Eternity's Edge (16 page)

Finally, he let out a long sigh. It was time to make up for his blunder. He reached over and laid a gentle hand on her arm. “I was wrong, Kelly. Keep me in line. You're good at that.”

Kelly kept her gaze fixed on the paper. A little smile grew on her face, a gentle smile that spread a soothing balm over his aching heart.

Nathan allowed a smile of his own to emerge. It felt good to apologize, very, very good.

The translation process continued. Sometimes the voices would stop for a while, as if giving the singers a few minutes to rest, but they always started back up again, beginning with a ten-second-long burst in which everyone belted out a C-natural at various octaves before crashing into the usual cacophony of horrible dissonance.

After an hour or so, the music came to a halt, another rest. Kelly slid her feet back to the floorboard and held the paper in front of her. “There might be more, but here's what I have so far. ‘Solomon location square music key circle sleep interpreter dream bedroom Patar.’”

“Very interesting.” Nathan let the words sink in, analyzing them as they passed through his mind. It was just a jumble of words, but his father's name was in there, so it had to be important. And, strangely enough, every word was a noun. The sentence needed verbs, at least a couple to give it meaning.

He turned the volume up one notch. “Can you catch any verbs when she sings a different note, maybe stray verbs that don't fit in with the rest of the stuff she's singing?”

Kelly lifted her feet again. “I'll try, but the music is so obnoxious, it's giving me a headache.”

“Let's make a pit stop while they're resting. We need gas anyway.” He exited the interstate at Walcott, a few miles west of Davenport. An Iowa 80 truck stop and a Pilot Travel Center faced each other on the secondary highway, but darkness covered
every opening except for a faint glow from the window in the Pilot's doorway.

Driving slowly, he pulled up to one of the Pilot's service islands. There was no sign of power — no prices on the pumps or words on the instruction screens. It felt like a disaster scene, a war zone or the aftermath of a plague.

He opened the door and slid outside. “Come on. Might as well see if we can use the restroom.” As he approached the entry, he glanced up at the late evening sky. The clouds had raced away, replaced by a purple canvas speckled with hundreds of shimmering lights, much bigger and brighter than stars.

The air had grown hot, very hot. Did that mean it was still summer on Earth Yellow? Or maybe Indian summer? Or could it have already cycled to the next year's summer?

He pushed his sleeves up past his elbows. Although he had long ago shed his sweatshirt and thrown it in the backseat, he had to live with the overly hot shirt. He had nothing but skin underneath.

Kelly, walking slowly next to him, her poorly focused eyes meandering from side to side, had also stripped down to her shirt, but her short-sleeved white tunic, loose and flowing, likely kept her cool.

A crashing sound made him pivot. Kelly clutched his hand and froze. “What was that?” she asked.

Nathan scanned the highway. At the truck stop across the road, a man in a business suit had just broken a door window with the butt of a rifle. He reached through the jagged hole and opened the door from the inside, then disappeared into the darkness.

“Armed robbery,” Nathan replied, pointing in that direction. “The upper class has sunk to looting.”

She squinted toward the truck stop. “What are we going to do?”

“I don't think it's a good idea to get shot stopping a beer and pretzel heist.”

Kelly let out a weak sigh. “No. I guess not.”

Still looking back, Nathan pushed the door open and walked inside. When he turned, the twin barrels of a shotgun pressed against his forehead.

10
ABODAH'S MESSAGE

 

“Store's closed,” a woman on the trigger side of the gun announced. “Got a problem with that?”

Nathan backed away a step and pushed Kelly behind him. Swallowing, he tried to keep his voice steady. “Uh … no problem. I just needed gas, and the door was open, so I —”

“Thought you'd see what you could take,” the woman finished. She lowered the gun to her hip. With only an oil lamp on the counter casting light on her stocky body, her features blended in with the dim interior of the store. Yet, her wide eyes communicated more fear than bravado.

“I wasn't going to take anything.” Nathan drew in a deep breath, keeping his eye on the shotgun. That lady could pull the trigger at any moment. The thought of Tony Clark getting his guts blown out sent chills across his body. But he had to move on, conquer this fear, and press forward. “I know how to stop what's causing all these weird events,” he finally said, “but if I don't get gas, I can't get where I'm going.”

The wrinkles in her brow slowly eased. “You got money?”

Nathan flicked his thumb toward the pumps. “Does the credit card thing work?”

She shook her head. “Cash only, but if I can't get the generator running, nothing will work.”

He dug out his wallet and rifled through his bills, trying to calculate how much he could buy. “What's the price per gallon?”

Now, instead of fear, her eyes gave away confusion. She set the gun butt on the floor and glanced back and forth as if lost. “Uh … Three seventy-nine … I think.”

A gust of wind pulled open the door and slammed it shut again, knocking over a stack of newspapers. The room grew suddenly cold, and the smell of burning firewood drifted by. An overhead fluorescent light flickered on, and a hum sounded from the cash register.

“What am I talking about?” the woman finally said. “That's way too high.” She leaned the shotgun against the counter and ran her fingers through her short graying hair. “What?” Using both hands now, she grabbed two shocks and pulled. “What happened? My hair is gone!”

Kelly blinked at her. “Was it long and as black as a raven?”

“Yes!” Her whole body quaked as she continued to comb her fingers through her hair. “What's going on? Why aren't there any customers?” Finally, she backed into the counter and stared wide-eyed again. “Is the world coming to an end?”

Kelly stepped slowly forward, her hand out to guide her way. When she reached the woman, she set her hand on her shoulder. “Turn on the pumps, and I'll tell you all about it.”

The woman stared at her and nodded stiffly. “Okay. I can do that.”

Giving Kelly a smile, Nathan strode toward the door. He picked up one of the spilled newspapers, that day's
Chicago Tribune
. With no sports or entertainment sections, it seemed lightweight … void of anything frivolous. He quickly thumbed through the few pages. No advertisements appeared anywhere, just long articles and a few black and white photos.

As he made his way to the car, he pushed his sleeves back down and read the front headline. In big, bold letters it spelled out “PANIC!” and underneath, a smaller headline read, “Midwest and Southeast Hardest Hit by Cosmic Terror.”

When he shifted his eyes to read the article, a thump and a
loud hum jerked his attention toward the gas pumps. The island lights flashed on, and zeroes appeared on the digital meters. Nathan set the paper on the trunk, pushed the nozzle into the tank, and squeezed the trigger. The gallons meter began counting, but the dollars and cents meter ticked up at a rate so slow, it would easily stay under a dollar by the time he finished.

While the gas flowed, he read the newspaper's lead article. The governments of Earth Blue had determined the cosmic abnormalities were the result of some kind of imminent alien invasion. The long-dead airline disaster victims had to be imposters, brought to earth to create havoc and gain influence. The United States would lead the effort to battle against the encroaching power, apparently another realm invading through some kind of wormhole in space. Details about how they would carry out this battle were sketchy at best. The entire country, of course, operated under a state of emergency. With widespread blackouts and very little fuel available, law enforcement had been relegated to foot patrols in many areas. The National Guard kept order in the cities, but little if any help was available in rural areas. Crime was rampant.

Nathan folded the paper in half. Saving the airline passengers had brought more trouble, proving Patar's warning. The stalker's words, spoken while everyone else on board sat frozen, had penetrated his mind and locked in place.
If these souls are cheated out of death, their escape will create more darkness than light. Take care not to stir darkened pools when you know neither the depth of the water nor the creatures that lurk beneath the surface.

Nathan shivered. Patar was right again. Maybe it was about time he listened, put away his emotional attachments, and do what someone far wiser and more experienced told him to do. Without his father around to steer him away from a dumb step, he needed a word of wisdom, or maybe a kick in the pants, which Patar seemed more than willing to deliver.

After topping off the tank and grabbing the newspaper again, he hurried back inside. Kelly hadn't come out, and with her eyesight still so blurry, he didn't want to leave her alone for very long.

As soon as he opened the door, the clerk, sitting on a stool behind the counter, greeted him with a big smile. Kelly leaned against the front of the counter, munching on a stick of beef jerky.

“Welcome back, Nathan,” the clerk said. “Kelly and I are having a very nice talk.”

He laid the paper on the counter. “It looks like you're feeling better.”

“I am. This lovely young lady explained everything to me.”

He gave Kelly a quizzical look. “Oh. That's good. I guess.” Nodding at the paper, he added, “How much for this and the gas? The pump only registered about fifty cents.”

The clerk waved a hand at him. “On the house. And more to boot.”

“Drinks and snacks,” Kelly said, holding up a bulging plastic bag. “We're all set.”

After getting back on the road, Nathan reached into the bag and pulled out a Dr Pepper. “What went on back there?”

Furrowing her brow, Kelly swallowed the last bite of jerky before answering. “It was so weird. For a minute, she was all blurry, then I could see her clearly, but she was younger, with long jet-black hair. Then, she went blurry again. The whole time we were talking, everything seemed to fade in and out, even the store itself, like I was seeing two different worlds. But the other world was always clearer.”

“Dr. Gordon must be right. The two universes are coming together. You're seeing into Earth Yellow, and it's clear to you, just like it is when you're there.”

“I guess so.” She flipped the radio back on. The choir had already restarted their ghastly song, so she quickly assumed
her translating position and planted her pen on the paper. This time, she squinted more than usual, cocking her head from time to time as if making sure she heard something right.

Nathan drummed his fingers on the wheel. He ached to ask what she heard, but any interruption might ruin her concentration and make her miss something. He had to be patient and let Kelly finish. This was her job, her talent. She could do it.

After about a half hour, Nathan's cell phone rang. While Kelly stayed glued to her task, he flipped open the phone.

“Hello,” he whispered.

“Nathan. It's Daryl … Daryl Blue. I can barely hear you. What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I just have to stay quiet. What's up?”

“Red's got something cooking. No voice yet, but she's going to try to send a text message to you.”

“Wow! That was fast.”

“Seems like it to us, but it's been months on Earth Yellow. She said she had trouble getting the parts she needed. With the whole world in a nightmare turmoil, it was tough getting anything done.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at the newspaper in the backseat. “Trouble's popping on this world, too.”

“All three dimensions are ready to crack. Dr. Gordon's been monitoring the news on Earth Red. Every nuclear-equipped nation has an itchy finger poised over the doomsday button. If we don't fix this thing soon, it's going to make
Independence Day
look like a friendly picnic with our alien friends.”

Nathan heaved a sigh. “We're working on it.”

“I know, but there's a new problem. I can't tune in the mirror at the Earth Yellow Interfinity Labs site. Dr. Gordon thinks someone might have moved it to make ready for the construction of the laboratory's first building, back when they were called StarCast. That means we can't go there unless your magic mirror does the trick. Plus, the time difference between
us and Earth Yellow makes communicating with Daryl Red a real chore. Basically she has to wait for hours to get a response from me that takes only a few minutes. So, as soon as you get the text message, try to answer her. When she finally gets it, she'll have been waiting a long time.”

“Got it. Talk to you soon.”

Nathan closed the phone. Kelly looked up expectantly. After he gave her a quick summary of the call, she returned to her painstaking chore, straining to listen while squinting at her paper.

A few seconds later, the phone chimed its text message note. Nathan flipped it up and punched through the menu silently, glancing at the deserted highway as he pulled the car to the shoulder and stopped. When he reached his inbox, he read the initial screen. Three messages.

He began paging through them, starting with the oldest. Since each message had to be short enough to send in the cell phone's text format, he had to piece the three together to complete the entire note.

“Nathan. News update. Tony Clark moved into Francesca's old house, and Gunther delivered the letter. Tony's making the bow and should have it done in a couple of weeks. That might be only a few days for you. Maybe hours. Who can tell? Anyway, I had to modify one of the original IBM PCs and use an asynchronous cable to hook it to my radio transmitter. What a pain! But at least it works. Daryl Blue picks it up and modulates it to a cell signal. Just reply to let me know you received it. She'll pick it up again and send it my way. I'll be waiting.”

Nathan typed out a reply with his thumbs. “Good work. Will try to get there soon.” He sent the message and clapped the phone shut. After pulling back onto the highway, he squeezed the steering wheel again. The fate of the entire world — no, three worlds— waited for him to get a ten-foot-long bow that was being constructed by a teenager in another realm, take it to
a ridiculously dangerous fourth world, and play an impossibly huge violin, all while saving his parents and three color-coded supplicants from death at the hands, or the voices, of the choir from hell. Could it get any more complicated?

When they reached the final exit, just a few miles from the Earth Blue home, Kelly turned off the radio. “Okay, I have all the verbs and a few other words, too, and I had to mix them in with the nouns, but there were a lot of possible combinations. Here is one that makes some sense.” She licked her lips and held the paper close to her eyes. “‘Solomon lives. Location is square where music harmonizes. Key is circle of fifths. Sleep with interpreter. Follow dream in bedroom where Patar stalks.’”

Nathan ran the sentences through his mind. At least now they had a real message, probably instructions from Abodah, the woman who had helped them in the misty world, but what exactly was she saying? As a rebel who worked secretly as Patar's ally, she was trying to hide her words from the others, but it seemed too cryptic. What could a dream in the bedroom be about? Patar had spoken during a weird dream there, but was it really a dream? And he appeared on the plane, too. He said something about giving a gift that could be used to battle Mictar.

Patar's strange words again echoed in Nathan's mind. Take care not to stir darkened pools when you know neither the depth of the water nor the creatures that lurk beneath the surface.

What creatures could he have been talking about? The supplicants?

As Patar's words faded, Nathan silently formed the new sentence on his lips, repeating one phrase in a whisper. “Key is circle of fifths.”

Abodah had to be talking about the musical circle, but how could it relate to the mirrors?

“So,” Kelly said. “Got any clue?”

“Maybe. Let's fire up the mirror and check out all the squares again.”

When they arrived at the house, Nathan pushed the garage opener, but the door wouldn't budge. Obviously, the power outage continued. He parked in the driveway, helped Kelly out, and the two skulked toward the door. Nathan carried the Quattro mirror and his violin, while Kelly kept the camera on a strap around her neck. Clouds once again blanketed the sky, bringing a new chill to the air. As Daryl had indicated, summer on Earth Yellow had long ago flown by, and winter was at the doorstep. Could another snowfall be far away?

Once inside the bedroom, Nathan restored the mirror squares to their original positions. Kelly held up the “Foundation's Key” music while he played it through. Instantly, the squares flashed with light, and, over the next minute or so, the reflection morphed into four hundred scenes.

“Okay,” he said, lowering his bow, “what's the message again?”

Kelly squinted at the back of the page. “Solomon lives. Location is square where music harmonizes. Key is circle of fifths. Sleep with interpreter. Follow dream in bedroom where Patar stalks.”

He walked closer to the mirrored wall. “So we need to figure out which squares make a circle of fifths.”

“I was supposed to learn about that stuff in music theory,” Kelly said, rising to join him. “But it got purged when my mother left.”

“‘Foundation's Key’ is in C Major. The circle of fifths for that key will start with C-natural.” He pointed at one of the squares and shifted his finger from square to square in a circular pattern as he continued. “Then it moves by fifths through twelve notes, G – D – A – E – B – F-sharp, and so on. We have to figure out which square represents C-natural and find the circle in the mirror.”