Where should I try to board? It depended on where the crew had located itself, a thing I hoped to discern when the unscheduled stop occurred. It would be nice to ride in one of the passenger cars, though.
It was too soon to program in the stop. Some overzealous employee could theoretically spot it if I fooled with the train’s computer too far in advance. I sat listening to the birds and watching a few clouds rise in the east. I thought of possible courses of action I might take further along the line. I thought about Cora…
I felt the vibrations of the first train a long way off. I watched it when it finally roared by, and I listened to its rumbling fade again in the distance. I checked back and found that the others were still scheduled as they had been. For a second—just a bare second—as I did this, it seemed that I felt that shadowy presence once again, regarding me. I withdrew quickly and continued to brood upon the future.
After a time, I dozed. I was awakened by the approach of the second train. The sun had moved farther into the west. There was a certain stiffness in my knees and shoulders. My mouth had grown dry.
I stretched and cracked my joints and watched the other train pass. I checked once more after the freighter. On its way now, still on schedule, no changes. I programmed in the stop, using the nearest electrical mileage-marker as a guide. I wished that I had had the foresight to buy a few candy bars and a can of soda at the place back on campus. I chewed a blade of grass and tried to recall the last time I had ridden on a train.
When it did finally arrive it began to slow on schedule. There came a squealing noise as brakes were applied, and the ground shuddered. The engine drifted past me, slowing, slowing. Several cars went on by, still slowing, and finally the entire procession ground to a halt. It stood there in the long shadows, shuddering, while I readied myself for a dash.
I heard voices to my left. A man was climbing down from the caboose. Another followed him. The second one turned to shout something to a third person who remained aboard. The two on the ground conferred for a time, then split up and moved forward, passing along both sides of the train.
I coiled into the computer. Someone was querying it concerning the stop at the moment I entered into it. The one who remained behind, I decided, was checking the systems while the others looked for some external cause for the halt.
The man on my side of the train peered between the cars and looked beneath each one as he passed, apparently determined to eyeball the situation all the way up to the engine. I caused the doors of the nearest passenger car to open, dashed across, entered and released them immediately.
There followed a long wait, as I wondered whether I had been seen. My car was dark inside, as were the other two. I crouched low in one of the seats and stared out of the window. After a number of minutes had passed, I breathed a little more easily. Still, it was another good ten minutes before I heard the crunch of gravel along the side to my right. I crouched even lower and waited for it to pass. I continued to wait. Shortly, the other passed on my left.
I sighed, and some of the tension went out of me. I checked the computer again. I did not relax completely until a “Hold” order was removed and the train gave a lurch. Slowly, we ground forward. The motion grew more even, we began to pick up speed. I sat up straight again.
When our speed grew uniform, I rose and inspected all three cars. I decided to locate myself in the most forward one, so that I might hear the sounds of anyone approaching from the rear. I was not sure that I would be able to, over all of the other noises, but it made me feel a little safer.
Then I settled myself and clicked, ticked and dericked my way back into the central computer for the region, where I removed all memory of the train’s unscheduled halt and replaced it with the simple fact that we were running late. I watched the correction order formulated and transmitted. I felt the train pick up speed as the adjustment was made. If no human observer had spotted the situation before I’d cleaned it up, I was relatively safe. I felt that I was learning to mask myself properly.
I watched the countryside roll past me. This far, this far now I had made it. I began to feel that I had a small chance.
“Cora, I’m coming,” I said.
The wheels chuckled mechanically. The sun plunged toward another extinction, above my goal.
Chapter 12
The telegraphic ragtime of the clicking wheels lulled me. I was not sleepy, having rested sufficiently while I awaited the train. But a kind of mental numbness came over me and my limbs felt heavy. It was a reaction, I suppose, to the furious pace of the past several days. Too many events, crowded too closely together. I had burned a lot of adrenalin, lived and relived a lot of trauma. I knew that there was more to come, but my mind rebelled at considering it I just wanted to sit there, thinking of nothing, watching the dark countryside pass. For a long while, this is exactly what I did.
I had my hands clasped behind my head and my feet stretched out before me.
As to how much time had passed since I’d boarded, I was uncertain. I was for a time simply enjoying the great Taoist principle of wu wei—doing nothing—when suddenly I was in a garden. It seemed an awkward time for Enlightenment to have been thrust suddenly upon me, and so I was immediately wary.
There were vivid images of flowers all about me and a mixture of their fragrances came strongly to me. Despite my wariness I was, for several moments, overwhelmed. It was a senses-assaulting floral chaos.
“Ann?” I said, seeking stability. “What is it this time?”
But there was nothing more—only the maddening riot of colors and aromas, changing now as if a bizarre kaleidoscope were being slowly turned.
Then a voiceless note of fear burst forth, filling my brain. I felt Ann’s presence behind it, though it seemed as if only a part of her attention were turned in my direction.
“Ann?”
“Yes. Troubles,” I seemed to hear her say, and then there was a vague sensation of pain.
Abruptly, the flowers began to fade, the aromas grew more delicate…
“…Hurts. There! Stopped him!”
“Ann! What the hell’s going on?”
“He’s here… Willy Boy’s come for me.”
And then there was a rearrangement of my senses. I was with her, in a way we had shared only a few times in the past. I found myself a guest within her mind, looking out through her eyes, listening with her ears, feeling her physical distress…
We were in an apartment, a fairly large one. I had no idea where it was located. Peripheral vision showed me that it was elegantly furnished, but our gaze was fixed upon Willy Boy, who leaned against the wall in an entranceway, a wide living room away from us. He was slightly hunched and breathing heavily. A half-wall separated us from what seemed to be a small kitchen area. To the right, a large window looked out upon a brightly lit skyline I could not identify—though I felt it was somewhere in the East. Off in the distance was her computer-cum-telephone-etcetera, or “home unit” as almost everyone called them these days. We stood before a light brown leather sofa, leaning upon a Moroccan table. There was a pain in our chest, but we were giving as well as receiving.
“Sister, I can see your point,” Willy Boy was saying, “but you’re only delayin’ things, that’s all.”
Ann threw more force into the hallucination she was creating for him. She was causing him to experience violent chest pains, apparently as real-seeming to him as the actual ones he had commenced within her. He seemed to find it very distracting. He had just let up on his own efforts, giving her a few moments to go looking for me, to bring me to her.