The Library at Mount Char (47 page)

He caught them. “Thanks. Where's Naga?”

“She went home,” Carolyn said.

“Back to Africa?”

Carolyn nodded.

“Why?”

“She wanted to be with her people. When, you know, at…” She trailed off.

“At the end?”

She nodded.

“Jesus, Carolyn. How bad
is
it out there?”

Carolyn was silent for a time before she answered. “Well, it's not the
end
.” Then, softer, “not yet.”

Steve nodded. “You haven't changed.” He looked at the Liquid-Plumr, and suppressed a shudder.
Here we go again. Maybe this time I could get ahold of some explos
—

“Actually, I have.” Then, following his gaze to the Liquid-Plumr, “Here.” She held up a pistol. “I'll make it easy for you. Or isn't a gun horrible enough?”

“I suppose I could make it work. Am I getting through to you at all?”

She just looked at him.

Steve sat up, brushed the dust off one of the kitchen chairs, lit his
cigarette. “You're getting better at the whole resurrection thing. I'm not even sore this time.”

“Thanks.”

He squinted at her over his Marlboro. “You do look different. How long did you say it's been?”

“Three or four months, I think. I don't keep track. Different how?”

“I'm not sure. You don't look any older.”

She snubbed out her cigarette. “I wouldn't. I don't age. Not anymore. It's a trick of Father's.”

“You've got a couple of lines, though.” He traced his hand across her cheek.

“Yeah, well. What is it you guys say? ‘It's not the years, it's the mileage'?”

Then he saw it. “I know what it is. You don't seem so angry. Well…grumpy, maybe. But not like you were.”

“How do you mean?”

“It used to be that your eyebrows were all crushed together all the time.” He made a face imitating her. “And your jaw muscles kept jumping when you thought no one was looking. Now, less so.”

“Hmmm.”

“So, what have you been up to?”

“This and that,” she said. “Studying, at first. Thinking things over. Then I had a chat with Father.”

“Seriously? I thought he was dead.”

She shrugged.

“Hmm. Just a chat? Not a fight, or anything?”

“Yeah. It was pretty civil, actually. Why?”

“Well…I bet an argument between the two of you would be something to see. Did you ever see that movie where King Kong fought the big dinosaur?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“That's a shame. I'm kind of funny.”

Carolyn's brow furrowed…but then she relaxed. “Yeah,” she said, smiling a little. “You are. I've missed that. And maybe I
am
less angry.” She held her hand out for the lighter.

Steve passed it over. “That's good. You need to get stuff out of your system. If you let it fester, it'll eat you up.” She was looking at him strangely. “What?”

“You're one to—Nothing.”

“So…four months, huh?”

“Give or take.”

“That's longer than the last time.”

“Yeah.”

“Why'd you wait?”

“I wasn't going to bring you back at all.”

“Are you mad at me?”

She winced. “No. Not mad. I just…I didn't think I could bear it if you…did, you know, something. Again.”

“Oh.” Steve considered this. “Well…I'm sorry.”

“It's OK. I understand why you did it. Or, I think I do, anyway.” She walked around the kitchen island and fetched the copy of
Black Beauty
off the counter. “This is for you.”

He took it. “This is that, whatchacallit, the token thing? From the porch? Right?”

“It is, yeah. Open it.”

He handed it back to her. “I don't have to.”

“What? What do you—”

“It's got my name inside the cover, right? Handwritten, in red ink. This isn't
like
the one I had, it
is
the one I had. When I was a kid, I mean. Right?”

“You remember?”

“Sort of. I dreamed about it. After the fire. The first time I, you know…”

“You did?”

“Yeah. And again, just now. I dreamed I was reading it in the car, on the day my parents…you know, the day of the wreck. Then I was handing it to this little kid I was friends with, a little girl from the neighborhood. I hadn't thought about her in years.” He shook his head. “We used to talk about books and stuff. I couldn't remember her name, though.” He smiled. “And then I could. You used to be so
blond
.”

Carolyn smiled back. “I've changed.”

“Yeah. I guess you have. Me too, for that matter. I was wondering why that one house—that one where the beagle was hanging out—looked so familiar. I didn't recognize any of the rest though.”

“You wouldn't. There was a fire. Most of it's been rebuilt.”

“Oh?” He frowned. “It
seems
like I remember what happened, but…it can't be real.
Can't
be. Your Father did something, didn't he? To my mind, my memory.”

“He did, yeah.”

“So what really happened? Wait! No.” He rubbed his temples. “On second thought, don't tell me. Whatever happened, I bet I was a huge asshole in some way.”

Carolyn blinked. “No. You weren't an asshole. Not at all. You really couldn't be more wrong.”

He looked up, not sure whether to believe her.

Carolyn's expression was gentler than he had ever seen it. “I have a proposal for you, Steve. What if I told you that there was a way to make it all better?”

Steve gave her a sharp look. “What exactly are we talking about?”

“The sun,” she said. “The earthquakes. Everything.”

“You're going to put what's-her-name back?”

“Not exactly. I really can't do that. Mithraganhi is with Father now.”

“Dead, you mean?”

“No. Not dead. They went away. Mithraganhi, Nobununga, Father. We won't see them again.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘away'?”

“A new universe, I think. One Father created. One where he makes all the rules.”

Steve shook his head. “You guys really are playing at just a completely other level. You know that?”

“Well…you might be surprised. I'm really not that different from you. Anyone could have done what I did.”

“You know, I really doubt that.”

She stood quiet for a long moment, looking down. Then, softly, “It has a price, though. In the service of my will, I have emptied myself.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. I get that, too.”

She looked at him. “Do you? Do you really?”

“Yeah. I really do.”

Carolyn smiled. “You know, I believe that you do. Thank you.” She reached out and touched his cheek. Her fingertips were warm. For some reason this surprised him. “But I will be wiser than that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She let her hand drop. “I'm going to fix it, Steve. I should have listened to you. You were right all along.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You're going to bring the sun back?”

She nodded. “By this time tomorrow it will be just the way it used to be.”

“I thought you said it was impossible. That David couldn't—”

“David is gone. I let him die.”

“What? When?”

“A couple of hours ago.”

“What about your whole revenge thing?”

She shrugged. “I've had enough revenge. I'm done.”

“Well…yay you, I guess. But if he's not the sun, then how do you—”

She looked at him. “I found another way.”

“Wow. That's great, Carolyn. Really. But what about outside? There's a famine, right? People are still starving. And that volcano, and—”

“It's not quite that bad, not yet. And I won't let it get any worse. I spoke with the volcano under Yellowstone and calmed him down. As far as the famine…there's a trick I know. A way to make a sort of bread out of clouds. It takes a lot of energy and a little time, but I have both. By the time the sun comes up tomorrow food will be falling down from the sky. All over the world. And I'll do that every couple of days until the crops come back.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded.

“And the Library? The earthquakes?”

“The Library is back in hiding. The earthquakes will cease. I've put the moon back in its old orbit—the tides will normalize. Soon.”

“Carolyn…that's…that's fantastic. But
why
?”

“Because of you, Steve. Because of what you did.”

“Me? What the hell did
I
do?”

“You were my friend,” she said. “That's what. And you were a really, really good one. The best I'll ever have. Not just mine, either.”

Carolyn cupped her hands in front of her as if to drink. Mist rose from her palms, coalesced into a sphere. It took a moment for him to recognize it as the Earth, only basketball-sized and seen from below—Antarctica on top, South America below, clouds, oceans. It hovered inches above her palm, turning slowly. Squinting, he saw the tiny contrail of a jet over the Pacific.

“Look, Steve. Right here. Billions of people. They're going to be OK now. As OK as they ever were, anyway. You have my word. I'm going to make it all better. Because of you.”

Steve looked. He stretched his hand out to touch, then thought better of it. He looked at Carolyn, still not understanding. Her eyes were shiny.

“You saved them,” she said. “Every last one of them. Naga.
Petey
. You saved them all. Just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled.

A single tear broke and ran down Carolyn's cheek.

“Carolyn, why are you—”

She took her hands away. Earth hung there, unsupported now, still spinning. Steve watched, fascinated, as the contrail of the jet grew a tiny fraction of an inch.

Saved them? Me?
In his mind's eye, just for a moment, he saw Jack stepping out of the shadows into sunlight.

Carolyn stepped around to the side and whispered in his ear, speaking the word that Father whispered to Mithraganhi so very long ago when he called forth the dawn of the fourth age.

For Steve, hearing this…

…time…

…stopped.

S
teve floated weightless in the kitchen of the penthouse. Carolyn fished a dusty club soda out of the refrigerator and sat down at the kitchen table. She didn't touch her drink, but she smoked cigarettes slowly, one after another. Sometimes she didn't inhale, just let them burn down to a teetering column of ash.

By the time the pack was empty, Steve's head was encased in a sphere of boiling energy—yellow-orange, just like the former sun. His connection to the plane of joy was very strong. If anything, he would burn even brighter than had Mithraganhi. She might have to fold space a little so that he didn't cook Mercury to a cinder.

She untied one of Steve's shoelaces and, using it as a leash, carried him through the great hall, up the stairs to the jade platform under the universe. David's body was there, bloody, under a plastic sheet. His pain was in the past now. Later, she would have the dead ones carry him down. She would find whatever was left of Margaret and wrap them in a single shroud. She would bury them together.

She set Steve in the heavens, then adjusted the orbits to the way things had been, before. She didn't even have to use a calculator.
I'm getting the hang of this
.

She had a great deal to do, but she didn't want to be in the Library anymore. Not today. The bombing had reduced Garrison Oaks to rubble, and it was surrounded by tanks, soldiers, but the Library had other doors, other facades. She chose a farmhouse in Oregon, a quiet place at the far end of a long road.

In this new place she went to the kitchen and made coffee. Unthinking, she picked up the plates and cups, washed them. When that was done she went into the bathroom—it took her a minute to find it—and drew a very hot bath. The tub's backsplash was lime-green tile, and the faucets were stiff with disuse.
It's clean, though
.

A long time later she got out of the tub and dried herself. Steve hadn't dawned yet, and it was a trifle chilly—something like ten below. She didn't know how to turn on the furnace. But looking through the
closet she found a pink terrycloth robe hanging there, waiting for her. It was brand-new, with the tags still attached, just her size. It had almost certainly been hanging there since the beginning. She shook her head.
Father
.

On the floor below the robe she found a box containing a pair of overstuffed slippers. The slippers were ridiculous—the stuffed head of some cartoon cat was mounted over the toes, grinning. She examined them, bemused.
Father really
did
have a sense of humor. Who knew?
But silly though they might be, they were also soft and warm.

She put them on, then went and stood at the back window. It looked out over a broad field, white with snow. There was a barn, and a small stream.

She blinked.

On the far side of this field, a man stood, almost hidden in the forest. She blinked again. “That's impossible,” she said, remembering the smoking, perforated ruin of Mrs. McGillicutty's house.

Then Father's voice came to her.
“I almost forgot. I left you something.”
And another man's voice, hesitant and soft.
“I was with…with…the small things. Father
said.
Father said to study the ways of the humble and the small.”

And David.
“Maybe a mouse could have snuck out. Not much else.”

She went to the back door, not quite running, and threw it open. “Michael!”

He came to her, flanked on his left by a cougar and his right by three wolves. They stopped just outside the yard. Michael stared at her, wide-eyed, and called her by Father's old title. “Sehlani?”