"What happened here?" the captain of the guards demanded.
Before Remo could respond, one of the inmates called out, "MeGurk jumped Popcorn. Bit his tongue off, just like he did last year. Only Popcorn had a weapon. He paid McGurk back."
"Yeah, that right," another voice added.
"McGurk picked the wrong fish this time. Serve the cocksucker right." This from the black con who had attacked McGurk with the deadly sock.
There were no dissenting accounts of the incident and the guards quickly began herding the inmates back toward the compound. The inmates hesitated. More than a few wanted to know how Popcorn was. No one asked after McGurk.
The guards on the tower catwalks fired shots into the air to get them moving, immediately training their weapons into the crowd once they had the yard's attention.
Hastily the inmates formed three lines and filed into the main building. A voice behind Remo whispered in his ear, "You done us all a good turn, taking on McGurk. And we appreciate it."
When his cell door clanged shut on Remo, he felt emptier than at any time since he'd found himself in Florida State Prison.
The prison remained under lockdown into lights-out. Supper was not served, and Remo wondered if Popcorn had finally cheated the chair.
He hoped for Popcorn's sake it was true.
Chapter 9
In his dreams, Remo was a free man. Except for the old Oriental.
He was scaling a sheer wall. The old Oriental looked down from the thirtieth floor of the building to the twenty-eighth floor, where Remo clung to the tinted glass facade like a human spider.
"You must move faster," the old Oriental squeaked. "I am twice your age and you lag like an old woman on a hot day." His face was a map of wrinkles, like papier-mache drying in the sun. His eyes were as clear as agates, and as hard. They looked at Remo with contempt.
"I'm climbing as fast as I can," Remo returned. The sharpness of the old Oriental's gaze hurt him in an indefinable way.
The old Oriental's mouth thinned disapprovingly over the strands of straggly beard that fluttered from his chin.
"That is your mistake," he snapped. "I am not teaching you to climb this edifice, but to use its inner strength to lift you to your goal. Arms that climb, tire. Buildings do not tire. Therefore you will use the building's strength, not your own."
Remo wanted to say that was bullshit, but he had already gotten this far by following instructions. His feet were splayed outward on the quarter-inch molding around the big sandwich-glass window. His palms pressed the glass, fingers flat, not clutching, but allowing the surface tension of his skin against the smooth glass to hold him in place. He felt like a bug.
And above him the old Oriental resumed his ascent like a monkey in a jet-black silk robe. Even the bottoms of his sandals were black as old tires.
Remo raised his hands over his head. He took hold of the molding above the window with bone-hard fingertips. He pulled downward. And like a gargantuan window shade, the facade seemed to drop under him. Except that the building stayed on its foundation. It was Remo who went up, as effortlessly as if climbing a helpful glass ladder.
Floor by floor, he followed the old Oriental until they were together on the rooftop. The old Oriental led him to a trapdoor and they slipped down into a dim hallway.
"Do as I do," the old Oriental whispered.
Remo followed him as soundlessly as a drifting wind. The old Oriental moved toward a black metal door in which a red pinpoint light glowed where the keyhole should have been.
"If we break it, it'll trigger an alarm," Remo warned.
"Then I will not break it," the old Oriental said. "Observe, now."
The old man placed his fingertips over the red pinpoint and drummed them silently until the light turned green. He pushed the door open casually and Remo followed him, a wondering expression on his face.
"How'd you do that? It's supposed to be impossible without a magnetic passcard."
"It is electrical," the old man said.
"Yeah?"
"So. I am electrical too. But my electricity is stronger. "
"That doesn't make any sense," Remo told the old Oriental as they moved down the corridor, two shadows in a deeper blackness. Then: "When are you going to teach me to do that?"
"When I sense your natural energies are equal to the task."
"What's that in real time?"
"Never. "
And Remo felt stung to his core.
They turned a corner and almost walked into a brown-uniformed security guard who stood before an unmarked door with an assault rifle raised protectively before him.
Remo hung back. Seeing the old Oriental continue his floating stride unchecked, he followed after him. The guard was looking right at them, evidently not registering their presence.
Then the guard looked away, and the old man froze. Remo froze too. And when the guard's gaze stared in their direction once more, he moved on, crossing the hallway with Remo close behind him, like his shadow.
Safely in another hallway, Remo wanted to know how it had been done.
"A man, when he looks directly at something, will perceive only something out of the ordinary," he was told. "You and I were part of the movement of air through this dark place, and therefore part of the vibration. But the corners of the eye will register any movement. That is why we stopped when we did."
They came to another pinpoint red light.
"Let me try this one, Remo offered. He placed his fingertips against the plate and started tapping in a dissynchronous rhythm.
The light remained red.
Impatiently the old Oriental stepped in and tapped the plate once. The light turned green.
"Was that you or me?" Remo asked as they closed the door behind them.
"It is all in the nails," the old Oriental said, shaking his wide sleeves free of his thin wrists. His nails were like pale blades. "Come, we are almost to our objective."
They entered a room filled with a low-level humming. As Remo's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw the jerky movement of computer tape reels behind plastic panels. An air conditioner expelled chilled chemically tainted air.
"Which one do you think is our friend?' Remo breathed.
"It does not matter. We will destroy them all." Suddenly a pair of panels glowed in dull green light. They looked like flat blank eyes.