by Bryan Davis
Amber wrinkled her nose. “Is this a latrine? It smells of human waste.”
“It’s called a sports bar.” Nathan waved them inside and closed the door. “But you’re right. It stinks in here.”
“This is a new experience.” She looked all around, her eyes unblinking in the smoke-filled room. “I don’t think my beloved has ever been to a place like this.”
“If you mean Francesca Yellow, you’re probably right.” Nathan scanned the area, letting his gaze rush past ten or so unfamiliar faces, mostly male, until he spotted Tony sitting on a stool with his back to the bar, his long legs reaching the floor.
Clutching a sweating beer bottle, Tony watched a television mounted on a side wall. A cheer erupted from the speaker, and Tony’s bellow followed.
“All right! Three pointer!”
Nathan strode toward him, waving a hand. “Tony! It’s me, Nathan.”
Tony swiveled his way, and a smile spread across his face. “Future Boy! Glad to see you again.” He took a swig from his bottle. “I’d offer you a beer, but you don’t look old enough to drink.”
“I’m not.” As Kelly and Amber joined him, Nathan pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “We picked up your wife. She was standing out in the snow.”
Tony jumped down from the stool. “In the snow!”
“Yeah. She was — ”
A roar broke out from several of the men. A few pointed at a screen on the opposite side of the room while one raised both fists into the air.
Nathan winced at the sound. “What are they so excited about? Haven’t they already dreamed about who was going to win?”
“Things have changed.” Tony guided Nathan toward the exit while Amber and Kelly followed. “Did I ever mention Flash, a friend of mine?”
“Yeah.” Nathan paused at the door. “You said I looked like him.”
“Well, he’s got some kind of spiritual connection going on. You know, spooky stuff like in the movies. Anyway, he figured out how to stop the next-day dreaming, and now only travelers get a hint of what’s going on, and they’re not always right. It’s helped a lot. Things are getting back to normal.”
The door burst open, and Daryl bustled in, shaking snow out of her hair. “The ice planet Hoth’s got nothing on this place.”
“Something wrong?” Kelly asked.
Daryl gestured toward the door with her thumb. “Molly’s getting all worked up about Tony leaving her out in the cold, and baby Kelly’s got a good temper tantrum going so Molly’s in no mood to be mollified.”
Tony pointed at her. “Mollify Molly. That’s a good one.”
“Since I’m the ‘former flame,’ ” Daryl said, giving Tony an icy stare, “I took the brunt of her wrath.”
He shrugged. “She loves to shop, so I decided to give her some time while I caught part of the game.”
“Well,” Daryl continued, “to quote Mad Molly” — she pinched her voice into a scratchy, witchlike tone — “ ‘I can’t believe he would leave me with Kelly for so long! He knows I can’t handle her when she gets like this.’ ”
Tony scowled, his cheeks turning red. He grabbed a coat from a nearby table and shoved his arms through the sleeves. “I’ll talk to her.”
He jerked open the door and stomped down the stairs to the snowy sidewalk. The snowfall had eased up, leaving only a few straggling snowflakes swirling here and there.
Nathan followed close behind, motioning for the others to keep up. No matter what happened with Tony and Molly, they had to hurry. Two worlds needed saving, and the zone police, whatever they were, might find them at any minute.
Amber rushed ahead and grasped Tony’s arm. “There is disharmony in your spirit,” she said as she shivered in the cold breeze. “Wait for the music to balance before you speak.”
Tony stared at her, his eyes bulging. “Who’s the glowing girl?” he asked, looking back at Nathan. “One of your friends from the future?”
“Not exactly. She’s — ”
“She’s right.” Kelly stepped forward and nodded toward the van parked only a dozen or so paces away. “Molly’s probably in no mood to hear how you wanted to let her shop. All she knows is that she was trapped in a snowstorm with a crying baby while you were at a bar watching basketball.”
Tony eyed the van. “So what do I tell her?”
Kelly looked at Nathan, Daryl, and Amber, then gazed into Tony’s eyes. “Tell her you’re sorry. Tell her you won’t let it happen again.” With snowflakes gathering on her eyelashes, tears began streaming down her cheeks as she continued in a trembling voice. “Tell her it was a big mistake and that you love her with all your heart, that you’ll never let sports come between you and her ever again, and that you’ll help her learn to deal with a crying little girl who needs both her mother and her father very, very much.”
Tony raised his brow, his eyes darting from Kelly to Amber to Nathan, then back to Kelly again. “I can do that.”
Amber caressed Tony’s shoulder. “Dance with her music, and she will be able to hear yours. Only then can harmony overcome discord.”
“Dance with her?” Tony looked at Amber’s trembling hand for a moment, then sighed. “I think I know what you mean.”
“Tell you what,” Nathan said. “Why don’t you and Molly ride in your truck and follow us to the Interfinity Labs observatory? When we get there I’ll explain everything about us coming from the future. And I’ll tell you more about those mirrors in the back of your truck.”
Tony glanced at the pickup. “You seem to know about everything, don’t you?”
“Being from the future has its advantages.”
Tony touched a cell phone on his belt. “Can Flash get in on this? He’s in town, and he’s been talking about this stuff for weeks.”
“Sure. Call him and ask him to meet us at Interfinity Labs with Francesca. I’m sure he can find it.”
“Interfinity Labs. Gotcha.”
Nathan pointed at Tony’s phone. “Can I get your number in case I need to call you?”
“Sure thing.” Tony pulled a wallet from his back pocket and fished out a business card. “It says ‘Office Phone,’ but that’s my cell.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I see that?” Daryl asked.
“The card?” Nathan gave it to her. “Sure.”
Daryl glanced at the information and handed it back to him.
“I like to memorize numbers.”
“That’s all the time you needed?”
“Sure.” She gave him a wink. “And I love pi. I have it memorized to a thousand places.”
“I think I’ll stick to cherry pie.” Nathan stuffed the card into his pocket. “Stay close, Tony. It could be tough to follow in this weather.”
“Not a problem. I have four-wheel drive.” Tony strode to the van and opened the side door. He helped Molly step down to the sidewalk, careful to keep one of his large hands under baby Kelly. Arching over Molly and whispering into her ear, he guided her across the slippery sidewalk. Her face, tight and tense at first, relaxed as they approached the truck.
Nathan opened the van’s front door for Daryl, then stood by the back with his hand out for Kelly. “Let’s get going. It sounds like my Earth Yellow father’s been busy keeping this world from going crazy, but we still have a lot to do.”
“I will go with Tony and Molly,” Amber said, touching Nathan’s arm. “Their music is not yet fully in harmony.”
Nathan shrugged. “Okay. It looked like there was room in the front for three.”
Amber flashed a smile. “The closer she sits to him, the better for the blending of their music.”
Once everyone was seated — Daryl in front and Nathan’s mother, Nathan, and Kelly in the back — Gunther shifted into gear and drove away, keeping his eye on the rearview mirror. “Tony’s right behind us, and he’s already on his cell phone.”
“Perfect,” Nathan said. “Now we can talk about what’s going on.”
His mother touched his
knee. “I heard Tony mention Flash. That’s your father . . . I mean . . . well, you know what I mean.”
“I know. We’re hoping he’ll come to the observatory. Apparently he’s put a stop to the next-day dreaming, at least for a lot of people, so he must have a handle on what’s going on.” Nathan looked at Gunther. “Tony says pretty much only travelers have dreams now. I guess we should be grateful you’re one of them.”
“I’m just glad the weather kept the zone police from hunting us down.” Gunther turned onto a narrow back road and sped up, taking advantage of the lack of traffic as a strangely warm sun broke through the clouds. “They caught me once and did some tests to determine that I’m a traveler.” He tapped the back of his skull. “They implanted this tracking device, and if I go outside of my zone it sounds an alarm somewhere. If that happens, these police dressed in army fatigues swoop in like a SWAT team in camo. If they catch a wayward traveler, they have the authority to shoot him on the spot, but usually they just use torture to get him in line. First, they zap you with these sonic rods, then they — ”
“Sonic rods?” Nathan spread his hands two feet apart. “Are they this long, as thick as a policeman’s nightstick, and make a sound that’ll split your skull?”
“That’s them. How did you know?”
Nathan arched his back, recalling the pain he’d once received from a paralyzing rod. “I got zapped by one.”
“Hurts like crazy, doesn’t it? Anyway, if you’re a traveler who hasn’t been implanted, they fingerprint you, register you as a traveler, and send you to a deprogramming camp where they do the surgery. And it’s a particularly nasty deal. The chip is booby-trapped with a tiny bomb. If I got my own surgeon to take it out, it could go off, and my brains would be scrambled eggs.”
“Whoa!” Nathan said. “That’s awful!”
“Yeah, not so good for travelers, but everyone else is doing a lot better. Solomon and Francesca worked with the two Dr. Simons to cook up this megacool way to stop the dreams, and just about everyone is participating. People are clueless about the existence of other worlds, but since they’re tired of knowing the future, and since it keeps Mictar from sneaking in and dream-snatching their souls, they’re going along with Solomon’s plan.
“So now Zelda’s getting desperate. She had enough entrenched influence to hang on to her power, but she’s losing her grip. Her henchmen aren’t so quick to obey her commands, and even travelers like me are getting bolder. Without Mictar literally scaring people to death, she’ll be history in no time.”
“Don’t be surprised if Mictar makes a comeback,” Nathan said. “He had a little run-in with a mirror, so that might have kept him away for a while.”
“I heard about that. Nice going. I wouldn’t mind taking a mirror to that creep myself.” Gunther glanced over his shoulder and gestured at a duffle bag lying on the floor. “By the way, I thought you guys might be hungry, so I brought some crackers and stuff. Help yourselves.”
Nathan rummaged through the bag and passed around the food. As he handed Daryl an apple, he asked, “So what’s going on back home?”
Daryl planted an elbow on her armrest. “Before I lost contact with Dr. Gordon, he said news reports were buzzing about sound waves getting bent out of shape. It started with mid-range musical notes. If someone played a middle C on a piano, it didn’t sound right, like the frequency got warped in the air. Then it spread to all sorts of sounds, and finally it killed analog radio and TV broadcasts. At least that’s what Dr. Gordon thinks, since he couldn’t get any reception.”
“And then you got cut off from him.”
“Yep. Just before it happened, I asked Dr. Gordon to call my father to let him know I’m all right, but I’m not sure he understood. Even his voice sounded weird, like he was doing whale-speak — you know, long, moaning notes, like Dory when she talked to the whale in Finding Nemo. I suggested that he switch to digital encoding, but I don’t think he heard me.”
“So Earth Red people probably can’t talk to each other.”
“That’s my take, unless they all learn whale-speak.”
Nathan blew out a sigh. It was like the Tower of Babel all over again. The world would be in chaos soon, if it wasn’t already.
He turned toward Kelly, but she showed no sign of concern. Her mind seemed far away, and a sweet smile made her face seem to glow. He smiled back. No doubt defusing the bomb, as she had put it, gave her reason to celebrate. Maybe Kelly Yellow would have a better life than she’d had.
After they drove out of the city and onto a narrow country lane, Gunther glanced back and forth between the mirror and the road. “We’ve got trouble.”
4
TO DANCE OR DIE
Daryl turned around and looked out the back window. “Zone police?”
“Looks like we picked up two of them,” Gunther said.
Nathan swiveled in his seat. A pair of red cars with gold racing stripes and flashing lights roared up from behind, splashing through the fast-melting snow. One blared a horn as it passed Tony’s pickup and pulled within a few feet of Gunther’s bumper.
“What’re you going to do?” Nathan asked.
Gunther pressed the gas pedal, making his engine whine. “I can’t outrun them, not in this hay baler, but I’m not about to get shot or stunned by those sonic rods.” He nodded toward the back. “Open the hatch. I have a surprise for them.”
While Nathan climbed toward the rear, Gunther continued. “Daryl, look under your seat and get the first-aid kit.”
Daryl bent over. “For what? To bandage your brain when it explodes?”
Nathan opened the rear hatch, swinging it out and up, and hustled back to his seat.
“It’s a fake kit,” Gunther said. “I keep a gun inside.”
“You’re going to shoot them from the driver’s seat?” Daryl slid out a white metal box, withdrew a short, fat-barreled pistol, and squinted at it doubtfully. “You’d be better off with a good blaster at your side, kid.”
Gunther took it from her. “It’s a sound-wave gun Solomon and I invented. It neutralizes a sonic rod, but since there are two zone cops, I can’t stop them both if they use different frequencies.”
Nathan looked back again. One of the police cars shifted to the left lane and eased closer, its lights flashing and siren blaring as it pulled up to their side. The other car drew so close behind the van, the driver’s gaunt face and pale complexion became clear.
“It’s a stalker!” He glanced at the car to their side. That driver and a man in the passenger seat also looked just like stalkers from the misty world.
The window of the car to their left zipped down. The passenger, his lips thin and firm, pointed a sonic rod at Gunther. A blue light flashed on at the tip, and an ear-piercing shriek ripped across the rushing air and into the van.
Gunther cringed. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he pointed his gun at the pale-faced officer and pulled the trigger. A loud bass tone roared from the barrel. As it melded with the sonic rod’s wall of sound, the combined noise shook the van, rattling the frame, but the painful shock waves no longer scrambled their brains.
Another shriek blasted through the open hatch, higher-pitched and louder. Nathan clapped his hands over his ears. His mother and Kelly did the same, while Gunther kept his gun trained on the first officer, his jaw trembling as he grunted through his words. “Have to slow down before this tin can breaks into pieces!”
“Want me to close the hatch?” Nathan asked.
“Not yet. I might have to aim back and forth between these two and hope for the best.”
The van slowed to thirty miles per hour. Tony’s truck and the two stalker vehicles matched its pace, maintaining their positions at the side and rear.
“Call Amber!” Kelly shouted. “Maybe she can neutralize the other rod!”
Daryl reached over and unclipped the phone from Gunther’s belt while Nathan fumbled in his pocket for Tony’s business card. “Don’t bother,” she said. “I know it.”
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With the van shaking so hard his teeth ached, Nathan watched Daryl punch the numbers in from memory. With her own teeth clenched, she held the phone to her ear and waited. Nathan looked back again. Tony had pulled his pickup alongside the squad car trailing Gunther’s van, and all three front-seat passengers came into clear view. Amber’s expression was serene, but Molly and Tony both looked tense as Tony pressed the phone against his cheek.
“Tony!” Daryl shouted. “Ask Amber if she can cancel the other rod.”
Lowering the phone for a moment, Tony turned to Molly and Amber, moving his lips while keeping a tight grip on the wheel. Two seconds later, Amber’s head emerged from the passenger window, her bright yellow hair whipping in the wind.
“She has to do what?” Daryl yelled. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“What?” Nathan asked.
Daryl pulled the phone away from her ear and looked back. “Sounds like she’s going to do an Indiana Jones!”
Nathan’s mother and Kelly crawled into the cargo area with Nathan and stared at the pickup. Amber, the sleeves of her dress beating against her arms, climbed out the window. She sat on the frame for a moment, then stretched her arms over the roof and grasped the back edge. She pushed up to her feet, and, with the grace and power of an Olympic gymnast, swung her legs to the top of the bed cover. The officer, still aiming his sonic rod at the van, stared at her, his eyes wide.
Now standing, Amber raised her hands. As her hair blew across her face, she took in a breath and sang a note as low and loud as a ship’s foghorn. Like a battering ram, her song plunged into the rod’s wall of sound, counteracting the horrible noise.
The officer withdrew his sonic rod and extended a pistol, pointing it at Amber. His hand shaking, he fired a shot. With a deft turn, Amber angled her body to the side, dodging the bullet.
Nathan grabbed the cell phone. “Tony! Back off! The stalker’s shooting at Amber!”
“And leave you to face the zone police?” Tony shouted. “No way! Besides, she’s got it under control.”
