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.“Er …” said George.The headlights came on.George and the Gunner were splashed against the raincoat gray of the walls by the high beams, like cartoon prisoners caught in a searchlight.“Help?” George shouted hopefully to the face behind the steering wheel in front of him.The face looked through him, then away as it craned around to back out of the parking space.“He can’t see you,” said the Gunner.The lights swept off them as the Mercedes chunked out of reverse, found drive, and squealed away down the rows of parked cars, looking for the exit.“Why can’t he see me?” he asked, feeling like he shouldn’t have shouted help, as if it had somehow, given his situation, been rude.“Oh.Well, he can see you.His eyes work, but he can’t see you in his head.His brain won’t let him.”“Because?” said George.“Because he’s a normal rational bloke—apart from driving a German car—and normal rational people don’t believe you can walk around London with statues.Stands to reason—it’s impossible.So his mind won’t believe his eyes.It’s a protection thing.If he could see us he’d know he was, y’ know …”“Doolally.”“That’s the ticket.”“Why can/see you?”The Gunner indulged in some more scratching, then stood up suddenly and stretched out the kinks in his neck.“Because you done something.Dunno what, but it must have been bad to get the taints so angry.Suppose we’ll have to find out what it was, but I’ll tell you this, and I’ll tell you for nothing an’all—it was bad enough to drop you out of your London, into my London.And that ain’t good.Not for you.”“What do you mean, your London?”“I mean the London where the taints hate the spits, and things that stay still in your London move and hunt and fight.Didn’t think your London was the only one, did you? London Town’s more than just any old city.It’s like the rock and the clay and the dirt it sits on.It’s got layers.You just fell through one into another.Now, come on, we got to go ask the sphinxes how we can best solve—”He stopped.Ears pricked.George stepped closer to him without thinking about it.“What did you hear?”“Nothing.I mean, I heard something stop, but the something was so quiet I didn’t notice it until it suddenly wasn’t there.”Footsteps started again, this time easily audible, heading for them.The Gunner relaxed.“It’s all right.It’s just a person.Stand easy.Nothing to worry about.”“Nothing to worry about?”The Gunner shook his head in disappointment.“If you ain’t going to listen there’s no point me flapping my lip, is there? I told you.Normal people can’t see us, because to them we, I, am impossible, right?” He pointed.“So she can’t see us.Look.”A twelve-year-old girl with dark hair and a sheepskin coat walked toward the empty car bay they stood at the end of.The Gunner waved at her.Looked at George.“See.Nothing.Try it.Make a face.Blow a raspberry.She won’t be able to see you, I promise.”He nudged George.George waved at her.Her face didn’t change.He stuck his tongue out and made a face.“See,” said the Gunner, “she can’t see us because her mind won’t let her.”“I can see you fine,” said Edie.“I’m just waiting for you to stop making stupid faces and say something sensible.”The Gunner stared at her.George stared at the Gunner.The Gunner looked down at George.“Ah,” he said.“Interesting.That’s not meant to happen.Unless …”His voice trailed off like the smoke from his cigarette.And they all stood there for quite a long time, not saying anything, just looking at each other.George looked at Edie, Edie looked at the Gunner, and the Gunner looked right back at her.George felt the tiniest bit left out of the staring contest.So he broke the silence.“Who are you?”Edie didn’t answer.“Okay.Why are you here?”She broke eye contact with the Gunner long enough to shoot George a look that was fierce and contemptuous in roughly equal proportions.“I followed you.Obviously.”“Why?”“Because I’ve seen statues move.Lots of times.But I’ve never seen anyone else see it.So.”Now she gave up trying to outstare the Gunner and looked at George.He realized her eyes were the same deep dark brown as her hair, as deep brown can get before it becomes black.So dark that you couldn’t really see where the eye stopped and the iris began.This was a little unsettling.For all he knew, the irises were pinpricks of hate.“So what?” he asked.“So I thought you might be like me.”“He ain’t,” said the Gunner, still looking hard at her.“He’s nothing like you.”Edie lifted her chin.Maybe it was to look up into the Gunner’s face.Maybe it was just defiance.George thought it was probably both, but what he thought on top of all that was that the only thing weirder than finding yourself talking to a statue that talked back and shot things was seeing someone else do it.Somehow, standing to one side and watching something impossible happening made you a lot more woozy than doing it yourself.He found his hand had excavated the lump of plasticene in his pocket and was kneading it nervously.“Why not?” asked Edie.“Because,” said the Gunner, as if that ended it, and walked past her, heading for the exit ramp.George and Edie looked at each other.“Er,” he said.That didn’t sound impressive.So he tried “Um"—which sounded just as pointless as the last time he had used it.The black eyes blinked at him once.Then turned away as Edie strode off after the Gunner.“Hey,” she spat, “’because’ isn’t an answer.Why isn’t he like me?”The Gunner stood on the ramp, looking up at the rain coming down.“I’m talking to you.”The Gunner turned very fast and grabbed her wrist.She went to bite him, striking in the same swift snake action with which she’d bitten the bus conductor, but stopped before her teeth hit the bronze hand.Instead she growled in anger and kicked him.All she hurt was her foot.He reached for the collar of her coat and lifted her until they were eyeball to eyeball.“I heard you,” he said.“So why isn’t he like me? He can see you.He’s just like me.He’s—”The Gunner cut her off.“He ain’t like you.Ain’t like you at all.No one’s like you….”She struggled against the grip on the scruff of her coat, but it was about as effective as kicking him.“No one’s like you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]