dk.coldfire-第69章

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　〃You　are　How　can　you　doubt　it？　But　regardless　of　whether　you　believe　my　intentions　to　be　good　or　evil；　I　would　never　release　you。〃　The　ominous　tone　of　that　last　statement　mitigated　the　relief　Jim　felt　at　the　reassurance　that　he　had　not　saved　the　lives　of　future　murderers　and　thieves。　
　Holly　said；　〃Why　have　you…〃　The　Friend　interrupted。　〃There　is　one　other　reason　that　I　chose　Jim　Ironheart　for　this　work。　〃　〃What's　that？〃　Jim　asked。　
　〃You　needed　it〃　〃I　did？〃　〃Purpose。〃　Jim　understood。　His　fear　of　The　Friend　was　as　great　as　ever；　but　he　was　moved　by　the　implication　that　it　had　wanted　to　salvage　him。　
　By　giving　meaning　to　his　broken　and　empty　life；　it　had　redeemed　him　just　as　surely　as　it　had　saved　Billy　Jenkins；　Susie　Jawolski；　and　all　the　others；　though　they　had　been　rescued　from　more　immediate　deaths　than　the　death　of　the　soul　that　had　threatened　Jim。　The　Friend's　statement　seemed　to　reveal　a　capacity　for　pity。　And　Jim　knew　he'd　deserved　pity　after　the　suicide　of　Larry　Kakonis；　when　he　had　spiraled　into　an　unreasonable　depression。　
　This　passion；　even　if　it　was　another　lie；　affected　Jim　more　strongly　than　he　would　have　expected；　and　a　shimmer　of　tears　came　to　his　eyes。　
　Holly　said；　〃Why　have　you　waited　ten　thousand　years　to　decide　to　use　someone　like　Jim　to　shape　human　destinies？〃　〃I　had　to　study　the　situation　first　collect　data；　analyze　it；　and　then　decide　if　my　intervention　was　wise。　〃　〃It　took　ten　thousand　years　to　make　that　decision？　Why？　That's　longer　than　recorded　history。〃　
　No　reply。　
　She　tried　the　question　again。　
　At　last　The　Friend　said；　〃I　am　going　now〃　Then；　as　if　it　did　not　want　them　to　interpret　its　recent　display　of　passion　as　a　sign　of　weakness；　it　added：　if　you　attempt　to　leave；　you　will　die〃　〃When　will　you　be　back？〃　Holly　asked。　
　〃Do　not　sleep。　〃　〃We're　going　to　have　to　sleep　sooner　or　later；〃　Holly　said　as　the　amber　light　turned　red　and　the　room　seemed　to　be　washed　in　blood。　
　〃Do　not　sleep。　〃　〃It's　two　in　the　morning；〃　she　said。　
　〃Dreams　are　doorways。〃　Holly　flared　up：　〃We　can't　stay　awake　forever；　damn　it！〃　The　light　in　the　limestone　was　snuffed　out。　
　The　Friend　was　gone。　
　Somewhere　people　laughed。　Somewhere　music　played　and　dancers　danced；　and　somewhere　lovers　strained　toward　ecstasy。　
　But　in　the　high　room　of　the　mill；　designed　for　storage　and　now　stacked　to　the　ceiling　with　an　anticipation　of　violence；　the　mood　was　decidedly　grim。　
　Holly　loathed　being　so　helpless。　Throughout　her　life　she　had　been　a　woman　of　action；　even　if　the　actions　she　took　were　usually　destructive　rather　than　constructive。　When　a　job　turned　out　to　be　less　satisfying　than　she　had　hoped；　she　never　hesitated　to　resign；　move　on。　
　When　a　relationship　soured　or　just　proved　uninteresting；　she　was　always　quick　to　terminate　it。　
　If　she　had　often　retreated　from　problems…from　the　responsibilities　of　being　a　conscientious　journalist　when　she　had　seen　that　journalism　was　as　corrupt　as　anything　else；　from　the　prospect　of　love；　from　putting　down　roots　and　mitting　to　one　place…well；　at　least　retreat　was　a　form　of　action。　Now　she　was　denied　even　that。　
　The　Friend　had　that　one　good　effect　on　her。　It　was　not　going　to　let　her　retreat　from　this　problem。　
　For　a　while　she　and　Jim　discussed　the　latest　visitation　and　went　over　the　remaining　questions　on　her　list；　to　which　they　made　changes　and　additions。　The　most　recent　portion　of　her　ongoing　interview　with　The　Friend　had　resulted　in　some　interesting　and　potentially　useful　information。　It　was　only　potentially　useful；　however；　because　they　both　still　felt　that　nothing　The　Friend　said　could　be　relied　upon　to　be　true。　
　By　3　：15　in　the　morning；　they　were　too　weary　to　stand　and　too　to　continue　sitting。　They　pulled　their　sleeping　bags　together　and　stretched　out　side　by　side；　on　their　backs；　staring　at　the　domed　ceiling。　
　To　help　guard　against　sleep；　they　left　the　gas　lantern　at　its　brightest　setting。　As　they　waited　for　The　Friend　to　return；　they　kept　talking；　not　about　anything　of　importance；　small　talk　of　every　kind；　anything　to　keep　their　minds　occupied。　It　was　difficult　to　doze　off　in　the　middle　of　a　conversation；　and　if　one　did　slip　away；　the　other　would　know　it　by　the　lack　of　a　response。　They　also　held　hands；　her　right　in　his　left…the　logic　being　that　even　during　a　brief　pause　in　the　conversation；　if　one　of　them　started　to　take　a　nap；　the　other　would　be　warned　by　the　sudden　relaxation　of　the　sleeper's　grip。　
　Holly　did　not　expect　to　have　difficulty　staying　awake。　In　her　university　days　she　had　pulled　all…nighters　before　exams　or　when　papers　were　due；　and　had　stayed　awake　for　thirty…six　hours　without　much　of　a　struggle。　
　During　her　early　years　as　a　reporter；　when　she'd　still　believed　that　journalism　mattered　to　her；　she　had　labored　away　all　night　on　a　story；　poring　over　research　or　listening　yet　again　to　interview　tapes　or　sweating　over　the　wording　of　a　paragraph。　She　had　missed　nights　of　sleep　in　recent　years；　as　well；　if　only　because　she　was　occasionally　plagued　by　insomnia。　She　was　a　night　owl　by　nature　anyway。　Piece　of　cake。　
　But　though　she　had　not　yet　been　awake　twenty…four　hours　since　bolting　out　of　bed　in　Laguna　Niguel　yesterday　morning；　she　felt　the　sandman　sliding　up　against　her；　whispering　his　subliminal　message　of　sleep；　sleep；　sleep。　The　past　few　days　had　been　a　blur　of　activity　and　personal　change；　both　of　which　could　be　expected　to　take　a　toll　of　her　resources。　And　some　nights　she　had　gotten　too　little　rest；　only　in　part　because　of　the　dreams　Dreams　are　doorways。　Sleep　was　dangerous；　she　had　to　stay　awake。　Damn　it；　she　shouldn't　need　sleep　this　badly　yet；　no　matter　how　much　stress　she　had　been　under　lately。　She　struggled　to　keep　up　her　end　of　the　conversation　with　Jim；　even　though　at　times　she　realized　that　she　was　not　sure　what　they　were　talking　about　and　did　not　fully　understand　the　words　that　came　out　of　her　own　mouth。　Dreams　are　doorways。　It　was　almost　as　if　she　had　been　drugged；　or　as　if　The　Friend；　after　warning　them　against　sleep；　was　secretly　exerting　pressure　on　a　narcoleptic　button　in　her　brain。　Dreams　are　doorways。　She　fought　against　the　descending　oblivion；　but　she　found　that　she　did　not　possess　the　strength　or　will　to　sit　up。　。　。　or　to　open　her　eyes。　
　Her　eyes　were　closed。　She　had　not　realized　that　her　eyes　were　closed。　
　Dreams　are　doorways。　Panic　could　not　arouse　her。　She　continued　to　drift　deeper　under　the　sandman's　spell　even　as　she　heard　her　heart　pound　harder　and　faster。　She　felt　her　hand　loosening　its　grip　on　Jim's　hand；　and　she　knew　he　would　respond　to　that　warning；　would　keep　her　awake；　but　she　felt　his　grip　loosening　on　her　hand；　and　she　realized　they　were　succumbing　to　the　sandman　simultaneously。　
　She　drifted　in　darkness。　
　She　felt　that　she　was　being　watched。　
　It　was　both　a　reassuring　and　a　frightening　feeling。　
　Something　was　going　to　happen。　She　sensed　it。　
　For　a　while；　however；　nothing　happened。　Except　darkness。　
　Then　she　became　aware　that　she　had　a　mission　to　perform。　
　But　that　couldn't　be　right。　Jim　was　the　one　who　was　sent　on　missions　not　her。　
　A　mission。　Her　mission。　She　would　be　sent　on　a　mission　of　her　own。　
　It　was　vitally　important。　Her　life　depended　on　how　well　she　performed。　
　Jim's　life　depended　on　it　as　well。　The　whole　world's　continued　existence　depended　on　it。　
　But　the　darkness　remained。　
　She　just　drifted。　It　felt　nice。　
　She　slept　and　slept。　
　At　some　point　during　the　night；　she　dreamed。　As　nightmares　went；　this　one　was　a　lulu；　all　the　stops　pulled　out；　but　it　was　nothing　like　her　recent　dreams　of　the　mill　and　The　Enemy。　It　was　worse　than　those　because　it　was　painted　in　excruciating　detail　and　because　throughout　the　experience　she　was　in　the　grip　of　anguish　and　terror　so　intense　that　nothing　in　her　experience　prepared　her　for　it；　not　even　the　crash　of　Flight　246。　
　Lying　on　a　tile　floor；　under　a　table。　On　her　side。　Peering　out　at　floor　level。　Directly　ahead　is　a　chair；　tubular　metal　and　orange　plastic；　under　the　chair　a　scattering　of　golden　french　fries　and　a　cheeseburger；　the　meat　having　slid　halfway　out　of　the　bun　on　a　skid　of　ketchup…greased　lettuce。　
　Then　a　woman；　an　old　lady；　also　lying　on　the　floor；　head　turned　toward　Holly。　Looking　through　th