"I'm Maria Lourdes Nazareno," she told him. "I've been waiting for you sixteen days."
"I didn't realize I was expected," Harry replied.
"Always," the woman said. "How is Tesla, by the way?"
"You know Tesla?"
"I met her on this same corner, three years ago."
"Popular place," Harry remarked, "is there something special about it?"
"Yes," the woman replied, with a little laugh. "Me. How is she?"
"As crazy as ever, last time we spoke," Harry said.
"And you? Are you crazy too?"
"Very possibly."
The response seemed to please the woman. She lifted her head, and for the first time Harry saw her eyes. Her irises were flecked with gold.
"I gave Tesla a gun," the woman went on. "Does she still have it?" Harry didn't reply. "D'Amour?"
"Are you what I think you are?" Harry murmured.
"What do you mean?"
"You know damn well."
Again, the smile. "It was the eyes that gave it away, yes? Tesla didn't notice. But then I think she was high that day."
"Are there many of you?"
"A very few," Maria replied, "and the greater part of all of us is Sapas Humana. But there's a tiny piece"-she put thumb and forefinger a quarter of an inch apart to demonstrate how little-"a tiny piece of me which Quiddity calls to. It makes me wise."
"How?"
"It lets me see you and Tesla coming."
"Is that all you see?" "Why? Do you have something in mind?"
"Yes I do." "What?"
"Kissoon."
The woman visibly shuddered. "So he's your business."
"Is he here?"
"No."
"Has he been here?"
"No. Why? Do you expect him?"
"I'm afraid so."
The woman looked distressed. "We thought we were safe here," she said.
"We haven't tried to open a neirica. We don't have the power. So we thought he wouldn't notice us."
"I'm afraid he knows you're here." "I must go. I must warn everyone." She took hold of Harry's hand, her palms clammy. "Thank you for this. I will find some way to repay you."
"There's no need."
"oh, but there is," she said, and before Harry could protest further she'd gone, off across the street and out of sight.
He stayed in Mammoth overnight, though he was pretty certain that the Nazareno woman was telling the truth, and Kissoon was not in the vicinity. Weary after so many weeks of travel, he retired to bed early, only to be woken a little after one by a rapping on his door.
"Who is it?" he mumbled as he searched for the light.
The answer was not a name but an address. "One-twoone, Spiro Street," said a low sibilant voice.
"Maria?" he said, picking up his gun and crossing to the door. But by the time he had it open the speaker had disappeared from the hallway.
He dressed, and went down to the lobby, got the whereabouts of Spiro Street from the night manager, and headed out. The street he sought was on the very edge of town, many of its houses in such an advanced state of disrepair he was amazed to see signs of occupancy: rusty vehicles in the driveways, bags of trash heaped on the hard dirt where they'd once had lawns. One-two-one was in a better state than some, but was still a dispiriting sight. Comforted by the weight of his gun, Harry stepped up to the front door. It stood a couple of inches ajar.
"Maria?" he said. The silence was so deep he had no need to raise his voice.
There was no reply. Calling again, he pushed the door open, and it swung wide. There was a fat white candle-set on a dinner plate surrounded by beads@n the threadbare rug. Squatting in front of it, with her eyes downcast, was Maria.
"It's me," he said to her. "It's Harry. What do you want?"
"Nothing, now," said a voice behind him. He went for his gu. n, but before his fist had closed on it there was a cold palm gnpping the back of his skull. "No," the voice said simply.
He showed his weaponless hands.
"I got a message-" Harry said.
Another voice now; this the message carrier. "She wanted to see you," he said.
"Fine. I'm here."
"Except you're too damn late," the first man said. "He found her already."
Harry's stomach turned. He looked hard at Maria. There was no sign of life. "Oh Jesus."
"Such easy profanity," said the message carrier. "Maria said you were a holy man, but I don't think you are."
The palm tightened against the back of Harry's head, and for one sickening moment he thought he heard his skull creak. Then his ton-nentor spoke, very softly: "I am you, and you are love-"
:,Stop that," Harry growled.
'I'm just reading your thoughts, D'Amour," the man replied. "Trying to find out whether you're our enemy or our f'riend."
"I'm neither." "You're a death-bringer, you know that) First New York-"
"I'm looking for Kissoon."
"We know," came the reply. "She told us. That's why lk she sent her spirit out, to find him. So you could be a hero, and bring him down. That's what you dream of, isn't it?"
"Sometimes- "Pitiful.
"After all the hann he's done your people I'd have thought you'd be happy to help me." "Maria died to help you," came the reply. "Her life is our contribution to the cause. She was our mother, D'Amour."
"Oh-I'm sorry. Believe me, I didn't want this."
"She knew what you wanted better than you did," the message carrier replied. "So she went out and found him for you. He came after her and sucked out her soul, but she found him."
"Did she have time to tell you where he is?"
I 11
'Yes.
"Are you going to tell me?"
"So eager," the skull holder said, leaning close to Harry's ear. "He killed your mother, for Christ's sake," Harry said. "Don't you want him dead?" "What we want is irrelevant," the other son replied, "we learned that a long time ago." "Then let me want it for you," Harry said. "Let me find some way to kill the sonofabitch." "Such a murderous heart," the man at his ear murmured. "Where are your metaphysics now?" "What metaphysics?" "I am you, and you are love-"
"That's not me," Harry said. "Who is it, then?"
"If I knew that@' "If you knew that?" "Maybe I wouldn't be here, ready to do your dirty work." There was a lengthy silence. Then the message carrier said: "Whatever happens after this-" "Yes?"
"Whether you kill him or he kills you-"
"Let me guess. Don't come back."
"Right."
"You've got a deal."
Another silence. The candle in front of Maria flickered.
"Kissoon's in Oregon," the message carrier said. "A town called Everville."
"You're sure?" There was no reply. "I guess you are." The hand didn't move from the back of Han-y's head, though there was no further response from either of the sons. "Have we got some further business?" Harry asked.
Again, silence.
"If we're done, I'd like to get going; get an early start in the morning."
And still, silence. Finally, Harry reached round and tentatively touched the back of his head. The hand had gone, leaving only the sensation of contact behind. He glanced round. Both of Maria's children had disappeared.
He blew out the candle in front of the dead woman, and said a quiet goodbye. Then he went back to his hotel, and plotted his route to Everville.
PART FIVE. PARADE
Not for the first time in the dark years since the Loop, Tesla dreamed of fleas. A veritable tsunami of fleas, that rose over Harmon's Heights with the wreckage of America on its busy crest, and teetered there, ready to drop at a moment's notice. In its itching shadow, Everville had become a lagoon city. Main Street was a solid river of fleas, upon which makeshift rafts were paddled from house to house, rescuing people from the leaping surf.