by Bryan Davis
Nathan rose to his feet and helped Jack the rest of the way up. “I'm guessing I'm the healer they talked about, and I have to seal a crack in a womb, or something like that, to get you out of here.”
After straightening out his fedora, Jack laid it gingerly on his head. “I can't help you with what all that means, but it sounds like you'll be learning a lot as you go.”
“Too much, I think. Maybe I should get Kelly's help. She's always been able to interpret —”
Music played from somewhere nearby, interrupting his thought. The thrumming beat of a bass drum accompanied a sweet composition of strings, the same piece that had bridged the gap between Earths Blue and Yellow at the observatory — Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. This time the fourth movement played on invisible instruments, and soon a host of voices trilled the German lyrics of “Ode to Joy.”
Nathan let the mesmerizing beauty wash over him. The last time something like this happened in a dream, Mozart's Requiem had painted the air with a Latin hymn of sadness and comfort, words that he could easily translate. But these lyrics were unfamiliar. He had never learned German or studied the poem that had inspired Beethoven to pen this masterpiece.
He glanced at Kelly, still asleep on the mattress. “Excuse me a minute.”
“Certainly,” Jack said, touching the brim of his hat.
Nathan walked over and gave Kelly a gentle nudge. She yawned, sat up, and stretched her arms, but a copy of her body still lay in bed, unmoved and still clutching his hand.
“Is this a dream?” she asked.
“Pretty sure.” He pointed at her sleeping body. “Unless you have a clone.”
She grinned. “That's cool. I can talk to you while I'm resting.”
“It looks that way, but …” He paused, not quite sure how to express his doubts.
“But what?”
“I'll buy that a vision stalker can enter someone's thoughts while he's sleeping. But two people dreaming the same dream? It doesn't make sense.”
She spoke while stretching into another yawn. “You don't believe Francesca?”
“Her father never remembered the dreams,” Nathan said. “She was the gifted one, so they were probably just hers.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but a sweet smile accompanied her gesture. “Just dream on, Nathan.”
He nodded toward Jack. “Recognize him?”
“Uh-huh.” She blinked several times. “I like this dream. I can see clearly.” She waved at Jack.
“He can't see you. Mictar took his eyes.”
She squinted to get a better view. “Good thing he's only part of a dream.”
“I'm not so sure.”
He took her hand, and the two walked toward the mirror where Jack stood, worrying his hat again with his fingers. “I hear the young lady,” he said, nodding.
Kelly touched one of the scorch marks on Jack's brow and grimaced. “I know how much it hurts.”
“I could tell you the story,” Nathan said, “but if this is all a stupid dream of mine, it would be a waste of time.”
Kelly frowned. “It's not just your—”
The mirror flashed again. The reflection transformed into a furnished bedroom, brighter and devoid of the broken scatterings left behind by the battle between the stalkers. A fully-dressed bed sat on the far side, and a desk and chair abutted the adjacent wall. Several posters hung on the painted surface, featuring basketball players in graceful stop-action poses. One was obviously Michael Jordan flying through the air in a North Carolina uniform, but the others were unfamiliar.
Kelly rattled off the players' names. “Magic Johnson, Michael Jordan, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, James Worthy—”
“Okay, okay. I get the picture. You don't have to show off.”
“I'm just proving something. If this were your dream, you wouldn't know the players, so I couldn't tell you who they were.”
“Maybe I know them in my subconscious mind. I've heard all those names before.”
“True, but —” With a sudden thrust, she pointed at the mirror. “Nathan, look at the wall next to the stack of soda cans!”
He searched the image. A violin bow hung from hooks on the wall, stretching across the room from one end to the other. The door in the reflection opened, and a young man stepped in. After adding a Pepsi can to the top of his pyramid, he turned on a television atop a dresser and flopped on the bed.
Kelly gasped. “My father!”
“Are you sure?”
“He's younger, but I've seen pictures. That's him all right.”
“But why would we be seeing him?” Nathan asked. “What's the point?”
Kelly hovered her hand over the glass. “If this is Earth Yellow, and he's already made the bow, maybe we should flash a light and go there.”
“But it won't work if I'm just dreaming this.”
Kelly set her hands on her hips. “What's it going to take to convince you that I'm really dreaming this, too?”
“I didn't mean that. I was just saying if it's only a dream, then how can we—”
Jack tugged on Nathan's sleeve. “If I may offer an opinion?”
“Sure. What do you think?”
“Instead of merely arguing about whose dream this is, perhaps you could do as I have done and offer evidence. When you awaken, you can compare what you have dreamed to what you find in reality.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “My own dream is giving me advice. What next?”
The mirror suddenly darkened. Kelly's father disappeared, along with the bed, cans, and bow. A familiar face and form took shape. With eyes glowing reddish brown and a matching calf-length dress of unadorned cloth coating her body in red, Scarlet set her hands on the inside barrier. “I have been waiting for you, Nathan.”
His throat clamped shut. Her startling beauty and haunting voice sent a jolt through his entire body, stiffening his limbs.
Kelly let her arms fall to her side. “Is that Scarlet?”
Scarlet turned and cast her gaze on Kelly. “Nathan, I am glad to see that you have brought the interpreter. There is a brightness in her spirit that will serve you well.”
Nathan held back a wince. Kelly might not like the “serve you” part. Then again, if she wasn't dreaming with him, she wouldn't care. She was just a figment. Yet, since Scarlet was able to penetrate dreams, she was probably really there. Why would she mention Kelly if Kelly weren't real?
Scarlet turned back to Nathan. “Ah! I hear the great ode. Do you know the words? They speak now of your oneness with your friend!”
Nathan cocked his head to listen again. “It's in German. I never learned German.”
“I hear English,” Kelly said. “It's beautiful.”
Scarlet's smile seemed to light up the room. “Then speak the ode, interpreter. Let your beloved hear the words of truth.”
Kelly nodded with the music's rhythm and translated the German phrases.
Whoever succeeds in the great attempt
To be a friend of a friend,
Whoever has won a lovely woman,
Let him add his jubilation!
“Yes,” Scarlet chirped. “It is jubilation to win the heart of a faithful woman. And now I will sing another truth to you, Nathan Paul Shepherd, for you have won my heart, and I will be faithful to you as long as I live.” Moving her hand in a wide circle over the mirror, she sang in a lovely alto.
The circle of music, eternal and blessed,
The key to salvation where mortals find rest;
To find the right portal to seek what was lost
And journey to danger, you must count the cost.
For hearts will be humbled and lives will be spent.
A brave one will fall in the endless descent,
And sight will be lost while perception is gained.
The free will be bound and all captives unchained.
The stalker appearing will show you the square,
Then take care to follow, yet heed my sad prayer.
The journey will force you to
choose whom you love;
The bright one, the sad one, the creed, or the dove.
As the tune faded away, Scarlet faded with it, her melancholy eyes leaving a residual glow. A wisp of a voice trailed away like a distant echo. “Come for me, Nathan. I will be waiting.”
Seconds later, a new form replaced her lovely visage. A tall, pallid stalker approached the mirror from a distance, his ankles surrounded by a white cloud, as if he had just marched out from the misty world.
Kelly grabbed Nathan's arm and pulled him close. “Is that Mictar or Patar?”
“Patar,” Nathan replied. Then, lowering his voice, he added, “I hope.”
As the white-haired man drew near, he slowed, dragging something behind him. His load resembled a human body, but shadows covered the face.
Patar turned his head, perhaps intentionally, just enough to show that he lacked a ponytail. He stopped and stared at Nathan, his eyes pulsing red. “Son of Solomon!” His voice echoed throughout the room. “When will you learn not to trifle with the power of Quattro?”
Nathan gulped. “What … what do you mean?”
As the dead body swayed under his tight fist, Patar's voice deepened and rolled into a prophetic cadence. “While worlds hang in the balance, you are toying with emotions. While terrified children seek rescue from death, you are playing house with those fair of face and capturing their fragile hearts.”
“But I'm not. I'm just—”
With a lightning fast thrust, Patar jerked the body forward and shoved it close to the mirror.
Kelly covered her eyes with her hands. “Oh, dear God!”
Nathan stared at the macabre sight, a face stretched out and hanging by the hair from Patar's powerful grip. With blackened, vacant eye sockets, a warped reflection of Nathan's own face stared back at him — Nathan Blue, his mouth agape in a silent scream.
Nausea boiled in Nathan's stomach, and his mouth dried out. He couldn't say a word.
Patar lowered Nathan Blue's head but kept a grip on his hair. With his other hand, he pointed directly at Nathan. “If you continue to attend to the trivial and neglect the essential, you will join your counterpart in the agony of the endless void. Your lack of wisdom will not only allow interfinity to come, it will accelerate its arrival.”
Fighting back fear, Nathan squared his shoulders. “Why didn't you just give it to me straight before? Maybe I wouldn't have wasted so much time.”
“I told you to play the violin. Was my command unclear? You have your own mother's testimony to its existence. The bow is ready, yet you are sleeping with your girlfriend in a world not your own.”
Nathan's face grew hot. He felt caught, naked, ashamed. What could he have been thinking? Was Patar right? Should he have waited in Earth Yellow until the bow was ready?
Balling his fists, he tried to rally his defenses, but they seemed weak, even in his own mind. “I had to come back and study the photos, then we came here to look for —”
“Your parents.” Patar nodded, and his voice took on a sarcastic tone. “I know. I know your reasoning all too well.” A semi-transparent image floated in the background— Nathan and Kelly sleeping hand in hand. Patar scowled. “I can see for myself what you are really doing.”
Nathan kicked the wall. It hurt, but he tried to hide the pain. “I wanted to find my parents so I could get some straightforward advice, not the runaround you always give me!”
“Finding and playing the violin was straightforward enough,” Patar said. “A thorough explanation would seem foolish to you, and if I were to provide you with the simplest solution, you would ignore my counsel.”
Nathan shouted, “Try me!”
Patar laughed. “Your arrogance dresses you in a clown's garb, son of Solomon, if you think you know the crisis or its solution better than I. Trust me. You will despise my counsel.”
“Then prove it. Show me that I'm a fool. Better that than for me to run around the dimensions like a chicken with its head cut off …” He bit his lip. That was exactly what Mictar had called him. After taking a deep breath, he pointed at the body hanging from Patar's grip. “Better than ending up like the other Nathan.”
A smile widened the stalker's pale face. “Very well. I will prove it. Here is the simplest solution.” He drew closer to the mirror, so close, his eyes took up most of a square. His voice dropped to a low bass. “To heal the wounds and bring the crisis to an end, return to the place you call the misty world and …” He paused, his smile vanishing. “And slay the supplicants.”
Patar's words sucked every ounce of air from Nathan's lungs. He could only gasp his reply. “What? You can't be serious!”
“You heard me. Slay them and cast their bodies into Sarah's Womb, and harmony will be restored. Although we pity their wretched estate, we cannot allow emotions to cloud our thinking. They must die.”
Nathan took two steps back. “But I can't … I can't kill them!”
Patar's smile returned. “I have done as you requested and given you a straightforward command. You despised it and played the fool, exactly as I predicted. If you wish to disbelieve me, there is nothing more I can tell you. You are free to follow the other option, to find the violin and play it, but that path is far more treacherous.”
His legs now weak, Nathan shuffled back to the mirror. “What about the circle of fifths? Scarlet said you'd let us know how to find the key.”
“As I said earlier, you are unwise to trifle with the power of Quattro. I am aware of the song of that doomed supplicant.
Her plaintive cries will not avail her.” Patar stroked his narrow chin for a moment. “Yet, I will again do what you ask and give you enough information to locate the key you are seeking … if you have enough wisdom to find it.”
Patar sang a low C for at least five seconds, switched to a short E so high the window pane vibrated, then, touching mirror squares in turn, he sang various notes in rapid succession. Each square flashed with a unique color as he touched it, and the note continued to play from the glass, carrying a vibrato that made it shimmer. When he finished, the entire room blazed with colors that danced on the walls as if celebrating the pulsing music.
Shifting his gaze back to Nathan, Patar bobbed his head as if listening to the song he had created. It certainly was captivating and beautiful, yet, even with the extraordinary flood of musical notes, Beethoven's ode still broke through.
“Interpreter!” Patar said, pointing at Kelly. “Interpret the great song! The son of Solomon must hear the brilliance of the poet's message, the one that enchanted Beethoven himself.”
Trembling, Kelly cleared her throat and spoke.
Be embraced, you millions!
This kiss for the whole world!
Brothers, beyond the star canopy
Must a loving Father dwell.
Do you bow down, you millions?
Do you sense the Creator, world?
Seek Him beyond the star canopy!
Beyond the stars must He dwell.
The words ended. Patar's frown deepened as he continued. “Heed what you have heard, son of Solomon. You will find what you seek beyond the stars, but if you wish to save the cosmos that bears them on its shoulders, you must carry out the task I have set before you. Kill the supplicants, throw their bodies into the womb, and all will be healed. Yet, if you choose the alternative path and reach the fabric beyond the star canopy, I can no longer give you advice. It is fraught with danger, and even I cannot tell what you must do to avoid a fatal step.”
Nathan spread out his hands. “But why all the puzzles? Why can't you just tell me where the key is?”
“To protect your life. If you lack the wisdom to find the key, you will surely lack the wisdom to safely follow the alternative path. The wisest of all decisions would be to sacrifice the supplicants, but since you have allowed one to romance your heart, I doubt that you are clear minded enough to make that choice.”
With that, Patar vanished, and the mirror darkened, leaving only a reflection
of the room, no song, no colors, no music. A glow from a yard lantern outside provided the only light in the room.
Nathan raised his hand and searched for his fingers in the mirror. No sign of his or Kelly's reflections, nor Jack's, who stood staring into nothingness.
Looking deeper into the image, Nathan found two bodies, his own on the floor and Kelly's on the mattress. The sleeping Kelly trembled, clutching Nathan's hand tightly.
He squeezed Jack's shoulder. “I'll try to figure out how to save you, but I'll have to wake up to do it.”
Jack fumbled for Nathan's hand and shook it heartily. “I will be waiting.”
Nathan guided Kelly back to the bed. “I think I've had enough of this dream.”
“You don't know German,” she said.
They each sat down, their legs melding with the legs of their sleeping bodies. “Right. What's that got to do with anything?”
“This is my dream,” she said. “You couldn't have translated.”
“And I never told you my middle name before.”
“Paul?”
He lowered his head. “Okay. I was being stubborn, but it will help me believe it for sure if we test the theory. When we wake up, you tell me my middle name, and I'll know you were sentient in my dream, and I'll tell you the names of the basketball players.”
She nodded. “Fair enough.”
Nathan lay down, blending his two bodies into one. Kelly did the same, and the two dreamers joined hands to mimic their physical forms.
12
FINDING RED IN YELLOW
As the dream ended, Nathan's mind fell into blackness, then a ringing sound stirred his senses. He awoke and sat up. Angled rays of sunshine flowed in from the window. Was it morning?
The ringing sounded again, a telephone. Nathan patted his pocket. His cell was still there, but that wasn't making the noise. He jumped up and bounded out of the room, following the rings. He finally found a wall-mounted phone in the kitchen and snatched up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Nathan. It's Daryl Blue. I couldn't get you on the cell, and it took us forever to find this phone number. It's not in the book, and they must've changed it when Kelly died.”
