Blue Noon m-3

by Scott Westerfeld

  “Sure thing, Spider-Man,” Melissa called, waving goodbye.

  Jessica watched the two of them disappear into the trees, wondering at how pliant and sleepy Cassie had become after Melissa had taken her hand. Maybe it was only shock, the poor girl overwhelmed after everything that happened. But Madeleine had suppressed Dess’s memories with only a touch too.

  Melissa was growing in power every day. Jessica wondered what she could do if she got really pissed off at someone.

  “So, Jessica, you ready to fly home?” Jonathan asked.

  She looked at Rex. He still seemed shaky, as if it had been a close thing tonight.

  “Will you guys be safe, Rex?”

  He nodded. “Sure. I’ll stick around and see if there’s any lore sites around here. Or any other clues about this place. I think you ruined the darklings’ party, for the rest of the hour at least. And Dess here has…”

  “Magisterially Supernumerary Mathematician,” she said, hefting the spear proudly.

  “But what about your car, Jonathan?” Jessica said.

  He shrugged. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”

  “I can drive it into town!” Dess offered.

  “I don’t think so,” Jonathan said.

  Dess snorted and prodded his ribs with the point of Supernumerary.

  Jessica stood there, rubbing her wounded hand and thinking glum thoughts. They had saved a young girl tonight, but in payment for the rescue the memory of the most amazing experience in Cassie’s life would be erased forever. And Cassie Flinders was only the beginning. If the blue time was tearing, more unlucky people were likely to step into the secret hour, where hungry monsters waited for them. And possibly normal time itself was coming to an end.

  Worst of all, Beth was probably waiting in Jessica’s room right now, ready to unleash holy fury when she got home.

  “You know what?” Jessica said. “You can drive me back after the secret hour’s over.”

  Jonathan frowned at her, rubbing at the middle of his back. “What about curfew?”

  “I’ll risk it. You guys do all the time.”

  “What about Beth? I told her eighteen minutes.”

  “I’ll risk her too.”

  “But what—?”

  “Jonathan, you don’t have to take me home yet, okay?” She took his hands, felt weightlessness flow into her. “This whole night has sucked so far. Maybe we could just do some flying? Real flying, out in the open. We can take our time getting me home.”

  His frown faded, and a smile spread slowly across his face.

  “Take our time getting home?” Dess said with a smirk. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  Rex chuckled softly.

  Jessica ignored them. The heart-pounding panic of the slither attack had erased the mutual irritation between them on the subject of little sisters. And although what he’d said about liking Beth had been maddening at the time, right now it seemed kind of sweet.

  “Come on. Let’s fly somewhere together,” she said. She massaged her shoulder. “Now that we’re not getting pelted with slithers.”

  “Well,” he said after a moment’s thought, “have you ever seen the river?”

  “The Arkansas?” Jessica shrugged. “Just from the bridge on the way over here.”

  “You haven’t seen the Arkansas River till you’ve seen it in the secret hour,” Jonathan said. “Motionless water, excellent for skipping rocks.”

  “Oh, cool.” For a moment she tried to figure out how the laws of motion would apply, but her new physics lobe quickly gave up. “So how does that work?”

  Jonathan smiled again, his brown eyes flashing in the light of the dark moon. “It’s kind of tricky to explain. But you get a lot more skips than on regular water. Swimming’s fun too.”

  “Okay,” Jessica said. “I could use some fun.”

  “Come on, then. I’ll show you.”

  Jonathan offered her his hand, and she took it.

  “You kids have fun now,” Dess called.

  “Okay,” Jessica said. “See you, Rex.”

  The seer only nodded, his hands still shaking. Even in the blue light she could tell his face was ashen. What had happened to him before they’d arrived? And why had the darkling run away while she was still finding her way here, if its minions were sacrificing themselves to hold her up?

  She shook her head. Evidently Rex and Melissa were still keeping secrets from the rest of them.

  They leapt up and over the trees, finding their way back to the railroad bed and then across Jenks, until Jessica could see the glimmer of the river in the distance. From the air it looked like a giant slither winding its way down from the black hills, glowing with the cold light of the dark moon.

  “You know,” Jonathan said as they flew. “Maybe it’s better for Cassie. Forgetting about all this.”

  “Maybe. Doesn’t seem fair, though.”

  “Sure, but think about how much it would scare a kid like that. Knowing about all these weird creatures crawling across her while she’s frozen for an hour every night?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Jessica said. “I mean, it scares me, and I’m the all-powerful flashlight-bringer.”

  “And on top of the fear factor, everyone would think she was totally crazy. Eventually, since she’ll never see the blue time again after all, she’d probably decide they were right.”

  They landed on a stretch of not-quite beach, a narrow strip of dry earth dotted with patches of scrubby grass. The river stretched out before them, motionless wavelets glittering like scales made of diamond, reflecting a shattered image of the dark moon.

  It was beautiful, but Jessica shivered.

  “Not cold, are you?”

  “No. It’s always warm here.” She shook her head. “I was just wondering if Cassie might see the blue time again. I mean, what if Dess is right? What if the secret hour swallows all of Bixby—or even the whole world—forever? And everyone gets sucked through, like Cassie was? Suddenly cars and electricity don’t work, and people can’t even make fires anymore. Only five of us on the whole planet know anything about using thirteen-letter words and stainless steel to protect ourselves. What happens then?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Then I’ll come get you, wherever you are when it happens. We’ll be okay.”

  “But what about everybody else?”

  He stared out across the river, nodding slowly. “My guess is, everybody else is in big trouble.”

  9

  7:15 A.M.

  MISS TRUST

  At the kitchen door the next morning Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe for a few more minutes—Beth wasn’t up yet.

  “Morning, Jess. Toast?”

  Jessica checked for signs of imminent re-grounding in her mother’s expression but saw only sleepiness and the usual lines of stress. Apparently Beth hadn’t raised any alarms last night.

  “Sure, Mom. Thanks.” Jessica sat down at the table. Maybe Jonathan was right, and the trick to dealing with Beth was to call her bluff.

  Somehow, though, Jessica didn’t think it was going to be that easy.

  Her mother popped two slices of bread into the toaster, then turned her attention back to the coffeemaker gurgling happily on the counter. “Any plans tonight?”

  “Um, no.” Jessica frowned. “Hang on, was that question a subtle recognition of the fact that I’m not grounded anymore?”

  “Not exactly subtle,” her mother said. “I don’t do subtlety before coffee.” She splashed milk into an empty mug, her eyes remaining fixed on the black brew now dribbling into the pot.

  “Well, you’re tons more subtle than Dad. Yesterday afternoon he said he was keeping an eye on me.”

  “He is.” Mom looked at Jessica. “But I’m just going to say that I trust you. How’s that for good parenting?”

  “It’s great. But didn’t you used to be the bad cop?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Her mother gave the coffeepot a look of intense concentration. “T
akes too much energy, though. At least your father’s taking up the slack somewhere.”

  “Well, thanks anyway. I won’t let you down.” The words came out automatically, but Jessica felt a twinge of guilt as they left her lips. She had crossed a new line just the night before. It was one thing sneaking out during the secret hour, which hardly counted as breaking curfew; when every clock in the world was frozen, surely time was a meaningless concept. Plus there were darklings to slay and lost kids to rescue.

  But last night she hadn’t gotten home till about 2 a.m., cutting solidly into school-night real time. Crusty sleep still caked her eyes, and red Oklahoma dust had spun around the drain for a solid minute while she’d showered.

  Not that she regretted it. Their visit to the motionless river had been worth any amount of lost sleep. Just like air during the blue time, the water had been as warm as a summer day. Jonathan said that you could go swimming in the middle of winter. With the current arrested, the broad river was like one big heated swimming pool. The water had seemed to wash away the pain in her slither-bitten hand, not to mention all the tension between her and Jonathan.

  “That’s Jessica, all right: Miss Trustworthy,” Beth said from the kitchen door.

  Jess wondered how long she’d been standing there. Maybe she had been waiting for the sounds of Jessica getting up and had followed her down the hall.

  Not much fun, having a spy in your own house.

  Jessica cleared her throat. “That’s me.”

  Beth came in and flopped down on a chair, smiling sweetly at her sister. “Get it?” she asked. “Miss Trust?”

  At the exact same moment Jessica’s toast popped up and the coffeemaker’s gurgling ended with a final sigh.

  “I got it, Mom.” Jessica jumped up and pulled a knife and fork from the drawer, wielding them like chopsticks to remove the toast.

  “Put some in for me?” Beth asked.

  Jessica glanced at her mother, who was giving Beth a puzzled look with her sleepy eyes, the pot in one hand, mug in the other. The coffeemaker let a last few drops fall onto its hot metal plate, which hissed like angry slithers as they boiled away.

  “Be polite, Beth,” Mom finally said. “Say ‘please.’ ”

  “I’m very polite. Aren’t I, Jessica?”

  “Amazingly polite.” Jessica depressed the toaster’s handle and stared down into its double maw, watching as the elements glowed red. “For example, you’d never hang around when you’re not wanted.”

  “Yeah, and always on time. That’s me.”

  “What are you two talking about?” their mother said.

  Jessica glared at her little sister, daring her to go ahead and blab to their mother about everything: her sneaking out the night before, Jonathan, whatever she wanted. It gave Jessica pleasure to think that no matter how much Beth snitched about, she didn’t know half of what was really going on.

  And for that matter, what difference did being in trouble make? Yesterday Jessica had discovered that everything she knew could disappear at any time—maybe in a week, maybe this morning—her whole reality swallowed by the darklings. She definitely wasn’t going to let a little twerp like Beth push her around in the meantime.

  Besides, her boyfriend could fly. Grounded was a relative state of affairs.

  She stared at Beth and thought, Go right ahead.

  “Nothing,” Beth finally said. “We’re just fooling around. No big deal.”

  Their mother raised an eyebrow but then just sighed and looked at her watch. “Okay, whatever. I’m late. You guys try to have a good day.” She looked at Jessica and held up her cell phone. “Call me and Dad if you do anything after school, okay?”

  “Sure, both of you. No problem.”

  Beth’s toast popped up, and Jessica carried it to her little sister on a plate. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you, Jess. See, Mom? Totally polite.”

  “That’s nice, Beth. ’Bye, you two.”

  The sisters said goodbye, then waited silently as their mother hoisted her heavy bag onto her shoulder and walked, footsteps fading, to the end of the hall. The door opened and closed.

  Jessica turned to her sister, who was chewing toast thoughtfully. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “For what?”

  Jessica swallowed. “Not telling Mom about… everything.”

  Beth shrugged.

  “Like I said, Jess, I don’t want you in trouble. I just want to find out what’s going on here in Bixby.” She gave her older sister a sweet smile. “And I will too… one way or another.”

  10

  11:49 P.M.

  MEMORY FIX

  The mind noise of Jenks rumbled softly at this time of night. A fair percentage of the locals seemed to be awake—most watching the late-night dreck of unemployment TV—but this area was sparsely populated compared to Bixby. The thinly sprinkled minds dotted the mental landscape like lazy fireflies.

  “Anybody near the tracks?”

  She opened her eyes, licked her lips, and shook her head. “No, Rex. Nothing bigger than a squirrel.”

  Her old Ford was parked in the same field as the night before, facing the long hump of the railroad line. Melissa couldn’t taste any human minds among the trees, which was one less thing to worry about.

  Rex was almost being his old self, getting anxious over everything. He’d been worried that Cassie Flinders had told her friends everything she’d seen last night—or worse, spilled the beans to the local news channel.

  Of course, Melissa had to admit, a bunch of thrill seekers showing up to dare “haunted” railroad tracks would be a pain. It was bad enough out at the snake pit, having to crawl over frozen teenagers playing games with so-called magic rocks. But this rip in the blue time was actually dangerous—they didn’t need any more Cassies crossing over and causing all kinds of inconvenience.

  As Melissa cast her mind across the contortion, she realized that she could faintly taste the rip. There was something unnatural and vaguely wrong about this place, like the smell of chlorine on your own skin after swimming. She wrinkled her nose, wondering if the rip had grown since last night or if it only got bigger during eclipses.

  “Maybe it’s too soon,” he said. “Any rumors Cassie started haven’t had much time to spread.”

  “Well, we can come out here again tomorrow night if you want.” She flexed her fingers. “Scare the hell out of them. Of course, it does seem like a waste of effort.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Saving every little kid who wanders into darkling land when all of Bixby’s fixing to get turned into one big buffet.” She saw his fists tighten, felt the tension course through him, and sighed. “Kidding, Rex. You know me, always happy to rescue people.”

  He relaxed, took a breath. “Well, you rescued me.”

  She smiled. The great thing about Rex was, he’d never forgotten the night she’d walked across Bixby to find him, back when they were kids. Even after all these years, all the mistakes they’d made, he was still that eight-year-old, forever grateful to her for showing him that the blue time was real, not just some recurring nightmare.

  But what was he so nervous about tonight? Even with her new and improved skills, Melissa still couldn’t tease out the details sometimes. Not without physical contact, anyway, and Rex had been very edgy about touching today.

  “Maybe Cassie hasn’t told anyone,” he said. “Maybe she really does think it was a dream.”

  “I don’t know. She tasted really… clever.” Melissa paused, unsure if clever was what she meant. The kid was tough, and Melissa had detected a crafty streak in her that was a mile wide. Cassie Flinders might not have said much last night, acting very much like a kid in shock, but she’d listened to everything the midnighters had said in front of her, recording it all. The sooner Melissa rejiggered her memories, the better.

  “Just don’t push too hard, Cowgirl.”

  Rex’s guilt washed over her, sour milk mixed with battery acid, and she groaned. “Tha
t’s all behind us, Rex. No more screwups. I’ll be light as a feather in there. Just trust me, all right?”

  “Okay.” He looked at his watch. “So what do we do for eight minutes?”

  “Jeez, Loverboy, if you have to ask…”

  He smiled and turned to her, leaning across the car seat. But his movements were tentative.

  What are you hiding, Loverboy? she wondered.

  As they kissed, she felt Rex’s nervous energy buzzing across his lips. She ran her tongue lightly across them, transforming their flavor from anxiety into desire, drawing him closer. Melissa’s own excitement—her anticipation of midnight, of using her new skills to manipulate Cassie’s frozen mind—began to build. It overwhelmed Rex’s tension, mixing with his arousal like two sharp tastes colliding in her mouth.

  He reached to grasp her shoulders, his hands gloved against the accidental touch of steel, and pulled her closer. She ran a hand inside his jacket, feeling her mind begin to spin. She could taste the ferment of Rex’s ongoing transformation and wondered at its sweet electric taste, like Pop Rocks under her tongue, fizzing as it trickled down her throat.

  Usually when they touched, her generations of mindcaster technique ensured that Melissa kept herself under control. But tonight Rex’s newfound confidence, the strength in him that grew every day, threatened to overpower her. She caught glimpses of what had happened the night before, saw through his eyes the darkling in its dance, acknowledging him as another predator. Talking to him, almost.

  And then the real cause of his guilt and anxiety came through: how close he had come to letting his darkling side boil over. She wondered what would be left of Cassie Flinders if that had happened….

  Her ancient memories cautioned Melissa that Rex was becoming something no mindcaster had ever kissed before. There were shadows in him, ancient and terrifying.

  But she ignored the warnings—this was Rex, after all. He was the only reason she had survived this long. All through those years while her mind had been untutored and undefended, this was all she’d wanted: to be able to touch him. Melissa felt herself let go of everything Madeleine had given her, all mastery and control, and allowed herself to sink into the darkness inside him.