Tom O'Bedlam Part 25

He said to April, "Don't be afraid. Father Christie's right. This is a wonderful thing that's about to happen."

"I don't understand," April told him.

"Yeah," Alleluia said. "What are you talking about, anyway?"

Tom looked from one to the other - Alleluia, Father Christie, poor terrified April, the blissed-out Ferguson. All right, he thought. This is the moment. At long last, the Time is here. Let it begin.

"It's a long story," he said.

And he began to tell them all about the wonderful thing that was soon to come.

He began to tell them all about the Crossing.

2.

ELSZABETsaid, "The latest estimate from the county highway authorities is that there are three hundred thousand of them. The woman I spoke to said that the figure might be off by as much as fifty thousand either way, but there was no real hope of getting an accurate count because they were spread out so wide and because it was hard to tell how many were traveling in each vehicle. I think you all understand that even if the estimate is too high by a hundred thousand, we've got a real problem on our hands."

"What makes you think they'll be coming anywhere near us?" Dante Corelli asked.

Elszabet took a deep breath. She was feeling ragged. Dreams and visions were surfacing with bewildering frequency now, for her, for everyone. Just an hour ago the full Nine Suns had erupted in her brain, this time richly detailed and sequential, not only the huge cyclopean alien form against the rocky landscape but a whole elaborate rite involving beings of several planetary types, almost a ballet. And looking at the faces of her staff around the big conference table, she knew the same thing must be happening to them.

Dante, Patel, Waldstein, even Dan Robinson, who had had so much trouble experiencing the dreams once upon a time: everyone was fully receptive now, everyone was being bombarded by the vivid throbbing pulsating images of strange worlds.

"They have to pa.s.s reasonably close," she said. "Where they are now, there aren't that many options for going north. You can't drive thousands of cars and buses and trucks through a forest. And they'll start b.u.t.ting up against the mountains of the coastal range, which will force them closer and closer to the ocean. It's already too late for them to turn inland and go up by Ukiah way, because there aren't any decent roads that a mob that big can use to cross the mountains from where they're located now. So they can't help but be funneled toward Mendocino, and as they come swarming through there it's pretty likely that some of them will start spilling over onto our land. Perhaps a lot of them, or the whole horde, maybe. What I want to do is put up an energy wall across the whole western side of our property so that when they come up the coast they'll have to keep toward the ocean."

"Do we have the equipment for that?" Bill Waldstein asked.

"I talked to Lew Arcidiacono about that just now. He says we probably do, or at least enough to protect us on the side facing Mendocino. What we might have to do is keep moving the equipment around from place to place on an ad hoc basis all along our western perimeter until these tumbonde people have gone past."

Dan Robinson said, "Sounds like we'll need the entire staff for that."

"More than just the staff," said Elszabet. "Lew tells me that we'll need dozens of people out there on the line, some to patrol, some to haul equipment, some to operate the generators. That's going to take everybody we have, and then some."

"Patients too?" said Dante Corelli.

Elszabet nodded. "We may have to use some of them."

"I don't like that," Dan Robinson said.

"The most stable ones. Tomas Menendez, say, Father Christie, Philippa, Martin Clare, maybe even Alleluia -"

"Alleluia is stable?" Waldstein asked.

"On her good days she is. And think of how strong she is. She could probably carry a generator in each hand. We might want to give each patient a twenty-milligram nick of pax before we send them out, but I think there's no question we're going to have to use some of them on the lines." "Furthermore," Naresh Patel said, "if we do have to have the entire staff on the front line, it would be a good idea to keep the patients out there with us so we can keep watch on them for the duration of the emergency."

"Good point," Robinson said. "We can't just leave them back here to amuse themselves while we're setting up the energy wall."

Waldstein said, "Are you sure this is going to happen, Elszabet? This ferocious onslaught of berserk cultists?"

"They aren't necessarily ferocious or berserk. But there's an awful lot of them and they're in the county and coming in this direction, Bill. Would you like to gamble that they'll politely go around us without trampling so much as a blade of gra.s.s at the Center? I wouldn't. I'd rather risk wasting a little effort in protecting ourselves than fold my arms and find out that we're smack in their path."

"Agreed," Dante Corelli said.

"We have no choice, I think," Dan said.

"I think you're the only one here who has serious doubts, Bill," Elszabet said.

"Not serious doubts. I just wonder if it's all really necessary. But you're right that there's a real risk of trouble and we're better off taking whatever precautions we can. I'd like to know something else, though. While we're busy fending off this potential invasion, what are we going to do with this Tom of yours?"

"Tom?"

"You know. Your fiery-eyed psychotic friend who's been filling all our heads with his craziness. Do you think it's safe to let him run around loose?"

"What are you suggesting, Bill?" Dan Robinson asked.

"I'm suggesting that we can't function effectively if we're having hallucinations like this every ninety minutes or so. That's been my experience the last two or three days, and I think everyone else can report the same thing. Drifting in and out of Nine Suns, Green World, the Double Star planets - we have a powerful and dangerous telepath in our midst. He's messing up our heads. We're entirely at his mercy. And now if there's a real crisis marching up the road toward us -"

Robinson said, "Tom isn't psychotic. Those aren't hallucinations."

"I know. What they are is newsreel shots of actual other planets, right? Come off it, Dan."

"How can you doubt that now?"

Waldstein stared at him. "Are you serious?" "Bill, you saw the stuff Leo Kresh sent us, the relay photos from the Starprobe satellite.

We have unquestionable proof now that Green World, at least, exists. Surely you won't try to dispute the fact, after seeing that material, that what we've been calling the Green World dream is a detailed and exact view of one of the planets of the star Proxima Centauri. And that Tom, far from being psychotic, actually has some kind of telepathic means of picking up images from distant solar systems and relaying them to other minds over a wide geographical range."

"That's bulls.h.i.+t," Waldstein said.

Elszabet said, "Bill, how can you -"

Waldstein swung around fiercely toward her, hunching forward, face flushed. "How do we know those pictures came from Proxima Centauri? How do we know that Tom doesn't have some way of hocus-pocusing the receivers at Cal Tech that picked those relays up, the same way he hocus-pocuses our minds? I'll grant you that he's a telepath with astounding abilities. But not that he's scanning planets dozens of light-years away.

The whole thing's his own c.o.c.keyed fantasy, top to bottom, and he's spewing it out into millions of other people. I feel invaded by this c.r.a.p myself. I feel soiled. I think he's a menace, Elszabet."

Quietly she said, "I don't. I believe his visions are genuine ones and that the Starprobe relay confirms it. He's in tune with the whole cosmos. He's opening the universe to us in the most amazing way -"

"Elszabet!"

"No, don't look at me that way, Bill. I'm not crazy. I've spent hours talking with him.

Have you? He's a gentle holy man with the most fantastic power any human being has ever had. And if what he's told me is true, his powers are ripening to the point where it will actually be possible for human beings to travel instantaneously to the worlds we've been seeing in our - visions. He says that we're going -"

"For G.o.d's sake, Elszabet!"

"Let me finish. He says a time is coming soon - the Time of the Crossing, he calls it - when our minds will begin jumping across s.p.a.ce to those worlds. We'll all abandon Earth. Earth is done for; Earth has had it. The universe is calling us. Does that sound crazy, Bill? Sure it does. But what if it's true? We already have the evidence of the Starprobe photos. I don't think Tom's a madman, Bill. He's a disturbed individual in some ways, yes, he's been whipped around by the enormous thing within him, he's pretty far off center, sure, but he's not crazy. He might just be able to open the whole universe to us. I believe that, Bill."

Waldstein looked stunned, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, Elszabet. Jesus Christ!"

"So the answer to your question is no, I don't think we need to restrain Tom in any way while the tumbonde people are pa.s.sing through. And afterward I think it would be a good idea for us to drop everything else and devote our skills to finding out what Tom is really all about. Okay? And unless there are serious objections, I'd like to get back to the topic of how we can prepare ourselves for the possibility that hundreds of thousands of trespa.s.sers may soon -"

"May I say just one more thing, Elszabet?"

Elszabet sighed. "Go ahead, Bill."

"Starprobe or no Starprobe, I'm still not convinced that this man is in any genuine contact with real-world extraterrestrial planets. Butif he is, andif this Crossing you speak of is in any way possible, then I don't think we should just lock him up. I think we should kill him right away -"

"Bill!"

"I mean it. Don't you see the danger? Suppose he can really do it. Send the minds of everybody who's ever had a s.p.a.ce dream off to other planets. Leaving what behind, empty husks? Wipe out the whole human race, depopulate the Earth? Doesn't that idea bother you in theslightest? " Waldstein shook his head. He pressed his hands against his face. "Jesus, I can't believe I'm sitting here seriously discussing this lunacy. One last try: Either Tom is crazy and dangerous to everybody's mental health because of his ability to transmit hallucinations, or he's sane and dangerous to everybody's life because he's getting ready to empty the world of people. Okay? Okay? Whichever way it is, he's a menace."

Naresh Patel said calmly, "I have a proposal. Let's devote our energies now to the task of defending the Center against the trespa.s.sers. I gather that they are moving steadily toward some destination far to the north of us and will be a potential threat to us only for the next day or two. After that, let's examine Tom closely and attempt to determine the nature and range of his abilities; and if protective action seems desirable to take then, we can consider it at that time."

"Seconded," said Dan Robinson.

"Bill?" Elszabet said.

Waldstein clapped his hands together in a gesture of resignation. "Whatever you want. I hope to h.e.l.l he leaves for Mars in half an hour. And takes the entire bunch of you with him."

3.

FERGUSONdidn't sleep at all that night. He lay awake the whole night long, and the whole night long his head swarmed with wonders. The s.p.a.ce dreams came to him by twos and threes. He wasn't sure they could really be called dreams because he wasn't asleep: but he saw the other worlds, turning under their suns of many colors. He saw strange intricate creatures moving about, speaking in languages no human ear had ever heard. He saw gleaming wondrous cities of strange design. He saw - He saw - He saw - A couple of times he cried out in the dark, the things that he was seeing were so beautiful.

"You okay?" Tomas Menendez asked from the far side of the room.

"The visions don't stop," Ferguson said.

"Do you see Chungira-He-Will-Come? Do you see Maguali-ga?" Ferguson shrugged. "I see the whole shebang. It's the most amazing thing ever happened to me."

Out of the darkness Nick Double Rainbow muttered, "Son of a b.i.t.c.h, I'm trying to sleep!"

"I'm having visions," Ferguson said.

"Well, f.u.c.k your visions."

"It is the great time," said Tomas Menendez. "The opening of the gate will soon occur.

Now you must fill your heart with love, Nick, and let the G.o.ds spill through into you. As Ed is doing. Do you see how happy Ed is now?"

Nine suns blazed on the screen of Ferguson's mind. A gigantic weird-looking thing with one brilliant eye on the top of its head turned toward him and held out many arms and called him by his name. Then the image went away, and he saw a different landscape, a white sun in the sky and a yellow one, and even weirder-looking beings that seemed to be riding around in automobiles made out of water were traveling to and fro. And then - and then - It isn't ever going to stop, Ferguson thought. On and on and on, one after another. You wanted s.p.a.ce dreams, Ed baby? Okay, now you've got s.p.a.ce dreams.

Joy overflowed in him and tears came to his eyes again.

He had never cried so much in his life, not since he was a baby. He couldn't stop. He was like a fountain. But that was all right. The tears were was.h.i.+ng his soul. It felt good to cry. Tom had touched something inside him, Tom had opened him up somehow, and now the tears were rus.h.i.+ng through him like the spring thaw, was.h.i.+ng away all kinds of ancient grime and garbage. They should see me now, he thought. Blubbering like this.

Everyone who knew me in Los Angeles, they wouldn't believe it. Poor Ed has flipped his lid. Crying all the time, and loving it. Poor Ed. Poor nutty Ed.

Look, that's the blue star, the one that's so hot it melts the ground. The s.h.i.+mmering floating city. The s.h.i.+ning ghostlike people. Gorgeous! Gorgeous!

His pillow was soaked with tears.

G.o.d, it felt good. Cry all you want, Ferguson told himself. And then cry some more.

Clean yourself out, fellow. Whatever thing is happening to you, it's all right. Just let it happen. The way Tom had said:Just for once, let everything go, let it all open up. Let grace come flooding in.

He couldn't just lie still. He got up, walked around the room, held onto the door, to the cabinet, to the sink, anything that would steady him. The world swayed around him. He was spinning, spinning - it would be so easy, he thought, just to let go, let himself go floating off into s.p.a.ce - Tomas Menendez stood beside him. "It is a wonderful time, no? The G.o.ds are breaking through. Chungira-He-Will-Come arrives on Earth, or perhaps we will go to Chungira, I do not know which. But everything will be changed."

"Shut the f.u.c.kup. " From Nick Double Rainbow.

Ferguson smiled. "Now I see the red sun and the blue one, and a bridge of light streaming between them. Christ, that red sun, it takes up half the sky!"

"It is the vision of Chungira," said Menendez. "Come, let us go outside. Stand under the stars, let Chungira enter your soul."

"A big white wall of stone," Ferguson murmured. "It's the thing Lacy saw. Alleluia.

Now me. The golden thing with the curving horns."

Menendez had him by the elbow, guiding him into the hallway out to the steps of the dormitory building. Ferguson didn't care. He would go wherever Menendez wanted to take him. He saw only the giant red sun, throbbing and pulsing, and the blue one beside it, pounding his mind like a gong. And the wonderful being with the curving horns.

Reaching toward him. Calling to him. An arch of blazing light stretching across the heavens.

He followed Menendez out of the building. Light sprinkles of moisture struck his cheeks. The air smelled different: clean, fresh, new. Somewhere during the night the rainy season had begun: soft rain, gentle rain, quietly pattering down. He had almost forgotten what rain was like, all these dry months. But here it was, finally. That was all right, Ferguson thought. I'll just stand here in the rain, get myself clean outside as well as in. It seemed to be almost morning. Ferguson didn't feel at all as though he had gone without sleep. His mind was alert, active, wide open. The horned figure was going through the same movement again and again, turning, reaching out, raising its arms, turning sideways. And turning again.

Ferguson stared. He saw the staff office building, the red building, the dark looming ma.s.sive trees beyond. But all those things were misty and insubstantial, almost transparent. What had real density and substance was the s.h.i.+ning white block and the huge figure that stood on top of it. And the red sun, and the blue one. He lifted his face toward them. Rain streamed down his forehead. He had no idea how long he stood there. A minute, an hour, how could he tell?

Then the vision faded. The real world returned, solid, visible. Ferguson looked around, feeling a little dazed. He was standing on the front porch of the dormitory building with Tomas Menendez beside him. It was raining lightly. The sky was gray but getting brighter. A figure in a yellow rain-slicker came jogging by, heading toward the far side of the Center. Teddy Lansford, it was.

"What is it, time for pick already?" Ferguson called.

Lansford paused a moment, running in place in the rain. "No pick today," he said.

"You kidding?"

"Not today. Not for anybody. Dr. Lewis says."

"Why?" Ferguson asked, baffled. "What's so special, today?" But Lansford was gone already, sprinting off into the rainy morning. Ferguson swung around and saw other figures emerging from the dorm, crowding out onto the porch as if to see if it was really raining. April, Alleluia, Philippa, a couple of the others. "No pick today!" Ferguson said to them. "It's a pick holiday!"