Страница 54 из 86
<p> “When did this happen?”</p>
<p> “Just before-” She stopped herself, frowned, and edited. “Before you lost your memory. You drove it on the East Coast. You took a plane from there to Arizona, so it’s been sitting in a parking lot, waiting for you.”</p>
<p> “And you…had it driven here?” We were at the car now, and I ran my hand lightly over the immaculate, polished finish. Not so much as a bug splatter on its surface anywhere. “You get it detailed, too?”</p>
<p> Ve
<p> I wondered if my real daughter had ever been in this car. I could almost imagine her sitting there…</p>
<p> “Better hurry,” Ve
<p> I got in and turned the key that was already in the ignition.</p>
<p> Peeling out and spraying gravel wasn’t a skill I’d lost with my memory.</p>
<p> It didn’t give me much comfort when I looked in my rearview mirror and found a white van pulling out of a parking lot and quietly, tenaciously following.</p>
<empty-line/>
<p> “I need a plan,” I said to Ve
<p> “You can’t,” she said simply. “Your memory belongs to <i>her</i> now. And you don’t want to try to get it back. She’ll kill you. The only way to make this right is to get Ashan to go back to the Oracle.”</p>
<p> We were about fifteen minutes out from the beach, and I was just driving, with no clear idea of where we were heading. The steady rumble of the car gave me a feeling of being in control at last, and I thought that I might be happy if I could just drive forever. Or at least, until my problems went away.</p>
<p> The white van, for instance. It didn’t seem inclined to vanish on my say-so, however. It kept a steady three-car distance from me, not really hiding, but not really making itself known, either. Too far back for me to catch sight of the driver.</p>
<p> “Ashan has my memories.”</p>
<p> “No. He…” Ve
<p> “But Ashan…he’s not a Dji
<p> “No,” she said. “Not anymore.” For a brief second Ve
<p> “Me?” I asked, startled.</p>
<p> “Humans. Maybe not as much as she loves us, because she understands us a little better. But she’s fond of you, too, in a way.” She shrugged. “He blames you. You made her understand that humans weren’t intending to hurt her.”</p>
<p> “<i>I</i> did.”</p>
<p> “Yes. You.”</p>
<p> “And by Mother, you mean…”</p>
<p> “Earth,” she said. “Mother Earth, of course.”</p>
<p> I decided to stick to driving. “Where am I going?” I asked. “If we’re heading for Ashan?”</p>
<p> “I have him safe.” Ve
<p> “Was that a joke?”</p>
<p> Ve
<p> “What do we do when we get there?” I asked. “I’m not killing anybody, Ve
<p> “I wouldn’t let you,” she said. “Although if you knew Ashan, you’d probably want to… What do you want me to do about the man following us?”</p>
<p> “You noticed.” She gave a little snort of agreement. I supposed it wasn’t exactly beyond her capabilities. “Do you know who it is?”</p>
<p> “Yes,” she said. I waited. She waited right back.</p>
<p> I gave her a hard look. Which was just a little bit hilarious, admittedly; I was giving <i>her</i> a hard look? As far as I could tell, Ve
<p> “I don’t have to,” she said. “You’ll have to stop soon. When you do, you’ll find out.”</p>
<p> She seemed smug about it. I gave her another completely ineffective glare, and checked my gas gauge. Still nearly full. Why in the world would I have to stop…?</p>
<p> The back left tire blew out with a jolt and a sound like a brick slapping the undercarriage of the car, and I cursed, fought the wheel, and limped the Camaro over to the shoulder of the road. The uneven <i>thump thump thump</i> made it clear that we weren’t going to do any quick getaways.</p>
<p> “Fix it,” I said to Ve
<p> “You have a spare tire,” she said. “I’ll wait here.”</p>
<p> I cursed under my breath, opened the door, popped the trunk, and unloaded the jack, spare tire, and other various roadside disaster tools. I was evidently no stranger to mechanical work, but I wasn’t in the mood, dammit. I had the lug nuts loosened in record time, but as I was jacking up the car with vicious jerks of the handle, I saw a sparkle of glass behind us, and the white van glided over the hill…slowing down.</p>
<p> <i>Shit.</i></p>
<p> “Hey, Ve
<p> She rolled up the window.</p>
<p> “Perfect.” I sighed. “Just perfect.” I went back to cranking the jack, grimly focused on the job at hand but keeping at least half of my attention-the paranoid half-on the van as it crawled and crunched its way slowly toward me. The brakes squealed slightly as it stopped.</p>
<p> I couldn’t see a damn thing through the tinted windows, and I was suddenly very glad of the tire iron in my hand.</p>
<p> And then the doors on both sides of the van opened at once, and people got out. The woman was young, toned, and well coiffed. She had a microphone. Behind her, in a flying wedge, came a fat guy with a camera and a ski
<p> “You’ve <i>got</i> to be kidding me,” I said, and stared, paralyzed, while they moved purposefully in my direction. “Holy crap.”</p>
<p> “Joa