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She
moved
towards
me
.
"
Would
you
like
—
"
"
No
,
it
’
s
quite
all
right
.
I
’
ll
see
myself
out
.
"
The
walk
out
of
the
chart
room
seemed
to
take
forever
,
and
my
footsteps
had
developed
a
sudden
echo
inside
my
skull
.
With
every
step
,
and
with
every
displayed
map
that
I
passed
I
felt
those
ancient
eyes
on
my
spine
,
watching
.
I
badly
needed
a
cigarette
.
The
sky
was
the
texture
of
old
silver
and
the
lights
were
coming
on
across
Bay
City
by
the
time
Bancroft
’
s
chauffeur
got
me
back
to
town
.
We
spiralled
in
from
the
sea
over
an
ancient
suspension
bridge
the
colour
of
rust
,
and
in
amongst
the
heaped
-
up
buildings
of
a
peninsula
hill
at
more
than
advisable
speed
.
Curtis
the
chauffeur
was
still
smarting
from
his
summary
detainment
by
the
police
.
He
’
d
only
been
out
of
arrest
a
couple
of
hours
when
Bancroft
asked
him
to
run
me
back
,
and
he
’
d
been
sullen
and
uncommunicative
on
the
journey
.
He
was
a
muscular
young
man
whose
boyish
good
looks
lent
themselves
well
to
brooding
.
My
guess
was
that
employees
of
Laurens
Bancroft
were
unused
to
government
minions
interrupting
their
duties
.
I
didn
’
t
complain
.
My
own
mood
wasn
’
t
far
off
matching
the
chauffeur
’
s
.
Images
of
Sarah
’
s
death
kept
creeping
into
my
mind
.
It
had
only
happened
last
night
.
Subjectively
.
We
braked
in
the
sky
over
a
wide
thoroughfare
,
sharply
enough
for
someone
above
us
to
broadcast
an
outraged
proximity
squawk
into
the
limousine
’
s
comset
.
Curtis
cut
off
the
signal
with
a
slap
of
one
hand
across
the
console
and
his
face
tilted
up
to
glower
dangerously
through
the
roof
window
.
We
settled
down
into
the
flow
of
ground
traffic
with
a
slight
bump
and
immediately
made
a
left
into
a
narrower
street
.
I
started
to
take
an
interest
in
what
was
outside
.
There
’
s
a
sameness
to
streetlife
.
On
every
world
I
’
ve
ever
been
,
the
same
underlying
patterns
play
out
,
flaunt
and
vaunt
,
buy
and
sell
,
like
some
distilled
essence
of
human
behaviour
seeping
out
from
under
whatever
clanking
political
machine
has
been
dropped
on
it
from
above
.
Bay
City
,
Earth
,
most
ancient
of
civilised
worlds
,
had
won
itself
no
exemptions
.
From
the
massive
insubstantial
holofronts
along
the
antique
buildings
to
the
street
traders
with
their
catalogue
broadcast
sets
nestling
on
shoulders
like
clumsy
mechanical
hawks
or
outsize
tumours
,
everyone
was
selling
something
.
Cars
pulled
in
and
out
from
the
kerbside
and
supple
bodies
braced
against
them
,
leaning
in
to
negotiate
the
way
they
’
ve
probably
been
doing
as
long
as
there
’
ve
been
cars
to
do
it
against
.
Shreds
of
steam
and
smoke
drifted
from
food
barrows
.
The
limo
was
sound
-
and
broadcast
-
proofed
,
but
you
could
sense
the
noises
through
the
glass
,
corner
-
pitch
sales
chants
and
modulated
music
carrying
consumer
-
urge
subsonics
.
In
the
Envoy
Corps
,
they
reverse
humanity
.
You
see
the
sameness
first
,
the
underlying
resonance
that
lets
you
get
a
handle
on
where
you
are
,
then
you
build
up
difference
from
the
details
.
