Tom found Highway One just after midday, and turned onto it, heading north. Farther south, where the road ran parallel to the Dessault Mountains, it had completely vanished beneath the soil of the new desert. Here, it extended out in the open, sometimes for kilometers before high dunes covered it again. They slowly diminished the farther north you went, until half a day past Mount StOmer they ended altogether. It was easy to follow the road, though. Every vehicle left tracks along the line of the concrete underneath the dunes. You could even find the road in the dark.

When he was on the crest of one dune, he saw a dark figure by the side of the tracks a few hundred meters ahead. “What the hell is that?”

“What’s what?” Hagen shouted.

“Will you turn your fucking music off,” Tom told him. That was another thing: Hagen played his jazzy rock all day long at full volume.

“It’s a girl,” Andy said. “Yahoooo.”

Tom peered forward. No way you could tell. “Come on, guys, it’s someone with a busted truck, is all.” Not that he could see one. Not anywhere. But how else would anybody get out here?

“I’m telling you, it’s a girl.”

“Hagen, turn you music off right now, or I’m gonna throw that array out of the jeep.”

“Screw you, asshole.”

But he did turn it down. Tom gunned the Mazda down the slope. Not that he believed Andy, but…

“How much do we charge for recovery and taxi service?” Andy said with a laugh.

“Hell, I know what I’m gonna charge her,” Hagen said, and cupped his crotch.

It made Tom realize what they must look like. Filthy overalls and T-shirts, all in raggedy old sunhats, ancient shades. Unshaved for the whole three weeks. And the state of the Mazda was pretty poor. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered as they approached the figure who still hadn’t moved. He slowed the jeep.

“Told you so,” Andy said.

Hagan started an excited heavy breathing laugh as if he were some kind of retard.

“Shut up, Hagen,” Tom shouted. It really was a girl. She had short dark hair under a white peaked cap, and wore a sleeveless orange T-shirt with tight dark pants cut off just above the knees. And she was sitting in a very weird position, with her legs crossed and feet bent back somehow. All he could think of was how supple she must be to do that. A smile was growing on his face. He halted the jeep beside her. “Good afternoon, there.”

“Howdy!” Andy shouted. “Me and my brothers, we’re heading into town.”

Tom jabbed his elbow into Andy’s ribs.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hagan laughed. “We’re gonna have us a party tonight. Do you wanna party?”

To Tom’s complete surprise she stood up and grinned at them.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” said the Cat.

***

As always, lack of sleep made Ozzie testy. He unzipped his tent, flapped his arms against the chill of the early morning forest air, and wandered over to the fire they’d built last night. The Bose motile was standing beside it, feeding small chips of wood to the embers. Flames were starting to flicker again.

“Morning, Ozzie,” the Bose motile said. “I’ll have this going again in a minute. Do you want your hot chocolate?” It was speaking through a small bioneural array attached to the tip of a sensor stalk, a custom-built system that could easily be swapped for a standard Prime interface module.

“Coffee,” Ozzie grumbled. “It’ll help keep me awake.” He glowered at the tent on the other side of the small clearing that Orion and Mellanie shared.

“I’m lucky, this body doesn’t need sleep like humans. A good rest is all it takes to refresh me.”

Ozzie sat down on an ancient rotting tree trunk and started tying his boot laces up. The horses were snorting behind him, impatient for their feed. “Some humans don’t need any sleep, apparently. I mean, did you hear them last night? Man, they were at it for hours.”

“They are young.”

“Huh. They could at least be young and quiet.”

“Ozzie, you’re turning into quite a grump. Did you never have a honeymoon?”

“Yeah, yeah. Throw some eggs on the pan, will you, I’m going to see to the horses.” He busied himself with the nosebags.

Tochee was next up, unzipping the hemispherical tent that it had designed for itself. “Good morning, friend Ozzie.”

“Morning.” The array on his wrist translated his grunt into an ultraviolet pulse for Tochee. It looked like a bracelet with a black stone set in the top, the whole thing was bioneural and custom made. The experts in the CST electronics division had relished the challenge of coming up with bioluminescent ultraviolet emitters; it’d taken them the best part of six months, but the little unit functioned perfectly along the Silfen paths.

The first cup of coffee mellowed Ozzie’s temper slightly. Then the sound of human sex started to echo around the clearing, rising in pitch and intensity. The tent was shaking.

“Why do they both refer to your deity while mating?” Tochee inquired as it munched on some rehydrated cabbage. “Is it a request for a blessing?”

Ozzie shot the Bose motile a look, but of course it didn’t have body language he could read. “Uncontrollable reflex, man, look it up in your encyclopedia files.”

“Thank you, I will do so.”

Ozzie started eating his eggs and rehydrated bread. Trying to concentrate on the food.

Orion and Mellanie appeared a little while later, both smiling broadly. They held hands as they walked over to the fire.

“I boiled some water for you,” the Bose motile said.

“Probably cold by now,” Ozzie muttered.

“Would you like some teacubes?”

“Yes, please,” Mellanie said. They sat on the trunk together. She leaned against him, her hands holding his, and they smiled at each other again. “Do you have to leave?” she asked.

Ozzie chased off his mood; that was really why he was being such a dick this morning. “Yeah, ‘fraid so, man. There’s a split in the path just the other side of the clearing.”

“He’s right,” Orion said. “I can feel it.”

Mellanie gave the tall trees a wistful look. “I wish I could.”

“You’ll learn,” he said adoringly.

Ozzie caught all four of the Bose motile’s sensor stalks waving in unison. He put it down to motile laughter.

They all took a long time to pack up that morning, delaying the moment. In the end all the bags were loaded onto the horses, water canteens filled, lunches made ready in the day packs. Ozzie stood facing Tochee and Orion, feeling thoroughly miserable.

“Tochee.”

“Friend Ozzie, I have dreaded this time.”

“Me, too, man. But you’ll find your way home. We did.”

“To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.”

“Ha! Don’t believe everything humans tell you, okay?”

“Okay.” Tochee extended its manipulator flesh and shaped it into a human hand. Ozzie shook it formally. He wasn’t quite prepared for the way Mellanie threw her arms around him. There was still a small nagging issue of trust with that girl that he hadn’t resolved.

“You’re seriously going to do this?” he asked.

Mellanie gave him an innocent shocked look, which dissolved into a beautifully evil smile. “Oh, yes, I’m doing this. My inserts can record all the worlds we visit. Are you afraid I’ll beat your record of new planets to walk across?”

“No. But you’re at the top of the unisphere. That interview could have turned Michelangelo into your coffee boy. You knew that.”

She gave him a curious, distant smirk. “Black, one sugar.”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought you’d get it, you of all people. It’s far better to travel than to arrive, right? Yeah, I made it to the top. Now what? Stay there for five hundred years? On the way up I found out what it takes to get there, and what I’ll have to do to stay there. I thought I could do it, I really did. I thought I could be harder and nastier than all the rest. Actually, I can be, which is the really awful thing. But I found I don’t like the price. It’s not who I am—I don’t think. I need a break, Ozzie. I need to sort myself out.”