Miriam took a deep breath. “Brill, when Paulie gets back I think we’re going to go shopping. For an all-terrain bicycle, a pair of night-vision goggles, a sewing machine, and some fabric…”

The devil was in the details. In the end it took Miriam two days to buy her bicycle. She spent the first day holed up with cycle magazines, spokehead Web sites, and the TV blaring extreme sports at her. The second day consisted of being patronized in successive shops by men in skintight neon Lycra bodysuits, to Brill’s quietly scandalized amusement. In the end, the vehicle of Miriam’s desire turned out to be a Dahon folding mountain bike, built out of chromed aluminium tubes. It wasn’t very light, but at thirty pounds—including carrying case and toolset—she could carry it across easily enough, and it wasn’t a toy. It was a real mountain bike that folded down into something she could haul in a backpack and, more importantly, something that could carry herself and a full load over dirt trails as fast as a horse.

“What is that thing?” Brill asked, when she finished unfolding it on a spread of newspapers on Paulette’s living room carpet. “It looks like something you torture people with.”

“That’s a fair assessment.” Miriam grimaced as she worked the allen keys on the saddle-post, trying to get it locked at a comfortable height. “I haven’t ridden a bike in years. Hope I haven’t forgotten how.”

“When you sit on that thing, you can’t possibly be modest.”

“Well, no,” Miriam admitted. “I plan to only use it out of sight of other people.” She finished on the saddle and began hunting for an attachment place for the toolkit. “The Swiss army used to have a regiment of soldiers who rode these things, as mounted infantry—not cavalry. They could cover two hundred miles a day on roads, seventy a day in the mountains. I’m no soldier, but I figure this will get me around faster than my feet.”

“You’ll still need clothing,” Brill pointed out. “And so will I. What I came across in isn’t suitable for stamping around in the forest in winter! And we couldn’t possibly be seen wearing your camping gear if we expect to stay in a coaching inn.”

“Yup. Which is where this machine comes in.” Miriam pointed to the other big box, occupying a large chunk of the floor. “I take it there’s no chance that you already know how to use an overlocker?”