the bulkhead walls, fusing with them. Hermit crabs and barnacles had claimed the skull.
Standing on the beach now, Jonny wondered if the sailor was still out there, washed by the Pacific tides. He was the first dead man Jonny had ever seen.
Sumi took his hand and placed it on the warm metal roof of a car. Jonny felt his way along the smooth finish until he came to a seam where the roof met the door. He pulled the door open (it swung up, not out) as an arm slid around his midsection. 'You take care, killer,' Ice whispered. She pecked him below the ear.
Jonny nodded. 'You, too,' he said. The sun was making the scars on his face itch. He heard the women up by the headlights, speaking in low tones. A rustle of fabric as they embraced. Then footsteps as someone crunched away quickly across the sand. A hand touched his arm. 'You have to step up to get in,' said Sumi. Trying hard not to let her voice crack.
Jonny put a leg up over the side of the low-slung car, and settled onto rotten leather upholstery. When he touched the dashboard, he felt weathered wood. His fingers smelled lightly of varnish and mildew. As Sumi got in, he ran his hands over the stick shift and instrument panel, felt an embossed logo. It reminded him of another car he had been in. 'Something Italian. Lamborghini?' he wondered.
'There's a shoulder harness to your right,' said Sumi quietly.
Buckling in, Jonny said, 'She's going to be all right.'
'Right.'
Someone came running up to the car. 'Here, take this.' It was Ice, breathless. She put something in Jonny's hands. Half a meter long and heavy, it smelled of cordite and machine oil, had two chopped-off cylinders mounted on a short wooden stock. A sawed-off shotgun.
'Figure you can't use a pistol right now, but if someone gets close enough, this'll modify their opinion.'
Jonny weighed the gun in his hands. 'I love you, too,' he said.
'Need any amantadine?'
'No, Conover'll be holding,' said Jonny.
'Right.' Ice touched his shoulder. 'Gotta go,' she said. And she was running away again, off to where he could hear the other cars warming up their engines.
Sumi gunned the Lamborghini and slipped the car into gear.
'She's not coming back,' Sumi said.
'Just drive,' said Jonny.
It began to rain as they entered the city. They were driving along Wilshire Boulevard, right through the withered heart of the financial district. Jonny imagined he could feel the heat of the lights as they passed Lockheed's brilliant torus and the flat black sphere of Sony International, Sumi trying to blend the old Lamborghini into the hesitant flow of rush hour traffic. Groups of Croakers had preceded them, heading north and south from the beach, hoping to pull away any surveillance teams that had followed the camel train driver.
Rain needled across the asphalt as they cruised through Beverly Hills. Jonny thought it sounded like frying eggs. For the last hour, a spring had been steadily working its way through the ruined seat and into Jonny's back. He listened to thunder roll in the distance, like a collapsing mountain, growing faint, until it faded completely somewhere to the south. When they were in Hollywood, Jonny told Sumi to head up into the hills.
'Exactly, where are we going?' she asked.
'Up high,' said Jonny. 'We want to rattle Conover's cage so his security'll come and check us out.'
'Great,' said Sumi. 'How do you know they won't just blow us away and ask questions later?'
'They won't.'
'How do you know?'
'I know.'
'How?'
Actually, I don't. But I've still got this,' he said. From his jacket pocket, he pulled the black card with the gold bar code. 'Cops must have left it when they decided I was still Committee meat. The card transmits an identification code. They won't kill us if they scan us for I.D.'
'If they scan us.'
'Right. If.'
He told her to park the car in the driveway of one of the derelict houses in the Hollywoodland development. They waited there in the rain. Jonny popped the door on his side to let in a little of the breeze the swept down through the hills. The air smelled of sage and manzanita. The staples on his face alternately itched and stung him. He thought about the endorphins Groucho had given him back at the fish farm, wished he had some now. He consoled himself with the thought that Conover would have all the drugs he needed to feel better. Better than better, Jonny thought, remembering the stash of Mad Love. Quite a mixed blessing, that. It would be a bad time to bliss-out again, with Ice in trouble and Zamora's push so near. They might have to move on a moment's notice. And he knew that Sumi hated to see him wasted. It brought back bad memories for them both. The Committee. Ice running away. Sumi doesn't need that crap, he thought, not now. 'How are you feeling?' he asked.
'Tired,' said Sumi. 'My head hurts. Stomach, too. I wish we'd had a chance to eat something today.'
He wanted to tell her about the Mad Love, ask her to help him keep clean. 'Conover's got these great cooks,' he said. 'They really lay it on. You'll feel better once you've eaten.' He started to mention the drugs. His lips moved, but the words would not come.
Folly, he thought. Greed and folly.
An hour passed. No contact with Conover or his people. Jonny heard Sumi yawn. Her head settled on his shoulder, soft hair against his cheek. He wondered if it was night yet. He was unaccustomed to the sounds of the hills. Each gust of wind, each snap of a twig make him jump. A part of him wished his hearing had gone with his sight.
Living by half-measures was getting to him. Sumi jerked her head up.
'What is it?' he asked.
'Shh,' she whispered. Something's moving.'
'Conover's men?' he asked.
'No. An animal.'
'What kind-?'
Sumi screamed and something slammed into the front of the Lamborghini like a truck. Then it was on the roof, clawing and pounding on the canopy, trying to force it's way in through Jonny's half-open door. He grabbed the handle and held on. 'What the hell is it?' he yelled.
'A tiger!' screamed Sumi. She pounded on the glass. 'Get off, fucker! Demasu! Demasu!'
The cat growled like rolling thunder. Jonny's door lifted a few centimeters and something slid in. He felt wind on his face, heard claws tearing up the dashboard. 'Shoot it!' he yelled. Something cut the air before his face. In his mind's eye he saw mad knives, bent silver blades that smelled of musk and sweat coming for his scarred face. 'Shoot it, goddamnit!' He pulled harder on the door, but could not budge it.
'Where's the gun?' yelled Sumi.
Jonny twisted in his seat, trying to keep his shoulder from the ripping claws. He had slid the gun down between his seat and the car wall. He felt along the rotten leather, coming up with spiderwebs and dust. Then his hand fell on a wedge of polished wood. Something sharp tore at his shoulder, scraped bone. He cursed once and fell back against his seat, pulling the gun and letting off both barrels through the window.
At first there was nothing. When the roaring in his ears died down, he was aware of a gentle, but persistent hissing beneath the sound of the rain. There was a peculiar chemical smell in the air.
Almost metallic.
'Christ,' said Sumi. 'It's a robot.' Jonny heard her release the latch and lift her door open. A creaking of springs as she stood in her seat. 'Looks like you got it in the neck. Took it's head clean off. Jesus, you ought to see this. Steam, fiber optics and circuit boards all over the place. Some kind of super-cooled liquid. It's bubbling the paint right off the car.'
'Get back in,' said Jonny. 'They'll be coming soon.'
'I think they're here,' said Sumi. Jonny heard he slide back into her seat.
Footsteps ground on stone off to the left. They came right for the car; it sounded like three of them, making no attempt to mask their approach. They would be armed, Jonny knew. And nervous when they saw the ruined cat. Conover's rail guns could turn the Lamborghini to slag in a few seconds… A man barked harsh Spanish near the
