She watched until it was gone. “Air Rescue, how long is the Culbertson?”

“Twenty-six kilometers, Kim. Why do you ask?”

She’d been through it, and she tried to visualize the interior of the tunnel. But all she could remember was that it had been too dark to see anything.

She looked up the train schedules for Eagle Point. There were a half dozen commuters daily and eight long-distance passenger carriers. Freights were more numerous, but the schedules less exact. Three-oh-four was due shortly from Worldend, on the west coast. A freight. This one would be carrying flyers, furniture, building materials. Nine cars. Fully automated. No people on board. Scheduled to arrive in twenty minutes.

She opened her channel to Air Rescue. “Can you check to see whether 304 is running today and whether it’s on schedule?”

“Sure.” He paused. “Why?”

“Just do it for me. I’ll explain later.”

She brought up a map of the maglev routes. The freight would be coming in on the western line. Through the Culbertson. Its normal speed through open country approached 400 kilometers per hour. But it would slow down to 220 for the run under the mountain.

“That’s affirmative on the train, Kim,” said Air Rescue. “They’re coming and they’re on time.”

“To the second?”

“What do you mean?”

She told him what she wanted to do. He caught his breath. She couldn’t do that. Too dangerous. It wouldn’t be permitted. His instructions were that she was simply to keep running until they could bring down the shroud.

“That’s not going to work. Lasers aren’t going to kill it and I’m running out of power and I’ll be a sitting duck for it on the ground.”

“Why is it after you?”

“It doesn’t like my political views.” Kim glared at the radio. “I don’t know.” Several sets of lights had appeared in the sky. “Your people are here,” she said.

“Okay. Just keep moving.”

She counted four more police cruisers. This time they kept their distance, firing from long range, moving away when it veered after one or another of the units. She admired the coordination of the attackers, who kept hitting it from different angles. Nevertheless, the shroud did not seem to be suffering grievous damage.

Kim banked the flyer and made for the tunnel.

Behind her the red and white beams of the lasers flashed like sabers. Then her angle changed and she couldn’t see it anymore.

She was riding through the night when the sky behind her lit up.

The Air Rescue channel had been silent for several minutes. Now her contact came back up: “Okay, Kim, looks like you were right. We’re going to try something else.”

“What?”

“We’re going to attempt a midair extraction. It’ll be quicker than setting down.”

She looked at the forest below. “No,” she said.

“It’s perfectly safe.”

Her stomach turned over at the prospect. “I’m sure it is. But it’s after me. Not the aircraft. It won’t do any good to move me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Look, can we discuss this later?”

“I’m sorry. I know things are a little tense.”

“I’d be inclined to agree with that.”

“We’ve just never seen anything like this before.”

“Not covered by the operating instructions, I take it.”

“Look, Kim. We’re doing the best we can.”

“Yeah.” She softened her voice. “I know. But I’m going to do the tunnel.”

“We don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Offer me a better one.”

The talker on the other end was silent.

“I need you to help,” she said.

“Wait one.”

“Make it quick. Time’s getting short.”

She saw the southern route as she passed over it, the one used by trains traveling between Eagle Point and Terminal City. It consisted of a magnetized band about as wide as her hand was long. In forest areas it was usually set at treetop level, and was supported by a sturdy metal framework. When the angle was right, the band reflected moonlight.

Had the sun been up, she’d have been able to see the path cut through the forest by the maglevs. Moving at supersonic speeds, they created sonic booms and explosive winds that pushed aside everything close to the track. Trees and shrubbery leaned sharply away on either side, as far from passing trains as they could get. The effect was like that of the parting of the Red Sea, a leafy wilderness this time, divided by irresistible power.

She picked up the maglev route west and began to follow it toward the mountains. Beyond Eagle Point the peaks bunched up into a vast rampart, the tallest range on the planet. They were snow-covered, majestic, impassable without the tunnel. The approaches were scarred from ancient movement: deep canyons, sudden ridges, precipices.

“Hello? Air Rescue, are you there?”

Nothing. She imagined a hand over the mike and people arguing, making calls.

“For a start,” said Kim, “you need to turn off any safety devices.” Anything that would stop the train if detectors noted an obstruction in the tunnel.

“Go ahead, Doc. If you still want to do this—”

They had her title, which meant they’d checked her out. “Good. Listen, I need some details. How long is the tunnel? Exactly? What are its dimensions? Does it curve? If so, where and how much? And when will the freight enter it? I need to know to the second.”

“That might be hard to come by.”

“Why? Punch some buttons. It should be easy.”

“Not in the time available.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Tom. Tom Pace.”

“Tom, you’re all I have.”

“Kim,” Pace said, “I thought you’d want to know. We’ve called in the military.”

“That’s good. When will they get here?”

“Within the hour.”

“That might be a little behind the curve. Do you have those numbers for me yet?”

“I’m working on it.”

Ahead, a gray wall was rising and she saw the black mouth of the tunnel at its base. She was too early. She turned in a tight circle around toward the north. Buy time and give the critter a chance to get closer.

She checked her power reserve. It was down to thirteen minutes.

“Kim, I have your information.”

“Go.”

“First of all, the tunnel is straight.”

Thank God for that.

“It’s nineteen to twenty-one meters wide. Depends where you are. Eighteen meters high, but the track’s three meters off the ground, so you really only have fifteen meters clearance. The tunnel is 26.1 kilometers long. The freight will enter the western end at 9:42:45. Give or take thirty seconds. Sorry, that’s the best we can do. It’ll be down to 220 kilometers per hour on entry. You want me to repeat that?”

She checked the satellite-controlled clock. It was just past 9:31. She punched the numbers into the computer, got her results, and set the timer.

“Kim, this is not a good idea.”

“I know, Tom.” She could see the shroud coming up from the south, a glowing patch moving against the stars.

She completed her turn and started west again, trying to time her flight so she’d enter the tunnel at exactly 9:35. Her sensors picked up the route and she locked on.

“Good luck,” he said. “Safeties are off.” To his everlasting credit, he went quiet.

The timer told her she was due at the tunnel in one minute. She looked ahead at the rapidly approaching peaks and estimated she was running right on schedule.

The shroud had made up most of its lost ground and was again closing in. The mountains rose around her and she was committed, no place to go except the tunnel. Her pursuer stayed with her.

At forty seconds, she reconnected Jerry.

It immediately began getting inputs from the flyer’s various sensors. “Kim,” it said accusingly, “what have you done?”

“We have to go through the tunnel,” she told it. “I need you to do that.”

It didn’t waste time arguing. It descended slightly, lined up on the entrance, and slowed down.