course, say what you want.”
“Since tearing my way out of he who I was and becoming he who I am, Jocko, who is me, has lived mostly in storm drains and for a little while in a janitorial closet at a public restroom. This is so much better.”
Erika smiled and nodded. “I hope you’ll be happy here. Just remember—your presence in the house must remain a secret.”
“You are the kindest, most generous lady in the world.”
“Not at all, Jocko. You’ll be reading to me, remember?”
“When I was still he who was, I never knew any lady half as nice as you. Since the he who was became the I who am, Jocko, I’ve never met any lady a quarter as nice as you, not even in the restroom where I lived eleven hours, which was a ladies’ restroom. From the janitorial closet, Jocko listened to so many ladies talking out there at the sinks and in the stalls, and most of them were
horrible.”
“I’m sorry you’ve suffered so much, Jocko.”
He said, “Me too.”
CHAPTER 27
THE PRESENCE APPROACHING CARSON , from her right and low to the ground, wasn’t Janet Guitreau, but the German shepherd, panting hard, tail wagging.
She with the great butt remained where she had been when Carson got out of the Honda: fifty feet farther along the road. Head high, shoulders back, arms out at her sides as if she were a gunfighter ready to draw down on a sheriff in the Old West, she stood tall and alert.
She was no longer jogging in place, which was probably a huge disappointment to Michael.
Interestingly, the Janet thing had watched their confrontation with the Bucky thing and had felt no obligation to sprint to his assistance. A small army of the New Race might inhabit the city, but perhaps there wasn’t sufficient camaraderie among them to ensure they would always fight together.
On the other hand, maybe this lack of commitment to the cause resulted solely from the fact that Janet’s brain train had jumped the tracks and was rolling through strange territory where no rails had ever been laid.
Out there in the scintillant silver rain, bathed in the Honda’s high-beam headlights, she appeared ethereal, as if a curtain had parted between this world and another where people were as radiant as spirits and as wild as any animal.
Michael held out a hand, cartridges gleaming on his palm.
Reloading, Carson said, “What’re you thinking—go after her?”
“Not me. I have a rule—one showdown with an insane superclone per day. But she might come for us.”
For the first time all night, a sudden light wind sprang up, trumping gravity, so that the rain angled at them, pelting Carson’s face instead of the top of her head.
As though the wind had spoken to Janet, counseling retreat, she turned from them and sprinted off the roadway, between trees, into the dark grassy mystery of the park.
At Carson’s side, the dog issued a low, long growl that seemed to mean
good riddance
.
Michael’s cell phone sounded. His newest ring was Curly’s laugh, Curly being
the
Curly of the Three Stooges. “N’yuck, n’yuck, n’yuck,” said the phone. “N’yuck, n’yuck, n’yuck.”
“Life in the twenty-first century,” Carson said, “is every bit as stupid as it is insane.”
Michael took the call and said, “Hey, yeah.” To Carson, he said, “It’s Deucalion.”
“About freakin’ time.” She surveyed the darkness to the east and south, expecting Janet to come bouncing back in full killer mode.
After listening a moment, Michael told Deucalion, “No, where we are isn’t a good place to meet. We just had a situation, and there’s debris everywhere.”
Carson glanced at the body of the Bucky replicant. Still dead.
“Give us like ten or fifteen minutes to get somewhere that makes sense. I’ll call you back, let you know where.” Pocketing his phone, he said to Carson, “Deucalion’s almost done at Mercy, he found what he hoped to find.”
“What do you want to do about the dog?”
Having been drinking from a
“Since tearing my way out of he who I was and becoming he who I am, Jocko, who is me, has lived mostly in storm drains and for a little while in a janitorial closet at a public restroom. This is so much better.”
Erika smiled and nodded. “I hope you’ll be happy here. Just remember—your presence in the house must remain a secret.”
“You are the kindest, most generous lady in the world.”
“Not at all, Jocko. You’ll be reading to me, remember?”
“When I was still he who was, I never knew any lady half as nice as you. Since the he who was became the I who am, Jocko, I’ve never met any lady a quarter as nice as you, not even in the restroom where I lived eleven hours, which was a ladies’ restroom. From the janitorial closet, Jocko listened to so many ladies talking out there at the sinks and in the stalls, and most of them were
horrible.”
“I’m sorry you’ve suffered so much, Jocko.”
He said, “Me too.”
CHAPTER 27
THE PRESENCE APPROACHING CARSON , from her right and low to the ground, wasn’t Janet Guitreau, but the German shepherd, panting hard, tail wagging.
She with the great butt remained where she had been when Carson got out of the Honda: fifty feet farther along the road. Head high, shoulders back, arms out at her sides as if she were a gunfighter ready to draw down on a sheriff in the Old West, she stood tall and alert.
She was no longer jogging in place, which was probably a huge disappointment to Michael.
Interestingly, the Janet thing had watched their confrontation with the Bucky thing and had felt no obligation to sprint to his assistance. A small army of the New Race might inhabit the city, but perhaps there wasn’t sufficient camaraderie among them to ensure they would always fight together.
On the other hand, maybe this lack of commitment to the cause resulted solely from the fact that Janet’s brain train had jumped the tracks and was rolling through strange territory where no rails had ever been laid.
Out there in the scintillant silver rain, bathed in the Honda’s high-beam headlights, she appeared ethereal, as if a curtain had parted between this world and another where people were as radiant as spirits and as wild as any animal.
Michael held out a hand, cartridges gleaming on his palm.
Reloading, Carson said, “What’re you thinking—go after her?”
“Not me. I have a rule—one showdown with an insane superclone per day. But she might come for us.”
For the first time all night, a sudden light wind sprang up, trumping gravity, so that the rain angled at them, pelting Carson’s face instead of the top of her head.
As though the wind had spoken to Janet, counseling retreat, she turned from them and sprinted off the roadway, between trees, into the dark grassy mystery of the park.
At Carson’s side, the dog issued a low, long growl that seemed to mean
good riddance
.
Michael’s cell phone sounded. His newest ring was Curly’s laugh, Curly being
the
Curly of the Three Stooges. “N’yuck, n’yuck, n’yuck,” said the phone. “N’yuck, n’yuck, n’yuck.”
“Life in the twenty-first century,” Carson said, “is every bit as stupid as it is insane.”
Michael took the call and said, “Hey, yeah.” To Carson, he said, “It’s Deucalion.”
“About freakin’ time.” She surveyed the darkness to the east and south, expecting Janet to come bouncing back in full killer mode.
After listening a moment, Michael told Deucalion, “No, where we are isn’t a good place to meet. We just had a situation, and there’s debris everywhere.”
Carson glanced at the body of the Bucky replicant. Still dead.
“Give us like ten or fifteen minutes to get somewhere that makes sense. I’ll call you back, let you know where.” Pocketing his phone, he said to Carson, “Deucalion’s almost done at Mercy, he found what he hoped to find.”
“What do you want to do about the dog?”
Having been drinking from a
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