“Why?” Doc Tanner asked.
“Bad things that way, old man. Hot spots. Heavy rad counts. Muties you wouldn’t believe. They send out message to try and trap Shouldn’t talk like this. Mayor don’t relish words about the north.”
“What messages?” J.B. asked.
“On radio. Loop tape. Forbidden to listen in. Tricks folks to follow it. Nobody never came back.”
“Like the sirens’ song that so enchanted mighty Ulysses upon that wine-dark Aegean,” Doc Tanner said, catching Ryan’s eye.
“Don’t know the name, old man,” the sec man said. “But I just know for sure that anyone goes north goes up there to be killed and never comes back. I know that for sure.”
“Then we’ll fucking keep away from there,” Finnegan said, nodding.
The guard looked at him. “Blasphemy can earn you treadmill time here, Outworlder Finnegan. Mayor Sissy does not approve of swearing.”
“Sure, sir,” Finn replied. “Don’t want no trouble here, boss. Walking the line, boss.” Ryan glared at him, fearing the chubby blaster would go way over the top and bring them all some trouble.
“Good,” the sec man said. “Keep straight around the ville. Mayor’ll see you on the morrow.”
“What ’bout the militia?” the Armorer asked, halting the man at the door.
“Men here all join militia. Good at it and you get to join sec unit. Not too hard. Part-time. Patrol for curfew breakers. Guard highways. Check out the wags and the gas supply.”
“You keep ’em gassed up an’ ready?” J.B. asked casually.
“Sure. Haven’t had a runner from Ginnsburg Falls for ’bouta year now. Couple whores got men to break with them. Got caught. Good stoning, that one. Man kept dodging, even catching some of the stones. He played baseball for the ville.” The sec man laughed at the reminiscence. “Course the dumb stupe couldn’t dodge ’em all.”
THEY SPLIT UP for the rest of the day.
Ryan suggested that Doc stay in the dorm, since his age made him vulnerable for removal to the senility and euthanasia center. Doc wanted to go down and see how Lori and Krysty were, but reluctantly he agreed to remain where he was.
Finnegan offered to recce the workhouse in preparation for their visit there later that night.
J.B. checked out the big rig they’d spotted, making sure it was filled up and ready to roll, and he talked to one of the locals, who was aggrieved he hadn’t been able to go to the exposing outside the ville. The man told the Armorer that the Kenworth was the best wag in town, with a range of close to a hundred miles, even allowing for the aged engine and the deteriorated blacktops.
Ryan strolled around, trying to familiarize himself with the geography of the ville. It was a huge, sprawling place, laid out in a grid pattern, the streets crossing at right angles, the main roads running parallel to the big lake. One thing he noticed early was that Ginnsburg Falls had no dogs. In fact, not even a single domestic animal was evidentno cats, no birds in cages, no fish in tanks in the curtained windows. Intermittently Ryan spotted women peering at him through the white lace that covered most casements. Here and there boys played quietly in trim gardens, rode ramshackle old bikes or threw balls back and forth.
The exposing had cleared most of the population from the ville, so there were few civilians around to question him. There were plenty of sec men still on the streets, though. They marched in pairs, carbines slung across their shoulders.
The most exciting moment was when a young lad, who looked around twelve, came racing around a blind corner on an old bicycle much too big for him. The boy stood on the pedals, his face contorted with the effort. Ryan stepped aside, feeling the rush of wind, amused at the overreaction of terror and excitement he could sense in the boy. He heard a shrill voice, crying something that sounded like “Hiyo, Silver!” Then the sound faded into the restrained stillness of the afternoon ville.
DOC TANNER FELL ASLEEP around eleven, snoring a little, hands folded across his chest, stovepipe hat resting primly on the floor beside his bed. The other three talked quietly, mostly about the old times with the Trader, casual memories not worth forgetting.