She darted out the door, across the hall, across the large living room. She could see reaction around her, but it was so slow, she knew how fast she must be moving.
But there was noise outside. Motors, vehicles approaching, people shouting. This was what she had distracted attention from. New car people arriving. New car rats on the outside where she had to go. They were already shooting, fighting
with Eli's people. More crossfire for her to be caught in.
She put her back against the wall near the front door and aimed her gun at one of the car rats. "Open this door," she said.
"I can't," he lied. "It needs a special key." It could not have been more obvious to her that he was lying if he had worn a sign.
She fired a short burst, and he fell. Now the screaming inside her returned. She was shooting people, killing people.
She was going to be a doctor someday. Doctors did not kill people; they helped people heal. Her father had carried a gun for years and never shot anyone. He had escaped without shooting anyone.
But she could not.
The instant she showed indecision, weakness, mercy, these people would cut her to pieces. In this room several were as formidably armed as she was. All she had going for her was terrifying speed and perhaps their belief that they would soon be rid of her one way or another without anyone playing hero. Nothing she had ever heard about rat packs gave any indication they were heroic. At best, they mistook ruthlessness for heroism.
"Open the door," she said to a second man. He stumbled quickly to obey.
"You!" she chose a third. "Help him!" "He doesn't need any hel- No!"
She had come within a hair of shooting him. He scurried to the first man, then stood by while the first opened the door. Of course, the instant the door moved, Eli's people opened fire at it. Someone-one of the new group of car rats, perhaps- managed to run onto the porch, but did not quite make it to the door.
Rane heard all this as she ran from the room. She had never intended to step into the battle at the front of the house. She would never have headed for the front if she had known what was going on there. Once there, however, she had to create a diversion so that she could get to the back door.
Someone shot at her as she ran, but she was too quick. In the kitchen, she stopped, turned, fired a short burst at the door she had just run through. That should stop any pursuit. She hesitated, saw a flash of color at the door, sprayed the doorway again. Then she went to the back door. If it required a key, she might be trapped. That depended on how thoroughly bulletproof the house was.
Her hand flew over the various locks that did not require keys. She had to shoot the last one off, though at least it came off. As she fired, however, someone else fired at her, hit her in the lower back.
She fell to her knees, tried to swing around, but was shot again. This time, the impact of the bullet spun her around. She held on to her rifle somehow and managed to spray the other side of the room. She heard screaming, knew she had hit
something.
She released the trigger only when, briefly, through a haze, she thought she saw her sister staring at her over a counter, through a doorway. Then, because she was propped up against the door, unable to move her legs-unable even to feel her legs, she sprayed the last of her bullets into the car rats as they showed themselves. She had the satisfaction of seeing the ape fall before someone shot her again.
The disease organism was merciless. It kept her alive even when she knew she must be almost cut in half. It kept her conscious and aware of everything up through the moment someone stood over her, shouting, then seized her by the hair and held her head up as he began to saw slowly at her throat with something dull.
PAST 27
The women had become frightened of Eli-frightened for their children. Gwyn's daughter by Eli was beginning to toddle around on all fours and Lorene's daughter by Zeriam clearly had the same physical abnormalities. She would be another quadruped, another precocious, strong, beautiful, little nonhuman. Eli could see that. He watched the children in grim silence.
The women sat Eli down and talked to him. Gwyn spoke for them all for a change while Meda sat withdrawn and silent.
"We don't like being afraid of you," Gwyn said, leaning forward against the dining table around which they had gathered. "We need you." She glanced sideways at Meda. "And we love you. But we're afraid."
"Afraid of what?" he demanded harshly. He did not care what the women had to say. His own misery over the children consumed him.
"You know of what," Gwyn said. "Even the kids know. They don't understand, but they're scared to death of you."
He stared at her in bitter anger. She had brought the others together against him. They had never united against him before. He was father or foster father to all three kids-all three hopelessly nonhuman kids. No one had the right to tell him how he should reel about them.
"Eli, you love them," Meda whispered finally. "You love them all. You'd have to go against your deepest feelings to hurt them."
"We won't let you hurt them," Lorene said.
"We can't change them," Gwyn said. "And no matter how you feel ... if you try to hurt them, we'll kill you."
Eli stared at her, amazed. She was the gentlest of the three women, the one most likely to need reassurance and want protection.
"We will kill you," she repeated very softly. She did not flinch from his gaze. He looked at Meda and Lorene and saw
Gwyn's feelings mirrored in their faces.
He reached across the table, took Gwyn's hands. "I can't help what I feel," he said. "I know it hurts you. It hurts me. But-"
"It scares us!"
"I know." He paused. "What in this world is going to happen to kids with human minds and four legs? Think about it!" "Who says they have human minds?" Meda asked.
Eli glared at her.
"They're obviously bright," she said, "but their minds may be as different as their bodies. We can teach them, but we can't know ahead of time what they'll become."
"No," he said. "We can't. But we know the world they'll have to spend their lives in. And I know what their lives will be like if they can't fit in-and, of course, there's no way they can fit in. You think sewers and cesspools are bad? Try a cage. Bars, you know. Locks."
"Nobody would-"
"Shit! They're not going to be cute little kids forever. To other people, they wouldn't look like cute little kids now. And we're not going to live forever to protect them."
The women stared at him bleakly.
"I'll tell you something else," he said. "These kids are only the first. You know there'll be more. If anything happened to me, you'd go out and find yourselves another man or two. Hell, you'll do that even if nothing happens to me. We'll probably bring in more women, too. Our organism won't let us ignore all those uninfected people out there completely."
No one contradicted him. The women could feel the truth of what he was saying as intensely as he could.
"What are we doing?" Lorene whispered. "What are we creating?"
Eli leaned back, eyes closed. "That's what I've been asking myself," he said. "I've got an answer now."
They all faced him, waiting. He realized then that he loved them. He wondered when he had begun to love them-three plain women with calluses on their hands. Answering them would not be an act of love, but it was necessary. If anyone deserved to know what he thought, they did. "We're the future," he said simply. "We're the sporangia of the dominant