DEADSTOCK

Javier opened the trunk. In it lay the two suitcases. Rather than lift them out, he merely unlocked and raised their lids to give access to their contents.

Before coming here they had already broken the green clay into pieces, rolling them into soft worms. They had molded other chunks into spheres between their palms, like snowballs. Like grenades.

The explosive compound was a "smart material." The primitive mind incorporated into its very substance was receptive to signals transmitted from a little device Javier carried in his pants pocket. The material could be programmed in any number of ways. Different chunks could be detonated individually, like grenades if thrown. Or, all of the material could be made to detonate at once.

Satin was too clumsy for stealthy work, and so he would remain with the hovercar to notify the others by hand phone should a forcer patrol car come nosing around. Also, he and his submachine gun were ready to cover the retreat of the others, should they come ru

The other four wore pouches with shoulder straps, and into these they loaded the balls and worms of green clay. Then, they exchanged grim looks, and scattered into the wet darkness.

Barbie and Theo approached the right side, or B-Wing, of the structure together, each of the opinion they were watching over the other. They squeezed between two hedges, then Theo helped Barbie pull her awkward bulk over the low wall of the ground floor walkway, which corresponded with the two balconies above it. On the other side, they immediately hunkered down and reached into their pouches for the first worms of clay. Wheezing, Barbie pressed hers against the base of one of the black metal doors to the apartments. The dark windows spaced across the building made her nervous. Might a number of Blank People leap out at her at any moment? As she rose to move on a little bit, and plant another piece of explosive putty-Theo doing the same in the opposite direction-she eyed the nearest window more closely. The brows of several of her faces knotted in confusion. Had the window been barricaded? There was something pressed flush against the open frame. She took a step closer, and even started to reach out to touch the barricade but quickly withdrew her hand.

It was a slate-gray material, glossy as plastic, that blocked the window s opening. A wall of living flesh.

Patryk had stolen around to the far side of the building: A-Wing. He, too, began flattening worms of clay against the base of Steward Gardens. He, too, looked up and realized that every open window was blocked by gray flesh. He shuddered, but kept up with his task. This was the thing that had nearly blinded him. The thing they had come here to kill.

Javier had moved to the front of Steward Gardens. He had just positioned a worm of clay against the foundation of the building when his hand phone beeped. He brought it close to his face. "Yeah?" he hissed.

It was Barbie, whispering in blended voices. "Guys, the thing s gotten huge. It s pushed up against all the windows. It s ready to bust out of this place."

Javier studied the windows across the front of the building, noted the way the city s distant lights glistened on the wet dark skin that filled them. "I see it. Looks like we can forget about going inside to plant the rest of the stuff. Just keep moving around the perimeter. Boys, you got that? Do not attempt to go inside."

A pause, and then Patryk joined in the conversation. "Got it."

"If you say so," Theo added.

Javier pocketed the hand phone and scurried to the next position. The numbered black doors had made him nervous, before. He had expected one or more of them to fly open and reveal-what?- standing there. But now he knew there was only more of that gray flesh bulging behind them.

He came to the edge of B-Wing s front, and looked over at the smaller section of the complex that co

He saw the front doors. He saw they stood open. And he saw there was no glossy gray flesh filling the space. The threshold was black, empty. It gave access to the building s interior.

Javier had risen unconsciously from his crouch. He began walking toward the front doors, oblivious to the rain that smashed and soaked him. From his pouch, he extracted a round ball, which he held ready in his right fist. From his pants pocket, his left hand withdrew the remote device. His thumb poised itself over the key that he had programmed for the arming of individual grenades. He pointed the device at the ball in his fist to link them. And kept approaching those gaping front doors.

Once, he had confessed to Mira that as a Folger Street Snarler he had torched cars and abandoned warehouses for a cut of the insurance money. He had always made certain there was no one inside those warehouses, not even a single squatter. So he had done this sort of thing before. But not with this level of equipment, and not with the intent to kill. His heart hammered. He could not calm it this time.

Just paces from the open front doors now, but still he could not see inside. Javier slipped away the remote to trade it for the hand phone. "People," he said into it. "Where are you at?"

"Almost done," Patryk reported.

"Me, too," said Barbie.

"I still got some left," said Theo.

"Just leave the bags with what you have left against the building, and get back to the car," Javier told them. "I ll meet you in a minute."

"Where are you now?" Barbie asked.

"Just go," he commanded.

He switched back the phone for the remote, and then Javier walked the rest of the way to the front doors.

He stood at the very threshold, expecting some trick, some booby-trap to be triggered. This close and he still couldn t see anything at all within the building. He might as well have been looking into the vastness of outer space. Stupid; he had not thought to bring flashlights for them, maybe too afraid that their beams would be seen by cars moving along Beaumonde Street. And just as he thought this, a light came on in the lobby before him. A single, distant and weak emergency light had stuttered into life. Startled, Javier very nearly pressed the button on the remote that would give the grenade a three-second delay for throwing. He took one step inside.

Another step, and he realized that the light was buried like a fly inside amber. The light shone through a translucent wall of flesh; he couldn t yet tell how thick. The flesh formed a tu

On his fourth step, he saw a figure detach itself from the gloom ahead of him. A figure that became a silhouette against the weak, imprisoned light. Javier halted his advance as their two bodies regarded each other.

"Javier," said the figure, so small that it might have been a child. But he knew better than that. He recognized her outline, her proportions, even though her head seemed strangely smooth and hairless.

"Mira!" Javier said. The grenade of his heart had been armed. He almost lunged forward right then and there, to grab her up in his arms and run with her out of this place. He almost burst into tears. She was alive! That monster in the cellar had captured but not killed her, and now she had found her way out! She had been waiting for him, waiting for him to return and take her away from here.

"Javier," she said again, and this time even though he recognized her voice, he realized he was not hearing it with his ears. It was bypassing his ears to go directly to his brain. But she could do that, right? She had her gifts, didn t she? "Don t come any closer," the voice in his mind continued. "I don t want you to see me."