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Authors: Bryan Davis

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“Anyway, the mirror didn't work at first, so Nathan decided maybe it would only work if there was danger. Now, you have to understand that my dad is a real adventurer — you know, extreme sports, skydiving, whitewater kayaking— so he opened the back door and cut the engine. The plane kind of sailed for a while, and Nathan stood right next to the door playing his violin while Kelly held the mirror. Well, I didn't want to look like a coward, so I stood next to Kelly, but the plane took a sudden dip and I stumbled toward the door. Nathan caught me by my shirt, and I was hanging over the edge with just my toes touching the plane. Let me tell you, I was so scared, I … well, never mind that. He pulled me back, Dad restarted the plane, and we went home. The mirror never did anything. Anyway, ever since then, I've been so scared of heights, I have a hard time just walking up the stairs.”

She looked up at him in the rearview mirror, her eyes wide and wet.

“That must have been awful.” He turned back to the road again. Should he say more? Try to give her comfort? It wouldn't be hard to say, “It's all right. Everyone's scared of something,” but that would be a lie. It wasn't okay. Daryl's fear really was a handicap. A phobia was a phobia, no matter how it was caused. Their adventures had led them to a lot of precipices, and she'd probably freeze again the next time it happened. The mission was too important. The lives of billions of people were at stake. So, obviously he couldn't tell her everything was fine, but there had to be something he could do to make her feel better.

Finally, he reached a hand toward the backseat. She took it and wrapped it up in her clasped fingers. For a moment, he stayed silent, feeling the anguish in her painful grip. Then, beginning with a sigh, he said, “Since it just started a few days ago, maybe it's a temporary thing. You'll probably get over it eventually.”

She lowered her head again. “I hope so.”

When they arrived at the observatory, Nathan parked the car in front of the entrance. He surveyed the grounds, now green except for a few spots of snow in shady areas. With Gordon Blue in custody, the danger level seemed low, but who could tell where Mictar lurked? Also, the two Dr. Simons, the Blue and Yellow versions, hadn't made an appearance lately. Where could they be? With his father and mother?

He turned off the engine and jerked out the keys. He had to put his parents out of his mind for now and concentrate on the next step in the journey, finding Francesca.

Kelly popped her head up, blinking. “Are we here?”

“Yep,” Daryl said, looking up at Nathan hopefully. “Time to start a new adventure.”

After Nathan retrieved his mother's violin from the trunk, the foursome marched through the front door and used the numeric codes to enter the secure area of the facility and summon
the elevator. Nathan and Kelly rode first, just in case trouble lay waiting for them at the telescope level.

As they traveled upward, he watched the exit door through the mirror. The reflection showed only their faces and the door behind them, no hint of any danger.

When the elevator opened and they entered the main chamber, Nathan scanned the area. Not a soul anywhere. He looked up. The mirrored ceiling showed a duplicate of the observatory room. Two females sat at the reflected computer desk, exact copies of Clara and Daryl, except that they were upside down in his perspective. Dr. Gordon looked over their shoulders at the computer screens. Soft music emanated from speakers embedded in the curved wall, Strauss's “Blue Danube.”

Daryl Red stood and waved from the ceiling. Her voice broke through the lovely waltz. “Welcome back! We've been wondering what's been going on.”

“We got sort of sidetracked,” Nathan said.

Clara Red got up and stood at Daryl's side. “Another jump through dimensional portals?”

“Big time.” Nathan glanced at the elevator's floor indicator. It had just arrived at the first floor to collect the others. As he looked up again, he fidgeted. “Uh … Daryl? Are you afraid of heights?”

She walked closer to the center of the room. “Not especially. Why?”

“Daryl Blue is, so I was wondering.”

Dr. Gordon raised his head. “Very interesting. A significant difference between parallel characters. The variance between my counterpart and myself was quite striking, as well.”

“Anyway,” Nathan continued, “we have to go back to Earth Yellow, and it's Daryl Red's turn for an adventure. Want to come along?”

She pumped her fist. “Yes! Adventure time!”

“Super. But just don't mention the fear of heights subject to Daryl Blue, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss. I'm just going along for the ride.”

When the elevator door reopened, Daryl Blue bounced out and hustled to the laptop computers. She laid Nathan Blue's violin and camera on the desk and rubbed her hands together. With a big smile spreading across her face, her fingers flew between the keyboard and touch pad. “Setting course for Earth Yellow, Captain.”

“No.” Nathan set his mother's violin next to the other one. “Wait.”

She paused and looked up at him. “A new course?”

“Uh … Let's bring Daryl Red over. Don't you think it's her turn to go with us?”

The corners of Daryl's lips turned ever so slightly downward, and a hint of wetness made her eyes sparkle in the dim light. She cleared her throat and turned back to the computer. “Sure. Right. It
is
her turn.”

Nathan looked at Kelly. She pursed her lips but said nothing. What was she thinking? She had seen Daryl Blue cower like a puppy. They couldn't afford to deal with that kind of phobia.

Holding back a sigh, he watched Daryl set up the transfer. Even after rearguing the points in his mind, pushing her out of the journey felt like slapping a baby for spilling milk. She couldn't help it. But the stalkers wouldn't care. They would exploit her fears.

As he thought about the strange white-haired race, Mictar's words from the performance hall's prop room came back to his mind.
The combination of fear and death is an aroma surpassing all others.
Nathan shivered. Obviously that monster enjoyed feeding on fear.

Nathan laid the photo CD envelope on the computer desk. “Maybe you and Dr. Gordon can analyze the pictures and let us know if you find anything important.”

“Sure.” Daryl inserted the CD into the laptop's drive but kept her head down. “I'll be glad to.”

Kelly leaned close to Daryl and kissed her cheek. “You're a first-hand witness of that foggy world, so you can get Dr. Gordon up to speed while we're gone. No one else can do that.”

“True. And I can give him the cell phone picture of the swirling mist.” Daryl's focus didn't budge, but a weak smile wrinkled her face. “We're all set. Let's get that gorgeous redhead over here.”

In the ceiling view, Daryl Red stood at the center of her chamber, her back within a foot or so of the observatory telescope. Lights flashed from all around. Beams of radiance knifed into the floor and surrounded her body. Within seconds she dissolved and vanished. Then, in the center of the Earth Blue observatory, an indistinct human shape materialized, slowly transforming into the familiar redheaded girl.

She shook her head hard and turned toward them. “Wow! That was a blast!”

“Yeah,” Kelly said. “You never quite get used to it.”

While Daryl Blue rose to her feet, Daryl Red ran over to the desk and stretched out her arms. “Daryl Blue!” she squealed.

As the two embraced warmly, a tear tracked down Daryl Blue's cheek. She drew back, stripped off her new coat, and helped Daryl Red put it on. “I'll bet it's a perfect fit,” Daryl Blue said, wiping the tear away.

After buttoning up the downy, knee-length coat, Daryl Red held Daryl Blue's hand. “Thanks for letting me go. I'll tell you all about it.”

Daryl Blue pulled free and spun back to the computer. “No use wasting time. I'll dial in Earth Yellow now.”

She tapped in a few keystrokes. The Strauss waltz died away, and the ceiling view warped and twisted, then broke into thousands of irregularly shaped globs of color. As she turned up the sound, a new melody swept into the chamber.

Nathan trained his ear on the music. Subtle violins hummed a few simple notes, playing over a thrumming bass. Within seconds, the violins strengthened, blending with cellos and drums until they resounded in a brilliant crescendo. He closed his eyes and drank in the unmatchable glory of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The colors above splashed together with every pulse of vibrant music, as if called to order by the master's guiding baton.

Seconds later, the colors painted a devastated forest scene. New saplings dotted the grassy landscape, vibrating wildly, like a video run at ten times its normal speed. The larger trees were gone, snapped or uprooted by the tornado they had experienced here. Yet, someone had cleared the cones, leaves, and broken branches. Whoever did all the clearing work must have intentionally left the mirror standing. Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to see anything at all. Apparently, someone was expecting them, whether for good or bad.

Nathan checked his inventory — the camera, his mother's violin on the computer desk, and the mirror in his hand. Everything was here.

“Nathan?”

Dr. Gordon's voice. Nathan located the source— the laptop speaker. “Yes?”

“I have some advice. First, it is summer on Earth Yellow, or at least it will be for a little while. I suggest that you shed your coats so you can travel light. Once you are there, the seasonal changes will commence at a normal rate, but, since Earth Yellow's time passage compared to ours fluctuates so wildly, you won't know how time passes in either Earth Red or Earth Blue. Keep that in mind.

“Second, remember that we have no idea where Mictar is. If he is on Earth Yellow, since he is a stalker in a world of prophetic dreams, he will likely learn where you are. Third, my guess is that the two Dr. Simons are still there trying to meddle
with coming events, so they might be able to help you locate your parents. Perhaps they will have thought ahead and provided transportation.”

Nathan nodded at the speaker. “I hope so. It's a long walk from the observatory site to Kelly's house.”

Nathan, Kelly, and Daryl stripped off their coats, leaving each one with sweatshirts and jeans. Daryl pulled her red shirt collar over her gray sweatshirt's neckline. “See?” she said, pointing at the collar. “I'm color coded.”

Still seated at the desk, Daryl Blue did the same with her collar, revealing a sky-blue top. “Me too! A rhapsody in blue!”

Kelly shook her head and lifted the camera strap. “Let's get out of here. One Daryl is quite enough for me.”

Nathan picked up his mother's violin and guided Kelly to the transport point. When the three had gathered near the telescope, Daryl Blue called from the computer desk. “Say hi to Francesca for me!”

As usual, lights flashed to life from trumpetlike fixtures around the base of the perimeter wall and shot toward the ceiling. Sizzling as they split apart, the beams zoomed toward the floor to create a cage of light around the trio.

The landscape in the mirror above seemed to reach down with a gaping maw and swallow them. As the new colors swept across Nathan's view, Clara and Daryl Blue waved, then disappeared in an undulating rainbow.

The forest scene sharpened, and the frenzied saplings slowed to a normal waving motion, blown by a fresh, warm breeze from the south. The sun, low over the eastern horizon, peeked through a thin bank of clouds.

Nathan turned around. A tri-fold mirror stood before him. New supporting boards anchored it to the ground, and a wood-frame portico stretched a half roof about five feet over the top. Ropes tied a flapping canvas tarp to the portico's frame, giving the mirror shade — probably to keep the sun from flashing
a light and accidentally transporting an unsuspecting raccoon that happened to be wandering by.

“I can see!” Kelly grabbed Nathan's arm. “My vision is perfect!”

He gazed into her eyes. The glassy fog had faded away, leaving behind crystal clear brown irises. “That's fantastic!”

“Let's get this show on the road!” Daryl stripped off her sweatshirt, revealing a bright red polo, and tied the sleeves around her waist. “Uh … where
is
the road?”

“Not far.” Something behind the tarp caught Nathan's eye, a motorcycle tailpipe protruding beyond the mirror's support post.

He set down the violin case and hustled toward the pipe. The two motorcycles he and Kelly had used were parked between the mirror and the back of the makeshift portico. A helmet sat near each kickstand, red and blue, matching the trim of their corresponding bikes. “Simon Yellow's been busy,” Nathan said as he wheeled the red-trimmed bike out into the open. “Want to bet they're gassed and ready to go?”

Daryl scooped up the helmets and handed one to Kelly. “Where to first?”

“Either of you hungry?” Kelly asked, laying a hand on her stomach. “All we've had lately is soup.”

“Sure.” Nathan packed the camera, mirror, and violin in the side bags. “But something fast.”

Kelly put on the helmet, muffling her voice. “How are we going to find Francesca? Won't she and Dr. Malenkov be in hiding?”

“We don't have to find her.” Nathan mounted the saddle, making room for Daryl behind him as she slid on the other helmet. “Just her guardian angel.”

7
THE GUARDIAN ANGEL
 

Nathan cruised down the two-lane road, searching for a place to get a bite to eat. With the whistling wind brushing away all other sounds, his guardian angel comment echoed in his mind. Gunther Stoneman surely fit that label. The young delivery van driver had shown a true papa-bear spirit when they left him to watch over Francesca. If they could find Gunther, locating Nathan's Earth Yellow mother would be a snap.

After riding several miles, the three spotted a Burger King near the entrance to the interstate. They dismounted and hurried to the door, the two girls removing their helmets as they walked.

While Kelly and Daryl scanned the menu, Nathan kept his eye on the employees behind the service counter. They seemed slow, lethargic. The few customers seated at the tables were quiet … deathly quiet. Even the young children said nothing as they pushed ketchup-coated french fries into their mouths and chewed without a sound. One pigtailed girl yawned and blinked weary eyes, barely able to hold her head up.

After the girls ordered and headed for the restroom, Nathan fished out the older dollar bills from his wallet, avoiding the new designs that would draw attention to the inscribed dates. He handed them to the cashier, a female teenager, short, with black hair pulled back into a bun. As he stretched and yawned, he read her name tag. “Rough night, huh, Paula?”

She stuffed the bills into her drawer and scooped coins out of change slots. “No worse than other nights.”

As she counted the coins, Nathan studied her dark cheeks and the bags under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept for days. But why? Why did everyone look so tired? And why so quiet? Could the nightmare epidemic have infected everyone? How could he learn what was going on without giving himself away? He decided just to go for it. “So … what did you dream about?”

Paula looked up and blinked at him. “You.”

He pointed at himself. “Me? Really?”

“Well, not you, exactly.” She laid the change in his hand. “I'm a next-day dreamer, so I've already seen all the customers who will come in today. I don't pay much attention, though. You've seen one, you've seen them all.”

“Are you sure you saw me?”

As she narrowed her eyes at him, her brow bent low. “Maybe not. You'd think I'd remember a guy like …” Her face suddenly turned ashen.

“What's wrong?”

Her eyes widening again, she took a half step back. “Are you a traveler?”

Nathan hesitated. Apparently he was supposed to know what a traveler was. “Uh … what do you think?”

She studied his face again. “You don't look tired, so you have to be.” She added a sigh as she continued. “It must be nice to walk freely outside of the dreamscape and see other places that no one else sees.”

“I guess that's true,” he replied. “Travelers do have an advantage.”

She leaned over the counter and whispered. “Then you'd better get out of here. You know the rules.”

“Oh, yeah. The rules.” Nathan stared at the menu behind Paula. He really couldn't ask about the rules. Obviously everyone
was already supposed to know them. He kept his focus on the menu, taking his time. Maybe her impatience would make her give away some information

She drummed her fingers on the counter, apparently to hide her whispers. “The other customers are looking at you. They're going to know you're a traveler.”

He reached for his wallet. “If you get me a Whopper and a Coke, I'll get out of here as fast as I can.”

She gave him a quick nod. “Just don't tell anyone, okay? I mean, you won't report me, will you?”

Leaning close, he whispered, “I won't tell. Everything will be fine.”

“As if I could trust a traveler.” She whirled around, snatched their sacks of food, and plopped them down on the counter. “The stalker won't make you suffer like I will tonight.”

As Nathan paid for his order, he hid a nervous swallow. “White ponytail and ghoulish eyes, right?”

“So you
have
seen him.” She tilted her head. “Are you sure you're a traveler?”

“I don't think I'm sure of anything.” He gathered the food sacks and strode to the dining area where Kelly and Daryl waited at a booth. “Come on,” he said, nodding at the exit. “We can't stay.”

Daryl flicked her thumb toward the booth behind her. “Something weird's going on,” she whispered. “Those people are talking about a murder that'll happen tonight. They say the police know about it, but they're not going to —”

“There you are!” A muscular young man strode in through the door, wearing jeans and a Chicago Bears T-shirt.

Nathan shot to his feet. “Gunther! I was just about to try to call you. How'd you know we'd be here?”

“Grab your food.” Gunther leaned toward the door. “Let's get out of here. Too risky to explain in public.”

All three followed Gunther out the exit. His Stoneman
Enterprises van, with a flatbed trailer in tow, was parked across several spaces at the back of the lot. A metal ramp spanned the gap between the trailer bed and the pavement.

“Load up your bikes,” Gunther said, “and let's get moving.”

Nathan pushed up his kickstand. “But how did you know we'd be riding—”

“Never mind that.” Gunther grabbed Kelly's motorcycle handles. “Let's go!”

After securing the bikes with ropes, Gunther hustled to the driver's seat. Daryl sat up front with him while Nathan and Kelly climbed into the back where a comfortable new bench seat had been installed, much better than the hard floor they had used the last time.

Gunther slapped the van into drive and jerked the load into motion. He hurried through the parking lot and then into traffic with barely a glance at the other cars. Nathan bit into his hamburger and looked at Daryl, then at Kelly. While they munched their own sandwiches, their eyes seemed to ask the same questions he had on his own mind. When would Gunther explain what was going on? What was he so worried about?

As the van accelerated on the interstate, soft music played from all around, rich bass tones — a cellist performing a sacred hymn— combining with the mellow violins of an accompanying orchestra. Apparently Gunther had also installed a new stereo system, a timely addition. The soothing music seemed to calm everyone down.

Finally, when the van reached highway speed, Gunther let out a deep breath. “Have you figured out what's going on around here?”

After swallowing his mouthful, Nathan nodded. “Sort of.” He glanced at a newspaper on the seat. The headline read, “New Dream Rules Now in Effect.” He handed it to Kelly and leaned toward the front. “It looks like the nightmare epidemic we heard about when we were here before has spread to just
about everyone. Some people are dreaming about their own future, and then it comes true. Even if it's a bad dream, they're afraid to do anything that might change it. If they try, they'll have a terrible nightmare the next night, usually about dying, and they can't stop it from happening.”

“That's true for the next-day dreamers.” Gunther pointed at himself. “I'm a traveler, and I saw you in my dream, even your motorcycles, so I knew to bring a trailer. It took me a while to figure out which Burger King it was. That's why I'm a little late.”

Kelly passed the newspaper to the front seat. “Did you see yourself coming here?”

“No. Travelers don't always see the future. We see things that might happen anywhere in the world.”

“Might happen?” Kelly repeated.

“Yeah, it's sort of an expectation, like what people want to happen. Sometimes it comes true, and sometimes it doesn't. Francesca's a traveler, and she saw you at the Burger King, too, so with both of us dreaming the same thing, I had to check it out.”

“Have you been in contact with her a lot?” Nathan asked.

“Just about every day. She's been looking for you. She says the only way to stop this mess is for you to come with her in her dreams.”

“I kind of figured that out. We saw her in the Earth Blue dimension while she was wandering around Wal-Mart in her dream.” Nathan shook his head. That sounded too strange to be true. But what wasn't strange in this dawning of interfinity?

“Francesca didn't mention anything about Wal-Mart,” Gunther said, “but you can ask her about it yourself. If you two don't put a stop to this dreaming business, the whole world is going to crack. The financial system almost collapsed when people started investing based on their dreams. That's the main reason the rules went into effect.”

“But how can the government enforce them?” Nathan asked. “They can't control dreams.”

Gunther looked back at him and wiggled his fingers as if casting a spell. He stretched out his reply, altering his voice to a creepy bass. “No, but Zelda can.”

Nathan grinned at his antics. “Who's Zelda?”

“The only survivor from the flight one ninety-one crash three years ago.”

“Three years?” Kelly said. “It's already been three years?”

“I'm afraid so.” Gunther sighed. “Three very long years.”

Kelly leaned forward and joined Nathan, copying his pose as he rested his chin on his hands against the front seat. “I met Zelda,” she said. “I took some pictures of her, and she gave me her business card.”

“Do you still have it?” Nathan asked.

“It's at home, but I remember her title said doctor, so she must be well educated.”

Gunther laughed under his breath. “Well she's smart enough to cash in on her celebrity status. She claims to be a prophetess, that God saved her from the crash to prove her spiritual power. She started predicting major events perfectly and claimed that she could control the nightmare epidemic. When the dreams spread to almost half of the population, she had to set down rules. We're not allowed to try to change the future. She says it's predestined, and we shouldn't mess with God's plans. After that, when people tried to take advantage anyway, this ghostly guy would come and haunt their next nightmare. Lots of people died, either during the dream itself or because of a terrible accident the next day. She says she knows when people — as she says— ‘injure the fabric of predestined purpose.’ And she knows who they are. So when she says the boogeyman's going to get you, she really means it.”

“Mictar has to be the boogeyman.” Nathan wondered at his own conclusion. Why would Mictar be working with Zelda, and
how did that fit in with his agenda to merge the three earths?

Maybe it had something to do with generating fear.

“So,” Kelly said, “is Francesca thirteen now?”

“Yes, and a beautiful young lady. She has a great handle on what's going on, but her father is just confused by the whole thing. Fortunately, he trusts me completely, so I get to come over whenever I want to.”

During the rest of the journey, Nathan explained to Gunther everything that had happened in the other dimensions, including Mictar's plunge into the mirror at the funeral, their encounter with Francesca at the Wal-Mart, and their experience with the stalkers and supplicants in the misty world. Since he filled in as many details as possible, and since Kelly added her color commentary in dozens of places, by the time he finished, they had passed Iowa City and were closing in on Newton.

Gunther pulled off the highway at the Newton exit. “We're meeting at Francesca's old house. It was sold at auction to a guy named Vernon Clark, but no one's moved in yet.”

Kelly nudged Nathan's ribs but said nothing. It wasn't hard to figure out why. Tony, her father, had mentioned that his father had bought the house after Francesca's mother died. Vernon Clark was probably Kelly's grandfather.

“About a month ago,” Gunther continued, “Dr. Malenkov asked Vernon for permission to come to the house to get the trunk Francesca left behind. Once he got a key, they started going there regularly. You'll see why in a few minutes.”

After passing between the familiar cornfields, tall and fully tasseled, they pulled into the driveway next to the cottonwood tree now dressed in late summer greenery. Gunther got out and stretched as he looked up at the sky. “Cloudy. Maybe Iowa will sleep easy tonight.”

Nathan joined him and gazed at the gray skies. Thick clouds streamed in from the west and covered the descending sun. “Do clouds keep Mictar from stalking dreams?”

“Not sure. The blanket effect might be psychological, but it seems to help. Maybe people feel kind of vulnerable when the weather's clear, like the ghosts can reach down from wherever they are and pierce our minds.”

As they walked toward the front door, the sound of the garage opening made them halt. Dr. Malenkov, the younger Earth Yellow version, stepped out, his eyes darting all around. “Please park the van inside without delay.”

While Gunther hustled back to his van, Nathan, Kelly, and Daryl quick-marched into the garage. Dr. Malenkov ushered them toward the inner doorway. “Welcome, friends. Francesca will be so glad to see you.” He added a soft laugh. “And, of course, I am glad to see you, as well.”

After Gunther drove the van into the garage, Nathan helped him detach the trailer and roll it next to the van. While the motorized door closed, he pulled the mirror and violin from the motorcycle pack. “Where is your car, Dr. Malenkov?”

“Hidden,” the teacher replied. “I wanted to be sure we had enough room for you here.” He waved his hand toward the open inner door. “Come, come. The time is approaching.”

Nathan and Gunther joined the girls and followed the graying gentleman through the familiar laundry room, kitchen, and hallway. Sweet violin music filled the air, growing louder with each step. When they reached the bedroom door, Dr. Malenkov paused and peered inside. A white glow bathed his face as he turned to Nathan, smiling. “She is ready.”

The music stopped. As the glow faded, Nathan and the others filed past Dr. Malenkov. Inside, Francesca sat on a solitary wooden chair with a music stand in front, her violin and bow on her lap. With her shoulders back and her head straight, her hair fell in ringlets of black down the sleeves of her flowing white dress. Although she was now a young lady, a familiar child-like mirth sparkled in her eyes.

She smiled as she rose to her feet. “I'm glad you finally came,
Son.” Her soft voice carried across the empty room in lilting echoes. “I have been praying for your arrival for three years.”

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