The Music of the Machine (The Book of Terwilliger 2)

by Michael Stiles

  “You getting any bad vibes, Charlie Brown?” said Blair.

  Danny reached out with his mind. The thoughts of the men with him were like solar flares erupting just beyond the edge of his vision. He tried to ignore their thoughts to see if anyone else was out there, but they were all scared out of their wits and the images tumbled out of their heads like four avalanches of terror. Thinking that it might be better if he were farther away, he wrapped himself in his poncho and walked several paces along the edge of the clearing. Even then, it was hard to tell if the images of darkness and death were coming from his comrades or someone else, hidden out there in the dark.

  “Can’t tell,” he said after returning to the others.

  Lieutenant Lonnie was not pleased. “What does that mean? Are they out there or not?”

  “I’m saying I can’t tell. I’m getting a little noise from that way”—he waved a hand to the east—“but you said there’s a village over there. It could just be that.” Volpe was glaring at him; Danny glared right back.

  “I don’t like this spot,” Angus said.

  Lonnie had a look on his face that could have been extreme anger or an oncoming case of dysentery. “This is where they sent us,” he said through clenched teeth, “whether you like it or not.”

  “I’m just saying,” Angus went on, “it doesn’t feel right. Charlie Brown doesn’t like it either.”

  “Shut up and stand by,” Metcalf snapped. He and Volpe carried the radio under the canopy of trees and huddled over it to call for a helicopter.

  Angus peered at the clearing. He didn’t look happy. Danny didn’t need to read his thoughts to know what he was afraid of. “I think they’re out there,” Blair said, softly enough that only Danny would be able to hear. “This is an obvious spot for us to catch a ride. They’re watching us.” With that, he got up and walked a few steps away to urinate.

  Plotkin came over and clapped Danny on the shoulder. “Good to be alive. Even on a shitty day like this, right?”

  Danny didn’t answer.

  Lieutenant Lonnie joined them. “Make yourselves comfortable, ladies,” he announced. “Chopper can’t come till this storm settles down a little. I’m calling them back in one hour.”

  Blair was just zipping up. “They better not wait too long,” he said. “I ain’t sleeping here.”

  “Don’t sleep, then,” Metcalf replied.

  They sat together in silence at the edge of the trees, looking out into the darkness. Danny continued to reach out for any sign of enemy brainwaves. Faint images flickered in his vision from far off to the east, but he still couldn’t tell if they were the thoughts of peaceful farmers or guerillas.

  The rain eased up after a while. Volpe and the Lieutenant chatted about baseball. Neither one of them knew anything about baseball, but each wanted the other to think he did. They ate C-rations and Plotkin didn’t throw up anymore. It was almost time for Lonnie to call about that helicopter again when Volpe lit up a cigarette.

  “Put that thing out,” Angus snapped.

  “Shut the hell up,” said Volpe.

  Blair got up, walked calmly over to Volpe, and snatched the cigarette right out of his mouth. Plotkin laughed out loud. Volpe leapt to his feet, but Blair had six inches and about fifty pounds on him. Volpe got close to Angus and said, “Give that back, asshole.”

  “You want to make yourself a target, get the hell away from the rest of us first.”

  “Jeez, Blair,” said Lonnie. “Let him have a damn cigarette. He’ll cover up the light.”

  Volpe had his hand on the handle of his Ka-Bar knife. “You heard the Lieutenant,” he said softly.

  Angus pondered his options for a long time, but in the end he didn’t seem to think it was worth the trouble. He handed the burning cigarette back to Volpe and stalked back to his spot next to Danny.

  “They’re both morons,” Danny said quietly.

  “You see,” Volpe was saying to the Lieutenant, “that’s how you can tell somebody’s low class. Grabbing a cigarette out of a guy’s fucking mouth. If somebody did that to me back home―”

  He didn’t have a chance to finish his thought. A resounding thud sounded from beyond the far end of the clearing. All five men instinctively fled toward the cover of the trees; they had recognized the sound instantly. Danny grabbed Plotkin by the arm and dragged him along. Volpe and Metcalf ran toward the northwest edge of the clearing; Danny chose the west side. He didn’t see which way Blair went.

  The first mortar shell exploded near the middle of the open field. There was a pause as the enemy adjusted their aim, then came the sound of several more shells being launched. Danny pulled Plotkin along behind him as he struggled through the thick, wet foliage looking for the trail that had brought them here. There were occasional flashes as the mortar rounds exploded, and he used those strobe-lit instants to find his way. He heard shouts from his right that sounded like the Lieutenant, followed by another explosion—closer this time—then silence. Danny stopped to listen, but he couldn’t hear anything over the ringing of his ears.

  There were no more explosions. Most of the mortar shells had hit well to his right. He and Sammy crouched down and waited.

  In the ringing darkness, he sought the state of concentration he needed to listen with his mind. A sudden barrage of intense thought-images caught him by surprise, and he nearly cried out until he recognized Angus’ thoughts. So Blair was still alive, and Sammy. He didn’t pick up any others.

  Danny followed the images to where Angus lay in the mud, pointing his rifle into the darkness. He was still under the cover of the trees, but close enough to the clearing to watch for approaching targets. The machine gunner put a finger up to his lips and gazed into the night.

  They stayed like that for fifteen minutes, waiting to see if anyone would come. When no one did, Danny whispered, “I’m going to take a look around.”

  Angus nodded. Plotkin sagged to the ground with a heavy sigh and put his head down on his knees.

  Danny borrowed a flashlight from Plotkin and ventured over in the direction where he thought Lonnie and Volpe had gone. Just twenty or thirty feet further on, he found a spot where the jungle had been torn to pieces. Tree trunks were splintered and the ground was a smoking ruin. He saw no sign of the other two, so he moved on.

  He found a trail of glistening gore that led to the upper half of Lieutenant Lonnie, which was leaning up against a thick tree root. Lonnie’s lower half was nowhere to be seen.

  He had trouble finding Volpe until he doubled back to the clearing. One of the first rounds had gone off right at the edge of the grassy area where the trail met the clearing, and Volpe had met his end there with a large bit of shrapnel sticking out of the top of his head. He looked a little like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. That thought made Danny giggle; then he regretted giggling and turned his light off.

  The rain had stopped. Now the humidity was so great that Danny felt like he was trying to breathe underwater. He went back over to where they’d left their gear. Thankfully this appeared to be undamaged by the attack. He put on his buttpack and was about to return to the others when he noticed Volpe’s gear on the ground nearby. After considering this for a bit, he decided to pick up Volpe’s radio, still in its harness. He strapped it on and returned to the spot where Angus and Sammy were still waiting.

  “It’s Danny,” he whispered as he approached the place where he’d last seen them. “Don’t shoot me, don’t shoot.”

  “What the hell were you doing?” Angus whispered back.

  “Getting my stuff. And this.” Danny showed him the radio. “Rain’s stopped. We can call for a ride out of here.”

  “We’ve got a radio,” said Sammy, “but no RTO.”

  “It’s okay,” Danny said. “I can use it.”

  “Where the hell did you learn how to operate a Prick-25?” asked Sammy.

  Blair stood up. “Don’t know, don’t care,” he said. “I’m going to get my stuff.” He walked toward the cleari
ng and came back a few minutes later with his own gear. “I think it’s just us now, guys.”

  Plotkin was probing the bandage on the side of his head and wincing in pain. “Think this’ll get me sent home?”

  “Nah,” said Danny. “They’ll duct-tape your skull back together and send you right back.”

  Blair shushed them both. “Listen.”

  They fell silent and listened to the insects and dripping leaves. There was something else, too—a rustling from the clearing that didn’t sound natural. The moon had come out, but a mist was rising after the rain, reducing what little they could see by moonlight. Danny took a deep breath of humid air and let his mind listen for stray thoughts.

  The images that flooded his mind were what he had least wanted to see. There were too many to be able to tell them apart. “Enemies,” he whispered. “Lots of them. They’re coming.”

  5

  A Broken Mirror

  Joy and Rayfield sat together on a high, rocky plateau, looking up at a sky full of brilliant stars. The sky was a deep, beautiful purple, and the stars were bright and vivid points of a million different colors. In spite of the darkness above, the ground was lit as brightly as if the sun was shining. Below them, a vast forest stretched out as far as they could see in the crystal-clear air. The forest had a blue tint, as did the weeds and blades of grass that grew near them on the plateau. Rayfield’s glorious afro sparkled in the starlight. No matter how many times Joy came here, or wandered through the other mind-worlds she sometimes explored, the sheer beauty always took her breath away. They were inside Ed Terwilliger’s mind.

  Hesitantly, Joy reached out with a finger and touched one of the blue-green blades of grass. An image flashed into her head: a memory of Ed’s, of a summer day in his childhood. She hoped he didn’t mind her peeking at a few of his memories now and then. It still amazed her that such a thing was even possible.

  Perla arrived next. Physically, she was at her home in Colorado. She had had a difficult time learning the trick of coming here. Rayfield and Sarah had already known it, and Joy had picked it up easily, but to Perla it was like learning a foreign language. She stood some distance away to give them a little privacy. Joy always got the feeling that Perla was a little jealous of them—jealous that Joy had found someone and broken up their duo. Joy also had not ruled out the possibility that Perla might be a lesbian.

  Ed appeared a few minutes later. One moment Joy and Rayfield were alone; the next, Ed was sitting on a rock next to them as though he’d been there all along. He looked troubled.

  “Is Doris coming?” Rayfield asked. He still called her Doris, and probably always would.

  Terwilliger picked up a rock and held it in his hand, then took his hand away and made the rock float in mid-air. “She’s a little restless tonight. Maybe in a little while, once she can settle down her brain a bit.” He waved his hand, and the rock shot into the distance like a bullet. “That might come in handy,” he said to himself.

  At the base of their plateau was the largest tree Joy had ever seen. The tree was their meeting place, because it was easy to find. It was the oldest thing in the forest, containing the earliest memories that existed inside Ed’s mind. Everyone had a big tree like it in their own forest, he had told them. Joy thought of it as a sacred thing, something that only its owner should ever touch.

  They’d been having these meetings twice a week ever since Toronto. Sometimes the nice Chinese boy joined them, but usually Ed met with him separately because of time-zones. Joy liked Danny; he was cute and he always said things that she found surprising.

  Ed was frowning at the big tree. “What’s the matter?” Joy asked him.

  “Hmm?” Terwilliger sat up straighter as though just waking up from a doze. “Just thinking. Do you remember Agent Driscoll?”

  “The FBI man?” said Joy.

  “He showed up at my house today,” Ed said.

  She felt Rayfield’s arm grow suddenly tense beneath her fingers. “Did you clobber him?” she asked.

  Ed smiled. “No, no clobbering. Sarah almost fried his eggs for him, but he came in peace.”

  Rayfield chuckled. “Fried his eggs,” he repeated. “She a firecracker, that Doris.”

  “You watch what you say about me, Rayfield,” said Sarah’s voice from above them. Startled, they all looked upward to see Sarah floating over their heads. She was smiling down at Rayfield impishly.

  “Lord, girl!” said Rayfield. “You just about scared the poop outta me!”

  Sarah settled to the ground next to Ed. “Driscoll’s afraid of me.”

  “I’m afraid of you too, babe,” Ed said sweetly. Then he got down to business: “Driscoll came to tell me Nathaniel’s come back.”

  Rayfield made a low sound, like an angry cow. “Nathaniel’s bad news. Even the Guru was careful around that dude.”

  “There’s more,” Ed went on. “He’s taken over Kajdas’ body. Which means he probably has access to everything Kajdas knows. Including… some pretty bad things.”

  Joy looked up at the stars. She and Rayfield were together in their house in Los Angeles, a place that had once been used by someone Rayfield called the Guru. He wanted to stay in L.A., and Joy wasn’t picky about where she lived as long as she was near him. It made her marvel to think that she could close her eyes and be here, talking to her friends, without ever leaving home. One of those millions of lights was hers, up there in that sky, and the one next to it was Rayfield.

  As she watched, one of the stars flared brighter and then winked out. Somewhere in the world, someone had just died. Old age, Joy hoped. Painlessly, in their sleep.

  “Kajdas was in the middle of a big project when he… when I broke him. Driscoll described it as a weapon. As far as he knows, there’s only one person living, other than Kajdas, who knows about it. His name is Witherspoon.”

  Perla was nodding her head slowly as she listened. “So why don’t we―”

  “Something happened to Witherspoon after Toronto. One day he was acting normally, and the next day he was behaving so strangely that his wife got scared and called Agent Driscoll―”

  “Ken,” Sarah put in.

  “Called Ken to come talk to him. She had no one else to call, apparently. They treat Ken like a son. Driscoll went to see him, but Witherspoon wasn’t taking any visitors. He refused to let anyone in the house. His wife was beside herself, practically begging Driscoll to help, but Witherspoon came out of the bedroom waving his gun around and told him to leave.”

  “Ken has known Witherspoon for a long time,” Sarah added. “He described him as a nice old man. But the Witherspoon he saw that day, threatening to shoot him, was a wreck. His wife said he hadn’t left the house or spoken to anyone for weeks.”

  “What do you think happened to him?” asked Joy. She was still watching the sky, at the spot where the light had gone out.

  Ed stood up and began to pace slowly back and forth. “I don’t know. But I bet Nathaniel had something to do with it.”

  At last, Joy saw what she was looking for. A new star came to life in the sky, not far from where the old one had gone out. It was hard to tell, but she thought the new one was the same color as the old. A baby being born. Whenever she saw a star go out, she always kept watching until a new one lit up. Seeing that always cheered her up.

  “Whatever Kajdas was working on,” Ed was saying, “Nathaniel will want to use it. And if he wants to use it, he has to remove any obstacles that stand in his way—including any people who know it exists. I think Nathaniel did something to Witherspoon to keep him quiet.”

  “Ed’s going down to Virginia to see him,” Sarah said. “And I’m trying to get a job.”

  “Ooooh!” Joy exclaimed. This was much more interesting than the Witherspoon conversation. “That’ll be far out! What kind of job? What do you know how to do?”

  Sarah thought about that. “I can melt people’s brains.”

  “I don’t know if anybody’d hire you for that,” Rayfield
said thoughtfully. “But I bet you’re good at other things. Can you cook?”

  Ed looked down and studied his sneakers.

  “I could learn to cook,” Sarah said defensively. “I can fix cars, too. Well, I know how to break a car, and if I can break it I can fix it.”

  “I had a job back home,” said Joy. “I used to write for the Denver Post.”

  Everyone other than Perla turned to look at her in surprise. “Yeah?” Rayfield said. He looked impressed. Joy beamed at him.

  “Yup! They fired me when I filed a story about how the Mayor was using radio broadcasts to brainwash people.”

  “I can see how they might not want to print that,” Ed said, looking at her askance. She was quite used to it; people always looked at her that way when she told them about the brainwashing.

  “Don’t make fun,” Perla said. “I was there. Joy was lucky she got away.”

  “Oh, Perla!” Joy laughed. “Remember how you ran over the Mayor’s assistant with your bus? He never saw it coming—squish!”

  Perla chuckled. “More like crunch. He deserved it, that bozo.”

  “You drove a bus?” Sarah asked her.

  “Best job I ever had,” Perla said with a wistful smile.

  “See?” said Sarah. “Everybody’s had a job except me.”

  Ed cleared his throat. “There’s a person I think we should try to find. If Nathaniel is out there, he might be looking for people Kajdas used to know. There was a girl in L.A. who used to help him. Her name was Maggie. Rayfield, you should see if you can find…” He trailed off, suddenly distracted, and gazed up at the sky.

  “What is it, Ed?” Sarah asked him.

  He looked up in silence for a long time. “Maybe nothing,” he said at last. “It just reminded me of… No—it’s him!” He grabbed Sarah by the arm. “Leave my mind, all of you. Right now. It’s not safe.” Then he took off suddenly into the air and flew away over the treetops at an impossible speed.