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eaving him with a nauseating； shattered perspective his processing equipment couldn't cope with。 But he was moving them。 Not much； just their eyeballs； but 。 。 。
I think we can if we work together； Henry told him。 Get closer。 And stop talking out loud。 Get in my head。 Link up。
Suddenly Henry's head was fuller。 His vision clarified again； but this time the perspective wasn't quite as deep。 Only two sets of eyes instead of four： his and Owen's。
Owen put the Sno…Cat into first gear and crept forward with the lights off。 The engine's low growl was lost beneath the constant shriek of the wind； and as they closed the distance； Henry felt his hold on those minds ahead tightening。
Holy shit； Owen said； half…laughing and half…gasping。
What？ That is it？
It's you； man … it's like being on a magic carpet。 Christ； but you're strong。
You think I'm strong； wait'll you meet Jonesy。
Owen stopped the Sno…Cat below the brow of a little hill。 Beyond it was the turnpike。 Not to mention Bernie； Dana； Tommy； and Smitty； sitting in their Humvee at the top of the southbound ramp； eating cheese and crackers off their makeshift tray。 He and Owen were safe enough from discovery。 The four young men in the Humvee were clean of the byrus and had no idea they were being scoped。
Ready？ Henry asked；
I guess。 The other person in Henry's head； cool as that storied cucumber when Kurtz and the others had been shooting at them； was now nervous。 You take the lead； Henry。 I'm just flying support this mission。
Here we go。
What Henry did next he did instinctively； binding the four men in the Humvee together not with images of death and destruction； but by impersonating Kurtz。 To do this he drew on both Owen Underhill's energy … much greater than his own； at this point … and Owen Underhill's vivid knowledge of his OIC。 The act of binding gave him a brilliant stab of satisfaction。 Relief； as well。 Moving their eyes was one thing； taking them over pletely was another。 And they were free of the byrus。 That could have made them immune。 Thank God it had not。
There's a Sno…Cat over that rise east of you； laddies； Kurtz said。 Want you to take it back to base。 Right now； if you please … no questions； no ments； just get moving。 You'll find the quarters a little tight pared to your current acmodations； but I think you can all fit in； praise Jesus。 Now move your humps； God love you。
Henry saw them getting out； their faces calm and blank around the eyes。 He started to get out himself； then saw Owen was still sitting in the Sno…Cat's driver's seat； his own eyes wide。 His lips moved； forming the words in his head： Move your humps； God love you。
Owen！ e on！
Owen looked around； startled； then nodded and pushed out through the canvas hanging over his side of the 'Cat。
4
Henry stumbled to his knees； picked himself up； and looked wearily into the streaming dark。 Not far to go； God knew it wasn't； but he didn't think he could slog through another twenty feet of drifted snow； let alone a hundred and fifty yards。 On and on the eggman went； he thought； and then： I did it。 7hat's the answer； Of course。 I offed myself and now I'm in hell。 This is the eggman in h…
Owen's arm went around him 。 。 。 but it was more than his arm。 He was feeding Henry his strength。
Thank y…
Thank me later。 Sleep later； too。 For now； keep your eye on the ball。
There was no ball。 There were only Bernie； Dana； Tommy； and Smitty trooping through the snow； a line of silent somnambulists in coveralls and hooded parkas。 They trooped east on the Swanny Pond Road toward the Sno…Cat while Owen and Henry struggled on west； toward the abandoned Humvee。 The cheese and Saltines had also been abandoned； Henry realized； and his stomach rumbled。
Then the Humvee was dead ahead。 They'd drive it away； no headlights at first； low gear and quiet…quiet…quiet； skirting the yellow flashers at the base of the ramp； and if they were lucky； the fellows guarding the northbound ramp would never know they were gone。
If they do see us； could we make them forget？ Owen asked。 Give them … oh； I don't know … give them amnesia？
Henry realized they probably could。
Owen？
What？
If this ever got out； it would change eve thing。 Everything。
A pause as Owen considered this。 Henry wasn't talking about knowledge； the usual coin of Kurtz's bosses up the food…chain； he was talking about abilities that apparently went well beyond a little mind…reading。
I know； he replied at last。
5
They headed south in the Humvee； south into the storm。 Henry Devlin was still gobbling crackers and cheese when exhaustion turned out the lights in his overstimulated head。
He slept with crumbs on his lips。
And dreamed of Josie Rinkenhauer。
6
Half an hour after it caught fire； old Reggie Gosselin's barn was no more than a dying dragon's eye in the booming night； waxing and waning in a black socket of melted snow。 From the woods east of the Swanny Pond Road came the pop…pop…pop of rifle fire； heavy at first； then diminishing a little in both frequency and volume as the Imperial Valleys （Kate Gallagher's Imperial Valleys now） pursued the escaped detainees。 It was a turkey shoot； and not many of the turkeys were going to get away。 Enough of them to tell the tale； maybe； enough to rat them all out； but that was tomorrow's worry。
While this was going on … also while the traitorous Owen Underhill was getting farther and farther ahead of them … Kurtz and Freddy Johnson stood in the mand post （except； Freddy supposed； it was now nothing but a Winnebago again； that feeling of power and importance had gone）； flipping playing…cards into a hat。
No longer telepathic in the slightest； but as sensitive to the men under him as ever … that his mand had been reduced to a single soldier really made no difference … Kurtz looked at Freddy and said； 'Make haste slowly； buck … that's one saw that's still sharp。' 'Yes； boss；' Freddy said without much enthusiasm。
Kurtz flipped the two of spades。 It fluttered down through the air and landed in the hat。 Kurtz crowed like a child and prepared to flip again。 There was a knock at the 'Bago's door。 Freddy turned in that direction； and Kurtz fixed him with a forbidding look。 Freddy turned back and watched Kurtz flip another card。 This one started out well； then went long and landed on the cap's bill。 Kurtz muttered something under his breath； then nodded at the door。 Freddy； with a mental prayer of thanks； went to open it。
Standing on the top step was Jocelyn McAvoy； one of the two female Imperial Valleys。 Her accent was soft country Tennessee； the face under the boy…cropped blonde hair was hard as stone。 She was holding a spectacularly non…reg Israeli burp…gun by the strap。 Freddy wondered where she had gotten such a thing； then decided it didn't matter。 A lot of things had ceased to matter； most of them in the last hour or so。
'Joss；' Freddy said。 'What's up with your bad self？' 'Delivering two Ripley Positives as ordered。' More shooting from the woods； and Freddy saw the woman's eyes shift minutely in that direction。 She wanted to get back over there across the road； wanted to bag her limit before the game was gone。 Freddy knew how she felt。
'Send them in； lassie；' Kurtz said。 He was still standing over the cap on the floor （the floor that was still faintly stained with Cook's Third Melrose's blood）； still holding the deck of cards in his hand； but his eyes were bright and interested。 'Let's see who you found。' Jocelyn gestured with her gun。 A male voice at the foot of the stairs growled； 'The fuck up there。 Don't make me say it twice。' The first man to step past Jocelyn was tall and very black。 There was a cut down one of his cheeks and another on his neck。 Both cuts had been clogged with Ripley。 More was growing in the creases in his brow。 Freddy knew the face but not the name。 The old man； of course； knew both。 Freddy supposed he remembered the names of all the men he had manded； both the quick and the dead。
'Cambry！' Kurtz said； eyes lighting even more brightly。 He dropped the playing cards into the hat； approached Cambry； seemed about to shake hands； thought