Clever as Ibu Diane had been about discarding cars and clothing, Turk seemed to lose some of his confidence as they left the wooded lands and entered the industrialized outskirts of Port Magellan.

Coming past the oil refineries at dusk, the ocean on the left and the refineries emitting a kind of fungal glow, he said, "There's a couple of vehicles I keep seeing ever since we got on the main road. Like they're pacing us. But it could be my imagination."

"Then we shouldn't go directly to Arundji's," Diane said. "In fact we should get off the highway as soon as possible."

"I'm not saying we're being followed. It's just something I noticed."

"Assume the worst. Take the next exit. Find a gas station or somewhere we can stop without arousing suspicion."

"I know people around here," Turk said. "People I can trust, if we need a place to stay overnight."

"Thank you, Turk, but I don't think we should endanger anyone else. And I doubt Lise is anxious to make the acquaintance of one of your old girlfriends."

"Didn't say anything about a girlfriend," Turk said, but he blushed.

He pulled into a filling station attached to a retail store. This was the part of Port Magellan where the refinery workers lived, lots of prefabricated bungalows assembled in haste during the boom years and gone shabby since. He parked away from the pumps, under an umbrella tree. The last daylight had gone and there was only the yellow-orange glare of the street lamps.

"If you want to dump the car," Turk said, "there's a bus station a couple of blocks down. We can catch the bus to Rice Bay and walk to Arundji's. Won't get there till midnight, though."

"Maybe that's best," Diane said.

"Hate to abandon another vehicle, though. Who's paying for all this transportation?"

"Friends and friends of friends," Diane said. "Don't worry about it. Don't take anything out of the car."

Lise begged permission to go into the small store and buy something to eat—they hadn't stopped for a meal since breakfast—while Turk and Diane unscrewed and discarded the vehicle's license plates.

She bought cheese, crackers, and bottled water for the bus trip. At the counter she noticed a stack of disposable utility phones, the kind you pick up when you've lost your personal unit, also favored, or so she had read, by drug dealers seeking anonymity She grabbed one and added it to the groceries. Then she walked around the back of the store, bag in one hand and phone in the other.

She tapped out Brian's home number.

He picked up almost immediately. "Yes?"

Lise was briefly paralyzed by the sound of his voice. She thought about clicking off. Then she said,

"Brian? I can't talk right now, but I want you to know I'm okay."

"Lise… please, tell me where you are."