FSF, October 2007

by Spilogale Authors

  "At least put her in there first and lock the doors,” Granpa said. “You don't know her like I do, Carl."

  The Canon nodded. “All right, Lexi, up you go.” The man called Jared swung to the ground, picked her up like a sack of flour, and boosted her onto the helicopter behind the pilot. He climbed in after her and opened a clasp knife, and Lexi's hands were free.

  Numb as they were, if she'd still been on the ground she'd have been off like a streak of lightning, Granpa was right. Vividly she saw herself squirm into a hidey-hole in the rocks and crouch low while they lumbered past, kicking at the scrub oak, failing to find her. Later she would tear strips from the dress to wrap and tie around her feet, make a little shelter, stay cleverly hidden until Jaime or Pam could spring into action. There were serviceberries in the mountains this time of year, and plenty of water. She had perfect faith that eventually Pam would save her. All she would have to do would be not get caught until that happened.

  But it was all useless; she was sealed inside the helicopter and the pilot was making the rotors roar.

  * * * *

  Aboard the bullet train from L.A. to Las Vegas and Salt Lake, Pam sat at a table in the concessions car, sipping cider and alternately fretting and scheming. The Nevada desert slipped drearily past her window.

  If Lexi was alone in the mountains, she had to be found at once. If the Ephremites were holding her—and this seemed likelier—there was no need to be concerned about her physical safety; but the Church would work on her to renounce the Gaians, and otherwise try to guilt-trip her back into the fold, which they would consider a great PR coup if they could bring it off.

  Fiercely Pam determined not to let Lexi be put through deprogramming. She intended to find her fast, with Humphrey's help if necessary. And from now on, however often she would have to encounter the odious RoLayne, Pam intended to play a more active role in Lexi's life. The world as they knew it might be on the verge of changing for everybody, but this one child was not going to be forced to live in constant fear of having her private world turned inside out like a sock if Pam could help it.

  As if activated by these thoughts, the TV screen above the forward door of the car crackle-flickered to life—and Pam gasped and half-rose, for there stood Lexi herself, in her Kate dress and sun bonnet and bare feet, arms folded across her chest, looking proud and defiant despite her streaky makeup. As Pam sank back in her seat, a news announcer began reading a report: “CBC-TV has learned that Alexis Allred, eleven-year-old star of the popular television series A Thousand Miles, was kidnapped earlier today by agents of the Church of Ephrem the Prophet, commonly known as the Ephremite Church.

  "The network received this recording an hour ago from a spokesperson for the Church, which is claiming credit for liberating Alexis from what they term ‘the corrupting influence of the Gaian Movement.’ Church agents are holding the girl in an undisclosed location and demanding that the Hefn agree to release her officially into Ephremite custody. Here is the actual recording received by this station."

  The still image of Lexi on the screen now began to move. Someone said, in a voice Pam didn't recognize, “Lexi, go ahead now, honey, tell the folks you're all right.” The girl glared at the camera and lifted her chin, and Pam's insides weakened at this show of courage. Lexi might be intimidated, even scared to death, but—professional to the core—she wasn't going to let it show. The speaker chuckled. “Alexis doesn't want to tell you herself, but as you can see she's absolutely fine, if a little mad at us right now. We're going to take wonderful care of her. But we're going to keep her tucked away till the Hefn agree to restore her to us for safekeeping, away from the corrupting influence of the Gaian Movement. This child was a wonderful Ephremite girl until just a few months ago, when the Gaians got hold of her and brainwashed her into believing their lies.

  "So now, while we're waiting to hear what the Hefn have to say, we'll also be trying our best to undo the evil visited upon this innocent child. Every single child is precious to us, all the more precious now that the aliens have stolen away a whole generation of our children.” All the time the unseen speaker was holding forth, Lexi stood very still but her mobile face expertly conveyed her disdain. ("Precious my foot ... what a load of crapola ... you people don't believe any of this, do you?") Pam was so proud of her that her eyes prickled.

  "We ask for your prayers and support as we endeavor to force these evil creatures to renounce the crime they committed against humanity a generation ago. We demand that they restore our ability to obey the commandment God first gave to Adam and Eve: that they be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the Earth."

  The newscaster's face replaced Lexi's on the screen. “CBC has learned that six months ago, the Gaian Mission in Salt Lake City filed a complaint against Alexis Allred's grandfather, on a charge of sexual abuse of a minor. The grandfather, Edgar Carstairs, is a member of the Ephremite Church and a direct descendent of the Prophet Ephrem Carstairs. Since allegations were filed against Mr. Carstairs, Alexis has been under Gaian oversight. A Thousand Miles, which is financed and produced by the Ephremite Church, was filming on location in the Wasatch Mountains east of Salt Lake when the child was abducted."

  * * * *

  4

  It was nearly midnight when Pam's train pulled into New Jerusalem Square. The light-rail system, TRAX, had stopped running at 11:00, but a few horse cars were still parked at the curb. Pam shouldered her pack, climbed the stairs to the street. Office or home? Home first, then office? Or vice versa? She dithered, staring up at the Ephremite angel, Fortibus, guyed atop the tallest spire of the Cathedral opposite the station.

  The Gaians would need to put a public face on their efforts to find Lexi. It would be best to get a statement out tonight. Office then. Pam hailed a horse cab and climbed in.

  The night air was delightful; the driver had folded down the top of his cab. As the horse began to clomp forward on its rubber shoes, Pam sat back and studied the angel, bathed in light high above the darker streets. Despite his winglessness he did appear to be in flight, as the figurehead of a ship appears to fly above the waves. From the high vantage of his perch a person might very well be able to see where Lexi was being hidden. The great slab of the Ephremite Office Building dwarfed the Cathedral, spire and all; if they were holding her there—a good possibility—then Lexi might be able to look down on the angel from above. Supposing they ever let her near a window.

  "Where to, lady?” said the driver, who sounded Latino.

  "The Gaian Mission on Fourth South."

  He whistled. “Wouldn't go nowheres near that place if I was you."

  "Just take me there, okay?"

  Inside the Mission, lamps were lit. Good, dear, faithful, dependable Jaime. Pam climbed out and paid the driver, who got his first good look at her under the street light. “Oh, hokay, you that lady that works for them Hefn. Workin’ late tonight, tryin’ to fin’ that little girl on the telly, now I get it."

  Pam hurried up the walk. Jaime jerked the door open before she could finish unlocking it. “Thank God you're back."

  "I'm mighty glad to see you too.” She shrugged off her pack and collapsed on the couch beside it. “I saw the recording on the train. What have you found out?"

  "Not a freakin’ thing! I called the cops right after I talked with you, and they started out looking, but the minute they found out who it was that had her, that was the end of that. The Church is zipped up tight on this one, I worked through the whole list of contacts and nothing, not a peep, nobody's talking.” Jaime blew through his lips in frustration. “Want some tea? Cider?"

  "Thanks, but I rode all the way back in the café car.” Pam rubbed her eyes. “There may only be a handful of people who actually know anything. You have to give them credit, the ones involved are putting their lives on the line. They know the Hefn could mindwipe them for this if it doesn't go their way. Ephremites have never been cowards about their convictions."

  "Yeah, well, I think it's pretty cowar
dly to kidnap a little girl and use her as a hostage,” Jaime muttered. “How are the Hefn gonna respond?"

  "I doubt they'll respond at all, actually, they're more likely to just act like nothing happened. Or no,” she said, “Humphrey's fond of Lexi, he won't leave her in the clutches of the Church. He's coming out in a couple of days. If we haven't found her by then, he'll get out of ‘em where she is, and not by negotiating either."

  "Well, I'd a hell of a lot rather not wait that long."

  Pam nodded. “They'll take care of her, and she won't crack, at least not right away, but she'll be counting on me to get her out of this and I absolutely have to not let her down—I'm with you, I don't want to wait for Humphrey, let's find her now.” Despite these words Pam yawned and stretched, pulling herself almost horizontal on the couch.

  "So, do we issue a statement?"

  "We do. That's why I came here straight from the station.” Pam heaved herself up and trudged into her office. “Computer on.” She plunked into her desk chair. “I like what you said before. How's this: ‘Abducting a child to use as a bargaining chip is a cowardly deed. The Ephremite Church, whose history is filled with acts of sacrifice and courage, has betrayed herself today.’”

  * * * *

  Jaime dispatched this to the Salt Lake Tribune and CBC, then left to bicycle the half mile home. Pam had intended to go home as well, but the couch in her office suddenly seemed to sing a siren song. She scrounged her toothbrush out of her luggage, washed the sunblock off her face, flicked off the lights, and crashed.

  She slept heavily, done in by the past couple of days. Dream fragments came, went, came again. At dawn, weightless in the pure light, she stood transfixed upon the tallest spire of the New Jerusalem Cathedral and beheld the burning sliver of the sun poised to lift above the Wasatch Range. Birds came to her: finches, sparrows, robins and mallards she had raised or nursed and released, all shining, whirling about her head. Gimpy swooped in and hovered at arm's length before her face, wings beating, strong and whole; and as she stretched forth a finger to touch the russet feathers of her breast the realization struck home: I'm dreaming! I'm having a lucid dream!

  She had read about this but never experienced it. In a lucid dream you're aware that you're dreaming, you can take the dream wherever you like. I'll find out where they're keeping Lexi! she thought at once, and, spreading her wings wide, launched herself into the air. Flanked and buoyed up by the spiraling flock of ducks and songbirds, Pam circled high over the city. Show me where Lexi is! she commanded, and was immediately soaring south, the Great Salt Lake to her right and rear, the Wasatch Range and the sunrise to her left. The birds flew with her—silent, even the mallards, except for the stroking of their wings. All together they swept past Point of the Mountain and flew over Orem and then Provo, the silver tracks of TRAX flashing far below.

  They went like the wind. The birds stopped weaving in the air and settled into a mixed flock with Pam at the center, holding a flat smooth trajectory, higher and far faster than natural birds can fly. I hope I don't wake up before we get there, she thought; but the landscape streamed beneath her and the dream went on.

  Pinned to the wall of the office where Pam's body lay asleep was a huge relief map of Utah. Now this map lay spread below her, showing her the green peaks through which she was being guided. Above Spanish Fork, with the tip of Utah Lake in view, the flock turned east of south, leaving the shiny rail tracks and the Salt Lake Valley behind. The terrain abruptly changed; they broke out of the peaks, and now beneath them deep meandering canyons cut through scrubbly mountains, where dark green vegetation grew thickly scattered against a ground of red and yellow-tan. A road wound through and they followed that, flying high and fast. Clustered buildings—Price?—flashed by. They were moving even faster now, veering south again, and now the land-map lost definition in a long broad valley vaguely and distantly flanked by ranges, and Pam was aware of little but dizzying speed and the energy of the birds, bearing her up, sweeping her along. Till suddenly there was the tiny twist of a river dead ahead, dirty green within the wrinkled flatness of the valley, and they were speeding down, down, down, circling, swooping low above a line of tall flat-topped pink cliffs and the flash of water to a wider road, a long low building, a child looking up, holding her left hand high in the Gaian salute.

  Pam gasped awake. Her legs swung off the couch by themselves, rushed her to the wall and the relief map. “Lights!” Her head was clear as a bell, but she had to prop herself with both hands on the wall while she made sure.

  Then she pushed off and spoke to the phone. “How fast can you get over here?” Pam said, when Jaime's puffy, stubbly face appeared onscreen. “I know where she is!"

  * * * *

  "Green River?” He peered at the map doubtfully. “How would they get her there from Emigration Canyon? We'd know if they'd taken out their chopper after the news release. They haven't. They probably can't."

  "No, they'll lose their chopper now. TRAX to Salina, then overland?"

  "Overland how? By public bus? It's less than twenty-four hours since they snatched her.” Jaime rubbed his face, making a raspy sound. “They could put a Church car on the train without attracting attention, I guess, they do that all the time, but—look, Boss, tell me again about this dream?"

  Pam said, “No matter how many times I tell it, it's not going to sound any more reasonable. I can't even be sure it was a dream. I was sound asleep, but ... listen, we can talk about it later but right now we have to get down to Green River. Humor me, Jaime. I know that's where she is, even if I can't explain how I know."

  Unhappy but resigned, he grumbled, “I'll go along, but I gotta say, it's not like you to do things that don't make sense."

  "I know it's not. I agree with every word you've said so far."

  "Well.” He paused. “Okay. Here's what we do. We call down to Moab and have Harley send some people up there."

  After Salt Lake, the principal Gaian Mission in Utah was in Moab, not far beyond Green River but farther than Pam had flown in her dream. “That's brilliant! Thank God one of us still has their wits about them. Better not mention the dream thing, say we've had a tip, and to check out all the motels that have rows of rooms on one level. Probably an older motel, maybe abandoned."

  "Phone on,” yelled Jaime, striding toward his own office.

  "And tell him to be careful! The Church has staked an awful lot on this."

  Jaime sat at his desk and punched a key. “People go back and forth all the time between Green River and Moab on the old rail line through Crescent Junction,” he called to Pam. “We can have a posse up there by lunchtime—what the devil's the matter with this phone?"

  The problem was an incoming call from Santa Barbara. “If that's Humphrey, put it through to my office.” She went in and shut the door, and there on the screen was her favorite Hefn's familiar face, all beard and fuzz. Seeing it, Pam realized she had totally forgotten about the conference and its urgent business; but this had priority now. “Okay if I call you back in five minutes? We're sending out some people to pick up Lexi and we need to get hold of them."

  "Lexi has been found?"

  "Not yet, but we think we know where she is. I'll explain when I call you back."

  "Explain when you see me,” said Humphrey, “this evening. I am coming to Salt Lake, as we agreed."

  Pam said, “Look, that's great, but I may be tied up with this rescue. You might want to wait a day or two."

  Humphrey said calmly, “I do not want to wait a day or two. If you are not at home I will let myself in and wait for you, or I will come and find you."

  He was telling, not asking; Pam had to acquiesce. While Jaime called Moab, she stared soberly at the blank screen. But then she heard Harley Kroupa's voice describing how he would organize and move his troops, and rushed into Jaime's office to urge, “Be careful! Don't you guys get captured or we'll have to bust you out of there too."

  "You sure they've got her in Green River? Seems like
a funny place to pick."

  Jaime started to answer but Pam said firmly, “That's what we hear. No guarantees, but it's our best lead, and if there's any chance at all—"

  "Gotcha. We'll do our damnedest. An old motel, they said, just a strip of rooms like a train of cars?"

  Pam hesitated. “Something like that. Kind of big."

  "Might be any of a bunch of ‘em. Well, those ones are all on East Main, we'll stake ‘em all out."

  "Great. If you can bring her back as far as Salina, we'll meet you there. There's a train in an hour and a half."

  Jaime cut the connection and swiveled in his chair to look up at Pam. “We'll meet you?"

  "I will, then. You don't need to come, O thou of little faith; I know you think it's a wild goose chase. You stay and mind the store."

  Her own words made her shiver. A wild goose chase indeed.

  * * * *

  5

  Lexi came out of the little bathroom of the swaying bus and made her way back to her place behind the driver, holding onto the other seats to keep her balance.

  She was no longer in her Thousand Miles getup. Back in the huge bathroom of the house in Little Cottonwood Canyon, where they'd shot that viddy, she had scrubbed off her makeup and changed into her own jeans, T-shirt, socks, and sneakers. Her mother had put these items in a bag for Granpa, and Granpa had given the bag to the Canon after they'd hauled her into the helicopter. There was a sweatshirt too, but she'd taken that off. Even with all the windows open it was warm on the bus.

  She'd been sleeping with the seat tilted back as far as it would go, and felt dopey and strange, and now she was hungry. She glanced across the aisle at the young man—Jared—who'd been in the chopper with Canon Erickson, and who'd bundled her onto the train at Midvale while everybody looked the other way. He was reading, a book that looked like The Sayings of Ephrem. It went against the grain to ask a kidnapper for any favors, but the more she thought about food the harder it got not to. She was mentally practicing “I don't suppose you thought to bring any food on this getaway bus,” in haughty, disdainful tones, when Jared closed his book, stretched, looked over at Lexi, and said, “How about something to eat?"