He shook his head. "What do you mean, Waunita? Who did this for the store?"

56.She reached under the counter, pulled out a brochure, and handed it to him.

"Maybe they can help you, too, Travis."

He glanced down at the brochure and almost laughed. Maybe he should have been surprised to see the crescent moon and capital D, but he wasn't.

Duratek. So this was what they did--this was one of the possibilities they advertised.

"Mrs. McKay was worried," Waunita said. "But now she is full of hope all the time. She says things have not been this good in many years. She is paying me more."

Travis gazed out the front window. Desiccated scraps of litter blew down Elk Street like dirty tumbleweeds in the gloom. No, Waunita was wrong.

Things were not good--they were not good at all. Who were these people?

What did they know about real possibilities? He glanced down at the crescent moon on the brochure. Once before he had seen a svm1-ir>1 oil -^.t^, *^,.,,, ,;^i,( t-1-.o ^r>lr1-,--.irc, ot-umki or) 59.56 mark anthony out the door of the saloon. Travis turned chairs up on tables and swept the floor. He wished Deirdre was there. Not to help with the work, but to keep him company, and maybe play a soft song on her mandolin. He finished the rest of his work in silence.

It was late. Time to lock the door, head upstairs, make a try at sleeping. Travis grabbed the keys from the hook behind the bar, then paused. He let his gaze wander over the saloon. It all should have been warm and familiar. Instead it was like looking at a foreign landscape.

Nothing was right anymore. The heat, the town, Max. What had happened to Castle City?

What happened to you, Travisi He wasn't certain if the voice in his mind was his own, or if it was the other voice, the one that told him things, the one that sounded like Jack. But that voice hadn't spoken to him since his return to Earth.

Whatever its source, there was truth in the voice's words. Maybe Castle City hasn't changed, Travis. Maybe you have.

All the same, something was wrong. Travis wasn't sure what it was, but it had something to do with the weather, and the man in black, and the crescent moon logo. But how did it all fit together?

He shook his head. Once before he had wondered where he was going to get answers to his impossible questions. But this time there was no old-fashioned revival tent glowing in the night before him.

Maybe they can help you, too. . . .

Or did he have someplace to go for answers after all? He dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the crumpled brochure. The crescent moon glowed in the illumination of the neon bar lights. Duratek. What could they do for him? What changes might they bring to his life? He hesitated, then opened the brochure.New shock flowed through him, as if his own body 60.l-iirl K^r*rm^ l-lip lArirp A mnoalp nf "m11iant" ima(yp