was so unexpected, and so strange. So damned confusing.
“Look here,” Andy said. He did something to his computer. The words disappeared and a picture blossomed on the screen.
“This is London,” he said.
An Entity starship standing in a field, a park, some broad flat expanse of greenery. Half a dozen colossal Entities solemnly parading toward it in single file, stepping aboard a platform, riding up toward the hatch that opened for them in the starship’s side. The hatch closing. The ship rising on a column of flame.
“You see?” Andy cried. “The same thing, all over the world. They’re tired of being here. They’re bored with Earth. They’re going home, Frank!”
So it seemed. Frank began to laugh.
“Yes. Pretty fucking funny, isn’t it?” Andy said.
“Very funny, yes. A riot.” The laughter was coming from Frank in unstoppable gales. He fought to pull himself together. “We sit up on this mountainside for fifty years trying to figure out ways of making them go away, and nothing works, and finally we decide that we’re simply never going to succeed. We give the whole thing up.
And then a couple of years later they go away anyhow, just like that. Why? Why?” He wasn’t laughing any more. “For God’s sake, Andy, why? What sense does any of it make?”
“Sense? You should know better than to expect anything that the Entities do to make sense to us. The Entities do what the Entities do, and we’re not meant to know why. And never will know, I guess.—Hey, you know something, Frank, you look like you’re almost about to cry!”
“I do?”
“You ought to see your face right now.”
“I don’t think I want to.” Frank turned away from Andy’s computers and wandered around the room, bewildered, confounded.
The possibility that all this might actually be happening was starting to sink in. And, as it did, he felt a sensation as of the ground liquefying beneath him, of the whole mountain atop which he stood turning plastic and insubstantial and beginning slowly to flow down itself toward the sea.
The Entities are leaving? Leaving? Leaving?
Then he should be dancing with glee. But no, no; he was lost in perplexity instead. His eyes stung with anger. And suddenly he understood why.
It maddened him that they might be gone from the world before he had found a way of driving them out. He realized in amazement that the sudden departure of the Entities, if indeed they had departed, would create a yawning vacancy in his soul. His hatred for their presence on Earth was a huge part of him; and if they were gone, without his ever having had a chance to express that hatred properly, it would leave a mighty absence where that presence had been.
Andy came up behind him.
“Frank? What’s going on, Frank?”
“It’s hard to explain. I feel so goddamned peculiar all of a sudden. It’s like—well, we had this big high holy purpose here, you know. Which was to get rid of the Entities. But we couldn’t bring it off, and then it happened anyway, without our even lifting a finger, and here we all are. Here. We. Are.”
“So? I don’t get what you’re saying.”
Frank groped for the right words. “What I’m saying is that I feel—I don’t know, some kind of letdown, I guess. A kind of hollowness. It’s like you push and push against a door all your life, and the door won’t budge, and then you stop pushing and walk away, and then—Surprise! Surprise!—the door opens by itself. It bewilders you, you know what I mean? It unsettles you.”
“I suppose it would, yes. I can see that.”
But Frank saw that Andy didn’t see it at all. And then his thoughts raced off in the other direction entirely. None of this could actually be occurring. It was idiotic to believe that any such thing as a voluntary Entity withdrawal was going on.
He nodded toward the screen. “Look, what if what we see here isn’t real?”
Andy gave him a vexed look. “Of course it’s real. How can it not be real?”
“You of all people shouldn’t need to ask that. It could be some kind of hacker hoax, couldn’t it? You know more about these things than I do. Couldn’t it be that somebody has worked up all these pictures, these bulletins, and sent them out over the Net, and that there isn’t a shred of truth to any of them? That would be possible, wouldn’t it?”
“Possible, yes. But I don’t think that’s what’s happening.” Andy smiled. “If you want, though, we could check it out at first hand, you know.”
“I don’t understand. How?”
“Get in a car. Drive down to Los Angeles right now.”
They made the journey in just two and a half hours, which was an hour less than usual. The roads were deserted. The LACON checkpoints were unmanned.
The route Frank had chosen brought them into the city via the Pacific Coast Highway, which took them along the western rim of the wall and delivered them to the Santa Monica gate. As he made his inland turn toward the wall he saw that the gate was wide open, and that there were no LACON functionaries anywhere in sight. He drove on through, into downtown Santa Monica.
“You see?” Andy asked. “You believe, now?”
Frank answered with a curt nod. He believed, yes. The unthinkable, altogether inexplicable thing seemed really to be true. But he was finding all of this harder to digest than he could ever have expected. It was as though some great inner wall cut him off from the joy he should be feeling over the bewildering departure of the Entities. What he felt instead of happiness was something closer to despair, a profound inner confusion. That was the last thing he would have expected to feel on a day like this.
It’s that sudden sense of absence, he thought. He saw that clearly now. The central purpose of his life had been stripped from him in the course of a single day, had been yanked away lightheartedly, almost flippantly, by the ever-mystifying beings from the stars, and it might not be easy for him to find a way to cope with that.
Frank parked the car a few blocks inside the wall, just at the edge of the old Third Street Promenade. There had been a huge shopping mall there once, but the shops had been abandoned long ago and boarded up. Santa Monica was a silent city. Here and there, little scatterings of people could be seen moving slowly about in a dazed, blank-faced way, as though they had been drugged, or were walking in their sleep, lost in trances. No one was looking at anyone else. No one was saying anything. They were like ghosts.
“I thought a wild celebration would be going on,” Frank said puzzledly. “People dancing in the streets.”
Andy shook his head. “No. Wrong, Frank. You don’t understand what they’re like, these people. You haven’t lived among them the way I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look over there.”
On the street facing the abandoned mall stood an old gray-walled high-rise building that bore the LACON insignia over its entrance. A small crowd had gathered in front of it: another group of silent, stunned people, standing side by side in five or six ragged lines, gazing upward at the building. A solitary LACON man stared back at them from a high window. He was pale, dead-eyed, frozen-faced.
Andy gestured toward the building. “There’s your celebration,” he said.
“I don’t get it. What’s he looking at them like that for? Is he afraid that they’re going to come upstairs and lynch him?”
“Maybe they will, later on. It wouldn’t take much to trigger it. But right now they just want him to give them the Entities back. And the look on his face is his way of saying that he can’t.”
“They want to have them back’?”
“They miss them, Frank. They love them. Don’t you get it?”
Frank swung around to face him. He felt his face growing hot. “Please don’t joke around with me, Andy. Not now.”
“I’m not joking. Put your mind to it, man. The Entities have been here since before either of us were born. Long before. They gave one little nudge and civilization simply fell apart, governments, armies, everything. And after they killed off something like half the population of the world to show that they meant business, they put a new
