When she was finished she dropped back onto the floor. Amid the debris, she saw a woman’s shoe. It was impossible to know what color it had originally been, but it had a curious kind of fibrous sole, unlike any she’d seen before.
What was it?
She put it into her utility bag.
“Kim.” Solly’s voice betrayed impatience. “Are we ready yet?”
“Coming up,” she said.
He provided light, angling his lamp so it wouldn’t be in her eyes, told her to be careful, and appeared to be holding his breath, waiting for the staircase to collapse. She was about halfway up when a support broke and the whole structure dropped a few centimeters. She grabbed for the rail. He leaned forward as if to come to her aid but instantly thought better of adding his weight to hers. In that moment her own lamp silhouetted him, and she saw something draw back into the darkness.
She froze, the swaying staircase forgotten.
“Take your time,” said Solly.
She was sure she had seen it.
A piece of the darkness that infested the house. A piece that had broken off and withdrawn.
When she got to the top she swung her beam around the kitchen, looked into the doorways, and stepped out into the middle of the rotunda to survey the upper level.
“What’s wrong?” asked Solly.
There were shadows everywhere. “Nothing,” she said.
He knew better, but he didn’t pursue the issue, other than to follow her eyes. “I don’t guess you found anything?”
She held out the shoe. “Ever see one like this?”
He played his light over it. “Sure,” he said. “It’s a grip shoe.”
“A what?
“A grip shoe.” He took it from her and pushed it against a wall. It stuck momentarily, and then fell. “Well,” he said, “it’s kind of beat up, but they’re used on starships in zero-gravity situations.”
“—Used on starships.” She held it against her own foot. Too small. It couldn’t have been Emily’s.
“What are you thinking, Kim?”
“Just wondering who it belonged to.”
The wind had died down and some of the clouds had blown off. Out over the lake, one of the moons had broken through.
They retraced their steps back down the hill and into the trees. They found the place where they’d doubled back and turned away from the river. Their prints were still deep and clean and they followed them back toward the flyer, moving deliberately, driven by the knowledge that it would be warm and dry in the aircraft.
But suddenly the prints stopped. In the middle of the trail, they were there, and beyond a certain point, between one step and another, they were not.
“The wind must have covered them over,” said Solly.
They were quite clear here, his large prints, her small; and they were simply missing there. They turned on their lamps. Incredibly, it was as if the two of them, earlier in the evening, had simply materialized out of the air. Materialized with his left footprint, her right, behind which there was only virgin snow.
She looked behind them, playing her light against the trees and along the trail. Nothing moved. “Yes,” she said. “Must have been the wind.”
They hurried forward, expecting the tracks to show up again momentarily. The lamp beams bobbed in front of them. Neither spoke now, and Solly picked up Kim’s habit of looking behind at regular intervals.
“I remember this oak,” she said. “We came right past here. I know we did.” But the snow was deep and apparently undisturbed.
Eventually the path divided and they hesitated.
“Which way?” she asked.
“The lake’s on the left,” whispered Solly. “Stay close to the lake.” Solly seemed unsettled and that positively terrified her.
They got lost, as was inevitable under the circumstances. At one point Kim caught her jacket on a dog-rose bush and tore it.
They broke finally into the glade with the tumbled shed and the footprints began again. She should have been glad to see them, but they were simply there, appearing in the middle of the glade, nothing on this side of them except unbroken snow, as if their earlier selves had stepped off the world. The sight chilled her.
“Keep going,” said Solly.
That part of the mind which withdraws from fear and watches emotional eruptions with dispatch now suggested she was in a VR scenario, that what she was experiencing could not happen in the real world.
Or that Sheyel had been right.
They came out of the tree line and saw the lake and the flyer. Kim fought down an urge to run for it. They walked deliberately across the beach, moving with comic swiftness.
Behind them, the forest remained dark and quiet. Far off to the east, a string of lights moved against the sky. The train from Terminal Island bound for Eagle Point. Solly keyed the remote and the flyer’s lights came on. The hatch opened and the ladder dropped.
Out on the water something glimmered. A reflection. A lamp. Something.
Kim paused long enough to make sure the backseat was empty, and climbed in. Solly followed her and shut the hatch. Ordinarily her first thought would have been to get out of her wet shoes and socks. Instead she sat still while Solly inserted the key card into the dex and punched the GO button.
“Solomon,” the AI said. “What is our destination?”
“Up,” Solly said. “Up.”
5
Those who rise to the top of organizations, who live to direct others, to wield power, are inevitably afflicted by weak egos, by a need to prove themselves. This explains why they are so easily frightened and so easily manipulated. And why they are so dangerous.
“You really weren’t rattled?”
Solly’s eyes closed and he shook his head sadly, as in the presence of unlimited ignorance. “No, I really wasn’t rattled. I was cold.”
They were seated over coffee, salad, and fresh fruit in the hotel restaurant, Dean’s Top of the World. The mountains were crisp and clear in the morning sun, and the skyways were already crowded with vacationers. A train had just rounded Mount White and was gliding in over the treetops.
“Okay,” she said. “Me too.”
In the daylight, it was hard to believe she’d been so fearful. She’d learned something about herself that she didn’t know, didn’t want to know: She was a coward.
“It was odd about the tracks, though,” he said.
“Yes, it was.”
He frowned and waved it away. “Where are you going to hang the Kane print?”
“I don’t know. It’s a little somber for my tastes.”
“Then why didn’t you get something else?”
“I should have,” she agreed.
They took almost an hour to finish eating. Kim’s thoughts wandered while they admired the mountains and gorges visible through the window. She felt relieved to be rid of her obligation to Sheyel. We went out and inspected the woods, she would tell him with a clear conscience, and nothing untoward happened. Absolutely nothing. He’d be disappointed, of course. But maybe a dose of reality was what he needed.
Solly was saying how he’d never learned to ski and was asking whether she knew her way around a pair of poles. She didn’t, and was surprised when he suggested they should come back when their schedules permitted and learn. “There’s a school out on the slopes where they give lessons,” he added.
She thought she was too old to pick up skiing. But—”I’d be willing to try if you are.”
He rewarded her with a smile.
Back at the hotel room, Solly packed while Kim decided to get the call over with. She punched in Sheyel’s code and sat down on the sofa. The AI answered, asked who she was, and put her through immediately.
“Kim.” He sounded pleased to hear her voice. “It’s good to hear from you so quickly.” He left it on audio only.