The Grays

sky.

CONNER SAT QUIETLY BETWEEN PAULIE and Amy in the van’s third row of seats. In front of them, Mom and Lauren helped his dad.

He could feel his dad suffering, could hear whispers of fear coming from the implant that connected the two of them, but he intended to be very, very careful in listening to what it broadcast, to use it only if it was absolutely necessary. He wanted his dad’s love, not his fear.

As he listened to the humming of the tires and the soft voices of the adults, and Terry’s miserable sobs, he kept feeling an absence in him, and the more he felt it, the more he came to understand that it was the absence of the collective. For a little while, being part of it had felt like a kind of music in him, and he knew that he could conduct that music, could make it bright and great and true.

One day, perhaps, he would be strong enough to reach the collective on his own, to join it to his mind. Until he could, though, he would be in the most profound sense blind.

He needed the Three Thieves, they were woven into his being, part of him. Without them, he could feel the vague, distant presence of the collective calling to him, Conner, Conner, but he could not answer, not without the mind of the Three Thieves to amplify and relay his response.

Conner swept out of his body and through the snowy woods, following a glowing silver wire that connected him to a burned place near the Niederdorfer’s fence, where lay a pitiful little mess of rags and sticks and empty black eyes.

Wake up, he said in the secret air of the mind, come back to me.

There was stirring in the snow, but only a little, for the damage the Two had endured was very great.

A sentence came to Conner, Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken… and he knew that it was the love written in the bible, a secret code for those who know.

“Behold,” he murmured, “he comes leaping on the mountains…”

And in the field, broken flesh fluttered in the night wind.

In the seat in front of him, Terry Kelton sobbed, his head hanging low on his chest.

Conner thought, I can help him. He did not know how it was or why it was that he could leave his body so easily. He knew all about out-of-body travel, of course, he’d experimented with it, as he had with remote viewing and all such things, because he understood the physics of superposition, and how it was that the electrons in the brain, during meditation, would become ambiguous, no longer in any one place, and you could use that to prowl in hidden pathways.

He slipped upward and outward, and saw, in his mind’s eye, four Air Force guys with two aluminum gurneys in the snow. He looked at the faces of the victims, and saw that John and Mrs. Kelton were alive. “Your mom and dad made it,” he told Terry. “You lost your brother and Manrico.”

Terry turned around. “How do you—”

Conner met his eyes. Your soul knows, he said inside himself. Terry blinked, then looked away and was silent for a time. Finally, a whisper: “Thanks for telling me.”

Conner had work to do. He brought to mind the Three Thieves as they had appeared last night, dumpy and scared, hiding behind the trees and terrified of making a mistake. He imagined them bobbing along in the night the way they had, so upset about scaring him, so unable to understand how not to.

I need you, he said in his mind.

His thought was met by silence.

They pulled into the Berryville Hospital emergency room. Medical personnel in green oversuits ran up, their portable stretcher rattling on the concrete driveway.

The Air Force helicopter roared into view, dropping down onto the hospital’s rooftop helipad.

Can you see who’s in it? Lauren asked in his head.

Conner went out of his body again, traveling up to the ceiling… and found that he could go through it… he saw up the legs of people, then went higher, up through the next ceiling. He was on the roof now, and he could see the Keltons lying strapped to their stretchers.

There was another man there, Lauren’s friend, the handsome officer with the mangled hand and the burns.

Then they brought out a fourth man. He had a narrow, careful face and rusty gray hair. He was in agony, his teeth bared, his head turning from side to side as he forced himself not to scream.

He raced back into his body. “It’s him,” he said, “he’s up there.”

“Who?” Lauren asked.

Conner knew what she wanted to know. Your friend.

Lauren burst into tears.

“Conner, what’s the matter with her?” Amy asked.

He shook his head. How could he explain?

“Conner,” Lauren whispered. Then, between their minds, You healed him, didn’t you?

I don’t know.

Amy’s hand slipped toward his—hesitant, trembling a little. He took it. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Paulie shook his head. “My sis is a piece of work, buddy.”

They sat side by side on blue plastic seats in the emergency waiting room. She smiled a little, and he saw one of the silver threads running between the two of them. He looked down at it where it disappeared under his shirt. With his free hand, he tried to touch it, but his hand went through it.

He met her eyes, and saw there a sparkle of love and hope. She closed them, and he saw her face change. She threw back her head and laughed, and he put his arm around her.

“Oh, boy,” Paulie said.

“Shut up, little boy,” Amy snapped. She kissed Conner on the cheek and giggled.

Mom and a doctor came out of a double door across the room. The doctor said, “Your dad’s going to be fine.”

Terry went to his feet. Behind the doctor, his parents had also come out. He ran to them, and the family embraced.

Mom sat down beside Conner, and put her arm around him. As he felt the comfort of the two women, his eyes closed.

“He sure goes to sleep fast,” Amy said.

“He’s your little boyfriend,” Paulie said.

“He’s been through a lot,” Katelyn responded, “he’s real tired.”

Behind them, a group of uniformed Air Force personnel ran into the emergency room.

“Who are they?” Paulie asked.

As they hurried through the double doors into the emergency room proper, Lauren saw Rob on his stretcher. Uttering a little cry, she went running to him. She held his face in her hands. He opened his eyes. A weak smile came. “You’re a hell of a sight,” he said, his voice a bare whisper.

She tried to smile. “Is that good or bad?”

“Good, lady. Real good.”

She kissed him then.

“Sir?”

Rob turned his head away from her. “Yes, Major?”

“We’re detailed to detain Colonel Wilkes.”

Lauren said, “Was he in the evac?”

“Yeah,” Rob said faintly. “Oh, yeah.”

AT THAT MOMENT, CHARLES GUNN was half pulling, half carrying Mike down a hallway. He heard voices behind them and went faster, pushing through an alarmed exit door, setting off a steady beeping behind them.

Charles’s TR was there, its hatch glowing with amber light from within. Otherwise it was invisible.