Rosie,” he said.
“Night,” Cati replied, but there was no answer from Rosie.
Soon Cati could tell from Owen's even breathing that he was asleep as well. But Cati lay awake, thinking about Rosie's hands, how terrible they looked and how painful they must be.
O wen wakened to the smell of frying bacon. Dr. Diamond was busy with the pan over a roaring stove. Owen realized that he must have kept watch all night, without waking them.
“Wake up, lazybones,” Rosie said.
Owen blinked out through the hatch at the windscreen. It was completely white. “It's snowing again.”
“Going like the clappers for an hour,” Rosie said. “Too heavy to drive through.”
“We could be stuck here for days,” groaned Owen, his heart sinking. He wasn't sure if the rest of them felt the same urgency he did. He'd been dreaming about that huge moon crashing into the earth.
“Weeks,” Cati said.
“We could find out,” Rosie said.
“Yes, let's go and buy a newspaper,” Cati said sarcastically.
“Better than that.” Rosie wriggled forward into the cab and began fiddling with buttons and dials on the dashboard. Suddenly there was a burst of music.
“A radio station?” Owen said.
“Course,” Rosie said. “What, do you think we're backward round here or something?” She twirled the dial until they heard a man's voice.
“We'll be going to Metro news next,” he
said,
“but first the weather for the Tri-land area. The City and boroughs remaining cold with scattered snow showers. Temperatures remaining low in the Sound also, with pack ice reported off the south shore. Heavy snow this morning in the north county”
—“That's us,” Rosie whispered—
“which will give way to clear skies within the next hour.”
“We're about five miles north of the Speedway,” Rosie said.
“What's that?” Owen asked.
“You'll see.” Rosie grinned. “Now, that was useful of me, wasn't it? So have you made up your minds about me being a guide?”
“Come here,” Dr. Diamond said. His shrewd eyes met Rosie's. She held his gaze steadily, until the doctor reached out his right hand. “You're hired.”
Rosie spat in her palm and, despite the fact that it must have caused her great pain, she shook the doctor's hand vigorously. “We'll discuss terms later,” she said, and then she was suddenly all business. “We need to getgoing as soon as the snow stops. We don't want to get caught outside the City gates after dark. Once we're in there we'll play it by ear. You haven't got any papers, I suppose? Ah well, Mrs. Newell will know what to do with you.”
Before Owen could ask who Mrs. Newell was, Dr. Diamond had held up his hand for quiet. They listened as the radio presenter spoke.
“Mr. Magnier, chairman and Chief Seller of the Bourse, said that the supply situation was critical. Raids were carried out in inner-city districts overnight by Terminus Special Police in operations aimed at detecting those hoarding heirlooms.”
“The Specials,” Rosie hissed disdainfully.
“Who are they?” Cati asked, feeling a bit like the country cousin in front of the big-city girl.
“The police,” Rosie said. “Everybody hates them.”
“Terminus spokesman Mr. Headley earlier today said that the hostage issue would have to be revisited. In a prepared statement he said that executions were being considered.”
Owen looked at Rosie, whose face had gone very pale, but she turned away before anyone else could notice. The news ended with a traffic report that mentioned several multiple-vehicle pileups on the Speedway.
Owen and Cati exchanged nervous glances. Then the radio started playing opera, which made Owen feel queasy because it reminded him of Johnston.
But the forecast was accurate. Within an hour thesnow had stopped. Dr. Diamond stood outside shading his eyes and looking into the forest.
“Are you ready to go?” Owen asked.
“I am,” the doctor said, “but there is one problem.”
“What's that?”
“I still
“Night,” Cati replied, but there was no answer from Rosie.
Soon Cati could tell from Owen's even breathing that he was asleep as well. But Cati lay awake, thinking about Rosie's hands, how terrible they looked and how painful they must be.
O wen wakened to the smell of frying bacon. Dr. Diamond was busy with the pan over a roaring stove. Owen realized that he must have kept watch all night, without waking them.
“Wake up, lazybones,” Rosie said.
Owen blinked out through the hatch at the windscreen. It was completely white. “It's snowing again.”
“Going like the clappers for an hour,” Rosie said. “Too heavy to drive through.”
“We could be stuck here for days,” groaned Owen, his heart sinking. He wasn't sure if the rest of them felt the same urgency he did. He'd been dreaming about that huge moon crashing into the earth.
“Weeks,” Cati said.
“We could find out,” Rosie said.
“Yes, let's go and buy a newspaper,” Cati said sarcastically.
“Better than that.” Rosie wriggled forward into the cab and began fiddling with buttons and dials on the dashboard. Suddenly there was a burst of music.
“A radio station?” Owen said.
“Course,” Rosie said. “What, do you think we're backward round here or something?” She twirled the dial until they heard a man's voice.
“We'll be going to Metro news next,” he
said,
“but first the weather for the Tri-land area. The City and boroughs remaining cold with scattered snow showers. Temperatures remaining low in the Sound also, with pack ice reported off the south shore. Heavy snow this morning in the north county”
—“That's us,” Rosie whispered—
“which will give way to clear skies within the next hour.”
“We're about five miles north of the Speedway,” Rosie said.
“What's that?” Owen asked.
“You'll see.” Rosie grinned. “Now, that was useful of me, wasn't it? So have you made up your minds about me being a guide?”
“Come here,” Dr. Diamond said. His shrewd eyes met Rosie's. She held his gaze steadily, until the doctor reached out his right hand. “You're hired.”
Rosie spat in her palm and, despite the fact that it must have caused her great pain, she shook the doctor's hand vigorously. “We'll discuss terms later,” she said, and then she was suddenly all business. “We need to getgoing as soon as the snow stops. We don't want to get caught outside the City gates after dark. Once we're in there we'll play it by ear. You haven't got any papers, I suppose? Ah well, Mrs. Newell will know what to do with you.”
Before Owen could ask who Mrs. Newell was, Dr. Diamond had held up his hand for quiet. They listened as the radio presenter spoke.
“Mr. Magnier, chairman and Chief Seller of the Bourse, said that the supply situation was critical. Raids were carried out in inner-city districts overnight by Terminus Special Police in operations aimed at detecting those hoarding heirlooms.”
“The Specials,” Rosie hissed disdainfully.
“Who are they?” Cati asked, feeling a bit like the country cousin in front of the big-city girl.
“The police,” Rosie said. “Everybody hates them.”
“Terminus spokesman Mr. Headley earlier today said that the hostage issue would have to be revisited. In a prepared statement he said that executions were being considered.”
Owen looked at Rosie, whose face had gone very pale, but she turned away before anyone else could notice. The news ended with a traffic report that mentioned several multiple-vehicle pileups on the Speedway.
Owen and Cati exchanged nervous glances. Then the radio started playing opera, which made Owen feel queasy because it reminded him of Johnston.
But the forecast was accurate. Within an hour thesnow had stopped. Dr. Diamond stood outside shading his eyes and looking into the forest.
“Are you ready to go?” Owen asked.
“I am,” the doctor said, “but there is one problem.”
“What's that?”
“I still
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