Dot and keep his last worthwhile anchor from breaking loosethey would watch him more closely than they already were. His value to them was over. They couldn't seriously expect him to be of much use.
Burnford, perhapsor some of the others now waiting under the straight-line path. They were useful. He Psychlone was just a security burden, best kept under close surveillance. He had to talk to Dot. Just in case, Prohaska said, I want an extra set of Pampers." Burnford turned to Fowler and looked at him intently. Larry has been having trouble with his girlfriend, he said. Fowler shook his head vigorously. I can handle it." I'm sure Mr. Fowler understands this is more important than any temporary domestic upset, Silvera said. Yes. Fowler nodded. Damn them all! He was a virtual prisoner and of little use to them. He felt like he was being taunted. The sick sensation in his stomachworry about Dorothy and the decisions she would be making right nowmade his throat dry and he coughed. We'll be fine." You can make a phone call if you wish, Silvera said. Might help cool things off until you can get back to her." I can't say anything meaningful with one of your soldiers listening in." Well, it has to be that way." Of course, Fowler said. When we set up our communications center, we'll route you through. That'll be this evening, unless something delays us."
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Starting at four p.m., December 24, in Kilkennie, Ohio, fifteen fires broke out in ten minutes. Vandals were blamed. In one fire at a nursing home, seven patients were burned to death. Witnesses said the fires seemed to erupt by themselves. A wheatfield outside of Kilkennie was scorched in six wide swaths, forming a giant asterisk in the snow-spackled earth. Twenty miles farther along the path, whole hillsides were marked with crude designs: weeping eyes suspended above flames, hands with fingers missing, stick figures with twisted limbs. Two deserted farmhouses creaked and shuddered in an unnatural wind. Elmsweakened by recent diseasetoppled. Birds walked on the ground and would not fly, even when threatened. On the roads, automobile accidents increased. Minor incidents between motorists erupted into violence; three homicides occurred in four square miles within an hour. Insects fell from the air, burnt to cinders. The sky darkened. More snow was forecast for the evening. In Haverstock, a soldier guarding the university grounds found a pay telephone inadvertently left connected. Worried by rumors, he called his father in Dayton. By seven o'clock, the government's small evacuation effort was a shambles. Phones were tied up across the city. Roads and highways were jammed. Airports were mobbed. The word was out. What had happened in Lorobu and Haverstock was going to happen in Dayton, only worse.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The clock finished chiming the tenth hour. Jacobs put away his book and sighed, turning to look at Trumbauer. Trumbauer was playing a game of chess with Tim; Thesiger looked on. Miss Unamuno was sitting by the window, looking at the black night and the flakes of snow faintly visible by the light in the room. Snow muffles sound, Jacobs said. That's why it's so quiet outside." No wind, Tim said. In Lorobu there was lots of wind." Thesiger tapped the boy on the shoulder. Pay attention to the game. This man will pick your brains if you're not careful." Really! Trumbauer huffed. Machen took a phone call in the kitchen. When he returned to the living room, he said, It's getting worse. Jacobs nodded. They had heard about the panic three-quarters of an hour before. Now, with the fireplace blazing and such calm domesticity all around them, the reports seemed far away and unimportant. Jacobs noticed the sensation and worried about it. They were too calm, too steady. Outside, a truck generator coughed and stopped. They had ignored the gentle hum until now. Tim looked Psychlone up and said, I don't want to play any more." What can we do to protect ourselves if something goes wrong? Jacobs asked. Nothing will go wrong, Machen said, sounding too certain. We've had no word of trouble" Would we hear about minor things? Thesiger asked. Franklin is right. They might be normal occurrences for the most part, or too unusual to be reported by people not in the know, afraid they'll be called crazy. I can feel it. It's very strong now. More ... willful." It may accelerate as it approaches its prey, Miss Unamuno said.
The checkpoints report its progress is normal. Nothing unusual has happened." That we've heard about, Thesiger added. Please, General, allow us our fear. It may save us if anything goes wrong."
But Machen shook his head stubbornly. Jacobs could recognize the symptomsfear solidifying into trust and reliance on a grand plan. Finding comfort in the chain of command, in the known and projected rather than the unknown and unpredictable. Jacobs could almost relax and let the need take him over, too. In dangerous situations in the Navy, he had done that. He had survived. Others with the same attitude hadn't. Chain of command is essential in an operation like this, Machen said, staring at them one by one. His voice was subdued. The truck generator started again, louder this time, more abrasive. General, I think all electrical equipment should be turned off before the pass-over, Thesiger said.
The trucks are filled with equipment. It would be awkward to shut them down now." This is more than a hunch, Thesiger said. Mr. Trumbauer feels it and so do I. It has changed. I'm not sure how, but my"
Yes, Trumbauer interrupted, rubbing his hands. My guide is jumpy, if that's the right word. He smiled weakly. Mine, too, Miss Unamuno said. The lights hurt my eyes. The noise hurts my ears." Back to the cave, Machen said, almost fiercely. He pointed to Simons and Davies. Move the trucks beyond the barn and put them all on battery power. Is that okay?"
Thesiger thought for a moment, head cocked. Yes."
Let's turn off all house appliances and lights and get candles going. Can we run our tape recorders on batteries?" Yes, Thesiger said. And collect all weapons, knives and so on, as planned. Davies left to pass on the orders. Is it coming any faster? Machen asked. He was sweating, though he was across the room from the fire.
Marginally, Trumbauer said, putting away the chess pieces. If I'm right." You are, Miss Unamuno said. Candles were brought out of the kitchen and placed on tables, the mantle, and shelves. Two propane lanterns were set up in the middle of the room. Tim sat on the floor near one, watching the glow through slitted eyes. Outside, it was even more quiet than before. Two men shouted at one another, their words inaudible. Tim flinched, but the voices broke into laughter. A third voice told them to shut up. The snow fell soft and slow and large. Mine's gone, Miss Unamuno said, looking at Trumbauer. He nodded. What's gone? Machen asked. Our guides, Thesiger said. We'll have to work alone now. It's very close." The angels abandon us, Simons said. Davies returned, closing the screen door softly behind. Tim closed his eyes. Thesiger was still strong, but he could hear voices as if they were in another room, with all the doors closed. The old man put his hand on the boy's shoulder. They're getting through, aren't they, Timothy?" Yes." Do they care about our presence? Jacobs asked.
Thesiger said he didn't know. His voice was soft but clear, its high notes returning from the walls. I've gone into battle many times, Machen said. Aachen, Inchon, during the Tet. Waiting is the worst time."
Will we see anything? Davies asked.
We don't know, Miss Unamuno said. We don't know much at all." Downwind from Trinity, Jacobs said. Machen shook his head. Mr. Jacobs has a theory about our problem." Trinity, Thesiger said. The first atom bomb explosion ... Alamagordo, New Mexico. 1945. And latertests on animals where the researchers had nervous breakdowns. A whole village of goats and sheep subjected to a blast ... I could feel them for weeks." Feel what? Machen asked. The wanderers. Like little dust-devils, not natural at all. Not like the small, simple soul of an animalyet not unlike. Wherever we have killed in the interests of nuclear weapons research, they have started." Is this all straight? Machen asked. You're not just bullshitting?" Thesiger closed his eyes. Please, Arnold, Miss Unamuno, withdraw and close tight. General, Mr. Simons, turn your recorders on." They're ready, Simons said. It isn't aware of us yet, but it talks to itself. They talk to themselves. The psychlone isn't integrated, not completely, but it behaves with one motive, one will." Where Machen began to ask, but Jacobs shushed him. Thesi
ger lay back in the overstuffed chair, hands gripping the armrests. Moving willfully. Now it knows where it is. It coerces the information. There is a portion not of the whole ... in the mass, but not of it. The foreigners who were killed. Falling rubble killed them, clubs, naked fists. Burned people beat on them. Sticks and bricks and anything handy. Flash burns, under walls. All died, but none in the center of light, in the fireball. The captives know this country. Parts are still familiar. Across the countryside, following roads, railways, just like someone in a light plane without a compass. Unwilling. Many were pilots then, and they're pilots now. Forefront. Showing the way. He paused. Tim reached up and took one of his hands. The contact was almost electric. Before it happens, they try to warn. Name, rank, serial number. Friends will hear. Must hear. They guide it into the towns and cities they knew. They can't do otherwise. Those who die in the cities are sucked up, used, and when these targets are gone, they will provide others. The rage will force them. His voice changed subtly. Thirty-five years to cross the sea, blind, this way and that. No marks on the sea, only boats and tiny islands. The currents cause them pain, but they must cross. Thirty-five years. Then up through Mexico, the pilots recognize the border, and in to the first town. Shimpu." What? Jacobs asked. Divine Wind, Davies said. It's Japanese." Thesiger became rigid. His arm muscles knotted, and Tim winced at the pressure on his hand. Jesus, Trumbauer said, stepping back from the old man in the chair. Miss Unamuno opened her mouth in a silent wail. "Look what they have done to me," Thesiger moaned. This body, my servant, is ash and vapor, leaving only the unvoiced scream. They do not even know me! My pain is nothing to them. My end is not important. My children are flying rags and dust. My spirit's torment is unimagined. As I am damned, so shall they be. The Shimpu shall be felt in their land, and they shall wither, and when all is done, I shall have them." Tim jerked loose and backed away. Jacobs took the boy in his arms and held him. Thesiger stood up like something on wires, jerking this way and that. Jacobs suddenly realized how thin the man was, how frail. His white hair streamed as if a wind was radiating from his body. Incomplete. Shattered. Even together, they aren't whole. The upper ranks are shorn, the lower splintered and cracked. Only the pain, not the dignity. No understanding is left. It is here with nothing but vengeance and no mind. The memory is in fragments, it remembers only the last moments. The buzzing of a mosquito, high overhead, a single aircraft. The light. Bones show like X rays and then flesh is gone and then bones are gone and shadows remain against the walls. And then the walls are gone. A man on a horse, pounded into a crack in the ground like a stake hit by a hammer. The blood fountains and glows in midair and is gone. Children play on a roof and a mile away their toys come to earth. In the castle, the walls are topped with broken glass. The glass catches the light of hell and rays it into the yard. The walls seem to have their own sunrise, on all sides, and the air glows purple above. The men in the yard are smashed by the fists of air. The walls come down. In the purple cloud, faces fly. All the guardians withdraw, all the angels and ancestors and kami leave. Those who die are on their own. They are sucked into the fireball and dismembered, flies with wings plucked, already dead and now killed again. In the middle, a new death is spawned. Days later, the two cities join. They whirl and examine. So many have died, but this cloud of souls is familiar, fragmented. Together they will seek." Miss Unamuno was sobbing silently. Machen was still as stone except for one hand, which was shaking. Trumbauer leaned against a wall, nodding his head. That's it, he said. That's it." Then Thesiger slumped. Jacobs smelled burnt metal. There Feel Tim? The strength was gone. Tim could feel the sudden sweep of probing fingers, hands, eyes. They were all directly above. They knew he was in the house. He had to leave. Outside, soldiers were shouting. While Jacobs and Machen went to help Thesiger, Tim stood beside the door. It was very dark outside, but if they knew he was in the house, then he had to go somewhere else. Maybe Thesiger had taught him something. Maybe he could have his own shield now. A soldier came in through the door and Tim slipped around him, then outside. No one noticed. He's still alive, Machen said, holding Thesiger's wrist. Simons, get the medical team in here. Davies, water and a wet towel. Jacobs looked down on the old man. He looked very fragile, like the body of an incorruptible saint, preserved in the earth for years. Then Jacobs felt the pressure himself. It was like a prickly blanket, demanding some foul action. He tried to subdue it. Tim stood on the porch, watching the soldiers across the grass, watching the snow fall. The big flakes clung to his skin and melted. His feet crunched the frozen grass. His nose tickled and smelled the cold. He looked up. Through and around the clouds, faces moved. His father and mother were there, but he couldn't see them clearly. He passed the harvester on the way to the barn. In the barn, the empty stalls and concrete floor were vague squares of light and dark. Sparkles moved in the dark. A circle of hands formed above the center aisle, glowing green. These were the fringes. There were no faces here. He could hide and perhaps not be noticed. He tried out the shield Join And hid in a stall, shivering. The wind rose outside. In the house, the candles dimmed. Jacobs held a towel on Thesiger's forehead while the doctor checked blood pressure, pulse, and reflexes. Simons suddenly lifted his head and asked, Where's the boy? He looked in the kitchen and called up the stairs. Did anyone see him? They all shook their heads. Damn! He ran across the front porch, calling for Tim. Jacobs stood. Arnold, can you feel anything?" I'm... Trumbauer shook his head. I'm shut. I don't dare open up now. In the yard, a man screamed. Not even a crack?" Trumbauer was shaking. Jacobs turned to the woman. And you?" It's here. Not completely. An arm, a fringe, a tentacle. I'm closed but I know that." Is Thesiger dying?" No, Trumbauer said. We would see a change." I'm going to help look for the boy, Jacobs said. Tim huddled closer into the corner. It wasn't working. The faces were in the air over the center aisle now, circles of faces, wheels without hubs. You already got my town, he said aloud. Go away!"
Unto the generations Then Tim knew it was over for him. In his talks with Thesiger, there had always been left open the possibility that something would fail and he would be where he was now. The old man had never deluded him about it. Even in Salt Lake City, when he had wanted to return to Lorobu, he had considered meeting the faces and voices again, up close, and dying. He looked down and saw the blood glowing on his hands. The inner glow was red, but the outer halo was becoming green. He was going to be Carrying the Fire soon. He could feel the voices gathering around the barn. He bolted from the stall and ran for the ladder on the far end. Maybe the others would get here and stop him, lock him up. If they didn't, it would happen all over again. The memories were coming back sharp now and anything was better. He grabbed the ladder with his hands and wondered they didn't leave stains on the rungs. Somewhere, he knew, his parents would exult for him, but in the open, where the others could see, they told him to Join He reached the top and crawled over the lip of the bare loft. Piles of burnt beef were laid along the floorno, that couldn't be right. They weren't beef. He shut his eyes and screamed. I'm not a grownup! I don't know anything about this! Leave me alone, please, leave me be!" Join His parents were weeping. He could feel them. The others were so full now, so busy handling the captives, that some could weep and not be kept in line. But their strength was too much even still. Beyond the weeping, none could deviate. Hands tried to grip him but he broke loose. In one corner of the stall, he heard derisive voices and saw Cynthia and Michael, naked, standing as though for a portrait, unmercifully illuminated. This angered him so much he howled. Let them alone! Leave all of us alone!" For a moment, something happened, a reprieve. The faces vanished. He almost fell over. The wind outside was still strong, but the concentration was not on him. The hands were gone but they would be back. He only had a few seconds. In the house, a long, long time ago, they had gotten to him and he had picked up the knives like all the others. That could never happen again. It was a very grown-up decision to make. I am, right now, grown up, he told himself. I have control and I'm not a little kid." The loft was
twenty feet above the concrete. It was a very big responsibility. Maybe God would understand. He leaned into the air and felt his feet rise free. In the barn door, Simons ran with arms held out, but he was too late.
Thesiger jerked up. Trumbauer and the doctor helped him sit with his back against the chair. Jacobs opened the front door and came inside, letting the wind howl through the living room. Have you got a pistol? the old man asked Machen. No, Machen said. Then a knife." No." Doctordo you have poison?"
Psychlone The doctor shook his head. I can't administer anythingnot like that. Why? You want us to" The boy is out. All the guardians are gone, all the angels gone." Please settle back, sir. I have something here..." No sedative. I must not sleep. I promised to protect him." Tim's dead, Jacobs said. The doctor prepared his syringe. Thesiger looked at Machen. You have all you need, he said, and God forgive us all. He closed his eyes. On the floor next to him, the doctor's machines began to beep.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
The convoy of trucks had been stalled for the night five miles outside Dayton. A steady stream of automobiles blocked both inbound and outbound lanes, ignoring direction signs. Wrecks littered the sides of the roads. National Guardsmen were being airlifted into the center of town from Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, but they weren't connected with Silent Night. A special helicopter was coming, Colonel Silvera said. A small truckstop cafe and service station squatted empty less than a hundred yards from where the convoy had pulled off the road. Fowler examined it closely, and found what he was looking fora pay phone. He climbed down from the van, not looking at Prohaska or Burnford, and approached Silvera. The Colonel was talking to a cluster of drivers. Fowler waited until he was noticed, then spoke up. I have to make another call or my fiancis going to be worried, he said. I told her I'd check in frequently." Silvera sighed. Jackson, are the field telephones still out?" Yessir. All communications are tied up." There's a pay phone booth at that diner, Fowler suggested. Please be circumspect, Mr. Fowler. Jackson, go with him and see he doesn't get hurt." I'll need change, lots of it, Fowler said. I only have a dollar and a half. It's to California." Silvera jingled his pockets and found another dollar in change. Jackson came up with fifty cents. It'll Psychlone have to be brief, Silvera said. Fowler nodded.