Sunshaker's War (19 page)

“Sandy,” Liz supplied.

“Yeah,” Calvin went on. “I've told her about all this stuff we're involved in, the Worlds, and all. And she, being a physics teacher, has been tryin' to figure it all out rationally. But anyway, I've been kinda keepin' tabs on what's goin' on over here too, I…”

“You've heard about the shitty weather then?” David interrupted.

Calvin nodded grimly. “That's why I'm here, partly.”

And with that he told them about his most recent visit to Galunlati.

“Whew,” David said when he had finished. “So what's the worst-case scenario?”

Calvin shrugged. “Well, Uki seems to be afraid Galunlati'll be destroyed, and that would affect things here. But I think maybe the worst thing is that the sun itself could get unbalanced someway.”

“Like go nova, maybe? You've
gotta
be kidding?”

“No, but it's apparently tied up with the Tracks somehow. Sandy thinks they're some kind of inter-dimensional manifestation of gravity. But apparently something's been drawin' on the power of the Tracks, and that's been causin' all
kinds
of trouble over there. I needn't tell you how precarious the specs are that keep this place habitable.”

“Good point.”

“Yeah. I mean in Galunlati, which was apparently
made
in some way, they moved the world nine times before they got it right—course the folks there thought it was the sun was moved, but you get my drift. It's no big deal here—yet; Faerie and Galunlati are both fragment worlds and more or less depend on ours to keep together. But they're also more susceptible to disturbances at a cosmic level. It's like gravity: it doesn't take as much to perturb the orbit of a small object as it does a big 'un.”

“And Galunlati's a small object, relative to us, right?” David wondered, trying very hard to grasp the complex concepts.

“Right. But still if anything happened to it—or Faerie…”

“It might upset the balance here.”

Calvin nodded emphatically. “Right!”

David shook his head. “Where'd you learn all this, anyway?”

“Books, Uki, Sandy, common sense, you name it.” He paused. “I don't reckon you have any ideas?”

David shifted position. “As a matter of fact I do.”

He briefed Calvin then, about his dreams, the war, his theories about it.

“God!” Calvin said, standing up and pacing the space between the beds. “Yeah, it all makes sense now. And it really is critical that we find out what's goin' on over there.”

“I'd thought about tryin' to stop it, if I can,” David said slowly. “Had the idea anyway, though I'm damned if I've got any notion how. I mean, how do you stop a war, man?”

“Like I told you, David,” Liz inserted. “One man at a time, and one side.”

“Easy to say, hard to do.”

“But at least we agree on the first step.”

“Right,” Calvin said. “Soon as lunch's over we bop over to see Mr. McLean.”

“There's one minor problem with that,” David noted.

“Oh?”

“Road's out twixt here and there.”

“Is that all?” Calvin laughed. “No problem, long as I got the bike.” His gaze fell on Liz. “Only holds two, though.”

Liz grimaced resignedly. “I guess I'll just have to trust you guys then, and it's probably just as well. At least maybe I can get some studying done this way.”

David's eyes narrowed. “I thought you left your books in Gainesville.”

“I did,” Liz replied. “But not my notebooks.”

“You're not leavin', then?” David inquired hopefully.

“Not yet, foolish boy! Do you think I'd run off with something like this going on? But I really do need to study, and somebody probably ought to tell your folks what's going on. Uncle Dale too.”

“You got it.”

“What I've
got
,
” David said, “is a case of the hungries! Let's go see if ma's got lunch ready, then boogie. I'll give old Alec a call and tell him I'm comin' over, just not why, or with whom.”

Calvin looked briefly worried. “He
is
okay, isn't he?”

“More or less. Still pining for Eva some. I think he's finally decided he likes you, though—if that's what you were worried about.”

“Well that's a relief,” Calvin said, and then JoAnne called them to lunch.

Chapter X: Eavesdropping

(near MacTyrie, Georgia—Saturday
,
June 14—2:30 P.M.)

Lord, get me outta this with my head on frontwards and my skin intact,
David was praying with surprising fervor for an adolescent agnostic as Calvin laid the Bimmer far over to negotiate the last sharp turn on the MacTyrie mountain at what David knew with absolute certainty was preposterously more than legal speed. He tightened his grip on the Indian's leather jacket and closed his eyes, as his body tilted in sync with his friend's.
Use the Force, Luke,
he thought, as gravel brushed his left cuff. He had, he decided ruefully, a certain amount more sympathy for Alec, whom he had terrorized with his own brand of motorized mayhem since he was a highly illegal fourteen.

The bike straightened abruptly, and he heaved a sigh of relief and opened his eyes once more, certain he'd heard Calvin chuckle. At least they were almost to their destination.

And at least it was not—for the moment—raining, though David suspected that he might arrive pretty damp
anyway, either from perspiration, or maybe from peeing in his pants from sheer terror.

A wayward June bug found its way around Calvin's head and thwacked David smartly on the upper lip; its mate smeared itself across his face plate. He flinched, swore softly, and blinked back tears. When he could see again, they were on a straight, and Calvin was really winding the cycle out.

Moses, save me.
David gritted his teeth and hung on.

Over the MacTyrie bridge (eyes closed again), around a final series of blessedly more gradual curves, and MacTyrie loomed before them. Just inside the city limits they turned left onto Alec's street, then right into his drive. Calvin cut the engine and walked the cycle the last few yards out of courtesy to Dr. McLean's usual afternoon nap. David climbed off shakily and checked his watch as casually as he could. At least his britches were still dry.

The watch read 2:35 P.M., which meant they had made the journey in eighteen minutes and thirty-six seconds—a new record. And they could probably have made it even faster had not the main road been out. Instead of turning down the Sullivan Cove road and then onto the main drag—and into the trickling traffic—Calvin had turned left at the bottom of the driveway, then cut through the church environs. From there it had been a short jog overland, following the trail into Coker Hollow, where they'd jumped the creek and cut into the main highway above the break. Traffic had been heavy at first, but Calvin had proven expert at weaving in and out of it, using the shoulder when necessary, but with absolutely no regard for David's nerves, which were as shot as they'd ever been.

As if sensing David's distress Calvin turned and grinned at him. “You okay, man? You look a little pale even for a paleface. Or is that maybe a touch of green?” The grin widened wickedly.

David exhaled in relief. “Jesus, Man…I think you left my stomach somewhere back in Enotah…and my right kneecap 'bout three miles up the road.”

“Oh, come on, I didn't take that curve
that
tight.”

“I don't know about that…I started to scream and sucked up three hundred feet of ants and two dead possums!”

“My ass!”

“Yeah, and that's another thing. I think mine's up 'round my shoulder blades. Did you
have
to jump the creek like that?”

“It was faster than going 'round.”

David aimed a kick at Galvin's denimed backside and followed him up the sidewalk between the dogwoods and banks of ivy that comprised most of the yard.

A camo-clad Alec opened the front door before they could knock, and David shivered at the blast of air-conditioning. Alec's mom was from Wyoming and had never truly adjusted to either the heat or humidity of Georgia summers—of which the present one had been a particularly virulent example in both regards.

Calvin had not removed his helmet yet, and Alec was staring at him in confusion.

David raised an eyebrow. “One mysterious visitor comin' up.”

Calvin flipped up the tinted plastic, and Alec's face broke into a grin that stretched from ear to ear. He reached out to shake hands and found himself drawn into a hearty hug.

“Hey, man, how's it
goin'
?”
Alec managed to croak as he tried to slap Calvin's back.

“Not too bad,” Calvin replied in his most innocuous tone as he set Alec back down. “How's your own bad—” He stopped himself a hiss short of “self,” and David guessed he was fearful of resurrecting the negative memories he knew that term evoked for Alec. “How're
you
making it?” he finished lamely.

“Dandy, just dandy,” Alec answered, still beaming, “—'cept for the blessed rain,” he added with a peculiar half-snarl.

A vigorous nod. “Yeah,
tell
me about it.”

“If you'll tell me 'bout what
you've
been up to,” Alec shot back.

“You got two hours?” David groaned.

“I got all day!” Alec cried airily. “I'll just go get us a couple of D.P.s, then we can head upstairs.”

“D.P.s?” Calvin wondered, when Alec had darted off.

“Doctor Peppers,” David replied. “It's sort of his and my totem beverage.”

“Ah,” said Calvin. “I know all about totems.”

David started.
“
Do
you? You've never told me yours.”

“I have too,” Calvin assured him. “Just not with my voice.”

David was still staring at him when Alec thrust an ice-cold can into his hand.

*

“So,” Alec wondered five minutes later, “what's up? What's all this hush-hush stuff?”

David took a long swallow from his D.P. and exchanged troubled glances with Calvin. “Well, gee, man: it's like this…you know what's been goin' on with the weather and all, and what I think about it, right? Well, Calvin's got an idea about it, too: a real disturbin' one, and some evidence to back it up. But we can't prove anything without your help.”

Alec frowned uncertainly. “I'm not sure I want to hear any more.”

“Yeah, but you really ought to anyway. See—”

“Let me tell him,” Calvin interrupted. “Look, McLean, it's like this…”

He went on then, recounting the details of his most recent visit to Galunlati.

“Whew!” Alec whistled when he had finished. “You really think it's that bad? That the war in Faerie could have a negative effect on the friggin'
sun
?
I mean, look folks, fooling around with the weather's one thing, but the sun's ninety-zillion miles from here and Sagan only knows how many times bigger than the whole friggin' planet! You're telling me that the actions of a couple of Faery dudes are gonna mess up the
sun
?”

“I said it
might
,”
Calvin replied a little irritably, “It sure seems to be havin' that effect in Galunlati. It's smaller than this world, don't forget, and not as massive. It'd therefore be more susceptible to anything that messed with the gravity over there, just like it's easier to fool with the moon than the sun.”

Alec frowned again. “Maybe so. Let me think about it a while, okay? I never can keep the physics straight on that.”

“Uh, yeah…but, well, uh—there's something
else
we need for you to do,” David said carefully. “And we don't have a while for this one.”

A thick black eyebrow lifted. “Like what?”

David took a deep breath. “We need to find out what's goin' on in Faerie. Maybe if we know what's happenin' there we can do something to forestall further disaster, both here
and
there. Use the ulunsuti,” he added, as calmly and sincerely as he could. “Use it to spy on Faerie. Maybe that way we can at least be forewarned. We might even use it to get word to them about what all their foolin' around's doin' to us.”

“No,” Alec stated flatly, not meeting David's eyes. “No deal.”