“I thought maybe you’d gone back to Tick Raw,” Gentle said, once he was aboard.
“He wouldn’t have wanted me,” Pie said. “I’ve had congress with a murderer.”
“Who’s that?”
“You, my friend, you! We’re both assassins now.”
“I suppose we are.”
“And not much welcome in this region, I think.”
“Where did you find the vehicle?”
“There’s a few of them parked on the outskirts. They’ll be in them soon enough, and after us.”
“The sooner we’re in the city the better, then.”
“I don’t think we’d be safe there for long,” the mystif replied.
It had maneuvered the vehicle so that its snub nose faced the highway. The choice lay before them. Left, to the gates of Patashoqua. Right, down a highway which ran on past the Mount of Lipper Bayak to a horizon that rose, at the farthest limit of the eye, to a mountain range.
“It’s up to you,” Pie said.
Gentle looked longingly towards the city, tempted by its spires. But he knew there was wisdom in Pie’s advice.
“We’ll come back someday, won’t we?” he said.
“Certainly, if that’s what you want.”
“Then let’s head the other way.”
The mystif turned the vehicle onto the highway, against the predominant flow of traffic, and with the city behind them they soon picked up speed.
“So much for Patashoqua,” Gentle said as the walls became a mirage.
“No great loss,” Pie remarked.
“But I wanted to see the Merrow Ti’ TV,” Gentle said.
“No chance,” Pie returned.
“Why?”
“It was pure invention,” Pie said. “Like all my favorite things, including myself. Pure invention!”