She nodded and went back inside without another word. The men sat down, flanking the open door of the privy with its new bolt-lock. Tian tried to roll a smoke. The first one fell apart in his shaking fingers and he had to try again. “I’m not good at this sort of thing,” he said, and Eddie understood he wasn’t talking about the fine art of cigarette-making.

“It’s all right.”

Tian peered at him hopefully. “Do ya say so?”

“I do, so let it be so.”

Promptly at six o’clock ( The bastard’s probably got a clock set right down to millionths of a second inside him,Eddie thought), Andy came around the rectory-house, his shadow trailing out long and spidery on the grass in front of him. He saw them. His blue eyes flashed. He raised a hand in greeting. The setting sun reflected off his arm, making it look as though it had been dipped in blood. Eddie raised his own hand in return and stood up, smiling. He wondered if all the thinking-machines that still worked in this rundown world had turned against their masters, and if so, why.

“Just be cool and let me do the talking,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yes, all right.”

“Eddie!” Andy cried. “Tian Jaffords! How good to see you both! And weapons to use against the Wolves! My! Where are they?”

“Stacked in the shithouse,” Eddie said. “We can get a wagon down here once they’re out, but they’re heavy…and there isn’t much room to move around in there…”

He stood aside. Andy came on. His eyes were flashing, but not in laughter now. They were so brilliant Eddie had to squint—it was like looking at flashbulbs.

“I’m sure I can get them out,” Andy said. “How good it is to help! How often I’ve regretted how little my programming allows me to…”

He was standing in the privy door now, bent slightly at the thighs to get his metallic barrel of a head below the level of the jamb. Eddie drew Roland’s gun. As always, the sandalwood grip felt smooth and eager against his palm.

“Cry your pardon, Eddie of New York, but I see no guns.”

“No,” Eddie agreed. “Me either. Actually all I see is a fucking traitor who teaches songs to the kids and then sends them to be—”

Andy turned with terrible liquid speed. To Eddie’s ears the hum of the servos in his neck seemed very loud. They were standing less than three feet apart, point-blank range. “May it do ya fine, you stainless-steel bastard,” Eddie said, and fired twice. The reports were deafening in the evening stillness. Andy’s eyes exploded and went dark. Tian cried out.