‘Yes.’
Thompson laughed. ‘Nobody gets answers these days.’
Janie said quietly, ‘This way, Hip.’
Hip turned towards her. He distinctly felt a crawling tension behind him, in the air, close to his flesh. He wondered if the Gorgon’s head had affected men that way, even the ones who did not look at her.
He followed her down to a niche in the house wall, the one which was not curved glass. In it was a crib the size of a bathtub.
He had not known that Baby was so fat. ‘Go ahead,’ said Janie. The cylinder bobbed once for each of her syllables.
‘Yes, go ahead.’ Thompson’s voice was so close behind him that he started. He had not heard the man following him at all and he felt boyish and foolish. He swallowed and said to Janie, ‘What do I do?’
‘Just think your question. He’ll probably catch it. Far as I know he receives everybody.’
Hip leaned over the crib. Eyes gleaming dully like the uppers of dusty black shoes caught and held him. He thought, Once this Gestalt had another head. It can get other telekines, teleports. Baby: Can you be replaced?
‘He says yes,’ said Janie. ‘That nasty little telepath with the corncob—remember?’