the dead lamb's Mother

Klaski fishes the logic bullets out of the well, using the netting on Lewis's equipment pack. The task takes a while, but she goes at it with total focus. When they are out, she picks them up and lets them spill through her fingers. They look like jewels and smell like fertilizer. They seem to resonate slightly in her hands, like bells.

'This is what everyone wants so badly,' she says. Her voice is shaking. 'The mathematics of the Grid. The master key of creation. The code to an alien mind.'

Klaski sits back on her heels.

'So Arla had a secret. She took the logic bullets out of the mines and hid them in the well. I wonder if it's done anything to them . . .'

She smooths them in her hands, looking for signs of cracks or flaws. Not that she would know. She's never seen logic bullets before.

'I thought it was suicidal behavior but she was just checking on her treasure trove. What was she going to do with them? Keep them from MF?'

You can almost hear Arla now. 'The machines will use this. They'll build better weapons. They'll get control. They'll find the Grid's weaknesses, understand its thought.'

Klaski laughs.

'Yes, it's true, folks - Joanne Klaski walks off with the door prize.'

She freezes. She has realized that someone is watching her. She focuses her eyes on the spaces within the Grid. There are several someones, actually, and they all look the same.

Klaski drops the logic bullets in a cascade of melodic tones and brandishes her ray gun.

'You keep away from me!' she yells.

Serge's little girls – they're like wrapping a live lamb in the skin of a dead one so the dead lamb's mother will accept it – is that what the Grid is doing? Just getting under our skin, again and again.

Because Klaski can't seem to bring herself to shoot them. Not unless they move first. They don't. They are scarcely more than eyes in a dark forest.

She flips open her Swatch.

'Major Galante? Machine Front? It's. . .it's Lieutenant Klaski, you don't know me, I'm under Captain Serge . . . you know, she had Dante but I don't know how. . .? Hello? Machine Front? Mayday?'

She waits a while. Her Swatch plays Madonna's 'Borderline' and the cursor flashes. Then a mechanical voice says, 'Attempting connection to Major Galante. Please wait.'

'Galante.'

'Oh! Major Galante, this is Lieutenant Klaski - can you hear me?'

'Yeah, I got you, Klaski, where you guys been? I keep calling and getting no response.'

'Major, it's bad, I lost the others. I think they're all. . .they're not coming back. Uh, can you tell me how to get to your position?'

'My advice is to get your flier up again. We need Gossamer.'

'I can't. It's damaged. Shot down.'

'Gossamer's damaged? No wonder I can't get through. I've tried to call Sergeant Lewis about fifty times. What's going on over there? Let me speak to Dr. Gonzalez.'

'She's dead, ma'am. I'm the only one left and I—'

Her face is rubberizing and her voice bubbles with tears.

Galante is cursing freely.

'How close are you to the mines? You should be nearly at the perimeter. Get a grip. Lieutenant, and get yourself to safety. I can't come looking for you now, I got problems of my own.'

'I really need to talk to you in person, Major Galante. There's some things I just can't explain over a Swatch. Can't you send me your position and I can come to you instead?'

'Sure, if you think you can walk through about ten thousand golems and survive. We're under ambush. You don't want to be here. Get up to the mines. If you can make it that far, my guys will take care of you. Copy?'

'Yeah,' croaks Klaski tearfully. 'l copy.'

The link cuts. Klaski takes a shuddery breath. 'How am I going to get there from here?'

And you remember the dead Grid, cutting a road in the direction of the mines. Its edge is near here. You send files to her Swatch, hoping she'll take the hint.

The Swatch chirps a few bars of 'Red Skies at Night' and Klaski answers easily. She looks deflated when she realizes it's only a data transmission from Gossamer. Then she fishes around in the Swatch for a long time before she finds the visual of your flyover showing the dead Grid and how it leads to the mines.

'I hope this works,' she moans.

Klaski counts the logic bullets. There are forty-seven. She packs them in Hendricks's knapsack, dumping out various clothes, cassette tapes and toiletries in the process. After she's taken Thriller she incinerates these. She picks up Gossamer and drapes you across her own backpack much as Arla did. Then Klaski picks up Hendricks's pack with the logic bullets and hangs them around her front, like a kangaroo pouch, and sets off.