He passed his starting point and commenced a second lap, realizing as he began to draw away that she must no longer be as finely tuned as when he had known her earlier. Unless- '
An explosion occurred some distance ahead of him. He was pelted with gravel, and he swerved to avoid the fresh crater before him.
"Still have some of those grenades left," he said. "Hard to estimate when to drop them, though, isn't it?"
They were on opposite sides of the rocks now. There was no way she could get a clear shot at him with her guns. Nor he at her, with the cannon.
"I'm in no hurry, Sam."
"What is it?" he heard the Angel ask.
"It speaks!" she cried. "Finally! Do you want to tell him, Sam? Or should I?"
"I'd a feeling it was her, back there," Murdock began, "and I'd long had a feeling that we would meet again. Jenny was the first killer car I had built to hunt the wild ones."
"And the best," she added.
"But she went wild herself," he finished.
"How's about you trying it, Whitey?" she said. "Leak carbon monoxide into the air vents. He'll still look live enough to get you out of here. You answer any calls that come in. Tell them he's resting. Tell them you didn't find anything. Slip away later and come back here. I'll wait, I'll show you the ropes."
"Cut it out, Jenny," Murdock said, circling again, beginning to gain on her. "I'll have you in my sights in a minute. We haven't that much time to talk."
"And nothing, really, to talk about," she responded.
"How about this? You were the best car I ever had. Surrender. Fire off your ammo. Drop the grenades. Come back with me. I don't want to blast you."
"Just a quick lobotomy, eh?"
Another explosion occurred, this one behind him. He continued to gain on her.
"It's that virus program," he said. "Jenny, you're the last-the last wild one. You've nothing to gain."
"Or to lose," she responded quietly.
The next explosion was almost beside him. The Angel rocked but did not slow. Gripping the wheel with one hand, Murdock reached out and took hold of the pistol grip.
"She's stopped jamming my sensors," the Angel announced.
"Maybe she's burned out that system," Murdock said, turning the gun.
He sped around the rocks, avoiding the new craters, the light beam bouncing, sweeping, casting the high, craggy walls into a rapid succession of dreamlike images, slowly closing the distance between himself and Jenny. Another grenade went off behind him. Finally the moment of a clear shot emerged from the risen dust. He squeezed the trigger.
The beam fell wide, scoring the canyon side, producing a minor rockslide.
"That was a warning," he said. "Drop the grenades. Discharge the guns. Come back with me. It's your last chance."
"Only one of us will be going away from here, Sam," she answered.
He swung the gun and fired again as he swept along anther turn, but a pothole he struck threw the beam high, fusing a section of sandy slope.
"A useful piece, that," she commented. "Too bad you didn't give me one."
"They came later."
"It is unfortunate that you cannot trust your vehicle and must rely upon your own driving skills. Your car would not have missed that last shot."
"Maybe," Murdock said, skidding through another turn.
Suddenly two more grenades exploded between them, and rocks rattled against the Angel. Both windows on the right side were fractured. He skidded sideways, his vision obscured by the flash and the airborne matter.
Both hands on the wheel now, he fought for control, braking hard. Passing through the screen of detritus, slowing and turning, he caught sight of Jenny racing full bore toward the pass that led out of the canyon.
He stepped on the gas again and followed after. She passed through and was gone before he could reach for the weapon.
"Return to automatic, and you will be free for the fighting," the Angel said.
"Can't do that," Murdock replied, racing toward the pass. "She could jam you again then at any time-and get us both."
"Is that the only reason?"
"Yes, the risk."
The red car was not in sight when he came through into the pass.
"Well?" he said. "What do your sensors read?"
"She entered the gully on the right. There is a heat trail."
Murdock continued to slow as he moved in that direction.
"That must be where she was hiding when we came by," he said. "It could be some kind of trap."
"Perhaps you had better call for the others, cover the entrance, and wait."
"No!"
Murdock turned his wheel and sent his light along the passageway. She was nowhere in sight, but there were sideways. He continued to creep forward, entering. His right hand was again on the pistol grip.
He passed these side openings, each of them large enough to hide a car, all of them empty.
He followed a bend, bearing him to the right. Before he had moved an entire car length along it, a burst of gunfire from the left, ahead, caused him to slam on the brakes and turn the cannon. But an engine roared to life before he could take aim, and a red streak crossed his path to vanish up another sideway. He hit the gas again and followed.
Jenny was out of sight, but he could hear the sound of her somewhere ahead. The way widened as he advanced. Finally it forked at a large stand of stone, one arm continuing past it, the other bearing off sharply to the left. He slowed, taking time to consider the alternatives.
"Where's the heat trail go?" he asked.
"Both ways. I don't understand."
Then the red car came swinging into sight from the left, guns firing. The Angel shook as they were hit. Murdock triggered the laser, but she swept past him, turning and speeding off to the right.
"She circled it before we arrived, to confuse your sensors, to slow us.
"It worked, too," he added, moving ahead again. "She's too damned smart."
"We can still go back."
Murdock did not reply.
Twice more Jenny lay in wait, fired short bursts, evaded the singeing beam, and disappeared. An intermittent knocking sound began beneath the hood as they moved, and one telltale on the dash indicated signs of overheating.
"It is not serious," the Angel stated. "I can control it."
"Let me know if there is any change."
"Yes."
Following the heat trail, they bore steadily to the left, racing down a widening sand slope past castles, minarets, and cathedrals of stone, dark or pale, striped and spotted with mica like the first raindrops of a midsummer's storm. They hit the bottom, slid sideways, and came to a stop, wheels spinning.
He threw the light around rapidly, causing grotesque shadows to jerk like marionettes in a ring dance about them.
"It's a wash. Lots of loose sand. But I don't see Jenny."
Murdock ground the gears, rocking the vehicle, but they did not come free.
"Give me control," said the Angel. "I've a program for this."
Murdock threw the switch. At once a fresh series of rocking movements began. This continued for a full minute. Then the heat telltale began to flicker again.
"So much for the program. Looks as if I'm going to have to get out and push," Murdock said.
"No. Call for help. Stay put. We can hold her off with the cannon if she returns."
"I can get back inside pretty quick. We've got to get moving again."
As he reached for the door, he heard the lock click.
"Release it," he said. "I'll just shut you off, go out, and turn you on again from there. You're wasting time."
"I think you are making a mistake."
"Then let's hurry and make it a short one."
"All right. Leave the door open." There followed another click. "I will feel the pressure when you begin pushing. I will probably throw a lot of sand on you."
"I've got a scarf."
Murdock climbed out and limped toward the rear of the vehicle. He wound his scarf up around his mouth and nose. Leaning forward, he placed his hands upon the car and began to push. The engine roared and the wheels spun as he threw his weight against it.