feel like warning them. I turned to take Ann's hand.
She held the flame dagger she'd pulled from the dead man. With her other hand, she struck her own blade against the bloodstained steel. After a half-dozen tries, an actinic spark flashed between the two weapons.
She'd have been a hit in Scouting.
A powerful toss of her arm flung the flame dagger through the doorway.
'Close it!' she cried, shoving at one side of the door.
I leaned against the other to push while the kid scooped paper and beer cans and cigarette butts out of the guiderails.
The rats began to howl and hiss in agony and release. The doors edged closer together. Through the shrinking crack sighed the tired sound of death.
The doors ground shut. I sat down in the rubble and felt my age.
Ann slipped her knife into its sheath and returned it to her purse. The things a woman hangs on to.
'Let's go,' she said. 'We can't stay around here.'
I dabbed at the rips in my neck and scalp. The others didn't look too healthy either.
'There's a doctor on the fourth floor,' I said wearily. 'He can clean us up a bit.'
Ann nodded and climbed up the escalator. I took off my jacket and offered it to the kid. She shook her head.
'No thanks. I'm used to it. I'm no traffic stopper, anyway.'
We followed Ann up the moribund escalator to reach lobby level. Old drunken and drugged eyes watched us head toward the elevator. The excitement was too much for some of them-eyes began to unglaze and return to life. Luckily, the elevator waited for us at lobby level. We stepped inside before anyone had a stroke.
La Vecque's office door opened. A young, muscular man in a white tunic stepped out carrying a portable cryogenic container that hummed quietly. His gaze flicked toward us-suspiciously at first. Then his look grew mystified. He probably wondered why anyone would come to La Vecque with a medical problem.
I knew why
dealt with La Vecque.
'Just back from Disneyland,' I said merrily.
He frowned and lugged the freeze unit quickly toward the stairs.
I pounded on the office door. Behind it clattered the sounds of frantic tidying. After a few moments, La Vecque piped frantically, 'Who's there? I've got a shotgun!'
'Relax, Doc. It's me. Ammo.'
The door creaked open, hesitated for an instant, then swung wider.
'Who're they?' the old bird asked, letting us in.
'Casualties, Doc. That's as deep as the inquiries get. I was hoping you'd fix us up.'
'Sure, Dell, sure.'
He had us shower one by one in the broom closet he had for a washroom. We put on paper gowns, and he checked each of us in turn.
The kid passed with not much more than a few questions and a quick glance-over. Ann had a nasty-looking rip on her arm plus scratches on her face and shoulders as if she'd been thrown head first through a plate glass window. He tinkered with her while I rested.
By the time he got to me, I'd stopped bleeding. The first thing he did was to clean the wounds, which started the blood oozing again. He examined my scalp with an irritating lassitude.
