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He pointed to it. "Through there," he said.
They walked to the door and tried the knob. It opened easily, and they entered the back room. It
was huge and dark and filled with noise. Generators were spaced in even rows in all directions, their
humming and turning almost too loud to hear. Stavin' Chain whined and cowered, and they could all
feel the blast of oppression that beat down on them from the screaming machines. Belizaire brought
the rifle up and held it ready, on guard.
"You go first," Progress said, his attempt at quiet raised nearly to a scream. "You the only one
knows which way through here."
If Slim thought about it, the vision, the feel of Nadine retreated from him. But if he simply
followed his feet, the tug of power, as if he'd walked this way before, his feet led him. Visions
whispered through his mind, as of things he had seen before. But sometimes the angle was different,
as if he'd looked down on them from above.
The room was dry, too dry, shaped as if by spirits trying to duplicate the façade of humanity. The
walls and floor were covered with sheets of black granite, worn by the passage of uncounted feet. On
the floor, scattered, lay the twisted frames and shattered glass of huge lamps that had once hung from
the high ceiling. All scraped along the walls was the detritus of what looked like years of trashy
neglect. There were oily spills on the floor. Some had soaked in, some was fresh and glistening. There
was also evidence, unrepaired, of fires in the generating plant's history.
It was like passing through a cavern that had been transformed into a vast dwelling place for the
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huge machines that sat spaced and hulking on the floor. The struts and rods and boards of
freestanding catwalks were indistinguishable from crowds of stalactites in the darkness.
And through it all, Slim saw nothing but the signs of ruin and decay, held together by artificial
power and will. He felt the oppressiveness, as though a heavy weight of futility were being hammered
into his mind. He thought he saw or heard rats or lizards, and he smelled the stench of rot. In the hot
air, the hum of the generators filled his body with unpleasant vibration.
He moved forward to crouch in what he thought would be the shadow of one of the generators.
Belizaire, with his gun, and Progress, leading Stavin' Chain, followed behind him. He closed his eyes
and concentrated on feeling Nadine. It was strange for him to think about what he was doing. Was he
using magic, he wondered, or ESP, or what? The power of the blues? The power of love? Whatever it
was, in this world, it seemed to work, and work well, so far. He could feel Nadine's existence, her
breath and her life, straight ahead of him. With his eyes closed, looking into darkness, Nadine's
location showed as a dim blue glow that he started moving toward.
As he crept forward, so did the strange, unwanted thoughts in his mind. What if he were to die
here? He'd done so little with his life and there were so many things he wanted to do. So much he
hadn't experienced. He'd never thought of death as something imminent, inevitable; never imagined it
as real. Death was something that had always been somewhere down the road. He couldn't conceive of
his life ending without him making love to Nadine once more, without him knowing her, having the
chance to know her. He couldn't imagine or tolerate the thought of dying without having the time to
prove he could make a relationship work, to prove to himself he could be a good husband, a good
man. It would be too unfair for him to die before he'd even begun to live.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud crack! next to his ear, immediately followed by an even
louder explosion from behind him. His eyes focused on his surroundings and he saw a man lying
motionless on the floor, a few yards ahead. There was a pistol in his limp, outstretched hand. He
looked back and saw a look of distaste and displeasure on Belizaire's face. The barrel of the long gun
was smoking.
"He try to shoot you, him," Belizaire said, almost spitting the words. "He miss. I don't."
"Thanks," Slim said. He wanted to say more, would have said more, but the pull he felt from
Nadine was too strong, turning him around, urging him forward. The machine power made it seem as
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