Giving up for the moment, the Curtiss turned from the gantries and set course inland for Titusville. As it clattered over the hotel Mallory recognised the familiar hard brow behind the pilot’s goggles. Each morning the same pilot appeared, flying a succession of antique craft — relics, Mallory assumed, from some forgotten museum at a private airfield near by. There were a Spad and a Sopwith Camel, a replica of the Wright Flyer, and a Fokker triplane that had buzzed the NASA causeway the previous day, driving inland thousands of frantic gulls and swallows, denying them any share of the sky.
Standing naked on the balcony, Mallory let the amber air warm his skin. He counted the ribs below his shoulder blades, aware that for the first time he could feel his kidneys. Despite the hours spent foraging each day, and the canned food looted from the abandoned supermarkets, it was difficult to keep up his body weight. In the two months since they set out from Vancouver on the slow, nervous drive back to Florida, he and Anne had each lost more than thirty pounds, as if their bodies were carrying out a re-inventory of themselves for the coming world without time. But the bones endured. His skeleton seemed to grow stronger and heavier, preparing itself for the unnourished sleep of the grave.
Already sweating in the humid air, Mallory returned to the bedroom. Anne had woken, but lay motionless in the centre of the bed, strands of blonde hair caught like a child’s in her mouth. With its fixed and empty expression, her face resembled a clock that had just stopped. Mallory sat down and placed his hands on her diaphragm, gently respiring her. Every morning he feared that time would run out for Anne while she slept, leaving her forever in the middle of a last uneasy dream.
She stared at Mallory, as if surprised to wake in this shabby resort hotel with a man she had possibly known for years but for some reason failed to recognise.
‘Hinton?’
‘Not yet.’ Mallory steered the hair from her mouth. ‘Do I look like him now?’
‘God, I’m going blind.’ Anne wiped her nose on the pillow. She raised her wrists, and stared at the two watches that formed a pair of time-cuffs. The stores in Florida were filled with abandoned clocks and watches, and each day Anne selected a new set of timepieces. She touched Mallory reassuringly. ‘All men look the same, Edward. That’s streetwalker’s wisdom for you. I meant the plane.’
‘I’m not sure. It wasn’t a spotter aircraft. Clearly the police don’t bother to come to Cape Kennedy any more.’
‘I don’t blame them. It’s an evil place. Edward, we ought to leave, let’s get out this morning.’
Mallory held her shoulders, trying to calm this frayed but still handsome woman. He needed her to look her best for Hinton. ‘Anne, we’ve only been here a week — let’s give it a little more time.’
‘Time? Edward…’ She took Mallory’s hands in a sudden show of affection. ‘Dear, that’s one thing we’ve run out of. I’m getting those headaches again, just like the ones I had fifteen years ago. It’s uncanny, I can feel the same nerves..
‘I’ll give you something, you can sleep this afternoon.’
‘No… They’re a warning. I want to feel every twinge.’ She pressed the wristwatches to her temples, as if trying to tune her brain to their signal. ‘We were mad to come here, and even more mad to stay.’
‘I know. It’s a long shot but worth a try. I’ve learned one thing in all these years — if there’s a way out, we’ll find it at Cape Kennedy.’
‘We won’t! Everything’s poisoned here. We should go to Australia, like all the other NASA people.’ Anne rooted in her handbag on the floor, heaving aside an illustrated encyclopaedia of birds she had found in a Titusyifle bookstore. ‘I looked it up — western Australia is as far from Florida as you can go. It’s almost the exact antipodes. Edward, my sister lives in Perth. I knew there was a reason why she invited us there.’
Mallory stared at the distant gantries of Cape Kennedy. It was difficult to believe that he had once worked there. ‘I don’t think even Perth, Australia, is far enough. We need to set out into space again..
Anne shuddered. ‘Edward, don’t say that — a crime was committed here, everyone knows that’s how it all began.’ As they listened to the distant drone of the aircraft she gazed at her broad hips and soft thighs. Equal to the challenge, her chin lifted. ‘Do you think Hinton is here? He may not remember me.’
‘He’ll remember you. You were the only one who liked him.’
‘Well, in a sort of way. How long was he in prison before he escaped? Twenty years?’
‘A long time. Perhaps he’ll take you flying again. You enjoyed that.’
‘Yes… He was strange. But even if he is here, can he help? He was the one who started it all.’
‘No, not Hinton.’ Mallory listened to his voice in the empty hotel. It seemed deeper and more resonant, as the slowing time stretched out the frequencies. ‘In point of fact, I started it all.’
