had instructed Sophie in the Magic of Air, he had been dismissed; now he d
been dismissed again. He was quickly realizing that in this new magical
world, there was no place for someone like him, someone without power.
Josh slowly climbed the narrow winding stairs that led up to Saint-Germain s
office. Whatever Josh had been expecting to find in the attic, it was not the
huge brightly lit white wood and chrome room. The attic ran the length of the
entire house and had been remodeled into one vast open space, with an arched
window looking over the Champs-Elys es at one end. The enormous room was
filled with electronics and musical instruments, but there was no sign of
Saint-Germain.
Against the right wall, a long table stretched from one end of the space to
the other. It was piled high with computers, both desktops and laptops,
screens of all shapes and sizes, synthesizers, a mixing desk, keyboards and
electronic drum kits.
On the opposite side of the room a trio of electric guitars were perched on
stands, while an assortment of keyboards were arranged around an enormous LCD
screen.
How do you feel? Saint-Germain asked.
It took Josh a second to identify where the voice was coming from. The
musician was lying flat on his back under the table, a bundle of USB cables
in his hands. Good, Josh said, and was surprised to find that it was true.
He felt better than he had in a long time. I don't even remember lying
down .
You were both exhausted, physically and mentally. And I understand the
leygates suck every last drop of energy from you. Not that I ve ever traveled
through one, he added. To be truthful, I was surprised you were still on
your feet, Saint-Germain muttered as he dropped the cables. you've slept
for about fourteen hours.
Josh knelt alongside Saint-Germain. What are you trying to do?
I moved a monitor and the cable fell out; I m not sure which one it is.
You should color code them with tape, Josh said. That s what I do.
Straightening, he caught the end of the cable that was attached to the
wide-screen monitor and jerked it up and down. It s this one. The cable
twitched in Saint-Germain s hands.
Thanks!
The monitor suddenly flickered to life, displaying a screen filled with
sliders and knobs.
Saint-Germain climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. He was wearing
clothes identical to Josh s. They fit. He nodded. And they look good on
you. You should wear black more often.
Thanks for the clothes . He stopped. I don't know how we re going to be
able to pay you back, though.
Francis laughed quickly. They weren t a loan, they were a gift. I don't want
them back.
Before Josh could thank him again, Saint-Germain hit the keyboard and Josh
jumped as a series of heavy piano chords thumped out from hidden speakers.
don't worry, the attic is soundproofed, Saint-Germain said. It ll not wake
Sophie.
Josh nodded at the screen. Do you write all your music on computer?
Just about. Saint-Germain looked around the room. Anyone can make music
now; you don't need much more than a computer, some software, patience and a
lot of imagination. If I need some real instruments for a final mix, I ll
hire musicians. But I can do most things here.
I downloaded some beat-detection software once, Josh admitted. But I could
never get it right.
What do you compose?
Well, I m not sure you d call it composing . I put together some ambient
mixes.
I d love to listen to anything you have.
It s all gone. I lost my computer, my cell phone and my iPod when Yggdrasill
was destroyed. Even saying it aloud made him feel sick. And the worst part
was that he really had no idea exactly what he d lost. I lost my summer
project and all my music, and that was about ninety gigs. I had some great
bootlegs. I ll never be able to replace them. He sighed. I also lost
hundreds of photos; all the places Mom and Dad took us. Our parents are
scientists they re archaeologists and paleontologists, he added, so we ve
seen some amazing places.
Lost everything! That s got to be tough, Saint-Germain sympathized. What
about backups?
The stricken look on Josh s face was all the answer the count needed.
Were you a Mac or a PC user?
Both, actually. Dad uses PCs at home, but most of the schools Sophie and I
have gone to use Macs. Sophie loves her Macs, but I prefer a PC, he said.
If anything goes wrong, I can usually pull it apart and fix it myself.
Saint-Germain walked to the end of the table and rummaged around underneath
it. He pulled out three laptops, different brands and screen sizes, and lined
them up on the floor. He gestured dramatically. Take one.
Josh blinked at him in surprise. Take one?
They re all PCs, Saint-Germain continued, and they re no use to me. I ve
completely switched over to Macs now.
Josh looked from Saint-Germain to the laptops and back to the musician again.
He d just met this man, didn't know him, and here he was offering Josh a
choice of three expensive laptops. He shook his head. Thanks, but I
couldn't.
Why not? Saint-Germain demanded.
And Josh had no answer for that.
You need a computer. I m offering you one of these. I would be pleased if
you took it. Saint-Germain smiled. I grew up in an age when gift giving was
an art. I have found that people in this century really do not know how to
accept a gift gracefully.
I don't know what to say.
How about thank you? Saint-Germain suggested.
Josh grinned. Yes. Well thank you, he said hesitantly. Thank you'very
much. Even as he was speaking, he knew which machine he wanted: the tiny
one-inch-thick laptop with an eleven-inch screen.
Saint-Germain dug around under the table and extracted three power cords that
he dropped onto the floor alongside the machines. I m not using them.
They ll probably never be used again. I ll end up reformatting the hard
drives and giving the machines to the local schools. Take whichever one you
