could see no danger of being identified by William McKendrick. But it was plain, in Mack’s face and in his tone, that that was not the reassurance he sought. Horn told him what he needed to hear. “No. By the time he gets in here, he’ll just want to finish the job as quickly as he can and get out again. He won’t even ask himself why William’s still in bed.”
The tall man nodded, relieved. He said in a low voice, “I’d kill him myself before I’d let that happen. Before I’d leave him to be nursed in a geriatric ward.”
Horn believed him. He cleared his throat, changed the subject. “So if we can’t move William downstairs, how are we going to do this?”
“I’ll stay here. We won’t make any noise, will we, Billy? You watch the monitors in the hall.”
“I don’t know how to operate the security system.”
“Beth does.”
Horn had no wish to spend the last few hours of his life with someone who despised him. “Or Beth could sit with William.”
“She can’t lift him on her own. I can. Except…” McKendrick looked at the bedside table, indicated a plastic device with an incongruous clown’s face. “There’s the baby monitor. We can keep the speaker with us. Then if she needs a hand, she can let me know.” His voice adopted the bright, cheery tone appropriate for addressing invalids. “That all right, Billy? If Beth comes and sits with you for a while?” There was no measurable alteration in the white-faced basilisk stare. “Good. Fine.”
McKendrick headed back downstairs, Horn in his wake. All he could see of McKendrick was his back disappearing round the central column of the spiral stairway. It encouraged a kind of intimacy. He murmured, “I’m sorry about your brother.”
A shade unexpectedly, McKendrick stopped, pivoted on one heel, and looked back and upward, his gray eyes searching. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry for all of this.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“No, I don’t think it is. But you wouldn’t be in danger if you hadn’t stopped to help me.”
McKendrick thought for a moment. “I knew what I was doing. That there could be consequences. I never thought there could be consequences for Beth, but that isn’t your fault either.”
Horn sucked in a deep breath. “I meant what I said. If you think it’ll do any good—if you think it might do some good—I’ll go out and meet him. Let what happens happen.”
McKendrick was still regarding him with that pale, penetrating stare. He nodded. “I appreciate that. But I meant what I said too. I don’t want that to be how this ends. I suppose, I don’t want to die a coward.”
“Most people get as far as thinking I don’t want to die and stop there.”
McKendrick grinned. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I was a soldier when I was your age, and staying alive was high on my list of priorities too. Your perspective changes slightly as you get older. You accept that, like it or not, you’re not going to be here forever, and all you can try to do is leave the place tidy and face whatever comes next with courage and optimism.”
“You think something comes next?”
“How’s your physics?” Horn looked at him like a joiner. “One of the cornerstones is the idea that mass and energy are different facets of the same thing, and you can alter it but you can’t destroy it or make any more and the component parts are pretty much eternal. I imagine the component parts of me will be altered a fair bit by death, but the atoms at least will go on. It’s a kind of afterlife. And maybe the atoms will remember.” It was hard to tell from his expression if he was joking again.
Either way, it all sounded rather implausible to Horn. But then, as a way of holding things together, he thought you couldn’t beat a dovetail. Even if he’d heard of it, the strong nuclear force would have left him unimpressed.
“And then,” added McKendrick, “I’m not ready to buy what you’re selling. You think we’re all going to die. I think there’s a lot of ways this could end. I spent a lot of money on the security here. If one man, however expert and determined, can breach it in a few hours, I’m going to have serious words with the company that installed it.”
“Good luck with that,” muttered Horn to McKendrick’s descending back.
They’d reached the front hall. Beth had overheard the tail end of their conversation. “The