Demon Deathchase by Hideyuki Kikuchi Page A

for an
     instant. Then, even though the moon remained unchanged, the heart of the cloud mass
     seemed to begin to glow ever so faintly. In the space of a breath, a figure shaped
     like a man started wriggling there, and, with a second breath, it became a clear picture.
     Someone was riding a horse down a pitch-black road.
    Based on his past memory of D, Borgoff was using the silver platter and moon as projectors
     to make the present D appear in the cloud mass.
    The receding figure that seemed to be looking down on them from the distant heavens
     was a remarkable likeness of D as he raced down the road a few score miles ahead.
    —
    II
    —
    They’d run full tilt for a good two hours after leaving D in their dust, and, when
     Mayerling saw that the road continued on in a straight line for the next dozen or
     so miles, he left the coachman’s perch of the racing carriage and skillfully slipped
     inside.
    When he’d closed the door, not a hint of sound from the outside world intruded into
     the carriage. The girl sat there in a leather-bound chair like a night-blossoming
     moonbeam flower.
    Carpet spread across the floor, and an exceedingly fine silk padding covered the walls
     and ceiling. In days of old, bottles of the best and rarest potables had sat on the
     collapsible golden table that seemed to grow from the wall, and this dozen miles of
     starlit road had run to great masquerades by the Nobility. However, the carpet was
     now somewhat dingy, there were tears in the silk, and there wasn’t a single silver
     glass on the table. Even the table drooped for lack of a screw.
    This model of carriage was said to be the last equipped with magnetic stabilizing
     circuits, which would hold the passengers safely in position even if the vehicle were
     to flip over.
    Mayerling’s right hand moved, and the interior was filled with light. “Why don’t you
     turn on the lights?” he asked. “By rights this dilapidated old buggy should have been
     scrapped long ago, but that much at least is still operational.”
    Encouraged by a smile that bared teeth of limitless white, the girl showed Mayerling
     a smile in return. Yet her smile was thin, like a mirage.
    He tried to recall the last time he’d seen this girl’s brightly smiling face, but
     had little luck. Perhaps he’d only dreamt it, and was dreaming this as well.
    “I don’t mind,” she replied. “If you live in the darkness, then I want to, too.”
    “I’m sure the sunlight suits you wonderfully. Though I have yet to see you in it,”
     he added, heading over to the chair across from her to sit down.
    “Do you think we’ll make it all the way?” the girl asked hesitantly.
    “You think we won’t?”
    “No.” The girl shook her head. It was the first vehement action he’d seen from her
     since he’d taken her out of the village. “I’ll be fine anywhere. So long as I’m with
     you, I could make my home in a cave in the craggy mountains or in some subterranean
     world where I’d never see the light of day again.”
    “No matter where we might be, the Hunters would come,” he said, allowing resignation
     to drift into his jewel-like beauty. “Your fellow humans won’t be happy until they’ve
     destroyed everything. You’re nothing like them, of course.”
    She said nothing.
    “There’s nowhere on earth we can relax now. A long trip out into the depths of space
     . . . ” He caught himself. “Perhaps it has become too much for you?”
    “No.”
    “It’s all right. Perhaps you weren’t cut out for this from the very beginning. A graceful
     hothouse flower can’t endure the ravages of the wild. You were kind enough to indulge
     my willfulness. We shall take a different course if you so desire.”
    The girl’s white hand pressed down on his pale hand, and her slender face shook gently
     from left to right. “I want to try and see if we make it. To go to the stars.”
    Oh, who could have known the journey these two had undertaken was not a