Read Janus for Free Online Page B

worked on the form. He was finishing when she finally turned from the keyboard and faced him.
    “Let’s have a look,” she said, and ran her gaze over the page. “Ah, that’s close enough. If there’s anything wrong, they can always go and ask you, can’t they? Okay, here’s what we’ve got for you. In their wisdom, they’ve decided that the biggest priority is to get the dam finished for the celebrations. So any cases with doubtful qualifications—that’s you—are assigned to construction work. Ever remember driving a truck? They tell me it’s not hard to learn. Just shifting gravel from one point to another, nothing too complicated. Here’s a map. Here’s who you report to. Hmm, starting tomorrow. Not much time to find your way around, but I suppose we can’t all have cozy desk jobs. That okay? Any problems, drop in and see us again. The hours are on the board in the entrance.”
    She was back at the keyboard before Grebbel reached the door.

    So he had travelled from one universe to another to learn to be a truck driver.
    Grebbel’s hands had clenched into fists, so hard they hurt; with an effort he made them open.
    He found it took an hour to walk round the perimeter of the settlement. Hours, they’d said, were unchanged at least.
    A pair of winged creatures was moving in slow circles over the lights on the landing field. Suddenly their wings furled and they plummeted towards the dark woods beyond the perimeter. He imagined the scream as their talons struck flesh.
    Waiting to catch sight of them again, he considered what he knew about his existence.
    One. He
was
. Whatever he doubted, some fundamental core of him had existed continuously from birth until now, bridging universes.
    Two. That hidden self might know more than he knew. It might be circling in some vaulted space, awaiting the moment to plunge and strike. Why else did he find himself in the grip of sudden angers and pains he could not explain?
    Three. His hands . . .
    His hands that clenched into knots of pain, and hurled rocks, and bore scars . . .
    The thought slipped away before he could complete it. He shook his head, then flexed his shoulders and headed on to the cafeteria.
    In the lineup, he heard talk about a leaflet that had been passed around recently. He tried to get details, but none of the people he asked knew or were willing to say much more. One of them, a grizzled man in the silver astronaut costume, with his legs encased in a black composite exoskeleton, shook his head at Grebbel. “New here, aren’t you? Safer if you get the official line on things here, before you go making guesses. Open council meeting at seven—why don’t you drop in and see what you think of the ones who run this place before you get fed too many rumours?”
    Grebbel ate quickly, still preoccupied, and then walked out onto the main street. A painted wooden sign lit from below identified it as Unter Den Linden. It was surfaced with asphalt, presumably for the trucks, although at the moment only pedestrians were using it. Along the edge of the road, mercury lights on wooden posts lit piles of grimy snow. He went past a general store and a barter shop specialising in homemade ceramic and wooden craftware. The lights ended and the street curved around a wide pond in which the reflected moons rippled. He leaned on the fence, watching as wisps of vapour curled above the surface, and below the moons, carp idled among dark weed.
    He followed a group of people towards what must be the Council Hall.
    A group of children ran out from between two buildings ahead of him. They passed Grebbel, shouting and chasing each other along the rim of the pond. They were all behind him when the shouts suddenly changed and there was a heavy splash. He started to turn, but the woman ahead of him had stopped and swung round so sharply he almost walked into her. Her face, for an instant, was so stricken that he stared at her.
    “All right?”
    She was looking past him. “Yes, I