The strain of using the machine was getting unbearable. Alex called the flier back as fast as he could, limbs raw from flight. He had to let it drop when he was still a little distance away from himself and Harry. The abrupt feeling of hitting the ground jolted harshly through his body. He pulled his aching mind away from the robot, and hugged himself, kneading his stiff shoulders.

“Alex, what did you do?” Harry repeated sadly.

Alex stood panting. Thinking about what he had done unsettled him. Yet using the flier had been easy. And it had got him what they needed. After a moment more of indecision, he walked over and picked it up, tucking it away in his coat.

“C’mon Harry. It’s this way.”

The boy and the dead man set off across the fields.

XXII.

REUNION

They marched through the morning rain. Alex cast nervous looks behind and equally nervous looks at his companion. Harry seemed lost in trying to piece memories together.

“S’funny,” he said. “Like, I remember clear as a bell what I ’ad for dinner last Tuesday: pie ’n’ mash night. But the past few days, it’s all muddled, bits missing. Still, I’m sure your grandad’ll fill in the blanks.”

“Uh, yeah.” Alex nodded. The ache had faded from his head and limbs, but he remained shaken. As his mind cleared, he tried replaying what Zia had said, about his grandfather and secrets. Bet ol’ Grandad never told . . . Daddy died, hmm? She was trying to mess with him. He resolved to ignore it and concentrate on getting to his grandfather. At least it was a problem he could understand.

Eventually, he saw horses ahead in the field they were walking through. The big animals came wandering softly over. One nodded to them as they passed. Alex began to feel a faint prickling running through him.

“’Orse goes into a bar,” Harry said. “Barman says, ‘Why the long face?’ One of me favorites, that. That and the one about the ’ippopotomus.”

Not far beyond sat the battered Citroën, ripped roof hanging out like a ragged black sail. The tingling in Alex’s blood tightened.

“Blimey.” Harry gave a low whistle. “What a mess. Wait.” He squinted at the wreck. “I’m remembering bits. Yeah. I crashed, like you said. Life-sizer in the road. Then I ran. Into the trees. Then . . .” He grimaced. “Nah. Nothin’.”

Alex only half listened. The feeling singing through him sharpened again as he hurried toward the car. He leaned in, searching the footwell. His hand found the old toy robot, stuck beneath the seat. Relief flooded him, along with something else: a sense like being whole again. Now all he needed to do was find his grandfather.