by Pamela Davis
She wanted to be out there still, but she had to finish unpacking and help Alex and Dr. Shapiro move into two of the other cabins. Dr. Shapiro hadn't been too happy about finding out his house was on the wrong side of town to maintain electricity, Harmony thought, laughing quietly to herself at the look of chagrin on his face when Lisanne told him. So today, she and Max would help out with the move. Poor Alex didn't have much to move since she'd never made it home after returning from Africa. Fortunately the five cabins were all in great shape and furnished with rustic looking chairs and comfy couches with well-made quilts on the double beds in each bedroom. Harmony finished setting out a row of crystals on the kitchen window ledge. Looking out at all the fresh, vibrant beauty, she suddenly burst into tears.
"Hey! Anybody home?" She heard from the front door.
Wiping her eyes and stifling the tears, she crossed the room to open the door. Nathan was standing there, guitar in one hand, duffel bag in the other. "Hi, Harmony," he said brightly. "Just wanted to see if I could rent one of your cabins. I can pay with free concerts," he continued, holding his guitar case up with a grin. "With all the empty houses around, I guess I could have picked any I wanted, but I feel the need to live in the midst of people--"
He stopped talking as Harmony gave a little cry and threw her arms around him as she sobbed.
"Well, well, now, it's okay--Harmony?" he asked, bewildered, as he gently patted her on the back.
Harmony's tears continued for a minute, and then she took a shaky breath, pulling away from him. She turned back into the cabin and motioned him inside.
"Sorry," she mumbled, "shouldn't have done that. You came at just the wrong time." She laughed hollowly. "Then when you said--about wanting to be around people, all the empty houses--"
Nathan advanced into the room and set his belongings down, saying, "Here, sit down and let me make some tea. Now tell me what this is about."
Harmony took a deep breath, sat down at the kitchen table and laid her head on crossed forearms on the table while Nathan found the tea kettle and filled it with water.
"It was seeing it all," she said in a small voice, lifting her head up to look at him. "Seeing how beautiful it is, the world out there. Nature. The Earth. And then knowing, really knowing, so many people are dead. That so many more are going to die. It was just so--so--big all of a sudden. All those people."
Nathan sat across from her and reached out to hold her hand as her voice trailed off. "Go on," he urged.
"Oh, I don't know. I guess, we've been so busy, I've been so busy. Shopping, planning, meeting new people. Dreaming. And it's like you know that the dreams are coming true, you know there is worse to come, but you still have to live. You have to keep going, keep helping, to make this be a place that is safe. But to know, really know, there are so many who won't be safe...it feels selfish. Wrong somehow. And terribly unfair. All the ones who won't get to see a pretty spring day again. Who won't get to go for a walk under the trees, smell the scents of growing things, hear the birds chattering at each other, all the things they will miss out on, all the life that's just...gone."
She paused while Nathan got up and poured hot water over tea and brought the mugs to the table. He asked, "But is it wrong that we survive?"
Shaking her head vehemently, blonde curls moving across her shoulders, she said, "No! No, someone has to survive, don't we? I guess I wonder why us, why me, but--" She waved an arm in the direction of the front door. "There is so much life out there, and we are a part of it. It's almost like it's our duty to live, to enjoy what is left, to make the most of the life we have been given. But we can't forget them, can we? Those who are dying, we can't forget they existed."
Nathan sipped his tea and leaned back in his chair, thinking how he'd surely underestimated this woman. You just never knew about people, about the depths inside everyone. Her rather overwhelmingly pretty surface appearance and lighthearted manner had made him not really see her until now. But what she was saying, these were feelings they would all experience in one form or another in the coming days, weeks, months, hell, years, probably.
"No," he said quietly. "We can't ever forget they existed. We have to mourn them, mourn the loss of a whole way of life. We may not have always thought it was the best way of life, or believed everyone out there was wonderful and good, but they were like us. They were people like us. And now they're gone, and in the end, very few of us may be left." He reached down to pat the guitar case at his side. "Part of what I hope to do someday soon is start to write about them, about the world we knew, in songs that will help us remember."
Harmony nodded approval. She hadn't had much time yet to get to know Jessica's brother, but he looked a bit like an adventurer, she thought. Those khaki shorts he always wore with a different t-shirt each day. Noticing the logo on today's shirt, she said, "So, did they know about Nine Inch Nails in the part of Africa you were in?"
He laughed, looking down at the image on his faded green t-shirt. "Let's just say it wasn't the most popular music out there."
"And now you'll be the one making the music here," she said. "Do you kinda feel like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders now? I mean, since as far as I know, you are the only musician here, it will be up to you to keep the music alive." She giggled as a look of horror crossed his face.
"I-I never actually thought about that, Harmony," he said in concern. "It's not like I'm a Mozart or Beethoven--or even The Beatles--holy shit."
She laughed out loud then, caught up in a wave of amusement that was a relief after the earlier tears. "Oh Nathan, your face! You look terrified. Don't worry. I don't think anyone is expecting symphonies, not yet."
He watched her laughing and slowly grinned. "Well, good. I've played guitar and written music since I was young--and don't believe anything Jessica tells you about my early efforts, sisters are the worst critics--but the thought of my being the only musician, yikes. There'd better be more of us out there."
Harmony's laughter faded as her voice turned serious, "We'll just have to see, won't we? Who will be left at the end. Or maybe I should say, who will be left at the beginning."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, as much as the world seems to be ending, it is also a beginning, I agree. Of what, where we are going, what this new world will be like, I guess we won't know that for a while." He sat up straighter in his chair and asked, "So, what about that cabin? You have one for me? Can you tolerate a musician on the premises?"
Harmony looked a bit puzzled. "Well, yeah, sure, Alex already asked and I've got one set up for you guys--"
"No," Nathan shook his head, chuckling. "I'm not staying with Alex...unless we run out of room, of course."
"But aren't you guys--" Harmony began.
"Ah, no, no, we aren't," he replied in a bemused tone. "Why does everyone assume Alex and I are a couple? We work together, yes, but that's it."
"Oh!" said Harmony. "I see." She looked him up and down with more interest in her eyes.
"Anyway, I think my sister's house is full enough, and I'd prefer to have my own place. Alex and I will need to spend time together as we sort out what's happening here, but we don't need to live together."
Harmony nodded. "No problem. In fact," she said with an inviting smile, "the cabin right next door to me is available. You're welcome here, anytime."
"Erhm, thank you," he responded. Life was indeed continuing on here at the end--beginning of the world.
San Juan Islands, on board the Rhondavous yacht
Margaret heard the sound deep within her bones as she leaned against the railing at the front of the deck. The power of the whale before her was incredible. The mental power. Radiating outward. Suddenly she understood what Captain Hollywood had said about their brains being four times bigger than human brains. There was intelligence here, all right, a stunning amount of it! She let herself relax and opened her mind.
Alan Beakman watched as Margaret closed her eyes. Didn't look too complicated, he thought wryly,
just close your eyes and breathe deeply--yeah, right. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes--and was overwhelmed with information. He fell to the deck of the boat.
Dusty ran forward and knelt beside Alan, cradling his head in her hands. "Alan? Alan, can you hear me?" she asked urgently.
Maria and Zack came up beside her. "What happened to him?" Maria asked.
"I don't know! Ask that woman!" Dusty snapped, pointing to Margaret.
But Margaret was caught up in the grip of a powerful intellect, striving to teach her things she wasn't ready to hear. He was telling her she was wrong. But how, she thought frantically, what did I do wrong? She was bombarded by so many impressions, not visual images exactly, more dimensional than that--many dimensions. The tremendous whale disengaged his mind from hers, moving away physically as well.
Zack watched as Margaret sank down in a faint, and he gazed sharply at the mammoth whale moving alongside the boat. He felt a gentle touch upon his mind, a welcoming. And he heard a message. Smiling a bit as he found himself on his knees on the deck, he whispered Maria's name as he slowly keeled over and passed out.
"Captain! Captain Hollywood, get us the hell out of here!" Dusty shouted. "They're dropping like flies!"
Washington D.C., the Oval Office
"If this flood happens, General, I want you ready to attack, to take action," announced the President.
General Briggs looked carefully at the President. He seemed to be as normal as ever; he sounded like the same old Jeb, his friend of many years. But what he was proposing...to attack the planet? Nature? What the hell? His argument seemed to be that the scientists said all the recent tragedies were from natural causes. Nature. And Jeb had got it into his head that the spate of disasters could be stopped from continuing if humans fought back. Evidently his wife having dreams of the flood was having a major impact, General Briggs decided.
"Mr. President, I'm not sure what kind of battle plan we could come up with for fighting our own planet."
"General--George, how long have we know each other? Fifteen years now? And have you ever known me to be crazy, to move without thinking?"
"Well, no, sir, but--"
"But nothing!" the President roared. "I've been staring at a report this morning from that idiot science advisor of mine, and there's a pattern. A pattern in the disasters that are occurring all over the world. They're happening in built-up areas, places where probably we shouldn't have settled huge population centers, if you listen to the environmentalists--which I've also been doing this morning. Disasters in places where there's been heavier extinction of species than usual. Places where we've tried to change the shape of the planet--or rivers--and in each of these disasters, I can tell you there is something like that connected to it."
The general nodded thoughtfully, but said, "Mr. President, the problem is we don't have an enemy to face, to fight. There is no Army of Nature. Who am I supposed to tell our boys to go attack? Sir?"
The President leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses. "You don't attack people. You attack the planet itself. You find a place deep within the earth to attack. Isn't there some trench out in the ocean somewhere that we could drop a few bombs into and see what happens? Or how about a volcano? I think that would send a message."
"But--but--" General Briggs stopped and stared at his boss for a minute. "Sir, just who are we sending a message to?"
"Why, the planet, of course! There have been theories for years that perhaps the planet has some kind of sentience. Everybody with any sense thought those ideas were pure hooey, but now--now we have the evidence. You can't tell me it's normal for all these disasters to be happening. My director of FEMA collapsed the other day from exhaustion! No, it's not right. So we're going to stop it. I'm also going to have you go after this woman, Margaret, the one who was on TV. She says she's in communication with the planet--well, let's see how the planet likes it if we get rid of its stooge."
The General sat there wondering what it would take to put the 25th amendment into action. His friend, his President, the most powerful leader in the world, was absolutely fucking nuts.
Pumping Station, Cape Fair
Nathan walked around the back of the squat, concrete building. No windows broken, everything was sound. The water would flow from here as long as there weren't any breaks in the pipes and as long as the electricity kept going. He'd spent several hours on the phone calling employees of the water company and finally found a supervisor to talk to, but the man refused to stay in town, believing the dam was going to fail. Thank God, Nathan thought fervently, the guy was willing to give me some crucial info or else we'd be up the creek.
At least now he and Andy would be able to hold their own. And if the earthquake didn't shake them up too much, then the water would flow. He stopped abruptly as he heard a sound coming from a patch of Hawthorn trees nearby. The whining, weak bark of a dog. Nathan ran to the trees.
A large black Labrador dog looked up from the ground as Nathan approached. Nathan slowed down and started talking softly to the animal. "Hey there, it's all right, I'm not going to hurt you. You're hurt, aren't you, big fella?" He got closer. "Oops, sorry, you're not a fella! My bad. Okay now, will you let me get near you to see what's wrong?" He suddenly remembered the sausage biscuit he'd wrapped up at breakfast and stuffed into the pocket of his windbreaker. Pulling it out and unwrapping it, he moved closer to the injured dog. "Here you go. Now, I bet you're hungry, aren't you?" Setting it on the ground within reach of the dog, he watched as she lifted her head to sniff at it and take a bite. Nathan got closer and finally kneeled down and stroked the back of head. "There now, we can be friends. Let's see--hooh boy! What the heck did you do to your leg, girl, huh? That looks bad."
He didn't try to touch the obviously infected back leg, but instead backed away and pulled out his cell phone, yelping as he backed right into the thorns on the branch of the tree. "Yow! I didn't even know trees could have thorns!" He opened up the phone and dialed. John had insisted that they all carry cell phones, especially if they had to go out alone. Nathan called Clay and said, "Doc, I got a patient for you--and Doc, I think her name is Ursula."
Mrs. Philpott's House
Perceval sat in the front of the house on the chintz-covered window seat, staring out at the wet grass. No way was he going out today until it was necessary. He felt like things were coming along with the humans. They were getting organized and prepared for what was coming. Of course, they couldn't think of everything, and Perceval realized even he would probably find later he'd forgotten about a few things too. But on the whole, they'd accomplished a great deal in a short period of time.
He'd spent time this morning with Mrs. Philpott, Jessica and John while Sam's parents related the incident of 'mind pressing' from yesterday. They were freaked out still, but handling it better today. He thought Sam would be okay, not go off controlling people with her mind. And Perceval wondered if it hadn't been easier for her to do that with Jessica than it would be with anyone else. Sam felt very close emotionally to her mother, and that was bound to have an impact on her abilities.
The house was quiet now as everyone was flitting around on last-minute errands. Surprisingly enough, nobody else had moved in here. The human penchant for companionship was at play in the living arrangements that were being worked out. Clay and Abby were moving to the farm along with Janine, where Clay would have easy access to the horses and other animals there. And Mrs. Philpott thought living on the farm would be good for Abby, not giving her much time to think or dwell on things with all the work there. Of course, they'd all stay busy no matter where they lived, just keeping enough technology going and producing food to survive. The Power People, as they were already being called by everyone, the team of Sergeant Wachowski, Tommy, and Lisanne, were moving into a quite large home on Table Rock Lake. There was room for more people to be added to the team. And Andy appeared to be thinking on that topic. The chemistry between Lisanne and Andy was palpable to
anyone around the two. Perceval gave him a week at most before Andy caved in and joined the Power People. As soon as he saw that Nathan could deal with the water situation, which appeared to be pretty well set, Nathan would get more help from survivors who ended up here, Perceval thought. More people. But, he thought, brightening up, they'd be people who wanted to be here. Who'd either dreamed of the place or been drawn to it by their animals.
He continued his review of the so-called Gaians. Gaians. Did they honestly think the planet called herself that? He had been a bit ticked off that nobody wanted his name of Group One. But then, they didn't understand it, not yet. Someday, though, someday they'd get it.
Jessica, John and Sam would continue living at their home with Max, Rachel and Black for now. Protection of Samantha was part of the reason, Perceval knew, but it was also just plain easier to feed folks and keep the basic necessities going when they all pitched in together, which was why Harmony's cabins were filling up with Dr. Shapiro, Alex, and now, Nathan. They'd each have their own cabin, but planned to cook meals together and share the company of one another. Humans just did better together than apart, a communal species.
Ah! Finally Nathan got that dog some help. Perceval settled down more comfortably on the window seat cushion, curling up in a circle. The incessant noise in his head had driven him crazy for the last hour, but now the whining had stopped and Clay was treating the injured dog--Ursula. She'd ignored everything Perceval had tried to get across to her, unwilling to hear out a cat! Hmphf! And everyone had left here by the time he figured out where it was coming from. A dog would be good for Nathan. And he'd be able to communicate with her easily. He and Alex had profoundly open minds, and they'd both had the dreams. Perceval sat in the dining room last night watching Alex flicking her long braid idly in her hand, and he'd itched to just jump on it and attack it. But he wasn't a kitten. That wouldn't be seemly. Now, though, now everything was quiet, the rain was starting to splatter against the windows again, and he was toasty warm and dry. Time for a nap.