Текст книги "Cyteen "

Автор книги: C. J. Cherryh

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 61 страниц)

"And he's damned well wasting himself."

"What were you doing at the start? Teaching him, while you took his designs apart. Do that for him. Lighten the load a little. The work will get done. You just can't pressure him like that, because he'll do it if he thinks someone is suffering, he just won't stop, he's like that. Give us things we can handle and we'll handle them. Justin has a talent at integration that can get more out of a genotype than anyone ever did, because he does get into the emotional level. Maybe his ideas won't work, but, for God's sake, he's still studying. You don't know what he can be. Give him a chance."

Yanni looked at him a long time, upset, unhappy, with his face red and his teeth working at his lip. "You're quite a salesman, son. You know what's the matter with him on this? Ari got hold of a vulnerable kid with an idea that was real advanced for a seventeen-year-old, she flattered hell out of him, she fed him full of this crap, and psyched him right into her bed. You're aware of that?"

"Yes, ser. I'm well aware of it."

"She did a real job on him. He thinks he was brilliant. He thinks there was more there than there was, and you don't do him any service by feeding that. He's bright, he's not brilliant. He'd be damn good on the Rubin project. I've seen what he can do, and there is a lot in him. I respect hell out of that. I don't like to feed a delusion. I spend my life trying to make normal people and you're asking me to humor him in the biggest delusion of his poor fucked-up life. I hate that like hell, Grant. I can't tell you how much I hate it."

"I'mtalking to a man who's the nearest thing to a Supervisor Justin's got; the man Justin fought to get to help him; who's going to take a talent that's been fucked-up and kill it because it's a drain on the teacher. What kind of man is that?"

"Dammit."

"Yes, ser. Damn meall you like. It's Justin I'm talking about. He trusts you and he doesn't trust many people. Are you going to damn himbecause he's trying to do something you think will fail?"

Yanni chewed on his lip. "You're one of Ari's, aren't you?"

"You know I am, ser."

"Damn, she did good work. You remind me what she was. After all that's happened."

"Yes, ser." It stung. He thought that it was meant to.

But Yanni gave a great sigh and shook his head. "I'll do this. I'll put him on the project. I'll keep the work light. Which means, dammit, that you're going to carry some of it."

"Yes, ser."

"And if he does his damn designs I'll rip them apart. And teach him what I can. Everything I can. Has he got his problem with tape solved?"

"He has no problem with tape, ser."

"If you're in the room with him. That's what Petros says."

"That's so, ser. Can you blame him?"

"No. No, I can't. —I'll tell you, Grant, I respectwhat you're doing. I'd like to have a dozen of you. Unfortunately—you're not a production item."

"No, ser. Justin as much as Ari and Jordan—had a hand in my psychsets. But you're welcome to analyze them."

"Stable as hell. Good. Good for you." Yanni got up and came around the desk as Grant got up in confusion. And Yanni put his hand on his shoulder and took his hand. "Grant, come back to me if you think he can't handle things."

That affected him, when before, he doubted everything about this man's goodwill. "Yes, ser," he said, thinking that if Yanni was telling the truth, and if there was anything of himself he could give that Yanni could not have out of library and lab, he would give it. Freely.

"Out," Yanni said brusquely. "Go."

Azi-like, simple, equal to equal. When he knew that Yanni was upset about Strassen, and about everything that was going on, and it had been the worst of times to go to him.

He went, with a simplicity of courtesies he had not felt with anyone but Justin and Jordan, since he was very young.

And with an anguish over what he might have done in his presumption, adding stress to what he knew was a delicate tolerance for Justin in the House, at a delicate time and a delicate balance in Justin's own mind. He had not known, from the time he determined to go to Yanni, whether Justin would forgive him—or whether he would deserve forgiveness.

So that was where he had to go first.

"You did what?"Justin cried, from the gut; and felt a double blow, because Grant reacted as if he had hit him, flinched and turned his face and turned it back again, to look at him helplessly, without any of Grant's accustomed defenses.

That took the wind out of him. There was no way to shout at Grant. Grant had acted because Grant had been forced into a caretaker role by his behavior, that was what his knowledge of azi told him; and he had misread that, an Alpha Supervisor's worst mistake, and leaned on Grant for years in ways that, God help him, he had needed.

Grant going azi on him—was his fault. No one else's.

He reached out and patted Grant's shoulder and calmed himself down as much as he could, while he was shocked full of adrenaline and he could hardly breathe, as much from what he had done to Grant as from the fact that Grant might well have damned him.

So. That was not Grant's fault. Everything would be all right, if Grant had not exposed himself to Giraud's attention again. Just go back to Yanni and try to recover things without the emotionalism that would finish the job in Yanni's eyes.

He just wanted to sit down a moment. But he could not even do that without letting Grant know how badly he was upset.

"Yanni wasn't mad," Grant pleaded with him. "Justin, he wasn't mad. It wasn't like that. He just said he would lighten up."

He gave Grant a second pat on the arm. "Look, I'm sure it's all right. If it isn't, I'll fix it. Don't worry about it."

"Justin?"

There was pain in Grant's voice. His making. Just like the crisis.

"Yanni's going to have my guts for shoving you in there," Justin said. "He ought to. Grant, you don't have to go around me. I'm all right. Don't worry."

"Stop it, dammit." Grant grabbed him and spun him around, hard, face to face with him. "Don't go Supervisor on me. I knew what I was doing."

He just stared in shock.

"I'm not some dumb-annie, Justin. You can hit me, if you like. Just don't pull that calm-down routine on me." Anger. Outright anger. It shocked hell out of him. It was rescue when he thought there was none. He was shaking when Grant let go his arm and put his hand on the side of his face. "God, Justin, what do you think?"

"I put too much on you."

"No. They put too much on you.And I told Yanni that. I'm not plastic. I know what I'm doing. What have youbeen doing all these years? I used to be your partner. What do you think I've gotten to be? One of the psych-cases you deal with? Or what do you think I am?"

Azi,was the obvious answer. Grant challenged him to it. And he froze up inside.

"Dumb-annie, huh?"

"Cut it, Grant."

"Well?"

"Maybe—" He got his breath and turned away. "Maybe it's pride. Maybe I've been taught all my life to think I'm the stronger one. And I know I've been fractured for years. And leaning on you. Hell if I don't feel guilty about that."

"Different kind of pressure," Grant said. "Mine can't come from anywhere but you. Don't you know that, born-man?"

"Well, I sure as hell pushed you into Yanni's office."

"Give me a chance,friend. I'm not a damn robot. Maybe my feelings are plastic, but they're sure as hell real. You want to yell at me, yell. Don'tpull that Supervisor crap."

"Then don't act like a damn azi!"

He could not believe he had said that. He stood there in shock. So did Grant for a moment. With that hanging in the air between them.

"Well, I am," Grant said then, with a little shrug. "But I'm not guilty about it. How about you?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, go ahead. Damn-azi all you like. I'd rather that than watch you bottle it up. You work till you're dropping, you're eating your gut out, and one more aberrant azi psychset is going to push you over the edge. So damn-azi all you like. I'm glad you've gotten self-protective. It's about time."

"God, don't psychoanalyze me."

"Sorry, can't help that. Thank God Ionly have one born-man to worry about. Two would drive me into the wards. So damn born-men too. They cause a hell of a lot of trouble. You were right about Yanni. He's quite reasonable with azi. It's other born-men he pours it out on, everything he stores up. Question is whether he was telling me the truth. But if you'll calm down and listen to me, nothing about the fact you can't handle real-time is news to him. I only pointed out you were wasted in the Rubin project, and that if he wanted motivated work, he'd do well to put up with your doing design in your spare time. Which you're damn well due. I don't think I was at all unreasonable." Eavesdroppers,Justin thought with a jolt, and sorted back wildly to remember what they had said. He signed Grant to be careful, and Grant nodded.

"I'm sorry," Justin said then, calmer. And wishing he could find a dark place to hide him. But Grant was doing all right. Grant was holding up fine, with a dignity he could not manage. "Grant, I—just react to things. Flux-thinking. You've got to understand."

"Hey," Grant said. "I don'tunderstand. I marvel at it. The number of levels you can react on is really amazing. The number of things you can believe at one time is incredible. I don't understand it. I'm going to spend days figuring that reaction and I'll probably still miss nuances."

"Real simple. I'm scared as hell. I thought I knew where things were and all of a sudden even you went sideways on me. So everything shifted to polar-opposite values. Born-men are real logical."

"God. Life would be so dull if there weren't born-men. Now I wonder which pole Yanni was at while I was talking to him. That's enough to worry hell out of you."

"Was he calm?"

"Very."

"Then you got the main set, didn't you?"

"We just have to learn not to agitate you people. I think they ought to put that in the beginning tape-sets. 'Excited born-men go to alternate programming sets. Every born-man is schiz. And he hates his alter ego.' That's the whole key to CIT behavior."

"You're not far wrong."

"Hell. I've been endocrine-learning for years. I'm really amazed. I went right over to it. Dual and triple opinions, the whole thing. I must say I prefer my natural psychset. My naturalpsychset, thank you. A lot easier on the stomach. Do you want to go to lunch?"

He looked at Grant, at Grant with the shields up again, with that slight, mocking smile that was Grant's way of defying fate, the universe, and Reseune Administration. For a moment he felt both fortunate and terrified.

As if for the first time everything that had been going away from him had stopped and trembled on the edge of reversing itself.

"Sure," he said. "Sure." He caught Grant's arm and steered him out the door. "If you could make headway with Yanni Schwartz you could hire out by the hour. Probably everybody in the Wing could use your services."

"Un-unh. No. I'm in regular employment, thanks." People were staring. He dropped Grant's arm. And realized half the Wing must have heard him shouting at Grant. And was looking for signs of damage.

They were a source of gossip for a whole host of reasons. And now there was a new one.

That would get back to Yanni too.

viii

There were new things all the time. Nelly took Ari to the store in the North Wing, and they came back with packages. That was fun. She bought Nelly things too, and Nelly was so happy it made her feel good, to see Nelly with a new suit and looking pretty and so proud.

But Nelly was not maman. She liked it at first when Nelly put her arms around her, but Nelly always was Nelly, that was all, and all at once one night she felt so empty when Nelly did that. She didn't tell Nelly, because Nelly was telling her a story. But after that it was harder and harder to put up with Nelly holding her, when maman was gone. So she fidgeted down and sat on the floor for her stories, which Nelly seemed to think was all right.

Seely was just nobody. She teased Seely sometimes, but Seely never laughed. And that felt awful. So she left Seely alone, except when she asked him for a soft drink or a cookie. Which she got more of than maman would like. So she tried to be good and not to ask, and to eat vegetables and not have so much sugar. It's not good for you, maman would say. And anything maman said was something she tried to remember and keep doing, because everything of maman's she forgot was like forgetting maman. So she ate the damn vegetables and got a lump in her throat because some of them tasted awful, all messed up with white creamy stuff. Ugh. They made her want to throw up. But she did it because of maman and it made her so sad and so mad at the same time she felt like crying.

But if she did cry she went to her room and shut the door, and wiped her eyes and washed her face before she came out again, because she was not going to snivel.

She wanted somebody to play with but she didn't want it to be Sam. Sam knew her too well. Sam would know about her maman. And she would beat his face in, because she couldn't stand him looking at her with his face that never showed anything.

So when Nelly asked did she want to go back to playschool she said all right if Sam wasn't there.

"I don't know who there is, then," Nelly said.

"Then I'll go by myself," she said. "Let's go do the gym. All right?"

So Nelly took her. And they fed the fish and she played in the sandbox, but the sandbox was no fun by herself; and Nelly was not good at making buildings. So they just fed the fish and took walks and played on the playground and in the gym.

There was tapestudy. And a lot of the grown-ups did lessons with her. She learned a lot of things. She lay there in her bed at night with her head so full of new things she had trouble thinking of maman and Ollie.

Uncle Denys was right. It hurt less, day by day. That was the thing that scared her. Because if it didn't hurt the mad was harder to keep. So she bit her lip till it hurt and tried to keep it that way.

There was a children's party. She saw Amy there. Amy ran and got behind sera Peterson and acted like a baby. She remembered why she had wanted to hit Amy. The rest of the kids just stared at her a lot and sera Peterson told them they had to play with her.

They weren't happy about it. She could tell. There was Kate and Tommy and a kid named Pat, and Amy, who cried and snuffled over in the corner. Sam was there too. Sam came out from the others and said Hello, Ari. Sam was the only friendly one. So she said Hello, Sam. And wished she could go home, but Nelly had gone in the kitchen to have tea with sera Peterson's azi, and Nelly was having a good time.

So she went over and sat down and played their game, which was a dice game, and you moved around a board, which was Union space. You got money. All right. She played it, and everybody got to arguing and laughing and teasing each other again. Except Amy. Except they teased each other and not her. But that was all right. She learned their game. She started getting money. Sam was the luckiest one with the dice, but Sam was too careful with his money and Tommy was too reckless. "I'll sell you a station," she said. And Amy bought it for most of what Amy had. So Amy charged a lot and Ari just charged less. And what Amy had bought was off at the edge anyway. So Ari got more money and Amy got mad. And nobody wanted to trade for Amy's station, but Ari offered to buy it back, not for what Amy wanted for it.

So Amy took it and bought ships. And Ari raised her prices a little.

Amy sniveled. And pretty soon she was in trouble again, because Ari kept beating her by using her money to buy up cargoes and keeping a surplus of the only things Amy could get because stupid Amy kept coming to herstations instead of sticking to Tommy's. Amy wanted a fight. Amy got a fight. But she didn't want Amy to lose real soon and ruin the game, so she told Amy what she ought to do.

Amy got real mad then. And sniveled some more.

She didn't take the advice either.

So Ari got her in trouble and took all but one of her ships. Then the last one. By that time she had a way to win. But everybody else was looking unhappy and nobody was teasing anybody, except Amy left the table crying.

Nobody said anything. They all looked at Amy. They all looked at her like they wanted not to be there.

She was going to win. Except Sam didn't know it. So she said, "Sam, you can have my pieces."

And she went and got Nelly in the kitchen and said she wanted to go home. Nelly looked worried, then, and stopped having fun with Corrie, and they went home.

She moped around the rest of the day, being lonely. And mad. Which was fine. She thought of maman then. And missed Ollie. Even Phaedra.

And thought if Valery had been there he would not have been so stupid.

"What's the matter?" uncle Denys asked that evening. He was very kind about it. "Ari, dear, what happened at the party? What did they do?"

She could Disappear them all if she said they had a fight. Maybe they would anyway. She wasn't sure. At least Amy and Kate were still around, even if they were stupid.

"Uncle Denys, where did Valery go?"

"Valery Schwartz? His maman got transferred. They moved, that's all. You still remember Valery?"

"Can he come back?"

"I don't know, dear. I don't think so. His maman has a job to do. What happened at the party?"

"I just got bored. They're not much fun. Where did maman and Ollie go? What station?"

"To Fargone."

"I'm going to send maman and Ollie a letter." She had seen mail in maman's office. She had never thought of doing that. But she thought that would get to maman's office at the other place. At Fargone.

"All right. I'm sure they'd like that."

Sometimes she thought maman and Ollie weren't really anywhere. But uncle Denys talked like they were, and they were all right. That made her feel better, but it made her wonder why maman never even called on the phone.

"Can you call Fargone?"

"No," uncle Denys said. "It's faster for a ship to go. A letter gets there much faster than a phone call. In months, not years."

"Why?"

"You say hello, and it takes twenty years to get there; and they say hello and it takes twenty years to get here. And then you say your first sentence and they don't hear it for years. You could take hundreds of years having a conversation. That's why letters are faster and a whole lot cheaper, and they don't use phones and radios between any two stars. Ships carry everything, because ships go faster than light. There are more complications to the question, but that's more than you really want to know to get a message to your maman. It's just a long way. And a letter is the way you do things."

She had never understood how far far could be. Not when they were jumping ships around the board. She felt cold and lonely then. And she went to her room and wrote the letter.

She kept tearing it up because she didn't want to make maman worry about her being miserable. She didn't want to say: maman, the kids don't like me and I'm lonely all the time.

She said: I miss you a lot. I miss Ollie. I'm not mad at Phaedra anymore. I want you and Ollie to come back. Phaedra too. I'll be good. Uncle Denys gives me too many cookies, but I remember what you said and I don't eat too much. I don't want to be fat. I don't want to be hyper, either. Nelly is very good to me. Uncle Denys gives me his credit card and I buy Nelly lots of things. I bought a spaceship and a car and puzzles and story tapes. And a red and white blouse and red boots. I wanted a black one but Nelly says that's for azi until I'm older. Little girls don't wear black, Nelly says. I could too, but sometimes I do what Nelly says. I mind everybody. I saw Amy Carnath today and I didn't hit her. She still snivels. I study a lot of tapes. I can do math and I can do chemistry. I can do geography and astrography and I'm going to study about Fargone because you're there. I want to go to Fargone if you can't come here. Are there any kids there? Have you got a nice place?

Tell uncle Denys I can come. Or you come home. I'll be very good. I love you. I love Ollie I am going to give this to uncle Denys to send to you. He says it takes a long time to get there and your letter will take a long time to get to me so please write to me as soon as you can. I think it will be almost a year. By then I will be eight. If you tell Denys to let me come real soon I guess I will be almost nine. Tell him I can bring Nelly too. She'll be scared but I'll tell her it's all right. I'm not afraid of jumps. I'm not afraid to come by myself. I do a lot of things by myself now. Uncle Denys doesn't care. I know he would let me come if you said yes. I love you.

ix

Florian was late again. There was a shortcut along between 240 and 241 and he took it, dodging out between two groups of Olders and skipping backward to nod a courtesy and murmur: "Excuse me, please," before he turned and sprinted across the road and up to Security.

"I'm very sorry," he said, arriving at the desk inside Square One. He was trying not to pant as he handed his chit to the azi at the desk. The man looked at the chit and put it in his machine.

"Blue to white to brown," the man said. "Change in brown. Instructions there."

"Yes," he said, and looked where the man pointed. Blue started with that door and he went, not running, but going in a great hurry.

He knew he was still late when he got to brown. The azi in charge was waiting for him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm Florian AF-9979."

The man looked him over and said: "Size 6M, cabinets on the wall, go change. Hurry."

"Yes," he said, and went into the changing room, hunted quickly for 6M, pulled out the plastic packet and threw it onto the bench while he peeled out of his clothes. He put the black uniform on, sat down quick to pull on the socks and put on the slippers, then hung his AG uniform on the pegs beside uniforms of all sizes and colors. He was so nervous he almost forgot his new keycard, but he got it off his other coveralls and clipped it to the black ones, then raked a hand through his hair and hurried outside again.

"Down the hall," the azi with the clipboard said. "Brown to green.

Run!"

He ran. And followed the halls till he found a door marked with green-in-brown. Inside, then, into a gym. He came bursting in where there was a man with a clipboard, and another Younger, who was dressed like him, in black coveralls. Who was a girl.He felt a shock, but gut-level, reacted to the Super and made a little bow. "Sorry I'm late, ser."

The Super looked at him just long enough to keep him worried, and he did not dare look back at the girl who was, he was sure now, here just like he was, to find her partner for this Assignment.

Then the Super made a mark on his board and said: "Florian, this is Catlin. Catlin is your partner."

Florian looked at the girl again, his heart beating hard. It was a mistake. It must be. He was late. He got a girl partner. He was supposed to change bunks and he had thought he was supposed to bunk with his partner. Wrong, then. He did not know where he was going to sleep.

He wanted his classes back. He had been upset about the new Assignment even if his old Super told him he could still have AG on his Rec hours. He wanted—

But the girl bothered him. She looked—

She was blonde, blue-eyed, a scab on her chin. She was taller than he was, but that was nothing unusual. She had a thin, very serious face. He thought he had seen her before. She stared at him, the way you weren't supposed to stare. Then he realized he was doing it too.

"Catlin," the Super said, "you know the way from here. Take Florian over to Staging, talk to the Super there."

"Yes, ser," she said, and Florian almost asked the Super to look and check if there was some mistake, but he was late, he had gotten a bad start with this man, and he did not know why he was as upset as he was, but he was panicked. Catlin was already going. He caught up with her as she walked toward another door behind the hanging buffer-mats at the end of the gym. She used her keycard, held the door for him, and led the way into another long cement hallway.

Down stairs then. And another cement hall.

"I'm supposed to have a bunk assignment?" he said finally, behind her.

She looked back on the stairs and he caught up with her in the long concrete hall at the bottom.

"22. Like me," she said. "We're going in with Olders. Partners room together, two and two."

He was shocked. But she seemed to know what was right, and shewas not upset. So he just walked behind her, wondering if somehow the Computers had glitched up and he was supposed to have gotten tape to explain all this and help him not make mistakes. He had, he thought, to talk to the Super where they were going.

They got to the other place. Catlin keyed in, and there was a Super sitting at a desk. "Ser," Catlin said. "Catlin and Florian, ser."

"Late," the Super said.

"Yes, ser," Catlin said.

"My fault," Florian said. "Ser, —"

"Excuses don't matter. You're Assigned to Security. You go into Staging, you pick out what you think you might need. And both of you will be right. All right. Fifteen minutes to get your equipment. You do mess, you've got this evening to plan it out, you'll do a Room tomorrow morning. It's a one-hour course, you can talk about it. You're supposed to. Go."

"I—" he said. "Ser, I have to feed the pigs. I– Am I supposed to have gotten tape about this? I haven't."

The Super looked straight at him. "Florian, you'll do AG when you aren't doing Security. This is your Assignment. You can go to AG in your Rec time. Four hours Rec time for every good pass through the Room. There isn't any tape for this. It's up at 0500, drill at 0530, breakfast at 0630, then tape, Room, or Rec, whatever the schedule calls for; noon mess as you can catch it, follow your schedule; evening mess at 2000, follow your schedule, in bunks at 2300 most nights. If you've got any problems you talk to your Instructor. Catlin knows. Ask her."

"Yes, ser," Florian breathed, thinking: What about Andy? What about the pigs? They said I could go to AG.And because the Super had answered and he was terribly afraid this wasthe right Assignment, he caught up with Catlin.

It was a Staging-room, like in the Game he knew. His old Super had said it was an Assignment, there would be Rooms, all of this he knew: it would be like Rooms he had done before and he would be more out of Security than AG after this.

But it was not right. He was supposed to bunk with a girl. He was put into a place she knew and he didn't. He was going to make more mistakes. They always said a Super would never refuse to talk to you, but the one back there made him afraid he was already making mistakes.

Like being late to start with.

He came into the Staging-room behind Catlin; he knew it was going to be a Security kind of Room, and he was not terribly shocked to find guns and knives on the table with the tools, but he didn't even want to touch them, and there was a queasy feeling in his stomach when Catlin picked up a gun. He grabbed pliers and a circuit-tester; Catlin took a length of fine cord and he started through the components tray, grabbing things and stuffing them into his pockets by categories.

"Electronics?" she asked.

"Yes. Military?"

"Security. You know weapons?"

"No."

"Better not have one, then. What kind are your Rooms?"

"Traps. Alarms."

Catlin's pale brows went up. She nodded, looking more friendly. "Ambushes. There's usually an Enemy. He'll kill you."

"So will traps."

"Are you good?"

He nodded. "I think so."

And he was staring again. Her face had been bothering him all along. It was like he knew her. He knew her the way you knew things from tape. Maybe she was remembering him too just then, the way she was staring. He was not completely surprised, except that it had happened at all: tape never surprised him. He knew it was not a mistake if he knew her from tape. She was supposed to be important to him, if that was the case, the way his studies were important, and he had never thought that was supposed to happen until he was Contracted to somebody.

But she was azi. Like him.

And she knew all about her Assignment and he was new and full of mistakes.

"I think I'm supposed to know you," he said, worried.

"Same," she said.

No one had ever paidthat much attention to him. Not even Andy. And he felt shaky, to know he had run into someone tape meant for him.

"Why are we partners?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. Then: "But electronics is useful. And you know a different Room. Come on. Tell me what you know."

"You go in," he said, trying to pull up everything, fast and all of it, the way he would do for a Super. "There's a door. There can be all kinds of traps. If you make one go off you lose. Sometimes there's noise. Sometimes the lights go out. Sometimes there's someone after you and you have to get through and rig traps. Sometimes there's an AI lock. Sometimes there's water and that's real dangerous if there's a line loose. But it's pretend, you don't really get electrocuted."

"Dead is dead," she said. "They shoot at you and they trap the doors and if you don't blow them up they'll blow you up; and sometimes all the things you said. Sometimes gas. Sometimes Ambushes. Sometimes it's outside and sometimes it's a building. Some people get killed for real. I saw one. He broke his neck."

He was shocked. And then he thought it could be him. And he thought about door traps. He took a battery and a coil of wire and a penlight, and Catlin gave him a black scarf—for your face, she said. She took a lot of other things, like face-black and cord and some things that might be weapons, but he didn't know.

"If they have gas masks in Staging it's a good idea to have one," Catlin said, "but there aren't. So they probably won't do gas, but you don't know. They aren't fair."

A bell rang.

Time was up.

"Come on," Catlin said, and the door opened and let them out with what they had.

Down a hall and through more doors. And upstairs again, until they came out in another concrete hall.

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