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She
stirred
in
her
sleep
,
called
something
out
,
drawing
a
scrap
of
blanket
across
her
shoulder
and
cheek
.
'
You
aren
’
t
anything
,
’
he
said
to
the
sleeping
girl
.
'
You
’
re
dead
and
you
meant
fuck
-
all
to
me
anyway
.
Hear
that
,
buddy
?
I
know
what
you
’
re
doing
.
I
’
m
flatlined
.
This
has
all
taken
about
twenty
seconds
,
right
?
I
’
m
out
on
my
ass
in
that
library
and
my
brain
’
s
dead
.
And
pretty
soon
it
’
ll
bedead
,
if
you
got
any
sense
.
You
don
’
t
want
Wintermute
to
pull
his
scam
off
,
is
all
,
so
you
can
just
hang
me
up
here
.
Dixie
’
ll
run
Kuang
,
but
his
ass
is
dead
and
you
can
second
guess
his
moves
,
sure
.
This
Linda
shit
,
yeah
,
that
’
s
all
been
you
,
hasn
’
t
it
?
Wintermute
tried
to
use
her
when
he
sucked
me
into
the
Chiba
construct
,
but
he
couldn
’
t
.
Said
it
was
too
tricky
.
That
was
you
moved
the
stars
around
in
Freeside
,
wasn
’
t
it
?
That
was
you
put
her
face
on
the
dead
puppet
in
Ashpool
’
s
room
.
Molly
never
saw
that
.
You
just
edited
her
simstim
signal
.
’
Cause
you
think
you
can
hurt
me
.
’
Cause
you
think
I
gave
a
shit
.
Well
,
fuck
you
,
whatever
you
’
re
called
.
You
won
.
You
win
.
But
none
of
it
means
anything
to
me
now
,
right
?
Think
I
care
?
So
why
’
d
you
do
it
to
me
this
way
?
’
He
was
shaking
again
,
his
voice
shrill
.
'
Honey
,
’
she
said
,
twisting
up
from
the
rags
of
blankets
,
'
you
come
here
and
sleep
.
I
’
ll
sit
up
,
you
want
.
You
gotta
sleep
,
okay
?
’
Her
soft
accent
was
exaggerated
with
sleep
.
'
You
just
sleep
,
okay
?
’
When
he
woke
,
she
was
gone
.
The
fire
was
dead
,
but
it
was
warm
in
the
bunker
,
sunlight
slanting
through
the
doorway
to
throw
a
crooked
rectangle
of
gold
on
the
ripped
side
of
a
fat
fiber
canister
.
The
thing
was
a
shipping
container
,
he
remembered
them
from
the
Chiba
docks
.
Through
the
rent
in
its
side
,
he
could
see
half
a
dozen
bright
yellow
packets
.
In
the
sunlight
,
they
looked
like
giant
pats
of
butter
.
His
stomach
tightened
with
hunger
.
Rolling
out
of
the
nest
,
he
went
to
the
canister
and
fished
one
of
the
things
out
,
blinking
at
small
print
in
a
dozen
languages
.
The
English
was
on
the
bottom
.
EMERG
.
RATION
,
HI
-
PRO
,
'
BEEF
’
,
TYPE
AG
-
8
.
A
listing
of
nutritive
content
.
He
fumbled
a
second
one
out
.
'
EGGS
’
.
'
If
you
’
re
making
this
shit
up
,
’
he
said
,
'
you
could
lay
on
some
real
food
,
okay
?
’
With
a
packet
in
either
hand
,
he
made
his
way
through
the
structure
’
s
four
rooms
.
Two
were
empty
,
aside
from
drifts
of
sand
,
and
the
fourth
held
three
more
of
the
ration
canisters
.
'
Sure
,
’
he
said
touching
the
seals
.
'
Stay
here
a
long
time
.
I
get
the
idea
.
Sure
.
.
.
’
He
searched
the
room
with
the
fireplace
,
finding
a
plastic
canister
filled
with
what
he
assumed
was
rainwater
.
Beside
the
nest
of
blankets
,
against
the
wall
,
lay
a
cheap
red
lighter
,
a
seaman
’
s
knife
with
a
cracked
green
handle
,
and
her
scarf
.
It
was
still
knotted
,
and
stiff
with
sweat
and
dirt
.
He
used
the
knife
to
open
the
yellow
packets
,
dumping
their
contents
into
a
rusted
can
that
he
found
beside
the
stove
.
He
dipped
water
from
the
canister
,
mixed
the
resulting
mush
with
his
fingers
,
and
ate
.
It
tasted
vaguely
like
beef
.
When
it
was
gone
,
he
tossed
the
can
into
the
fireplace
and
went
out
.
Late
afternoon
,
by
the
feel
of
the
sun
,
its
angle
.
He
kicked
off
his
damp
nylon
shoes
and
was
startled
by
the
warmth
of
the
sand
.
In
daylight
,
the
beach
was
silver
-
gray
.
The
sky
was
cloudless
,
blue
.
He
rounded
the
corner
of
the
bunker
and
walked
toward
the
surf
,
dropping
his
jacket
on
the
sand
.
'
Dunno
whose
memories
you
’
re
using
for
this
one
,
’
he
said
when
he
reached
the
water
.
He
peeled
off
his
jeans
and
kicked
them
into
the
shallow
surf
,
following
them
with
t
-
shirt
and
underwear
.
'
What
you
doin
’
,
Case
?
’
He
turned
and
found
her
ten
meters
down
the
beach
,
the
white
foam
sliding
past
her
ankles
.
