“Yes,” Ryan said quickly. “That’s the answer to the question you were about to ask me. But first you have a shower and cook yourself something to eat. Then you can go play those games. I’ll be along in a while.”
“Wow, thanks. See you” And he was gone.
JAK WAS ALSO sufficiently fascinated by the video games in the small side room off the refectory to want to remain behind with Dean. All the others had crowded into the little study where Doc had made his discovery.
“I believe that the young woman who wrote this had intended to take it with her,” Doc said. “But she missed the last few pages, and here they are now.”
The paper was flimsy and delicate, faded to the palest of greens. The woman, who was nameless, had written on the backs of some old military Stock-Indent forms, using a black pen and a small, neat hand.
Doc passed the sheets to Ryan, who held them to the light. “Can’t make out the writing all that well. Mildred, can you read them to us?”
“Sure. Hand them over.” She shuffled them, checking what she was actually holding. “They’re dated, right through to January 20, the day the world ended.”
The journal began five days earlier, opening up in the middle of a sentence.
” ‘ he think he is? Living in the dark ages with his ideas on what women can and can’t do. Times like this with everything going to hell in a handbasket, it’s everyone together. Only way we’ll beat the Soviets. Luanne reckons they’ll back off and stop their game-playing. I’m not so sure.” ‘
DEAN HAD GOBBLED DOWN some cereal with add-water milk sub, eager to get to grips with the half dozen games that he’d seen so briefly the night before.
“Reckon they’ll work, Jak?”
“If do, will. If not, won’t. If not, we can try make them work.”
“Then let’s go.”
” ‘PRAYERS ANSWERED. Test came up neg, so at least no worries about maternity leave next summer. Won’t tell the major for a couple of weeks. Make the bastard sweat like I did.'”
Mildred flipped over the next page. “Just some more personal stuff about her relationships. Then Ah, then we get back to worrying about the possibility of a war.”
” ‘Tracey whispered she’d seen a blue-code intercept from the S side of the fence. Their leaders have been in secret session for nearly two days now. Something big must be going down. Or going up? Shouldn’t joke at a time like this. Hope Mom and Dad are all right back in Sioux Falls. They know about the buried control base there, but it never seems to worry them. Worries me.'”
“WOW! HOTTEST PIPE EVER.”
The machines worked off quarters, but most of them had several spare coins lying in the reject slot, as well as another dozen or so pieces of silver glinting on the carpeted floor.
Dean and Jak walked around, touching the gleaming glass, peering at the garishly illustrated facades, one labeled Grand Prix.
“What’re grand pricks?” Dean asked. “Looks like a fast wag-race game to me.”
It was a capsule, shaped like an Indy car, in brilliant crimson plastic, flecked with gold and silver. The steering wheel was dark maroon. The large screen in front of it was blank.
“Try it,” Jak said. “Get in. I’ll put jack in.”
Dean was suddenly shy. “Don’t know how to work it,” he muttered.
“Just go for it. Can’t get chilled on vid game.”
The boy adjusted the big blaster on his hip and clambered in, sliding comfortably into the cockpit. He grasped the wheel and glanced down to check the foot controls.
“Ready. I think.”
Jak put a quarter into the slot and pressed the red Start button.
There was an instant howling sound and the screen came alive, showing a starting grid, other cars on either side. A pair of lights at the top of the screen were glowing red, and a man with a flag was waiting on a dais to the right.
The lights changed to green.
The other cars disappeared in a scream of burned rubber and roaring engines. Dean stamped on the foot control. The screen shuddered, and a patronizing voice came from the speakers.