“We’re making headway,” my brother remarked, and I nodded.
The road widened abruptly and acquired a concrete surface. There were canals on both sides, full of muddy water. Leaves, small branches, and colored feathers glided along their surfaces.
I suddenly became lightheaded and a bit dizzy, but “Breathe slowly and deeply,” said Random, before I could remark on it. “We’re taking a short cut, and the atmosphere and the gravitation will be a bit different for a time. I think we’ve been pretty lucky so far, and I want to push it for all it’s worth—get as close as we can, as quickly as we can.”
“Good idea,” I said.
“Maybe, maybe not,” he replied, “but I think it’s worth the game— Look out!”
We were climbing a hill and a truck topped it and came barreling down toward us. It was on the wrong side of the road. I swerved to avoid it, but it swerved, too. At the very last instant, I had to go off the road, onto the soft shoulder to my left, and head close to the edge of the canal in order to avoid a collision.
To my right, the truck screeched to a halt. I tried to pull off the shoulder and back onto the road, but we were stuck in the soft soil.
Then I heard a door slam, and saw that the driver had climbed down from the right side of the cab, which meant that he probably was driving on the proper side of the road after all, and we were in the wrong. I was sure that nowhere in the States did traffic flow in a British manner, but I was certain by this time that we had long ago left the Earth that I knew.
The truck was a tanker. It said ZUNOCO on the side in big, blood-red letters, and beneath this was the motto “Wee covir the werld.” The driver covered me with abuse, as I stepped out, rounded the car, and began apologizing. He was as big as I was, and built like a beer barrel, and he carried a jack handle in one hand.
“Look, I said I’m sorry,” I told him. “What do you want me to do? Nobody got hurt and there was no damage.”
“They shouldn’t turn goddamn drivers like you loose on die road!” he yelled. ”You’re a friggin’ menace!”
Random got out of the car then and said, “Mister, you’d better move along!” and he had a gun in his hand.
“Put that away,” I told him, but he flipped the safety catch off and pointed.
The guy turned around and started to run, a look of fear widening his eyes and loosening his jaw.
Random raised the pistol and took careful aim at the man’s back, and I managed to knock his arm to the side just as he pulled the trigger.
It scored the pavement and ricocheted away.
Random turned toward me and his face was almost white.
“You bloody fool!” he said. “That shot could have hit the tank!”
“It could also have hit the guy you were aiming at.”
“So who the hell cares? We’ll never pass this way again, in this generation. That bastard dared to insult a Prince of Amber! It was your honor I was thinking about.”
“I can take care of my own honor,” I told him, and something cold and powerful suddenly gripped me and answered, “for he was mine to kill, not yours, had I chosen,” and a sense of outrage filled me.
He bowed his head then, as the cab door slammed and the truck took off down the road.
“I’m sorry, brother,” he said. “I did not mean to presume. But it offended me to hear one of them speak to you in such a manner. I know I should have waited to let you dispose of him as you saw fit, or at least have consulted with you.”
“Well, whatever,” I told him, “let’s get back onto the road and get moving, if we can.”
The rear wheels were sunken up to their hubcaps, and as I stared at them, trying to decide the best way to go about things, Random called out, “Okay, I’ve got the front bumper. You take the rear and we’ll carry it back to the road—and we’d better deposit it in the left lane.”