The band’s version of Hail to the Chief wasn’t very good, and the trumpeter hit some notes that I didn’t think were actual notes, but the President didn’t wince as he mounted the stage and approached the podium.
People began to clap. McCurdy glanced at me while he brought his hands together. I clapped, but it was half-hearted. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.
Chapter 20
Play That Funky Music, White Boy…
Out of the corner of my eye I saw another figure moving into the crowd. He didn’t seem all that different from all the rest, but my gaze was tugged to him. He was dressed in black tie and tux, but his hair was long and flowed wildly over his shoulders. His skin looked darker than the copper penny shade I had seen before. His eyes were pitch circles. If anyone else looked at him, they should have been able to tell he wasn’t human, but I don’t think anyone was looking for the obvious.
Bansi was here in this place, in a place that he was likely drawn to, like the place in Colorado. It was a place where technology had been nurtured and cultivated. Knowledge had been born in this place. “Technology, you see, is borne of magic, just as everything in this universe.” I only had to repeat it a gazillion times before it started to make sense.
Bansi raised a flute of champagne toward me in a macabre salute.
My mouth opened and shut.
Bansi did what Harry did. He winked at me. An obvious, slow wink so that I would never misunderstand.
What the hell was the god/prestidigitator/walking thing constructed of frogs and snails and puppy dog tails doing here?
“There was a point I was trying to make to you,” I turned back to McCurdy, struggling for the words to come out of my mouth. There was a miniscule part of me that was hoping McCurdy wasn’t the big bad evil villain and that Bansi was a delusion. Perhaps, it was more than merely hope. Perhaps, it was genuine confusion that sought understanding mixed with hope. But it was a stupid miniscule part of me, and it didn’t really have that much hope.
McCurdy glanced at me. The President waved at people while the song played on. In another moment, the band would stop and people would clap some more. Maston waited patiently, as if he had been well-versed in waiting for the enthusiasm and acceptance of people to wane so that he could speak his brand of politicking.
“What’s that?”
“This could still be a nation made up of different beings,” I said. “It doesn’t have to be retaken at the cost of alienating those who, for all you know, were here first.”
“They weren’t here first. They’re not Native Americans,” McCurdy protested vehemently. “I remember what you said about General Scott and the Trail of Tears.” The last part was said scoffingly.
“I’ve been reading about legends and myths,” I said forcefully. A few nearby people started and glanced at me. “There’s always a grain of truth in stories like that. You ought to know that just as well as I do. Some of these beings were here long before us, and they may be here long after us. They didn’t invade. They were brought here by magic or a higher calling or something I can’t define. We cannot treat them as subservient. We can’t lock them in a cage in order to persuade humans to do something. We would be making similar mistakes that the United States of America has made before. We shouldn’t be doomed to repeat the past,” I repeated emphatically to drive it home. If my words had been nails, they would have pounded into the direct center of McCurdy’s forehead.
McCurdy watched the President, not responding to me. His mouth was a flattened line. I don’t know if it was because he didn’t like me or what I was saying. After a moment, he put his flute of champagne on a passing waiter’s tray. “Are you staying for the speech, Miss Moore?”
“I’m staying,” I said. I heard the unspoken message. I didn’t look around. I needed a little time. I didn’t quite understand how, but the people I had touched were coming to my assistance. It had been a cloudy part of my vision, the one that had included Lulu, a blue dress, and a lot of blood. They didn’t know what I intended. I didn’t know what I intended.
But I was going to find out where the new animals were being kept.
“Flowers,” I sang, “can you find the others? Can you find the ones who’ve been taken?”
“The sisters are unsure,” Flowers sang back. “Their trail is broken up. Their minds are unclear.”
“I need you to try.”
Flowers sang to the others. She came back to my ear and sang, “But who will protect Soophee?”
“Soophee will protect herself,” I sang. “Go.”
A small mass of green luminescence rose into a controlled pack and moved toward the northeast. As I watched, they deliberately moved around the perimeter of the Naval Observatory.
McCurdy watched the firefly pixies with veiled amusement. “They don’t like the party?”
“I’d rather keep them out of temptation’s path,” I said shortly. You shouldn’t underestimate them because they’re tiny, I thought.
“Come on,” he motioned at me. “Let’s get a little closer. Corbin’s going to give his speech, and you’ll want a good listen.” McCurdy was using the President’s first name. That was always a good sign. Not.
McCurdy offered his arm to me as if I was a lady he was to escort. I rested a hand on the white cloth there and went along with it. I wanted to be closer to the President.
We moved through the crowd. Dimly, I realized there had to be hundreds of people present. It was surreal; after fighting to find one person for months, there could be this many humans in one place. It was more than surreal. They would be yanked away from me in some wretched, fantastical manner, and I wouldn’t ever wake up from the nightmare.
As we got to the foot of the stage, the President waved his hand to cut off the remainder of the people from clapping. The band immediately stopped playing, and the rest of the noise died away.
“My fellow Americans,” Maston said compellingly, his voice a harbinger of things to come. It was cultivated and rich with charismatic intent. “You are my friends,” the voice implied, “and I’m just going to talk a little with my friends.” There was another spontaneous round of enthusiastic applause. Maston waited and said again, “My fellow Americans, ladies, gentlemen, and beings that we did not properly appreciate before the events of the night we changed forever, I have spoken to many of you before but never on such a momentous juncture. We come together as a nation of individuals, as a set of people who have lost everything and undergone the greatest of challenges. There is not one among us who can say that a loved one still survives. There is not one of us who doesn’t feel the pain that has come from tremendous alteration.” He broadcasted his voice across a now-silent audience. He used his hands as guiding devices to emphasize his points. People were transfixed, and I didn’t blame for that. He was enthralling. “Never before has it meant so much to be so few.” He paused, and I could tell he was waiting for his words to sink into the engrossed spectators. “We are not alone in our grand new world. We have the new, the unusual, the legendary.” His right hand motioned.
In a roll of purest silence, the hippogriff walked out into a bright ring of torchlight. Oki looked around apprehensively, and the wings on her back quivered uncertainly. She stopped in the center of the light and revealed herself as one of those that had been previously only legend. Her magnificent shape took up the space, and her eagle-like head slowly panned around her, seeking, searching.
I heard a gasp and knew it was Prosper as he saw his friend. Oki wasn’t chained, but she wasn’t there voluntarily. She had been threatened. I wondered how Maston had accomplished that communication without me, but it couldn’t have been difficult to convey the notion to the new animal.
“‘Look on my works, ye mighty,’” Maston quoted.
“I don’t think he read the rest of that poem,” I muttered, and I felt the muscles in McCurdy’s arm clench.
The hippogriff caught my eye, and she stared at me with large black eyes. Her wings extended
as if she was stretching them. The bluish wings trembled for a moment and then retracted. I shook my head minutely, and her head dipped.
“We can work together and accomplish so much,” Maston boomed. There must have been a drama class in his college repertoire, or possibly two. He’d been on a stage before, and hey, not even a microphone in sight! “We can come together as a new nation under God. We need not fear that which we don’t understand.”
By threatening and kidnapping. Oh yeah, that’s right. Let’s all act like common hoodlums. That’ll get it done.
I moved my head and incrementally examined the area. The President stood on the stage with bodyguards on either end. He was on the edge of where the gate had been, standing on the inside of the Naval Observatory. He talked about cooperation and majesty and coming together. His hands motioned with his words. I was close enough that I saw the watch on his wrist. I didn’t know what kind it was, but it was expensive. It had a huge face and all the little dials on it. One for the moon’s stages. One for the day of the week. And one for the seconds.
Maston gestured at something. He held the arm with the watch still for a long moment, and I saw the second hand move. It was all by itself, the way a second hand was supposed to move in a world before the change.
I could see it in my head, like a movie that was playing on a DVD player. This place had been a bubble of technology that had survived, Bansi had broadly hinted. One night in August the world had been at peace. Something had happened. When the people who had been left inside the bubble realized that the exterior world was bizarre and unanticipated, some of them left the bubble. An average man, I visualized in my mind, trapped but not aware of his dilemma. He was wearing a suit because he worked for the government in some capacity. Like a billion other humans, he was a man without any hint of psychic ability. He stepped through the veil between the bubble and the changed world, and the part of the man that went outside vanished. Limbs that appeared sliced by some ghastly weapon fell to the ground on the inside. They had lain there as the days passed, one of many, decaying, unclaimed, ignored.
Good God, it must have been horrifying. And others wouldn’t have understood. Others probably followed, going to the gate was a logical pathway. They might have driven a car through, avoiding the gates and the single squad car parked there. The trees on the opposite side of the gate were ragged and the bark battered. A vehicle went through the gate and all the occupants simply…vanished. They didn’t know, and nothing could have showed them. The empty and abruptly nonworking car had crashed into those trees and had been removed later.
Until at last, there were only a few people left in the bubble. Corbin Maston was one. Still later, a naval lieutenant who had been a survivor had come looking for a leader. Perhaps, he had been to the Capitol. Perhaps, he had been to the White House. Checking the Naval Observatory was a matter of systematic diligence. Thus, Maston had stepped up to the plate. But they couldn’t let everyone know about their secret.
It was possible that Maston could step outside that technological circle into the fantasy world we now lived in. It was possible that he might even survive. It was more likely that he would vanish like all of the others. But why keep it a secret?
“We’ve seen these creatures before,” Maston boomed. “And they have their links with us. This hippogriff and the boy who is her friend are examples. These will be our ambassadors in our new world.”
But where was the boy? Were people so naïve that they wouldn’t ask those questions? Yes, they were.
Prosper came to my side, and I reached out with my free arm and rested it along his shoulders. McCurdy tensed, but I dug my fingers into his forearm.
“Hypocrite!”
There was an abrupt silence that could have cut through the neck of a French aristocrat in the 18th century. People glanced around. There were murmurs from the back. I sensed the movement of bodyguards and soldiers.
I didn’t have to look around to know who had spoken.
“How can they be your friends when you’ve mistreated them? When you’ve gone back on your word? When you’ve imprisoned them?” The questions came out of my mouth, and I couldn’t have bitten them back even if I had wanted to do so.
McCurdy shook my hand off. I stepped into the light with the hippogriff, and the head of the beast nudged Prosper. He bent and wrapped his skinny arms around Oki’s neck. She made a purring noise. The wings fluttered in minute glee.
I could see the rage on Maston’s face. He hadn’t expected hecklers to be present at his impressively grand speech. There hadn’t been dissent except from the people he was imprisoning, and they weren’t here. People had been happy to find a government that was working even scarcely. They had wanted someone to tell them that all was well, that all would be returned to normal. There wasn’t supposed to be those who would argue or would question his decisions. The President motioned at McCurdy, and McCurdy took a step toward me.
“Wait!” someone yelled. “What about that? What about imprisoned animals? Or is it people?”
I didn’t see who it was, but I think it was the girl with the green hair and the green snake.
“Obviously, there’s a slight minority that will want to—” Maston started to say.
“Liar!” another person yelled.
Anarchy now. My parents would be so proud.
“Where are the animals and the humans you’ve locked up?” I demanded. McCurdy put his hand on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off.
Mario and Jack waded through the throng toward me. I could see that mirrored sunglasses were still on his face despite the fact that it was full evening. Jack had upgraded from a hoodie to an ill-fitting suit. I had only seconds.
“Tell them the rest!” I shouted. “Tell them what you’ve hidden!”
Mario grasped my upper arm and jerked me around. I saw horrified faces all around me. Some of them I knew. Lulu was struggling with someone else, trying to get across to me. There was a discomforted murmur passing through the gathered people. I might not have gotten what I wanted, but I had sown a seed of discontent.
“People, people, people!” Maston said soothingly. The murmurs died away as Jack took my other arm. I turned my head toward Maston. If his people had been smart, they would have taken me away immediately, but they weren’t, so I stayed. “Administrations will always have people who disagree,” the President broadcasted with his captivating voice. “It’s part of our nation’s great history. We live in a place where people can speak their minds freely.”
“But God forbid, they don’t do what you want!” I bellowed, and Mario backhanded me across my face. I felt my teeth cut into the inside of my cheek, and I barely heard a series of shocked gasps. Jack caught my other arm again and kept me from going to the ground. My head returned to an upright position with an ugly smile. I took a moment to spit out a mouthful of blood at my feet.
Even Maston was visibly dismayed, but it wasn’t because Mario had hit me, it was because he had done it in front of his constituents. Big mistake, bubba.
“Apparently, we can’t speak our minds!” someone yelled, and I realized it was Stephen from the train. Good. More dissent.
“What’s the story about the animals and the people you’ve taken away?” someone else shouted and I recognized Craig, the train engineer. “Why are you not allowing Sophie to speak? She saved our lives and has done more for us than any person. She’s taken risks. Why should you shut her up?”
“No one is shutting anyone up,” Maston pacified.
The crowd was getting unruly. Good thing the soldiers had taken away their weapons. But there were other soldiers on the other side of the fence, and I knew what that meant.
“National security!” the President suddenly yelled. “Everything we do is for a reason,” he added in a more reasonable tone. “Unfortunately, I cannot explain every reason to all of the people because we’re on a precarious edge. We now live in a world with uncertainty, and we have to have solidarity in order to persist, in order
to thrive.” People ceased their agitated whispering to listen. Some of them were still eager for any kind of justification.
Mario yanked on my arm, trying to lead me through the audience. Jack tugged, too. In a moment, they would simply pick me up and carry me away. Stomping on their feet with my combat boots wasn’t going to help me this time, although I had a brief non-precognitive vision of applying my boot to Mario’s face.
There was an abrupt growl that echoed through the area. Silence ensued once again as people froze in place. Oki and Prosper were both standing between us and the nearest way out of the gathered spectators. Oki was the one growling, and it sounded like a mix between a hiss and a roar. Her head was down in the manner of a maddened dog, and her wings were straight lines to the back. Her tail whipped back and forth. Prosper’s young face was equally prepared for violence. He balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to do whatever he needed to do to walk away from the fight to come.
No one was going to remove me.
Mario immediately dropped my arm. Jack was a little slower.
Around us, shapes began to emerge from the darkness. I saw Horse first, with his turquoise eyes glowing in the torchlight. Meka stood beside his friend, his hand on his crossbow. I hadn’t realized a horse-like animal could look forbidding, but he pulled it off, and Meka was no slouch as he glowered at the group around us.
There was the screech of the argopelters, and the boy who lived with them stepped out of the deepest shadows. Their hands were full of rocks, and I didn’t doubt that there were more in the trees around us.
Spot materialized from one side. His head was canted. The goggles were missing and his neon yellow eyes were huge. His tiny wings flickered in agitation. Harry stepped beside the animal and rested a hand on his back.
Others appeared. The great green snake. A creature that was Medusa’s cousin. Animals that I didn’t have a name for. There were dozens and more. The night was full of them.
Mountains of Dreams Page 20