Lexi looked little and pale in all that whiteness. The sight of her struck a blow to Pam's solar plexus that felt physical. Carefully she drew up a chair and sat in it. She watched the child's sleeping profile while trying to grapple with the implications of what Harley had just said: that if Lexi had arrived in Green River at the same time the posse did—then the lucid dream had showed Pam, not where Lexi was, but where she was going to be some eight hours afterwards.
She pondered this. After a bit, she reached over and slid her hand, very carefully, beneath Lexi's left hand where it was sticking out of the cast. She closed her fingers lightly around it and sat back.
Considered from the perspective of an ordinary person, remote viewing combined with precognition might seem not much more remarkable than setting time transceiver coordinates mentally while in a self-induced state of trance. But several dozen Bureau of Temporal Physics Apprentices from successive classes had been operating transceivers that way since they were children. For those with native talent, it was a teachable and learnable skill. Pam didn't understand how her mind interlaced with the transceiver field, any more than she understood how her computer did what it did. But both were familiar, part of her frame of reference.
Whatever had happened in the dream was neither. State your request; be instantly swept up and carried like a cork on a mighty swell of energy. No devices, no crystal balls or mirrors, yarrow stalks or Ouija boards, nothing like that. Nothing like the complex technology of the transceivers. Just a dream. She conjured up the moment of descent toward the long, low, double building where Lexi stood holding up her hand—this hand, the broken one—and shivered.
Had Lexi known where they were taking her, had Pam read her mind somehow? Some kind of psychic thing? Psychics who could do remote viewing sometimes helped with police work. Even that, wild though it seemed, would have been easier for Pam to accept than that she had somehow seen into the future.
Though if Time were truly One, as the Hefn were always insisting, didn't it follow that the future is just as “there” as the past and just as available to be looked at, if you knew how to look? Pam was seized by a craving for information. Studies had been done on precognition, she'd seen them referred to, somewhere, sometime. But having been involved so intensely for so long with the past, Pam's imagination had never before been quickened by the idea of the future. The future was the disaster the Gaians were fighting to head off.
Then the hand lying weightless in hers moved, and Lexi stirred, gasped a little, opened her eyes and saw Pam. As her lids fluttered shut again, she smiled and murmured, “I knew you'd come."
* * * *
"She's fine physically,” Pam told Harley Kroupa on the nurse's phone, “but she's pretty upset about everything that's happened to her. She doesn't want me to leave, so I guess I'll stay here with her tonight, and then we'll start back in the morning on the early bus."
Harley barely heard her out. “Understood. Listen, Jaime called; I was just about to call you. He wants you to get back to him asap.” Harley paused dramatically. “The Hefn Humphrey is on his way to Moab! He wants you to wait for him. He came to Salt Lake—well, maybe I should let Jaime tell you himself."
This was a poser. “He's coming here? Did Jaime say why?"
"No, just that he seemed really determined about it. He'll be here—well—any time now I guess, he's taking a helicopter from Salt Lake. Will he come to the Mission, do you think?” Harley's droopy face was flushed and transformed with excitement; the Gaian rank-and-file almost never got to see the founder of their movement in the flesh.
"He'll probably land in the middle of Main Street and wait for the Mission to come to him,” Pam said drily. “Oh God. Okay, I'll call my office. When he shows up, please tell him I have to stay here with Lexi, but that he's very welcome to join us. And maybe you could send us in some dinner? I'm sorry, there seems to be a lot going on at once."
"Sure, we'll rustle you up some dinner, I'll bring it over myself, bring your backpack too. Is Humphrey—is he partial to anything in particular?"
"Cobbler,” Pam said. “Blackberry cobbler. I don't expect you can produce one of those just like that. Lexi and I aren't finicky, but we're both pretty hungry."
"I'll see what I can do."
He rang off, and Pam put through the call to Jaime, who flashed onto the screen with both eyebrows raised. “I take it all back, boss,” he said. “You're a magician and I'll never second-guess you again."
"Good God, don't say that! I'll have to fire you and find somebody else to keep me in line!"
He grinned. “So, Harley says she'll be okay?"
"Completely okay medically, it's just a hairline fracture, but she's got some PTSD. Anxious, doesn't want me out of her sight, refuses to see her mother—RoLayne and Ed Carstairs and the Canon of Lexi's Parcel were all in on the abduction. I'll brief you on the details, but anyhow something's got to be decided about custody right away, she can't go home. What's all this about Humphrey, though?"
"He turned up here around one-thirty. He'd flown in from Santa Barbara and didn't bother to call first. I didn't say anything about your dream, I just explained the situation—said you'd probably bring Lexi back up here tomorrow, and did he want to make himself at home at your place till then, and he said, honest to God, he said ‘I will not wait at Pam Pruitt's house if Pam Pruitt is in Moab. I will go to directly to Moab. I will not pass Go. I will not collect two hundred dollars.’ Where did Humphrey learn to play Monopoly?"
"Oh, we used to play board games a lot at the BTP. He loved all those corny old ones like Monopoly and Clue."
"After that I heard a chopper take off about, oh, two hours ago? I assumed it was him, coming straight there."
"It was,” said Pam, “I hear the chopper now. Did he say what was so urgent it couldn't wait?"
"Nope. Maybe he's always wanted to see Delicate Arch."
Pam groaned. “Okay, let's focus on the custody question. Lexi's got aunts and uncles in Salt Lake and Ogden, but they're all Ephremites and she doesn't want anything to do with Ephremites right now. She hasn't come right out and said so, but I know what she really wants is to stay with me. And that's fine, for a while, but if she's going to keep acting in A Thousand Miles when she's better, she's going to need two things: a different responsible adult on location, and a full-time non-Ephremite bodyguard. Can you get rolling on all that?"
Jaime's mouth twisted sideways. “Hmm. Custody and bodyguard I can do. Responsible adult, I don't know. What about her dad, could he take over for RoLayne?"
Pam realized she knew nothing whatever about Lexi's father, not even his first name. “It's a thought, but I'd better ask Lexi how she likes that idea. He's her dad, but he's an Ephremite too; Ed Carstairs is his stepfather. Hold off on that one, I guess. Have you called Marcee?"
"Yesterday afternoon, soon's I knew something to tell her. The writers are already beavering away on a script about Kate's broken arm. Bit ghoulish, don't you think?"
Pam grinned. “I guess that's show biz. See you tomorrow then."
She cut the connection, apologized to the nurse, whose name tag read mrs jackson, for keeping the phone tied up so long, and went back into Lexi's room. The patient was sitting up in bed; she'd taken her arm out of the sling and was examining her cast. “Dinner's on the way,” Pam said, “and guess what else is on the way? Humphrey! Did you hear the helicopter?"
Lexi nodded, beginning to smile. “Was that him? Cool! Why is he here though?"
"Jaime wasn't sure. Maybe he'll tell us himself. How do you feel? Want to get dressed before he gets here?"
"Can I?"
"I don't see why not, if we can get the nurse to take your IV out."
Mrs. Jackson called the doctor, then came in and disconnected Lexi from her drip. The bandage she plastered over the insertion point had yellow ducklings on it, and Lexi slid her eyes sideways at Pam, saying more plainly than words, What does she think I am, a baby?
Pam grinned behind the nurse's
departing back. “Where's your stuff?"
She didn't know, but Pam opened the locker door and there were Lexi's jeans and T-shirt on hooks, and her socks and sneakers on the floor. “I had a sweat shirt too but I guess it's still on that bus."
"Hmm.” Pam took the T-shirt down and considered it. “Let's see if this'll go on over your cast. Did I ever tell you I broke my arm when I was about your age? I remember what a hassle it was, trying to get stuff on over my head by myself."
"How'd you break yours?"
"Falling out of a tree.” She sat down on the bed and untied Lexi's hospital gown. The shirt went over the cast without difficulty, then over the other arm and head. Lexi tugged her hair free and pulled on her own jeans one-handedly, sitting on a chair to do it, but Pam had to button the waistband. Lexi did the socks and shoes herself and Pam tied the laces. “Teamwork is the answer. You'll get better at doing things for yourself, though. Since you're right-handed it's good it was your left wrist you broke."
The doctor, large brown envelope tucked under her arm, knocked and came in as Pam was brushing the tangles out of Lexi's hair. When Lexi introduced her to Pam she added proudly, “Dr. Boniface is a Gaian!"
"I am indeed, and it's a great pleasure to meet you, Ms. Pruitt."
"It's a great pleasure for me,” said Pam, “to meet the person who fixed up my girl here.” She shook the doctor's hand. “Would you care to stick around and meet the Hefn Humphrey? He's rumored to be headed this way."
"It's more than a rumor. Harley called me a couple of minutes ago. They were leaving as soon as Sophie'd finished hitching up the team. Sounds like they're bringing enough food to feed a regiment."
"Dollars to doughnuts Humphrey will be driving by the time they get here,” said Pam. “Anything I should know about Lexi's wrist? We're leaving in the morning."
Dr. Boniface laid the envelope on the bed. “These are her X-rays. The Salt Lake orthopedist will want to see them. Lexi, your cast comes off in five or six weeks, then they'll give you a splint, that'll make things easier. Keep the sling on till then, okay?"
Lexi nodded. A small commotion outside had been growing louder as the doctor spoke. “Here comes dinner,” Pam said.
Dr. Boniface peered out the window. “And every Gaian in Moab."
The door of the clinic burst open. Lexi bounced on her bed with excitement, then bounced out of it as Pam hurried into the reception area.
One of the truly endearing things about Humphrey was the way he gave himself up completely to simple pleasures. “Hello, my dear! Look, I am a driver of horses! Harley Kroupa gave me a lesson and put the reins into my hands! We trotted! It is very, very—it is very—delightful—to drive a team of horses!” He was literally wriggling with delight. “And hello to you also, dear little Lexi! Like you, I am now a driver of horses! Do you also find it very wonderful?"
Lexi, who'd been hovering in the doorway of her room, now came out and leaned against Pam. “Hi, Humphrey. I do find it lots of fun, I wish I got to do it more."
"On A Thousand Miles,” Humphrey explained to the gathered Gaians, who doubtless already knew this as well as he did, “Kate McPherson had once to drive horses and a supply wagon through the North Platte River. I had no idea how delightful this could be.” He made a visible effort to calm himself down. “How are you feeling this evening, little dear? I am very sorry about your broken bone."
"It's only a hairline fracture,” Lexi told him; she'd been hearing people say that since yesterday. “It kind of hurts though."
Pam supported the arm and pulled the sling out of the way. “It's swollen. Better get that ice pack back on it. Can she have something for pain?” she asked Mrs. Jackson, who was standing at her station taking in the show.
Susan Boniface, who had come out to see it as well, said, “I'll take care of it. Come along, Lexi,” and they ducked back into the room.
Harley and the other Gaians had by now crowded into the reception behind Humphrey, carrying covered dishes, picnic baskets, and coolers. The space filled up with good smells. “Here's what we'll do,” said Pam. “Lexi and I will entertain Humphrey in Lexi's room, but there's enough food here for an Irish wake. Why don't you folks put those dishes on the nurse's station and have a potluck out here—if that's okay with you?” she asked the nurse, who nodded happily; things were obviously not this lively at the clinic as a rule. “Thanks. We'll all help clean up."
"Here's Humphrey's cobbler,” said Mercedes, the “gal Jaime” from the Mission. “You can just take that in with you. He had the most wonderful time driving over here."
It really was a blackberry cobbler, still warm. Pam looked up from its purple surface with amazed gratitude. “How—"
"I had one left in the freezer, from last summer. Humphrey is more than welcome to it. They're almost ripe again anyway."
* * * *
7
"The great thing about so many Utah Gaians being ex-Ephremites,” Pam told him later, after everyone had gone home and Lexi had dropped off to sleep, “is that they can put on a first-rate potluck at the drop of a hat. Having to eat hunkered on the floor, out of sick-up basins with tongue depressors, just made it that much more of an adventure for them. The morale of the Moab Mission will probably never be higher than it is right now."
Pam was seated in the bedside straight chair, Humphrey folded up on the bed next to Lexi's—straight chairs were just about impossible for him—clutching the round glass cobbler dish to his rough, hairy torso and a serving spoon in one of his forked hands. He had shared this treat with Lexi and Pam, but had eaten two-thirds of it himself, and now from time to time he scraped the spoon around the sides and scooped off the scrapings with his lower lip. “The Gaians of Moab have cause to celebrate without ceasing,” he said mildly. “This land they have lived into, this is a place where Gaia shows herself without equivocation. This is the true Jerusalem and well they know it.” Humphrey gave the bowl a final scrape-scoop and set it on the bed beside him. “How were you able to find Lexi Allred?"
Pam took her time describing the lucid dream. “Lexi didn't know where they were taking her,” she finished. “She asked the guy in charge of her on the bus that very question but he wouldn't say. He knew, the Canon knew, RoLayne thought she knew. Lexi didn't know. So either I read one of their minds in my sleep, or I somehow saw a little way into the future, or—what?"
She'd been watching Lexi snooze while telling the story of the rescue, but now at a sudden movement she glanced up. Humphrey was standing on the bed. All his body hair bristled straight out. His large flat eyes were trained on Pam. “What is it?” she said again, and stood herself.
Humphrey made a noise she had never heard any Hefn make in all her years among them, a high gargling sound, shockingly alien. His arms whirled in circles. In her own bed Lexi started awake. “What's the matter? What happened?” she asked in a frightened voice.
Pam shot Humphrey a warning look. “Nothing's the matter, honey. Humphrey just got carried away about something and forget to be quiet. Everything's fine, go back to sleep."
"Nothing is wrong, little Lexi,” Humphrey said in a high, strangled voice. “Everything is right. Everything is wonderful!” As an afterthought he sat down.
Of course Lexi didn't go back to sleep. Her arm hurt, she needed more ice, she needed more pills and a drink; what she needed more than anything was for Pam to pull her sheets straight, tuck her in, and generally reassure her. When her eyelids finally fluttered shut and her breathing was even, Pam turned back to Humphrey, ready to remind him to keep his voice down; but the Hefn had become calm. His hair was flatter, and he held both hands up in front of him, a gesture of placation. He spoke in a rusty whisper. “I will be quiet, my dear, I will not forget again. Yet what you tell me fills me with joy. For out of crisis has come this transformation.” He slid to the floor and beamed at her across sleeping Lexi.
The extremeness of his behavior made Pam uneasy. “Aren't you overreacting? I wouldn't call one precognitive dream
a transformation.” Though come to that, the certainty back in Santa Barbara about who Lexi's kidnappers were, the way her consciousness had expanded, become a lens of power—if that and the dream were linked somehow—
"You would not call it one, because you do not know.” Humphrey's pelt had begun to erect again. “Behold, I show you a mystery! That is from First Corinthians. Come.” Spinning round, he walked briskly through the doorway and directly up to one of the posters on the wall.
Pam followed and stood beside him. The poster displayed two long, static red figures, different from, but also similar to, those she had seen in the Moab Mission. The figure on the left had a flattened head with huge goggle eyes and skinny arms held akimbo; it looked much more like a spaceman, in point of fact, than Humphrey did. The one on the right also had skinny arms, but its head was small and surmounted with what appeared to be a pair of rabbit ears or two upright, feathery antennae; and around these structures a group of insects or tiny birds formed a kind of vertical halo. “Look, my dear. Do you see the little birds? This is a shaman figure. Do you know what a shaman is?"
"Um—a kind of sorcerer, a medicine man?"
"In traditional human cultures, a shaman is a person who travels on behalf of his people into the spirit world. He enters the spirit world in a variety of ways. Some of the ways, such as fasting, purging, going without sleep, and eating vile-tasting substances, are quite disagreeable, but many shamans have no other means of getting out of their physical bodies. They must do this if they are to seek a cure for an illness or an advantage in warfare. It is difficult and dangerous, but carries high prestige."
Pam looked at Humphrey in amazement. “How the dickens do you come to know all that? I wouldn't have thought it was in your line, so to speak."
FSF, October 2007 Page 16
