Finally, he went back inside and wrote a note to Zebulon saying that he was going to look for valuables in the farther stacks away west—the opposite direction from where the girl was hidden—not to worry if he didn’t return that night.
After which he went back the way he had come, stopping at intervals to listen for sound. When he came to less-traveled ways, he followed his own tracks into the same dead end where he had parked earlier. He put the mesh inside his shirt and went up the tottery stack again, and over the top. The new barrier was much higher than it had been, and if he had come upon it from the front, it would have effectively stopped his looking farther. Now, however, Zebulon was gone, along with his machine, so Jeorfy climbed down into the blind alley where the girl lay.
“Come girl,” he said roughly, shaking her. “That old dog has you buried like a bone, and he’ll eat you for breakfast if we let him.”
“Who? Oh, Jeorfy! How did you find me?”
“More or less by accident, Henrietta or Imogene—though I’m sure those aren’t your real names—but discover you I did. Here’s your hands free, now rub them to life while I untie the rest of you. Damnation. Have to cut it. I won’t leave it here, either. Let him wonder, the old mule— stubborn lazy, mule that’s what he is. Let him wonder where you are, where the ropes went. Come now, we have to climb over, not to leave tracks. Take what you can carry, I’ll bring the rest.”
He stopped as they went up the side, shoveling dust from hidden areas into the mesh with his hands, sprinkling it over their tracks, again and again until they reached the top, where he looked down to be sure he had obscured any evidence of their climb. They crossed the pile and went down the other side. At the vehicle, he said, “Did he feed you?”
She shook her head, saying shamefacedly, “And there’s no toilet in there. I’m all . . .”
He flushed, saying indignantly, “It’s all right, girl. We’ll stop a little way along and you can change your clothes. Just now, we need to get well away from here.”
He took the cart out of the blind alley, winding among the stacks and coming at last to a much-traveled intersection where one more set of tracks would not betray them. He drove slowly, listening for any sound. “Where is he?” whispered Genevieve.
“He hasn’t worked that hard in years,” murmured Jeorfy. “My guess is, he’s asleep. Probably back at the dwelling.”
They came to one of the way-stations Zeb had built and Jeorfy filled water bottles while Genevieve washed herself and her clothing, wringing it out and bundling it up to dry at some later time. They ate a quick bite, but took no more time than needed. Now Jeorfy headed for the corner of the caverns he had already selected, swerving again and again onto arteries less and less traveled, sometimes circling briefly, though always returning to the direction he had predetermined.
They came upon a key station and stopped once more while Jeorfy tapped away for an hour or more. Genevieve yawned on the cart and tried to stay awake, though she couldn’t give herself any good reason for doing so. The dust became thinner and less disturbed the farther they came, the lighting gloomier, the vault lower until at last they reached an aisle leading into darkness that bore no evidence of travel at all. After circling here and there, leaving tracks in all directions, Jeorfy pulled into the way and climbed the nearest pile to tumble an avalanche of cartons behind them, a barrier that looked accidental. Now theirs were the only tracks left behind them.
“Do you know where we are?” she begged.
“More or less. I brought the map of the caverns with us. I also erased all the other maps, which means Zebulon doesn’t have one. He can find his way around the places he’s familiar with, but I don’t think he’s ever explored the rest of it. This tunnel leads out, at least on the map it does. If all goes well, you’ll be near the Tail of Merdune in time to catch your friend.”