“Afternoon, Rufus. I’ve got the car parked around the corner. What would you say to a bit of beer at the old Blind Moon?”
Thomas smiled, erasing some of the weary lines around his eyes. “By God, that’s the best idea I’ve heard since the last time we went there. And I’ll pay; Gladhand gave me a lot of money this morning.”
“I won’t argue, then.”
The streets were crowded, and it was at least half an hour before they arrived at the Blind Moon. To Thomas’ relief, Jeff didn’t try to talk him out of leaving the city. Instead, they discussed the relative merits of domestic and imported wines, the dangers inherent in the use of chain-shot, and the rain of frogs whose dried, raisin-like corpses could still be seen strewn like bizarre seeds in the empty lots and back alleys of the city.
They emptied their eighth pitcher of beer and called for a ninth. As a waitress passed through the fast-dimming room lighting the candles, Thomas noticed the ghosts at the other tables. There was Spencer, his red hair hanging down over his eyes, laughing as he told some long, involved joke. Negri sat nearby, pretending not to listen, or at least not to be amused. Gardener Jenkins nodded politely to Thomas as he poured bourbon into his beer glass, and Ben Corwin, standing outside on the pavement, pressed his nose against one of the windowpanes, wondering who’d stand an old man to a drink.
“Let’s … drink to these ghosts, Jeff,” Thomas said, swaying in his chair as he waved his beer glass at them.
“Right,” agreed Jeff, topping off both glasses. “Here’s to you ghosts!” he said.
“Save us a chair and a glass,” Thomas added, and then the two young men drained their glasses in one long, slow draft.
Thomas left Los Angeles early the next morning, by the Harbor Freeway gate. His horse was energetic in the morning chill, and he let it gallop. Thomas wore new boots and a good leather jacket, and a sword on one side of his belt balanced the .45 automatic on the other.
His left hand he kept in his jacket pocket for convenience.
The freeway was uncrowded at this hour—there were only a few milk wagons and private carts for him to pass—and he was slowed only occasionally when he’d have to wait in line to cross one of the narrow bridges that spanned washed-out gaps in the old highroad. By ten o’clock he’d reached the intersection of the 91 Freeway, and here he reined in his horse and paused.
The travelers that passed him may have been puzzled to see the grim-faced young man sitting his horse so motionless by the side of the road; but there couldn’t have been many, for after a few minutes he gave a nearly mirthless laugh and, wheeling his horse, galloped away east on the 91 Freeway, away from the sea, toward Needles.
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Also by Tim Powers
Last Call Series
Last Call
Expiration Date
Earthquake Weather
Other Novels
Epitaph In Rust
The Skies Discrowned
The Drawing of the Dark
The Anubis Gates
Dinner At Deviant’s Palace
On Stranger Tides
*
The Stress of Her Regard*
Declare*
Three Days to Never*
Collections
Strange Itineraries
* not available as SF Gateway eBooks
Dedication
To my parents, Noel and Dick Powers
Tim Powers (1952 – )
Tim Powers was born in Buffalo, New York, and educated at California State University, gaining a degree in English. It was at University that he met K.W. Jeter and James Blaylock, who became friends and occasional collaborators, and the three of them are regarded as the founding fathers of the steampunk literary movement. He was also a friend of noted SF writer Philip K. Dick. Tim Powers is the author of many highly regarded novels and among his many honours are two Philip K. Dick Awards (for the Anubis Gates and Dinner at Deviant’s Palace) and two World Fantasy Awards (for Last Call and Declare). The fourth Pirates of the Caribbean film is based on his 1988 novel On Stranger Tides. Tim Powers lives in California with his wife Serena.
Copyright
A Gollancz eBook
Copyright © Tim Powers 1976
All rights reserved.
The right of Tim Powers to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This eBook first published in Great Britain in 2011 by Gollancz
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martin’s Lane
London, WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 0 575 11775 4
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
www.orionbooks.co.uk
Tim Powers, An Epitaph in Rust
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