Species Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Come on, let’s go.” The boy nodded and folded the excess wrapper over the bitten end of the Butterfinger bar, then followed his mother to the cash register. Sil got another peculiar look from him, then the boy’s mother kissed the top of his head as he turned his attention to the man at the checkout counter. Still puzzling over the affectionate ritual, Sil watched with rapt attention as the clerk tapped several keys on the register and a man in front of the woman and boy gave him three folded pieces of paper and some small pieces of round metal. After the clerk handed him a scrap of white paper, the guy left with a plastic bag filled with items—a bag of potato chips, a magazine, a few travel toiletries. Then it was the woman’s turn and Sil frowned, trying to watch the boy watch her at the same time as she tried to understand the procedure the woman was following. Rather than the green paper, she offered the clerk a small, colorful plastic card; the cashier accepted it, ran it through a small machine, punched more keys on the cash register, then handed it back—along with the bagged purchases. Whatever had transpired, it had given the boy the right to begin eating his candy bar again, and the Butterfinger was already half-gone before he and his mother stepped out of the snack shop.
    “You going to buy those?”
    Sil gasped at the sound of the clerk’s voice. She was standing right in front of him; without realizing it, she had drifted toward the checkout counter, her contemplation making her unwittingly follow the small line of customers. Buy them? It wasn’t difficult to figure out that this was a trading situation—if you wanted something in the store, you gave something in return. The problem was, Sil still didn’t grasp exactly what. Green paper, or plastic cards, yes—but where and how could she get those things?
    The clerk started to say something else, then turned his head toward the entrance to the snack shop as a group of teenagers came in. Except for being loud, the four older boys seemed too close in age to most of her former lab technicians for Sil to pay them any mind, but the clerk’s attention sharpened visibly. While he was looking elsewhere Sil saw her chance; she dropped the packets of beef jerky and cookies on the counter and ran out, her fleet-footed dodge around the older boys making them whoop in admiration and cheer her on.

    S he found the boy and his mother again, this time standing with a trio of suitcases out on the train platform. Far enough away not to be noticed, she watched as the woman and her son each lifted a suitcase and a porter picked up the third to help them board a train. This train was different from the rust-stained boxcar that had sheltered Sil last night; each car was sleek and silver and had plenty of windows, and under all of them the word AMTRAK was painted in sprawling red-and-blue letters.
    After the woman and boy disappeared into the train car, Sil watched the other boarding passengers thoughtfully. The train, she concluded, was leaving shortly, and with its impression of cleanliness and speed, was an infinitely better way to get somewhere, anywhere, as long as it wasn’t back to the laboratory. More porters were loading luggage here and there along the length of the train, and as the one nearest her struggled with a particularly heavy wooden chest, Sil snuck past and scooped an undersized blue suitcase from the jumble of bags at his back. She walked away as nonchalantly as she could, dreading the sound of his shout. It never came; relieved, she let her breath out—she hadn’t realized she’d been holding it—and boarded the train at a different car, following the mother and son. Half the train car away, she saw the woman and boy open a door and go into a sleeping compartment.
    Following their example, Sil strolled down the narrow corridor, glanced around quickly, then slipped into the one next to them. There wasn’t much room inside, and what she did