam half-cut the leg off the immer just above the knee.

Dunski screamed, "Castor!"

The two SCCs ran to the front of the van, leaving the back doors open. Gaunt stepped out of the building door, his weapon in his hand. He was shielded from Castor's view, but he also could not see Castor. Then Castor had sped beyond the van. Dunski, Gaunt, and Castor shot simultaneously. Because Castor had breaked his vehicle somewhat, the beams aimed at him crossed and neutralized each other. The slowing down and slight skidding spoiled Castor's aim. Dunski threw himself to one side, pressing the firing button again as he fell. The beam struck the sidewalk, hissing.

Castor was crazy, but he was cool. Seeing Dunski fall and thus knowing that he would be out of action for several seconds, he aimed at Gaunt. Their beams struck and canceled each other. Castor did not make the mistake of Gaunt, who had released his button, and then pressed it again. Castor kept the beam on, though that drained the weapon's powerpak quickly. His beam, unhindered, burned through Gaunt's belly. Gaunt dropped his gun, clutched his belly and fell backward, his head striking the side of the building.

By then Dunski had rolled twice and come up on his stomach, elbows on the pavement, both hands clutching the gun. He fired. Lightning, Nature's, not man's, smashed into the street near the yard of the building across the street. Another bolt split an oak tree in half.

Both SCC-men had jumped out of the van with guns. Dunski saw all this just before the flash dazzled him and the explosion of electricity deafened him. For a moment, he thought that he was struck. The weapon play had not scared him because it had taken place so swiftly. The lightning stroke terrified him, boiling out in him all the fear and helplessness that human beings have felt since they were cavemen and the wrath of the gods was loosed in the skies.

During Dunski's brief paralysis, Castor scrambled up from the pavement where he had fallen off his bicycle. He got down on his hands and knees again and groped for his gun. The SCC-man nearest him seemed to be stu

The other man also held his firing button, but, a third time, the two beams crossed. Now Castor had stopped rolling, and his beam slid to one side, jerked back and caught his enemy in the eyes. Screaming, the man dropped his weapon, clutched his eyes and staggered off.

Yelling exultantly, Castor, still on the ground, aimed his weapon at the ru

His breath grating, Dunski ran at an angle, knowing that he would have to get into the street before Castor picked up the weapon dropped by the first SCC-man he had shot. He got to the corner of the van just as Castor was rising after reaching out from the protection of the rear wheel to grab the gun. Dunski smashed into him and knocked him backward, though he fell on top of him.

Castor's breath went out of him in a big oof. Lightning struck somewhere down the street. Castor grabbed Dunski's wrist and turned it savagely. The gun fell from Dunski's hand, but he did not try to regain it. Shouting, he grabbed Castor's throat. Castor screamed, "Now I have you in my power! God will not be denied!"

Though he was choking, Castor's hands closed around Dunski's throat. Dunski let Castor loose and tore himself away. He got to his feet before Castor did, and he charged, knocking him down again. He picked Castor up by the neck and shook him, then ran him against the side of the van. Castor slumped. Dunski held him up with one hand and slammed the base of the palm of his left hand again and again on Castor's chin. He kept driving the back of Castor's head against the van until his arm was too weary to lift.

Finally, gasping as if all air had suddenly been taken from the face of Earth, he dropped Castor onto the pavement.

God was dead.

Dunski shook uncontrollably. He would have liked to lie down on the street and let the rain and lightning do what they would with him. It seemed to be the best bed in the world, the most desirable of all desires and an utter necessity. But . there was always a but ... he could not do what he most wanted to do.

People were coming from the building near him and from across the street, despite the almost solid rain and the lightning still smashing nearby. Some would have called the organics. He had to get away. Now.

He staggered around the van, stopped halfway to the driver's seat, turned, staggered back to his gun, picked it up, started away, turned again, and picked up his shoulderbag, which had dropped offjust before he had charged around the corner of the van into Castor. After picking up the gun dropped by the SCC-man, he set its charge to BURN and fried the skin bearing his fingermarks on Castor's neck. He closed the back doors of the van, got wearily into the front seat, breathing as if a knife were cutting his throat, and drove off.

No one tried to stop him.

Though he wanted to turn left onto West Fourth so that the witnesses would tell the orgaсics that he had gone that way, he did not. Sheridan Square was too close in that direction. There were usually some organics there. He drove to the right from Jones Street, passed Cornelia, and went over the bridge above the Kropotkin Canal. He had to get out of the van very quickly, but he also had to hide Snick someplace. If he did one, he could not do the other.