Читать книгу Reborn - Vin Ph.D. Jackson - Страница 9

Almost out of the Canal now, the woman whose memories were those of a man was wishing she could remember her name. It seemed important, as if she was about to meet someone: an insane notion, considering where she was - at the end of an empty pass gazing into.... the rest of it!

Ridiculous, but it was what she felt - the end of a pass! If she was at the end, there wouldn't be any more of it. There would be plains, or.... something else, anyway. But there was more. More pass and more dunes lining it on either side. So, in effect, she was in the middle.

In which case, why did she believe she was almost through? And where was the reception committee she somehow knew would be waiting? She couldn't see them. The entire area was deserted, but she was certain she would soon be meeting people. Crazy.

Crazier still, the name thing. She was stark naked, about to front complete strangers. That in itself should have worried the hell out of her, but she was more concerned that she couldn't remember her name! It was all that mattered - just her name.

The only one she could think of was Richard. She glanced down, brushed sand from a breast, slid a hand over her belly to her pubic area, touched a mound of crisp hair. If she said her name was Richard, they'd look at her and laugh.

Whoever they were.

A movement caught her eye. A man was approaching along the pass from the direction she had come. She wasn't worried that he might see her, not now. There had been a couple of them back in the desert, a man and a woman, both heading in the same direction towards the passes. Neither had taken the slightest notice of her, or each other.

She figured they were from the Void. Where else? But they didn't seem as alive as she herself felt. Maybe they weren't. Or conversely, maybe they were and she wasn't! Now, that was a thought.

This latest joker continued up to her then walked right past, staring straight ahead without even glancing at her. It was the closest she'd been to one of them. She hadn't tried to make contact before, didn't bother now. What was to say? Apart from being naked, she had nothing in common with them. Even their respective personal bubbles were different: they couldn't see beyond theirs and she was outside hers.

The man had reached the point where she'd hesitated because she hadn't been able to remember her name. He must have known his because he walked right on. Like over the line. She was sure she saw his foot disappear first. Then all of him had gone.

She stared along the pass. He should have been walking still, making his way towards the end. But, as she'd observed before, this was the end. The pass had finished, despite what her eyes told her. Pure illusion and he had become part of it. He had crossed the line, was on the far side. Probably saying his name.

How? Another membrane? It seemed logical in a crazy kind-of way: an invisible membrane. Maybe she had to walk through like she did the first time. But to where? Two names sprang to mind - Lonfay and Nova. Maybe they were places after all, and she was on her way to one. What if she didn't like it - could she start again, pick the other? She had a feeling the choice had already been made. Something to do with destiny. You paid your money and took your chance.

Like all the other suckers. Another one was coming along the pass. She simply stood watching. No need to hide: he wouldn't notice her. If he saw her at all he would take her for another sleep-walker.

An immature thought crossed her mind, mischievous. One hand went to her breasts, began caressing them. The other stroked down over her belly, slid inside a thigh. Her eyelashes fluttered, lips pouted. Hello, sailor. Then she tensed.

He'd stopped, seemed to be looking at her. Couldn't be, of course: the others hadn't. Maybe he'd just lost his direction momentarily. Even lemmings must do it sometime. She laughed to herself - an uncertain giggle to renew a confidence which didn't quite return in full.

The man had started up again, internal compass back on track. He walked awkwardly as if he was limping. As if the stones hurt his feet like they did hers. Every so often he hopped, stumbled. Then he hobbled on.

Was it possible....? No. He was just another zombie. She quit her visual seduction. Not because she thought he could see. Just because. Put it down to boredom.

Thirty paces off he paused, looked, started hobbling again. Twenty paces and one hand dived to cover his genitals. There was a further brief hesitation. Following which, the other hand rose above his head, hung there uncertainly as if awaiting instructions. Then he smiled nervously and waved.

Christ! He sees me!

She fled in panic. Simply turned and ran along the pass. Only, the pass had finished. She was at the end.

And she was crossing the line.