The guard didn’t respond.
“I assume from your uniform that you’re one of the nonmilitary personnel assigned to base security. As Xandy would say, you’re a Cammo Dude. So why do you do it? Are you in it for the money?” Emerson asked.
No response.
“You’re killing four innocent people for the money? That’s interesting. It must be a lot of money. How much?”
No response.
“Do you get health benefits too? Retirement? Dental?”
“Enough talking,” the guard said.
“What’s your name?” Emerson asked him.
“I told you to shut up.” The guard turned to Riley. “Tell him to shut up or I’ll shoot him.”
“He doesn’t listen to me,” Riley said. “I’m just his amanuensis.”
“You’re his what?”
“Amanuensis.”
“My sister had that when she w
as pregnant,” the guard said. “They wanted to see if the baby had anything wrong with it.”
“That’s different,” Riley said. “That’s amniocentesis.”
—
They went south on Interstate 15, past Vegas and into the desert. The driver turned right onto a little two-lane blacktop road that led off into the back of beyond. After a couple miles they pulled over and parked at an abandoned service station.
“Is this it?” Xandy asked. “Is this where they’re going to kill us? It’s because we know about the aliens, isn’t it? At least we’re not going to get probed.”
Riley looked over at Emerson, and Emerson shrugged.
“Why are we parked here?” Riley asked Rollo.
“We’re waiting,” Rollo said.
There was the sound of a car approaching from the rear. The guard driving the white van acknowledged the car with a wave of his hand. He put the van into gear and pulled back onto the road. They followed the winding road toward the base of a mountain. The van stopped, and Rollo got out and opened a small gate. He returned to the van, and the van lurched forward and bumped over a rough dirt trail that zigzagged uphill.
“This is Mount Potosi, isn’t it?” Emerson asked.
“Very good,” Rollo said.
“Carole Lombard’s plane crashed right about here,” Emerson said. “I always liked Carole Lombard.” He turned to Riley. “She was a movie star in the thirties. Did you ever see My Man Godfrey? Nothing Sacred? Twentieth Century?”
“I’ve never seen Twentieth Century,” Riley said.
“I’ll set up a screening,” Emerson said. “Are you free next Wednesday?”
“I’ll have to check my schedule,” Riley said.
“You see,” Emerson said, “I do like some popular culture.”
“Just pre–World War II popular culture?” Riley asked him.