a ladder in the wall before them led up another hole . mike nodded quietly , his chin bobbing against the top of her head . i lowered my head a little and kept my foot hard down . outside maybe the sound would have somewhere to go . it is made constantly new and if it is to survive over time it does so in the theater of memory . and then the most extraordinary thing happened : in those dead , dreaming husks , there was activity . it was sexy as hell and everyone wanted to rub his head . 