by Bryan Davis
“Yeah, but — ”
“Duck!” Tony pushed Molly’s head down. The gun fired again. The window on Tony’s side shattered, sending glass flying. The stalker shifted his aim toward the van and shot a third time.
“Arrgh!” Nathan’s mother dropped to her back, clutching her wrist. Blood poured from her left palm and streamed down her arm.
“Mom!” Nathan threw himself down beside her.
“Mrs. Shepherd!” Daryl called from the front. “Are you all right?”
Grimacing, Nathan’s mother pressed her fingers against a tear in the side of her hand and called out, “It’s just a flesh wound.”
“This is no time to do a Monty Python routine!” Daryl searched the area around her seat. “Do we have a real first-aid kit anywhere?”
While Daryl searched frantically, Nathan glanced at the scene behind him. The stalker aimed the gun again, this time at Tony. Amber set one foot on the truck’s side wall and leaped for the police car. She seemed to float across the gap, her dress fanning out as she stretched toward the roof. Landing feet first, she spun 180 degrees on her toes, then slipped and fell to her belly, latching on to the window frame just in time to keep from sliding off the passenger side. While holding the frame with one hand, she grabbed the stalker’s wrist with the other. His fingers straightened into rigid lines, and the gun clattered to the road.
The car decelerated and dropped back. Still keeping his sonic gun trained on the other officer, Gunther slowed to stay close.
As Amber rose to her feet, she jerked the stalker out through the window and planted the tall, thin man upright on the roof. The driverless car rolled on, swaying from side to side, but not enough to knock the glowing supplicant off her feet. She radiated bright yellow streams of light as the stalker dropped to his knees and folded his hands as if begging.
Gunther eased the van to a stop, allowing the trailing car to press against his bumper until it stopped as well. The other police car roared away.
Amber set a palm on top of her captive’s white hair. As she drilled her stare directly into his eyes, she sang a high-pitched note. His jaw dropped open. His eyes bulged. Then his cheeks sank and his body withered, his shirt slipping off his shoulders as he seemed to age at high speed.
Nathan got up and leaned out the back hatch. “Amber! No!”
She turned toward Nathan, her eyes ablaze in yellow. The stalker heaved in rapid, shallow breaths, spitting out short, pathetic vowel sounds.
“Spare me, O mighty supplicant,” Kelly translated as she leaned out with Nathan. “Forgive me of my many transgressions against you.”
Amber moved her hand from his head, sweeping a shower of white hair to the roof of the car. Now smiling, she reached for his hand and sang a burst of notes.
“Will you dance with me?” Kelly said, again translating. “I will provide the music.”
With his hands still folded and his chest heaving, the stalker forced out a halting lament. Kelly gave each note its meaning the moment it passed his lips.
“I beg you, holy one. Spare me, and I will fight against my brethren.” His eyes wide within his sunken face, his voice shook wildly. “But I cannot dance with you. One such as I could never be your partner in dance.”
She gazed down at him, love bathing her expression as she crooned a musical reply.
This time Kelly swallowed hard before she translated. “You have always had the ability to dance with me, and I will gladly be your partner, but if you refuse, I will have to kill you.”
The stalker closed his eyes and wailed. Again, Amber responded, this time with a lengthy reply. Nathan looked to Kelly for the meaning, but she just shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes.
Amber laid her hand on the stalker’s head again and reprised her song. His limbs stiffened. His clothes dropped away; lines now etched his skin, making a patchwork of decaying flesh until it flaked away from his skeleton-like body. Soon, he crumbled into a heap of dust.
As a breeze carried the dust away, Amber let her shoulders sag. She watched the pile dwindle for a moment before walking down the windshield and jumping to the pavement.
Kelly clutched Nathan’s hand. “What . . .” She swallowed hard again. “What is she?”
“I wish I knew,” Nathan replied, keeping his voice low. “We saw that the stalkers feared the supplicants. Now we know why.”
Daryl let out a long whistle. “I’ll tell you one thing. If Amber asks me to dance, I’ll be ready to rumba.”
Amber walked toward the truck, head down, a tear tracking down her cheek. Inside, Molly rolled up the window and punched the door lock, her eyes wide with alarm. Amber halted.
Tony’s voice pierced the silence. Nathan lifted the cell phone to his ear, keeping his stare on Amber. “Sorry, Tony. I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”
“Molly’s scared to death.” His voice was low and shaky. “Can Amber ride with you?”
Nathan waved at her. “Hop in the van,” he said, speaking through the open hatch. “There’s plenty of room.”
Kelly opened the side door. “I’ll get Molly calmed down. I know what usually worked with my mother.” She jumped out and hurried toward the truck, pointing at the van as she passed by Amber. With a smile and a wink, Kelly said, “Keep an eye on Nathan for me while I’m gone.”
The shining supplicant nodded and shuffled toward the door.
Nathan helped his mother up and guided her to the bench seat. “How’s your hand?”
After sliding all the way to the side window, she peeled her bloody fingers away from her ripped hand. The pressure had temporarily closed a gash an inch or two below her little finger, but blood still trickled. “It’s not too bad, but it looks like neither one of us will be able to play for a while.”
Nathan tried to rip his sweatshirt sleeve, but it was too strong. “Got a knife, Gunther?”
“Yep. It ain’t much, but it’s sharp.”
A small pocketknife landed in Nathan’s lap. While he sliced his sleeve, Amber climbed into the van, her blonde hair in a frenzy. Nathan slid closer to his mother to make room. What should he say to Amber? What could he say? Sure, that stalker was out to get them, but did she have to kill him? And he even begged for mercy before she disintegrated his body.
As she settled onto the seat, he cleared his throat. “Uh . . . I see why those other two stalkers took off like that.”
She turned toward him. The fire in her eyes had vanished. “Yes.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “They were surely frightened.”
After Nathan cut a wide strip from his sleeve and wrapped his mother’s hand, Gunther put the van into gear and eased ahead, his acceleration slow. He and Daryl kept their gazes forward, saying nothing.
Nathan’s mother broke the silence. “I don’t understand. Why did you insist that he dance with you?”
Amber looked at the truck behind them. “Did the interpreter not tell you? I told the stalker, though he already knew. I explained my actions for your benefit.”
“I guess she thought it wasn’t important,” Nathan said.
“Not important?” Amber glanced back again, then took Nathan’s hand. “The explanation is vital, especially for Kelly’s sake. You see, the three Earths once danced together in a cosmic waltz, in perfect balance and harmony. When dissonance shattered the harmonic structure, the worlds bent away from the dance and into a collision course. Playing the violin in Sarah’s Womb will restore the balance, but since you were unable to finish the song, only one world broke free from the converging path. But Earth Red now has no dance partner. It spins alone and is suffering, because it cannot comprehend the music.”
“What exactly is Sarah’s Womb?” Nathan asked. “And what does spinning alone do to Earth Red?”
She formed her hand into a loose fist and slowly expanded her fingers. “Sarah is the great emptiness, the void that pushes the worlds apart, like a barren womb that is filled with heartache.”
“So is it a buffer?” D
aryl asked. “Like insulation?”
“In a manner of speaking. Yet she offers more than insulation. Just as when the biblical Sarah’s womb was filled with a child of promise, when the cosmic Sarah is filled with perfect song, she gives birth to harmony that pushes the worlds into their proper paths, the paths they must follow to stay away from destruction.”
“If it’s song Sarah wants,” Nathan’s mother said, “why did Scarlet’s sacrifice make any difference at all?”
“We supplicants represent the elements that make up perfect music. Although we all have the gift of song, Cerulean is the master of musical notes, Scarlet is the mistress of words, the lyrics of the psalms, and I” — Amber set a finger on her chest — “I am the mistress of dance. When Scarlet fell into the void, Sarah was filled with only part of what makes for perfect song. Perhaps Earth Red is safe from interfinity’s reach, but with no dance partner she labors in toil.”
Daryl slid to the edge of her seat. “So that must be why everyone is messed up on Earth Red. You know how dreams kind of fool you sometimes? You think you’re awake, but you’re not quite sure?”
“Yeah,” Nathan said. “It’s only when you’re really awake that you know for sure that you aren’t dreaming.”
“Exactly. But Dr. Gordon says on Earth Red, they’re never sure, even when they’re awake. When they get out of bed, it feels like they woke up from a dream inside a dream, and they’re still dreaming, or maybe they just had a dream inside a dream inside a dream. Dr. Gordon says it nearly drives you crazy, and you’re afraid to really go to sleep, because it feels like you might drop into a lower level of sleep, and you’ll have to add another awakening to get to full wakefulness.” She set a finger near her temple and drew fast circles. “They’re all going nuts.”
“Their world needs to dance,” Amber said. “It restores balance and brings light to darkness. If that stalker had agreed to dance with me, he would have come into harmony with my purpose.”
As Nathan looked out the rear hatch, the image of the pleading stalker came back to his mind. “But he said he couldn’t. He seemed to think he wasn’t worthy.”
She nodded sadly. “That is the way of the faithless. Whenever someone dances with another, he is saying that he agrees with every aspect of his partner’s purpose — the partner’s beliefs and the principles by which he or she lives. When dancing, the partners move with each other step by step, symbolizing that they will never stray from one another in thought, word, or deed, not even for a moment.
“Most of the stalkers have no faith that such a perfect dance is even possible, and they think that anyone who would even try to dance with a supplicant will be accursed. Yet they do not realize that a supplicant’s song provides the music that guides every step, empowering them to perform the very dance they fear.”
Nathan looked at his mother and Daryl in turn. Each one stared at him, as if waiting for him to ask more questions. Yet, there really was only one more question on his mind. “How much of that explanation did Kelly hear?”
“I had only a little time to explain, but she heard that dance is the symbol of submitting to the greater purpose, a humbling of ourselves in order to move in step with the greater music.”
“So do both dancers humble themselves?” Nathan asked.
Amber gazed at him, her eyes bright, though she spoke in a somber tone. “If the music is greater than that of both partners, each one gives up his own path to follow the music’s universal call.”
Nathan gave her a nod, but he was glad when the cell phone in his lap chimed, giving him an excuse to turn away from those eyes. He handed it to Gunther and settled back in his seat.
“Hello,” Gunther said. “Yeah, Tony. I think there’s a station in a couple miles. We can stop.”
Nathan leaned toward his mother. Heat from Amber’s body radiated into his, sending mixed sensations; both the soothing warmth of a protective friend and the chilling ice of the unknown. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She stared straight ahead, her lovely face still exuding a golden glow. As he let his gaze linger on her gently curving throat, a placid hum emanated from within her, a melody that was all too familiar — “Foundation’s Key,” the piece he had tried to play on the strings that spanned Sarah’s Womb. The tune fit her perfectly — simple, yet powerful . . . lovely, yet frightening.
Yes, this woman was a mystery, a deep, dark mystery.
When they stopped for gas, Kelly hurried to the van and opened the door. “Amber,” she said, “would you be willing to switch again? Molly wants you to ride with her now. She’s sorry for being so scared.”
Amber’s smile seemed to melt her somber mood away. “Very well. I will be glad to.”
As soon as Amber climbed out, Kelly jumped in and scooted close to Nathan. “This is all so cool,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Tony and Molly are like lovebirds right now. He’s sweet talking her, and she’s eating it up.”
“Yeah,” Nathan said, “that is cool.”
Letting out a sigh, she slid her hand into his, intertwined their fingers, and leaned against his shoulder. He tensed his muscles and glanced at his mother, but she just smiled and took his other hand, weaving her fingers into his in similar fashion.
Nathan sighed, content. There was no doubt about it. Dancing in harmony was very cool.
After a moment or two, a pang of doubt pierced his reverie.
As if following the path of a sweeping flood, Francesca Yellow’s voice pushed into his mind, the last words she spoke before returning to her world. Just be sure to tell Kelly why Nathan Shepherd is who he is. Remember, your talents are a gift, not a birthright.
Soon, her voice passed away in ever quieter echoes. The scent of roses pushed into his nostrils, and a bittersweet film coated his tongue, a sign that Scarlet’s presence had again emerged. From where, he had no clue. But no doubt her eloquent words would follow.
Seconds later, a melody drifted across his mind as if played on the strings of a vibrant violin. Scarlet’s voice, soft as a whisper at first, rose to join the song, rising and falling with the cadence of each lilting phrase.
So now I leave a gift sublime,
The poet’s flair for words and rhyme;
A smell, a taste, you’ll know I’m near;
Unbidden words will soon appear.
And then another gift I’ll bring
To add to hymns your heart will sing;
For songs of love deserve reply,
A dance that lasts until you die.
A day will come when love mature
Will take the hand of one made pure
In everlasting song and dance,
A knight, a lady, sweet romance.
The words seemed to hang in the air. Nathan breathed in the song, freshening the flowery aroma. Kelly had sung that poem while they returned from Sarah’s Womb, just moments after he had thrown Scarlet’s dead body into the pit. Now it revived the painful truth that so much still separated Kelly from him . . . too much.
He glanced at her. What had she thought of the words while she sang them? She must have known what the everlasting dance implied, but did she understand all that Amber had explained? Or did she know only what dance symbolized, that as they listened to the music from on high, they had to play in harmony, each with a unique instrument, guided by the conductor’s baton as they submitted to a holy score?
And now she had taken his hand. What did that gesture mean to her? Did she want to dance with him? If so, what would it mean to her? Was she hoping to join him in everything he held dear? Even his faith?
He closed his eyes. It wasn’t the right time to ask questions.
She had offered a touch of friendship, so he just had to relax and enjoy it. The time to talk it all out would surely come later.
A gentle squeeze tightened his fingers from Kelly’s side. He opened his eyes, meeting her piercing gaze.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
Her voice was like a haunting melody �
�� reaching, probing. Her gift had already interpreted a thousand silent messages, and now she sought out one he had hidden for far too long, though he couldn’t explain why.
“Yeah,” he finally replied. “Something’s wrong.”
She tilted her head, her eyebrows lifting. “Well, what is it?”
“Ask me later.” He settled back in his seat again and closed his eyes. He had to escape her penetrating stare. “When we’re alone.”
She slipped her fingers away from his. “I’ll wait.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “As long as it takes.”
Gunther maintained a steady speed and frequently checked his rearview mirror, apparently watching Tony’s progress and keeping watch for anyone else who might be following. After that brush with the zone police, there was no telling when or if the two stalkers in the first car might pick up their trail again, maybe with reinforcements.
After sporadic conversation about recent events, including Mictar’s Lucifer machine and how he would probably get it re-energized, they pulled into the parking lot of the observatory.
Nathan gazed out the window. As expected, it looked exactly like the observatories on Earths Red and Blue, including bronze block letters on the front brick wall that spelled out “Interfinity Labs.” The company apparently never took the name StarCast as it had on Red and Blue. Since Simon Yellow already knew what the observatory would become and how to contact Blue and Red, he probably persuaded the Dr. Gordon of this world to bypass the original moniker.
Gunther pulled into a space in the first row of the nearly empty lot, and Tony parked his pickup alongside. Daryl jumped out first, followed by Kelly, Nathan, and his mother. They hurried around the van and joined Amber and Gunther, who were watching Molly gently lift baby Kelly from her place in the backseat.
Now wearing a gray sweater over her yellow dress, Amber leaned close to Nathan. “Tony allowed me to use his outer garment, but I have no need of it. Harmony has been restored.”
“I heard. That’s great news.” Nathan looked up. With the sun shining through scattered clouds, the temperature had climbed quite a bit. The sky looked strange, more purple than blue, and hints of the atmospheric holes he had seen on Earth Blue speckled the canopy.
