by Pamela Davis
"No way to know yet," Alex responded. "Although my impression is that there are differences among the animals. I just don't know enough yet. And what about people who aren't dreamers or animal talkers--how will they fit in? Will they be considered unskilled? Or deficient in some way?"
Nathan frowned. "Not immediately, not now. But eventually, maybe so." He sighed and said, "We just don't know yet. As for the animals, not all of them are as smart as Perceval. And some don't have his knowledge of what's going on with the...consciousness...that seems to be behind all this. Are you asking if someday down the road we'll have a Siamese cat for president?" He chuckled and his face grew serious. "Of course, if we had Perceval as President right now, we wouldn't be worried about the coming tsunami. When you talked with Sam, did she seem to know if it will be stopped?"
Alexandra's eyes widened. "Didn't you hear about the speech? We picked it up on the radio at the Samuels' house earlier. He's already given the orders. It may have already happened, or be happening soon. That reporter got out a warning, but--"
"Yeah, but nobody is going to believe it. It's crazy. I hoped maybe it would be stopped."
Alex shook her head. "No, not now. Evidently there was some general who could have stopped it, but Sam says he's dead."
"Oh, damn," Nathan replied. "All those people..."
"Yeah," Alex whispered. "All those people."
Onboard a private jet heading West
"Do you have any idea how much money I had to pay that pilot to convince him to take off? Any idea how much money I needed to bribe the airport officials so we were allowed to take off? And you're gonna complain to me about eating McDonald's burgers for supper, Margaret?" Mayor Dubois said in a rising tone.
"All I'm saying is that we cannot continue to perpetuate animal abuse, that we have to change our attitudes and stop eating meat, and that you at least could have grabbed me a salad," Margaret stated. "Besides, money won't matter soon anyway."
"Oh, for the love of God, Margaret!" Zack suddenly shouted. Everyone looked startled as he stood up and tore the wrapper off one of the burgers. "Here--I've removed the offending hamburger patty. Eat the fucking bread and lettuce and pickles in peace. What do you think? We're all going to become vegetarians? Sorry lady, but ain't no way! Your view of what is happening and what needs to happen is just getting more screwy by the day! I'm--I'm--" he stuttered to a stop and marched off to the back of the plane.
"What's with him?" Margaret questioned as she munched on shredded lettuce.
Maria glared at her. "What's with him? How about knowing in advance that millions of people are about to die? And thinking maybe you could stop that from happening? Only to discover you can't stop that tragedy after all. And it is a tragedy, Margaret, of colossal proportions. Make no mistake about that."
"I never said it wasn't a tragedy," Margaret replied coolly. "Just that the Earth would be better off without all that overpopulation and pollution on the East Coast."
Maria whirled around and stalked to the back of the plane to join Zack.
Mayor Dubois sighed tiredly, took a bite of her Big Mac, and then mumbled around it, "Just shut up, Margaret."
In the back of the plane, Maria handed some food to Zack and said, "Come on, you've got to eat. Ignore her."
Zack closed his eyes for a moment, and then stared into her dark, velvety, concerned ones. "Oh, love, I'm sorry for blowing up like that. She's just getting to me. All this...."
"Believe me, I know," she replied. Smiling gently at him, she said, "It's funny how at first your dreams scared me, scared me for you. Now I'm as convinced as can be that they are absolutely true. So much has been so horrible. Do you feel this place we're going to will be better? Safer?"
He nodded as he wolfed down a cheeseburger. He was hungrier than he'd realized. Sipping some Coca-Cola, he pulled out the map again. "Here," he pointed, "this is the place I've been getting in my dreams. At first I didn't know where it was. But now I'm sure. There are people there who are planning for the future, Maria! Hard to imagine, but they are. And it's safe there--a safe zone is the phrase I've heard in my dreams."
"Wow, safety. After all this," Maria said quietly. "And a future."
"Yes, and there's someone there, some guy, who I think is named Perceval, who seems very well informed about what's happening, and someone else named Sam. Not sure who he is, but he seems powerful in the dreams."
"Well, I guess we'll find out. Cape Fair, here we come."
Harmony's Cabins-by-the-Lake
Doctor Mark Shapiro leaned back in the leather easy chair he'd moved into his cabin earlier in the day. Idly picking up a medical journal he'd grabbed from the mailbox when he moved, he wondered if this was the last medical journal he'd see for a while. Probably, he decided. It was all so unreal feeling! He was sitting in a well-lit little house, with running water, a fan whirring on the table nearby, a CD on the stereo system; this didn't look like what he would have imagined as the end of the world. But, he thought, that was wrong. As Alexandra had said to him, the end of the world as we know it. That was a significant difference.
Alex...now there was someone interesting. Different. And funny too. He grinned just thinking about her laugh. And, also, damned pretty. Those long legs, that very long brown hair rippling with gold highlights. Those--
"Knock, knock. Can I come in?" Harmony asked as she opened the screen door and ambled in.
"Harmony!" he said, getting up from his chair. "Sure, come on in. What have you got there?"
Harmony gave him a mischievous smile and replied, "Well, first, here are some roses. I know men never think of how much flowers perk up a place." As she set the vase on the coffee table, she looked around the cabin. He'd made some changes, but it looked nice.
"And some of my brownies." She started to giggle as his brow furrowed. "Just brownies, doc, no added, um, medicinal ingredients. Guess you heard about the brownie incident?"
"Yes," he said, smiling at her. You just ended up smiling around Harmony. "Let me have one of those. They look scrumptious."
Harmony handed over the plate and sank to the floor, sitting cross-legged. Her long, pale yellow gauzy skirt spread out around her, her white peasant blouse pulled to the edges of her shoulders, and with her golden, wavy hair flowing free, Mark decided she was a nice interruption. A quite beautiful golden vision of an interruption--and so unlike Alexandra. Hmm.
"You look like you have something to say," he stated, sitting back down in his chair.
"You got it, Doc, I do." Her lovely lips pursed into a pensive expression. "I saw Abby today, so I thought I should report to you."
"Oh, oh, yes," he said, muttering around a mouthful of brownie. "Please do."
He'd seen Abby that day as well. It would be interesting to hear what Harmony's impressions were. She seemed to have such a rose-colored view of the world.
"Doc, I hate to say this about anyone, but she's freakin' nuts!" Harmony blurted out.
He choked on his brownie.
After a hurried glass of water and some back-pounding by Harmony, she continued. "I took the roses over there, and we sat outside under that big Silver Maple tree in back of the house. For the first few minutes she seemed normal enough." She stopped and grinned at him. "Okay, as normal as anyone seems these days, what with animal talkers and dreamers and the end of the world and all."
He nodded.
"But then, she just went off! About how San Francisco never had this kind of weather before and she was so worried about her granddaughter's illness. Man, that was like, months ago! And she was saying this wasn't her house, that she needed to go home. That kinda got me worried. Like what happens if she gets in a car and starts driving to San Francisco? We all know she wouldn't get far with the roads all messed up, but still."
Frowning now in earnest, green eyes narrowed, he asked, "How did you handle it? When she started talking about all this?"
Harmony raised both hands, palms up, spread wide and let them fall to her lap. "Wha
t could I say? I didn't want to argue with her. I kept bringing up other things, like the colors of the roses, and how Mrs. Philpott has grown them for years. About what Gracie was gonna fix for supper later. Finally got her talking about recipes." A sudden sheepish grin appeared on her face. "Actually, those brownies are from her recipe. I wanted to give it a try. After she started talking recipes, I got her to sit down in the kitchen and write them down. Then I pulled Gracie aside and told her to keep an eye on Abby. Doc Clay wasn't there at the time. Gracie said maybe Janine could have the horses keep an eye out too."
"Sounds like you handled it very well," Mark said, unable to keep some of the surprise out of his voice.
She shook her finger at him. "Oh, Doc, you gotta have more faith in me! I'm not a total flake."
He looked at her thoughtfully, and said, "No, no, you're not. I'm not going to forget that again."
"Good! So what are you gonna do about Abby's craziness? Besides hoping a psychiatrist shows up tomorrow?"
He burst out laughing. "Yes, yes, that would be a help right about now." Then he continued, "First, we make sure everyone knows she is getting worse and is perhaps fixating on the need to return to her home. We need everyone's help to watch out for her, and right now we are all so damn busy--"
"Um, Doc? Can't you just dope her up?"
He frowned again. "Not the optimal solution here, Harmony. If at all possible, I'd like to avoid that. Hmm, let me think."
"Sure, Doc, you go right ahead. Hey, what kind of music is this that's playing?"
"Uh, oh, that's acid jazz." He paused and then snapped his fingers. "Perceval!"
"Huh?"
He got up and found the cell phone. Just as he was about to dial the phone it rang.
Harmony jumped at the ringing, then laughed weakly and sat back down, listening unashamedly to his end of the conversation.
"Hello? Mrs. Philpott! But I was just going to...yes...yes, but how did Perceval...oh, well, yes, I guess he does have his ways...still I would think since I'm not an animal talker, oh, I see, well, yes, Sam is pretty powerful, I guess. Oh, I see...knew how bad Abby was...didn't read my mind. Well, that is some relief. Okay, so they'll do it? The animals? Tell Perceval that would be a huge help. We need her watched at all times, by whoever can manage it best. I'll just leave the delegating of that chore to Perceval to handle since I can't ask them myself...Birds? Oh, smarter birds...no, not the dumb ones...quite agree there...okay then, thank you, and him, very much. Yes okay, see you tomorrow up at the Samuels' house to greet the new arrivals."
"Well," Harmony began, "that sounds settled. I'll check in on her tomorrow also."
"Good, good, that would be a help," the doctor replied, settling back into his chair. His mind was still reeling as he pondered all the implications in that phone call. How it happened. When it happened. Who was reading whose mind.
"So, Doc," Harmony continued, "did you ever try to dance to this music? Cause I think it would be pretty nice to dance to."
"What? Oh...yes...no...uh...." He stumbled to a stop.
"You know, Doc, I think maybe you need to relax and clear your mind," Harmony said, rising slowly from the floor. She twirled around in front him, skirt flaring outwards, and reached for his hand to pull him from the chair.
"Hmm."
"Shall we?" she asked, moving toward him. "Dance, that is?"
"Dance...yes," he replied, his mind catching up with events. He put an arm around her, thinking, it may be the end of the world as I know it, but the possibilities in this new one are just damn fascinating.
Chapter 18
The Samuels' House
Jessica stood next to her daughter on the front porch in the morning sunlight, watching as a line of cars approached the house. And a man on horseback. Black had mentioned him on the phone, an honest-to-god cowboy of all things. But he rode that big chestnut horse like he was welded to it. As the cars slowed and parked on the sides of the road, she turned to her daughter.
"Sweetie, you're okay with this, right? With meeting these new people? There seem to be quite a few of them."
Samantha looked up at her mother and gave a sunny smile. "Oh, sure, Mom, I want to meet them. Some of 'em I already kinda know. But dreams are different. And it's not so many coming today. Only thirty-one. Day after tomorrow, there's gonna be more."
"Oh," Jessica said, taken aback yet again by her little girl's prescience as well as her general aplomb at accepting all that was happening. "Okay, then. Black says they are all fine, no trouble-makers, but I guess you already knew that?"
Sam nodded her head. "Oh, look! It's Jimmy, the cowboy! His horse Mandy is just so cool! And there's Olivia. She's almost eleven. She hates wearing that back brace, but maybe Doctor Mark can help her so she doesn't have to wear it anymore. Her mom didn't have much money and I don't think they had a good doctor. Her mom's name is Truc--I kinda thought it was a weird name, since I never heard a name like that. Like Luke but with a 'Tr' on the front of it. But then Perceval 'splained about Vietnamese names. He says it means 'beauty, as in nature,' which seems so nice. I wish my name meant something like that."
Jessica barely followed Sam's rambling chatter, watching a thin girl climb awkwardly out of a beat up old Chevy. Surprised that old car made it here, she thought. Her heart went out to the young Asian woman who was helping the girl out of the car. Also thin, and exhausted looking, with the same straight, very dark brown hair as her daughter and the same olive skin tone. The little girl walked gingerly up the sidewalk to the porch steps and stopped, staring at Samantha.
"Hi," she said in a very quiet, but delighted, voice. "You are real, aren't you! See, Mom, I told you. This is Sam."
Sam walked down the steps and carefully gave Olivia a hug. "Ooh, I'm so glad you are here! I was worried at that flooded out place on the road, but you made it." She turned to Olivia's mother and said, "Hi, Truc. I hope you weren't scared by the wolf. He could show you the way, but he couldn't tell you not to be scared. But you ended up hearing me, right?"
Truc stared at Sam. Then raising a shaking hand to her forehead, she said, "You know, I really think I feel a bit faint. Maybe it was seeing so much chaos and destruction, maybe it was the wolf, maybe it was hearing a voice in my head...but I think...I really think...I'm...I'm...."
Jessica ran down the steps and caught the collapsing woman, calling out, "Doc! Alex! Get out here! Now!"
Sam patted Olivia on the hand and said, "Don't worry. It will all be okay now. It really will."
Jessica glanced up and saw looks of relief on the faces in the small crowd gathered around them. Heard the whispers, "She said it will be okay." Saw one man pushing his way to the front of the group, his eyes wildly searching until they fell on her daughter. Where was Black, she wondered, suddenly alarmed. Ah, there he was, right next to the man. Watched as her little girl stared calmly into the man's face. Saw his features still, his mouth begin to smile. Heard him say, "You are real! Thank God you are real," as he knelt down in front of Sam.
Sam said with a giggle, "Well, o'course I am, silly. So are you, Harry." Then she burst out laughing, pointing to the golden retriever next to her side, as always. "Harry, the man--meet Harry, the dog." The man looked surprised.
"Nice to meet you, Harry the dog," he said, chuckling.
Harry woofed. Harry ran up to the man and licked his face. Harry knocked Harry over onto the grass.
The crowd laughed and talked excitedly. Good old Harry (the dog), Jessica thought fondly. Ice broken, the feeling of awe dispelled, for now, anyway.
Power Station, Table Rock Lake Dam
Sergeant Wachowski was waving his unlit cigar around again. Merlin watched it with a twitching tail, trying to decide whether it was to kittenish to just swat it out of the Sergeant's hand. The man never lit the cigar, just chewed on the end of it. Probably best to leave the cigar alone. Sergeant Wachowski had some pretty big meaty looking hands--they could swat a cat clear across the room most likely. Merlin gave a low growl and cu
rled up on the papers in front of Lisanne.
"Why in hell would anyone want to attack the power plant? That just makes no sense! Sure, I've known it was always a danger, but now you sound like it's a near emergency. Listen, without power, things are going to go downhill pretty damn fast," Wachowski stated forcefully.
"I know, I know, you don't have to tell me," Lisanne said. "But Sam sent word--actually she sent word to Merlin--that she had a dream about it."
"What?" Wachowski said explosively. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? If she dreamed it--"
"Wait, wait," Lisanne said, holding up a hand. "Not so fast. She had a dream that she says is a possibility--not a certainty. I'm not totally clear on it, but Merlin says she can have dreams that are possible future events, that are determined by the actions of the people involved. Like the bomb thing--she thought at one point it could be stopped. Of course, now we know that isn't going to happen, but up until the time that General Whatshisname died, it was still a possibility--could have gone either way. Now it's become a certainty."
Sergeant Wachowski scowled. "So what are you saying? We need to do something? Someone else needs to do something? Just tell me who needs to do something to make it a certainty the plant isn't attacked."
Lisanne pressed her fingers to her temples, closing her eyes. "Argh! That's what I'm telling you--we don't know yet. All we can do is to get more help out here to watch over the place, make sure we have someone armed here at all times, and pray that whoever it is doesn't make it this far."
Lisanne thought how her old physics professor would have had a field day with all this possibility-certainty stuff. Man, oh, man, she thought. This is giving me a massive headache.
Merlin nudged her arm with head and her hand automatically dropped to his fur, slowly rubbing along his spine, up between his ears. She realized, after a minute, that the headache was easing up. What the hell? She stared into his eyes, and then muttered, "Well, I'll be damned."
Sergeant Wachowski looked sharply at her. "What is it now? What's the damned cat saying?"