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

by Michael Stiles

  Mason nodded once, solemnly, and vanished.

  * * *

  Ed stood at the edge. It would be so easy to take one step forward and let himself fall into the smoking pit. He didn’t have much of a choice, did he? It might be suicide, but it was the only chance he had to rid himself of the infection. If he never came back, well, the world would find a way to go on without him. The urge to jump in became stronger, a compulsion, and he lifted his foot to take one final step.

  But it wasn’t that simple, was it? There was Sarah. If he was going to a place from which he might never return, he wanted to see her one more time.

  And Rayfield. Ed tried to imagine how Rayfield would react if he learned that Ed was gone. And there was Joy. Her heart would break.

  Ed shook his head vigorously to drive out all thoughts of his friends. If he was infected, then there was no telling how long he had before the darkness took over. He was a threat to all of the people he loved. Jonathan was right: the choice was clear. He couldn’t trust himself anymore. All of his thoughts were suspect now. The infection could be steering his thoughts at this very moment, flashing images of his friends before his eyes to change his mind. But his mind was made up. He took one last, deep breath, closed his eyes, and spread his arms as if he meant to embrace the darkness in front of him. Then, before he could change his mind, he allowed himself to fall forward into the abyss.

  37

  Mountains

  Rachael was not impressed with Denver, not one bit. The mountains were pretty, but once you looked at them for a while they lost their appeal. And there was not enough air. She looked out the window as Rayfield drove the Volkswagen through suburban streets where every house looked exactly the same.

  The vehicle lurched as Rayfield shifted gears, causing Rachael to smack her forehead on the back of Joy’s seat. Rachael scowled at the back of Rayfield’s head and said, “Ow.”

  “Sorry,” said Rayfield.

  “Almost home!” Joy announced, stroking the little dog that sat on her lap. “That’s my street up there at the stop sign.” Buns the dog barked once, happily, as he looked out the window. Rachael hated Buns.

  Looking at the houses in the setting sun, she honestly couldn’t imagine growing up in a neighborhood like this. It was just so conventional.

  They pulled into one of the driveways—for all Rachael could tell, they might have just picked one at random—and got out to stretch their legs. Rayfield practically had to unfold himself from the tiny driver’s seat. They had been on the road for sixteen hours, including bathroom stops and meal breaks, and Rachael was tired and miserable. Joy, on the other hand, beamed at Rayfield and gave him a kiss.

  “My dad will be so excited to meet you!”

  Rayfield smiled with his mouth, but his eyes looked terrified. “All right, sweetie!” As soon as Joy’s back was turned, he began looking desperately for some way to escape.

  Buns ran over to a tree and did his business.

  The door opened as they were ascending the steps, and a very strange man emerged to greet them. He was short and stout, like a teapot, with wild gray hair that looked like it had never seen a comb. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and smiled broadly. “Poopsie!” he exclaimed. “And Bunsie!”

  “Daddy!” Joy rushed into his arms and nearly bowled him over with an enthusiastic hug. Rayfield watched from a safe distance. Joy motioned for him to come closer. “Daddy, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Rayfield swallowed hard and said, “Uhhhhh…”

  Joy giggled. “Daddy, Rayfield’s my fiancé!”

  Joy’s father stepped closer to Rayfield and craned his neck to look up at the huge man. He tipped his head to one side, then the other, frowning slightly. “Fiancé?”

  “Mmm hmm!” said Joy. “Isn’t he impressive?”

  Her father’s serious look turned instantly to a big smile. “Impressive! Yes, yes! Joy, you really know how to pick ’em!” He grabbed Rayfield’s hand and shook it, while Rayfield looked down at him with an expression of confusion and alarm.

  “Nice t’meet cha,” he mumbled.

  “Stanley. Stanley Trumble. It’s so good to meet you. Marrying my girl… well, that’s quite an undertaking you’ve decided to undertake. She’s feisty! But you know that, right?”

  Rayfield’s lips moved silently as he tried to come up with an answer.

  “And who’s this gorgeous young lady?”

  Rachael had been trying hard to fade away into the shrubbery. Her mood improved slightly when she heard the word gorgeous being applied to her. She smiled at Mr. Trumble and said, “Rachael.”

  Stanley came over to shake her hand. “Rachael! A beautiful name for a beautiful young lady.” Rachael decided that Stanley was all right.

  “And the car!” Stanley hurried over to get a closer look at the microbus and the hundreds of stickers that covered almost every square inch of it. “There are more stickers since I saw it. Where is Perla—is she with you?”

  “No, Daddy. That’s why we’re here.” This was one of very few subjects that could wipe that moronic smile off of Joy’s face. “Can we go inside?”

  Stanley apologized profusely and ushered them into the house. They made their way into the small living room—roughly the size of Rachael’s walk-in closet at home—and Stanley put on a pot of coffee. Rayfield stood uncomfortably in the corner, examining a framed newspaper article on the wall. “Corruption in Mayor’s Office,” he said, reading the headline. “Four city officials arrested for taking bribes.”

  “That’s the article that made the mayor resign!” Joy said proudly.

  “Jocelyn Trumble,” Rayfield read. “She related to you?”

  “Rayfield!” Joy seldom got impatient with Rayfield, but there was definitely a hint of annoyance in her voice. “That’s my name!”

  Rayfield’s eyebrows shot upward as far as they could go. “Jocelyn? Really?”

  Stanley came back in from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and a big treat for Buns, who politely took it out of his hand and ran out of the room. “That was my girl’s first big article,” said Stanley, winking at his daughter. “The first one that wasn’t an advice column for pet lovers. And boy, did she make a splash with that article. Do you still have time to write, Poopsie?”

  “I’m writing a screenplay,” said Joy.

  “It’ll be a hit,” Stanley told Rayfield. He sat down and invited the others to do the same. “Now, what’s going on with Perla?”

  Joy sat him down and told him all she knew, which wasn’t a lot. When she mentioned that Rachael’s sister was likely a prisoner along with Perla, Stanley gave Rachael a pitying look. Rachael pretended to be bothered by the whole ordeal, which wasn’t much of a stretch; it would indeed bother her greatly if someone else killed her sister before she had a chance to.

  “Pictures,” Stanley said. “Did you sketch your dream? Like you did with that mystery man you kept dreaming about?”

  “His name is Ed,” said Joy. “I found him!”

  “I knew you would.”

  “And of course I drew pictures.” She pulled several folded sheets of paper out of her bag, unfolding each one carefully as she handed them to her father. “Mountains.”

  “Could be our mountains,” said Stanley, peering at the sketch through the bottom of his bifocals.

  “She’s a good artist,” Rayfield added.

  “She got that talent from her mother. Along with her good looks.”

  “Naw, sir, you’re good-looking too,” Rayfield said, then immediately looked like he wished he could un-say it.

  Joy was getting more excited. Rachael could tell by the way she bounced her leg up and down, faster and faster. “This one’s a gas station. That car is supposed to be brown. There’s something important about that brown car.”

  Stanley squinted at the drawing. “That could be anywhere.”

  “Here’s a gate with an armed guard. I couldn’t read the sign in my dream, but it had words on it.”
<
br />   Her father grunted as he examined the drawing. “U.S. Army. That’s the entrance to the Rocky Mountain Arsenal.” He looked up at Joy. “Is that where she went?”

  “I’m not sure. A lot of the dream was about a dusty road and a big, open field.” She handed him the last of her sketches. “This was the last thing.”

  “A door in the side of a hill,” he said. He held the picture close to his nose.

  “Like a Hobbit-hole,” said Rayfield.

  “Yes, just like that.” Stanley scratched his head, then got up and left the room. Rachael was getting bored; she just wanted to find her sister and get this over with. Why was it taking so long?

  “Maps!” exclaimed Stanley as he returned, carrying a stack of maps in his arms. He searched through them until he found the one he wanted, which he spread out on the floor in the middle of the room. Joy and Rayfield got down on their knees. Rachael stood behind them, hands on her hips, looking down at a map of Denver. “Right here,” said Joy’s father, “is the road to the Arsenal. There may be other ways in, but that’s the main gate.”

  “What’s in there?” Rayfield said.

  “Oh, all kinds of stuff. Weapons, explosives, chemicals, pesticides. I’m pretty sure that some of the worst chemical agents we have are kept there. One time the Army tried drilling a deep well for disposing of dangerous waste. They went down about two miles, but as soon as they started pumping waste into it, there were earthquakes. Lord only knows what they did to the groundwater around here. It’s a wonder we haven’t all started glowing in the dark and sprouting antennae.”

  Joy and Rayfield studied the map for a while. Rachael wandered off to look around. She didn’t see any sign of a woman in the house, and wondered whether Joy’s mother was still alive, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to ask. So she stayed quiet and looked at the pictures on the walls. Pictures of Joy were everywhere, and she looked just the same as a child as she did today.

  Mr. Trumble fed them sandwiches for dinner. Rayfield ate four. Joy had one. Rachael didn’t eat meat, so she had some fruit.

  “Are you feeling okay, Poopsie?” Stanley was looking at his daughter with concern. Now that he mentioned it, Rachael had noticed that Joy looked a little out of sorts. She hadn’t said much during dinner, which was very unusual for her.

  “A little yucky,” Joy replied. “Probably from being in the car so long. I’ll be fine.”

  Stanley made up two beds for his guests: one for Joy and Rachael in Joy’s old bedroom upstairs, and a sheet and blanket on the couch downstairs for Rayfield. His feet stuck out of the bottom, but he didn’t seem to mind. Rachael caught Mr. Trumble’s arm as he was about to go to his own room for the night.

  “Stanley,” she said, “is it all right if I make a phone call? My mother―”

  “Oh, sure! The phone in Joy’s room still works. Knock yourself out.”

  Rachael would have preferred to use the phone down in the kitchen, where she might have a little privacy. But it would seem strange to sneak away, so she just waited until Joy went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Then she picked up the phone and started dialing.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom,” said Rachael. “It’s me.”

  “I think you have the wrong number.”

  “It’s Rachael. I’m calling from Denver.”

  There was a long pause. “Who? Oh, Rachael. Why did you call me Mom?”

  “Yes, Mother,” Rachael said, craning her neck to see into the bathroom. Joy was almost done with her teeth. “It was a long drive, but we made it safe and sound.”

  “I didn’t ask about your drive. What are you talking about?”

  Rachael shielded the mouthpiece with her hand so no one would overhear. “Maggie,” she whispered impatiently, “you’re so stupid. Just play along.”

  “Oh. Right. Did you find her yet?”

  Rachael removed her hand and returned to a normal volume. “Almost! I think Sarah’s not far from here. In Denver. I’m going to look for her tomorrow. I’ll let you know if I find her, ’kay?”

  “You do that. Only don’t lay a finger on her until I get there. Where exactly are you?”

  She laughed, as though her mother had said something funny. “You worry too much, Mom. I’m at a friend’s house. Yeah, Joy. I’ve told you about her. Hang on, I’ll get the exact address.” Joy was on her way back into the room, toothbrush in hand. Rachael held the receiver against her chest and asked, “What’s the address here, Joy?”

  * * *

  Ed felt himself falling forward into the hole—and then something took hold of his hair, preventing him from falling in. He wobbled precariously for a moment, and then he was flung backward, away from the pit, with great force. He tumbled to the ground and hit his head hard on a rock.

  “Don’t go jumping in there,” rasped a familiar voice. Ed rubbed the spots out of his vision and looked up to see Nathaniel towering over him, his one eye blazing with a fierce red light. In this place he appeared in his old body. “No telling what happens to you down there.”

  “Why do you care?” Ed snapped. “You have Urizen. I’m no use to you anymore.”

  “I still need what you have.” Nathaniel looked up at the sky, where the clouds were growing ever darker. “Your head isn’t right,” he muttered.

  “I know.” Ed rubbed the spot he had bumped. “It’s the smoke. I’m infected.”

  This statement drew a quizzical look from Nathaniel. “Smoke?” He looked over at the hole in the ground, which was still spewing a great deal of black smoke into the air. “Interesting.”

  “It’s the infection of Urizen.”

  “It’s not,” said Nathaniel.

  Ed frowned. “Of course it is. It spreads like a disease. The people who work for him are full of the smoke.”

  Nathaniel was shaking his head. “There is no smoke. You’re imagining it.”

  Ed forced himself to look directly into that red eye. Nathaniel had lied to him in the past, manipulated him for various reasons, but there had been times when he’d told the truth. Ed had the feeling, deep in his gut, that this was one of those times. “What is it, then? What am I seeing?”

  “What Urizen wants you to see. He wants you dead, and he wants your death to be suicide. Why?”

  Ed had always found it exceedingly frustrating to talk to Nathaniel. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

  “Ask him,” he repeated, as though it was a completely new idea to him. “I’ll do that. As soon as he gets here, I’ll ask him.” Then he tilted his head to examine Ed at a different angle. “If he wants you dead, then I want you alive. Where are you going?”

  For the last minute or so, Ed had been trying to decide whether he should leap into the hole or return to his physical body. He had just decided on the latter, and was in the middle of vanishing when something stopped him from going. It was Nathaniel, he realized, holding him here by sheer force of will. Ed teetered for a moment, halfway between the forest and his body, before Nathaniel overpowered him and kept him from leaving. “Didn’t know you could do that,” he grumbled.

  “That was rude,” Nathaniel said. “I was talking. Do you know where Doris is?”

  Sarah, Ed almost said, but there was no point in correcting him. “I haven’t seen her in months,” he said warily.

  “I know where she is,” said Nathaniel. He looked to his left, toward the forest, but Ed had a feeling he was looking at something only Nathaniel could see, something he was looking at with his real eyes in the physical world.

  Ed felt his entire body go cold. He thought of Sarah, then of Eleanor, then Sarah again. It was hard to think of one without the other. He loved them both. “What have you done?”

  “She’s here with me. Safe and sound. Do you want to see her?”

  Nathaniel’s red stare was almost more than Ed could bear to look at. “Yes,” he said after swallowing hard.

  “Then come see her. She’s in my house.”

  It was becoming increasingly difficul
t not to leap on top of Nathaniel and choke him, but that wouldn’t do much good. “I don’t know where that is.”

  “That’s easy! I’ll tell you. If you promise one thing. Will you promise?”

  “I don’t know,” said Ed. “Tell me what I’m promising.”

  “Promise to come alone. No friend. I don’t like him. If you promise to come by yourself, I’ll tell you where to find me. If you break your promise…” He smiled wide and clicked his teeth together twice, like he was biting through something. “Come stay with me and I’ll let her go.”

  From the grin on his face, Ed could tell that Nathaniel was holding something back. “What else?”

  “Nothing else.”

  “If you’ve hurt her, I’ll figure out a way to kill you.”

  Nathaniel thought that was funny. “You won’t care so much after I make you forget. You won’t think about Doris at all.”

  That didn’t sound like an ideal arrangement, but Ed didn’t see that he had any other options. For Sarah, he would do whatever he had to. He would go to Nathaniel and think of a plan later.

  “So,” Nathaniel said. “Do you promise?”

  Ed sighed. “Yes.”

  38

  Novus

  Perla finally understood what the hum was for. As she sat in her cell, day after day, it sapped her brainpower and made her feel stupid. Perla had always prided herself on her ability to think her way out of any difficult situation. Now, worn down by the hum, she felt dull and her thoughts were slow to form. This must be how the men in blue were controlled: by reducing their brains to gelatinous goo.

  They were being subjected to some kind of mind-control; that much was clear to her. There appeared to be two groups of Horsemen living underground. Half the men were perfectly loyal to Nathaniel, and served in positions of authority. Their eyes were cold and empty. The others were different. They wore the same blue clothes and deferred to Nathaniel, but they also wore metal collars around their necks that flashed with little red lights. In their eyes there was an empty look, like they had no brains inside their heads. They looked broken. The loyal men watched them closely, but Perla never saw any sign that these broken Horsemen had it in them to do anything other than what they were told to do.