He twisted dials on the machine. Two parabolic reflectors spun, and a square of glass lit up. The machine made eerie pinging noises, and bits of light danced across the glass.
“What am I looking at?” Gavin said.
“Sources of power for automatic machinery,” Dr. Clef said impatiently. “You see? This one is Kemp. It is very close. And this tiny one is the clicky kitty.”
“What’s this one?” Gavin pointed. “It’s a different color.”
“That one has a different power source than the others.”
Gavin studied the glass a moment. His brow furrowed. “Is it. . following us?”
“Yes, of course.”
The connection clicked instantly, and a feeling of dread came over Gavin. He knew the answer, but he had to ask the question anyway. “Why is it a different power source?”
“This kind of machinery demands it. It is what happens when one grafts machine parts to human flesh.”
“Like the machine parts grafted to Susan Phipps?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Dr. Clef shut off his machine, and Gavin pushed the Lady’s engines harder, speeding them toward the Orient.