Accordingly, we made a point of moving conservatively, staying close to shore and only traveling in the darkest part of the night. And eventually, we reached a familiar stretch of the river. We made our way to the shore and came up with a plan. We’d hike in closer to Garrick's Spine then wait until dark to make for the transit station.
“So how will we handle this,” Hugh said, gesturing to the backpack.
“Maybe the fact that there are two of us will throw them off,” I replied. “Plus, I’ve altered my appearance. Again. You probably aren't on anyone's radar yet.”
Hugh said nothing, but leaned around me and peered at my backpack in an exaggerated manner.
“I know, it sticks out like a sore thumb. Or like a backpack with a large cube in it. I wonder if I could pad it out, or get a bigger pack.”
“I don't think there's any help for it,” he replied. “We can't hide Bender's matrix. If were seen carrying around a box big enough to conceal it, we’ll probably be questioned anyway. At least the backpack gives us more mobility. At this stage, I don't think subtlety is going to be of much benefit.”
“The run-like-hell portion of the program?” I said with a small laugh.
“That, and just going through at night will be our biggest advantage.”
“True. We have better night vision. Let's hope we don't run into Officer Friendly though.”
A quick glance of the sun confirmed we would be at Garrick's Spine around nightfall if we left now and took it easy.
It took slightly longer than expected to get to the town, so it was full dark by the time we arrived. As I always did, I stop to admire the stellar display.
“That's just awesome,” I said, pointing up at the heavens.
“Sure is,” he replied.
“Interestingly, the constellations are accurate, based on what the Quinlans would have seen from their planet. I love the attention to detail.”
We got our fill of the view and the a few moments of Zen before we crossed the city limits into the town proper.
Garrick did not particularly go in for street lights. Illumination from windows helped a little, but for the most part, you’d have to bring your own light if you were moving around at night. We did, in fact, see a couple of individuals walking along holding lanterns above their heads. We avoided them on principle. There was no upside to getting noticed.
The town was quiet, as befitted a society that rose and set with the sun. Occasional lowing sounds from hounds provided the only real breaks in the silence. But a couple of times we heard furtive sounds of movement with no attendant lantern light. I wasn't interested in finding out the source. We consistently moved in the opposite direction. Then, when we were about halfway through Garrick, a series of loud popping sounds broke the nocturnal quiet. Both Hugh and I prairie-dogged, looking around with night vision turned up to max. There was no movement, except a slight fog wafting through the streets.
Wait. Fog? Fog required a specific set of meteorological circumstances to form. Circumstances that were even more rare in Heaven's River. And we did not have that particular set of circumstances at the moment.
“I have a bad feeling,” Hugh said.
Evidently having reached the same conclusion at the same time, we started edging toward a side street, eyeballs darting in all directions at once. The separate images still disoriented me, so I frame-jacked slightly, to ensure I could closely examine each view. Then, from the shadows of the adjoining streets, came several groups of Quinlans carrying pistols and wearing what could only be gas masks.
“I think we should leave,” Hugh said.
“Ya think?” I growled. “Which way? Do you see an opening?”
“No, this looks very well-planned. We may have to go up.”
I followed Hugh’s gaze. A series of leaps and grabs would place us on the roof of this one-story building. I couldn't tell anything from there, even with night vision - there wasn't enough light to make out how the building connected to its neighbors.
But we didn't have a lot of options. Not bothering to comment, I leapt for the first hold and began hauling myself up. I could hear Hugh following me. I could also hear the pings of flechettes bouncing off the wall. None had struck me yet, but I couldn't tell about my backpack. Would the flechettes penetrate the material? Would they harm the matrix?
With a snarl, I redoubled my efforts and popped over the top of the wall. I had a few moments of peace while the shooters concentrated their fire on Hugh. A few muttered curses showed he'd been hit. I thought I saw a way up to a nearby second-floor window, but I wouldn’t know for sure until I was closer. Banging from street level made it clear that our pursuers were trying to get into the building whose roof we were currently occupying. We needed to be elsewhere. It was not the time for subtlety.
I hit the wall to the next building, grabbed a few handholds, then pulled myself up using the window sill. The window was partly open and I butted the frame upward with my head, then pulled myself in. I spared a second to admire the athleticism of the Mannies. No Quinlan - or human - would've managed that feet. We were further advertising our existence by doing this, but I didn't see an alternative.
There was a thump as Hugh rolled in behind me. We were in a bedroom, but there didn't appear to be any occupants. I open the door and we snuck down the hall, trying to avoid any creaky boards. This appeared to be
