‘What’s happening?’
‘Ssh!’
Billy put a finger to his lips and pointed at the awful procession.
‘Look.’
‘Dear god.’
‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know.’
‘They don’t seem to be able to see us.’
‘Thank Christ for that.’
For what seemed like hours, Billy and the Minstrel Boy crouched shivering as the inhuman column moved past them.
When it was finally past, they waited a little longer and then woke Reave. He was reassuringly human as he bitched and complained, and gathered up his things.
The three of them divided up the rations from Eli’s Store, and washed them down with the last of Reave’s beer. Billy and the Minstrel Boy didn’t eat too much, but Reave appeared not to notice.
They disconnected the porta-pacs from each other, and hitched them back on their belts. The Minstrel Boy shouldered his guitar, Billy and Reave picked up their bags, and in single file they started down the gloomy highway.
***
Uttering a strange high sound like the keening of high-tension cables, She/They gathered up Her/Their fallen third in Her/Their arms, and slowly began to move forward.
‘Grief.’
‘Gather data, it is a unique situation.’
‘We are wounded.’
‘We are wounded.’
The wooden buildings of the township began to fade, and the multi-coloured mist flowed in its place. She/They noted that there was a greater density to the mist where there had been ground.
‘Chaos below total.’
‘Willeffort.’
The ground-mist became thicker, and the air-mist grew thinner. She/They continued to move slowly forward. The oppressive silence jangled with the presence of chaos. Even the words that filled it were blurred and indistinct. With a gesture of what might have been reluctance in a being of different form, the right-hand figure raised the energy wand. The mist around the figures was bathed in an orange glow. It twisted and swirled, and then began to fold in on itself, coiling into thick viscous strands that sluggishly settled to produce ground and air around the space where She/They hung suspended.
A bridge began to form in front and behind Her/Them, a plain, stark structure without decoration or parapet. It was made of a dark blue material, and as it formed, the energy wand glowed brighter, its light shifting from orange to yellow. The bridge extended, not to the horizon, but a considerable way into the mist that still swirled in the distance. The bases of its piers were also obscured by the shimmering fog, but around Her/Them it was absolutely solid, and She/They floated above its surface, casting a slight shadow. Even the silence was most pure, and the words that formed in it were sharp and clear.
‘All potential reduced proportionally.’
She/They drifted along the bridge, gathering momentum. As She/They approached it, the mist receded.
‘Problem of continued existence.’
Despite the burden of the fallen third, She/They seemed less bowed by the weight.
‘Problem necessitates an external stasis source. It is not possible to maintain control zone and heal. Insufficient power potential.’
The words flipped rapidly through the silence.
‘Seek external source.’
***
The road abruptly stopped and the plain was in front of them. It was like a wide lake that had solidified and become a hard, smooth, but glowingly translucent material. The sky above it was pitch black, apart from an edging of the deepest blue where it met the horizon. All light came from beneath from the plain itself. To look at everything in a soft cold light that came from below was disconcerting. It was like being in some huge, ghostly ballroom. Billy and Reave hesitated before stepping off the last broken fragments of the road, and on to the surface of the plain. The Minstrel Boy, however, went straight ahead.
‘You don’t have to worry, it’s quite safe to walk on. You can even shut your porta-pacs off. Stasis is the least of our worries.’
Doubtfully, Billy and Reave went ahead, and found that they could, in fact, walk on the plain’s surface. Billy caught up with the Minstrel Boy.
‘So what do we have to worry about?’
‘Reaching Dogbreath. It’s a fair distance.’
‘Ah, come on now. You keep talking about this plain as though it was dangerous.’
‘It can be.’
‘So what do we have to look out for?’
‘That’s the trouble, you never know. You can’t ever tell.’
‘You must have some idea.’
‘Maybe I have, and then again, maybe I haven’t.’
Billy’s temper snapped. He swung round and grabbed the Minstrel Boy by the lapels of his frayed velvet jacket.
‘Listen smartass, tell me all you know and don’t fuck around.’
‘Let go of me or I ain’t saying nothing. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
Billy relaxed his grip. The Minstrel Boy stepped back and dusted himself off. Billy looked hard at him.
‘I’m still waiting.’
‘Okay, okay. You know what an anomal is?’
‘Sure I know what an animal is.’
‘No, no, an anomal.’
He spelled the word for Billy. Billy frowned.
‘I think so. It’s something that appears where it doesn’t belong.’
The Minstrel Boy nodded like he was a teacher talking to a backward pupil.
‘And it would seem that this plain is a high-density point for them.’
‘So we’ve got to watch out for them?’
‘That’s the problem. Nobody knows where they come from. It’s been suggested that people produce them themselves.’
Billy frowned.
‘I don’t understand.’
The Minstrel Boy pursed his lips impatiently.
‘Look at it this way. Say you’re walking down the road, thinking about elephants, and this herd of elephants shows up where no elephants ought to be, that’s a self-produced anomal. Right?’
Billy nodded.
‘Right. I get it. If we cross this plain with our guns drawn, looking over our shoulders all the time, the thing we fear is more than likely to jump out at us.’
‘Something like that.’
Billy glanced round nervously.
‘Surely if we blank out our minds, nothing’s going to happen to us.’
The Minstrel Boy shook his head.
‘It’s not as easy as that. Try looking at it this way. Say you’re walking down the road, and you ain’t thinking about nothing ‘cept where your next meal’s coming from, and then a herd of elephants jump out on you where no elephants ought to be. How about that?’
Billy fiddled with his belt.
‘I don’t know. That just don’t fit.’
‘Well, according to the self-production theory, those elephants are left over from somebody else thinking about them. Somebody who might have passed by years before.’
Billy looked uncomfortable.
‘So what you’re trying to tell me is that we can expect anything, but it’s dangerous to expect too hard.’
The Minstrel Boy nodded.
‘That’s about it.’
‘You think we should tell Reave about it?’
The Minstrel Boy shrugged.
‘You want to?’
Billy glanced at Reave plodding across the glowing plain.
‘No. I guess what he don’t know won’t hurt him.’
They both hurried to catch up with Reave.
The next hour or so was completely uneventful, and Billy began to think that maybe the Minstrel Boy had just been trying to make him paranoid. They were approaching a rocky growth, a kind of jagged mesa that jutted up through the surface of the plain. Billy had just started to relax when a figure darted from around the rock and began running towards them. Billy jerked out his gun, but the Minstrel Boy signalled him to wait.