45

　　These violent delights have violent ends.

　　The countertop in Supply rattled with the implements of war. Guns, freshly milled and whollyforbidden, were lined up like so many sticks of steel. Knox picked one up—could felt the heat in abarrel recently bored and rifled—and hinged the stock to expose the firing chamber. He reached intoone of the buckets of shiny bullets, the casings chopped from thin tubes of pipe and packed withblasting powder, and slotted one into the brand-new gun. The operation of the machine seemedsimple enough: point and pull the lever.

　　“Careful where you aim that,” one of the men of Supply said, leaning out of the way.

　　Knox raised the barrel toward the ceiling and tried to picture what one of these could do. He’donly ever seen a gun once, a smaller one on the hip of that old deputy, a gun he’d always figured wasmore for show. He stuffed a fistful of deadly rounds in his pocket, thinking how each one could endan individual life and understanding why such things were forbidden. Killing a man should be harderthan waving a length of pipe in their direction. It should take long enough for one’s conscience to getin the way.

　　One of the Supply workers emerged from the stacks with a tub in his hands. The bend of his backand sag of his shoulders told Knox the thing was heavy. “Just two dozen of these so far,” the mansaid, hoisting the bin to the counter.

　　Knox reached inside and pulled out one of the heavy cylinders. His mechanics and even some ofthe men and women in yellow eyed the bin nervously.

　　“Slam that end on something hard,” the man behind the counter said, just as calmly as if he weredoling out an electrical relay to a customer and giving some last-minute installation advice, “like awall, the floor, the butt of your gun—anything like that. And then get rid of it.”

　　“Are they safe to carry?” Shirly asked as Knox stuffed one into his hip pocket.

　　“Oh yeah, it takes some force.”

　　Several people reached in the tub and clattered around for one. Knox caught McLain’s eyes as shetook one for herself and slotted it into a pocket on her chest. The look on her face was one of cooldefiance. She must have seen how disappointed he was in her coming, and he could tell at a glancethat there would be no reasoning with her.

　　“All right,” she said, turning her gray-blue eyes toward the men and women gathered around thecounter. “Listen up. We’ve got to get back open for business, so if you’re carrying a gun, grab someammo. There are strips of canvas over there. Wrap these things up as best you can to keep them outof sight. My group is leaving in five minutes, got that? Those of you in the second wave can wait inthe back, out of sight.”

　　Knox nodded. He glanced over at Marck and Shirly, both of whom would join him in the secondwave; the slower climbers would go first and act casual. The stouter legs would follow and make astrong push, hopefully converging on thirty-four at the same time. Each group would be conspicuousenough—combined, they might as well sing their intentions while they marched.

　　“You okay, boss?” Shirly rested her rifle on her shoulder and frowned at him. He rubbed his beardand wondered how much of his stress and fear was shining through.

　　“Fine,” he grumbled. “Yeah.”

　　Marck grabbed a bomb, stashed it away, and rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Knox felt apang of doubt. He wished the women didn’t have to get involved—at least the wives. He continued tohope that the violence they were preparing for wouldn’t be necessary, but it was getting harder andharder to pretend as eager hands took up arms. They were, all of them, now capable of taking lives,and he reckoned they were angry enough to do so.

　　McLain stepped through the opening in the counter and sized him up. “This is it, then.” Shereached out a hand.

　　Knox accepted it. He admired the strength in the woman. “We’ll see you on thirty-five and go upthe last level together,” he said. “Don’t have all the fun without us.”

　　She smiled. “We won’t.”

　　“And good climbing.” He looked to the men and women gathering up behind her. “All of you.

　　Good luck and see you soon.”

　　There were stern nods and clenched jaws. The small army in yellow began to file for the door, butKnox held McLain back.

　　“Hey,” he said. “No trouble until we catch up, okay?”

　　She slapped his shoulder and smiled.

　　“And when this does go down,” Knox said, “I expect you at the very back, behind the—”

　　McLain stepped closer, a hand gripping Knox’s sleeve. Her wrinkled face had suddenly hardened.

　　“And tell me, where will you be, Knox of Mechanical, when the bombs fly? When these men andwomen who look up to us are facing their gravest test, where will you be?”

　　Knox was taken aback by the sudden attack, this quiet hiss that landed with all the force of ashout.

　　“You know where I’ll—” he started to answer.

　　“Damn straight,” McLain said, releasing his arm. “And you’d better well know that I’ll see youthere.”