She considered her options and realized she only had two. She could remain in the locked vehicle until a police cruiser happened by, which could be hours from now, or she could get out and search for a phone booth. Neither choice held much appeal.
She looked at the glowing blue light in the distance again, pondering the sense of familiarity. Then she realized why she recognized it. The light was the same shade of azure blue that the Children of Earth, one of the largest of the Return cults, used to illuminate its temples.
This was just the sort of neighborhood the cult favored, she thought. She had read in the business pages that the Children of Earth had begun acquiring cheap real estate in depressed areas.
She hesitated a while longer and then made up her mind. She opened the door and got out. There was no sign of anyone around. She buttoned her coat, locked the car and pocketed the keys.
She set off briskly through the fog toward the beckoning blue light.
She did not hear the echo of a second set of footsteps behind her until she paused at an intersection. She froze at the hollow sound.
The footsteps halted.
She made herself whirl around and stare into the misty darkness. The dim beam of one of the few functioning street lamps revealed nothing.
She tightened her grip on the strap of her purse and stepped off the curb. The footsteps followed, moving more swiftly now, moving with purpose.
A thick fear rose in her throat. She broke into a run, heading toward the welcoming blue glow. She tried not to think about what she would do if the beacon turned out to be the lights of a billboard.
The footsteps picked up speed. Something about the solid ring of leather on stone told her that it was a man who pursued her. What's more, he was gaining. She knew that if she stayed on the sidewalk, he would likely overtake her.
She forced herself to think. He could not see any better in this fog than she could. He was using her footsteps to track her.
She veered off the sidewalk into what had once been someone's front yard. Her shoes made no sound on the bare ground which had been softened by a recent rain. She plunged into the darkness that separated two dilapidated buildings.
The footsteps paused on the sidewalk. She prayed that she had confused her pursuer.
A moment later, when she emerged into an overgrown backyard, she was relieved to see that the blue glow was much closer now. It illuminated a globe-shaped roof that rose above the empty single-story houses around it. The music of a horn-harp reached her. Definitely a Children of Earth temple. Surely the monks would let her use a phone.
She made her way cautiously across the yard. The last thing she wanted to do now was trip over an old fence or fall into an abandoned pool. She listened intently, but she could not hear any more footsteps. There was no way to know if her pursuer had given up or if he was now moving silently over the damp ground, just as she was.
A frisson of awareness clawed at the nape of her neck with icy fingers just as she started across another backyard. When she glanced over her shoulder she thought she detected a shadow moving in the fog. Panic threatened to engulf her. She broke into a full run, heedless of hidden obstacles.
Panting for breath, she raced around the corner of another abandoned house. The bright blue lights of the temple blazed straight ahead. She could see a number of people dressed in a variety of colorful hooded robes. They were milling casually about on the front steps.
She was safe. Whoever had followed her was hardly likely to try to grab her in front of so many witnesses.
She slowed her pace and tried to catch her breath as she crossed the street. A group of Children of Earth monks dressed in green robes turned to stare as she hurried toward them. She noticed that everyone who wore green had shaved his or her head. Those who were dressed in black wore their hair in long pony-tails. The handful of people garbed in yellow wore braids that were coiled on top of their heads. Obviously there was a hierarchy here, she thought. She wondered who outranked whom.
One of the men dressed in green came down the steps to greet her. 'Welcome, Seeker. I am called Hiram.' He folded his arms and bowed from the waist. 'Will you join us for tonight's Curtain Call?'
Zinnia came to a breathless halt and pushed her hair back off her face. 'No, not exactly. My car stalled a few blocks from here. May I please use your phone?'
'Of course. The Children of Earth offer assistance to all who seek. Please come inside.' Hiram gestured toward the wide doors of the temple.
'Thanks, Hiram. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this.'
'The ways of the Curtain are often obscure. Perhaps you have been summoned.' Hiram ascended the steps and led her into the dimly lit entry hall of the temple.
'I don't think so.' Zinnia wrinkled her nose at the scent of incense. She had never been inside a Return cult temple. Few people who were not members had.
Intelligent people ignored the cults as much as possible, dismissing them as financial shams. The Children of Earth were considered weird at best and diabolical at worst. But those families which had lost offspring to the temples favored legal action to put the Children of Earth out of business.
The outlandish attire of the cult members together with their use of aggressive panhandling to raise funds were enough to irritate the average person. Their ridiculous, wholly unscientific theories about the energy Curtain that had once provided a gateway between Old Earth and St. Helens disgusted scientists and outraged the academic crowd. The mainstream churches were appalled by what they saw as more than a passing flirtation with the occult.
Zinnia discovered that she was willing to be very tolerant tonight in exchange for the use of a telephone.
On the far side of the hushed entry hall she saw two great swaths of azure blue velvet draped across the entrance to the temple's auditorium. She peeked between the folds and caught a glimpse of several tiers of blue seats. They were arranged in a semicircle around an elevated stage. Behind the stage hung a white velvet curtain. It framed a massive painting; an artist's rendition of Old Earth.
Zinnia had seen many similar pictures in textbooks when she was in school. No one could be absolutely certain what the old planet looked like because all of the original pictures and photos had been lost when the First Generation data banks crumbled into dust. The Founders had left sketches and paintings and descriptions, however, which had been reinterpreted by generations of artists. During the past two hundred years since the closing of the Curtain, any number of variations on the theme had appeared.
Judging from the paintings and drawings she had seen, Zinnia supposed that Earth was a pretty enough planet, but she doubted that it could be as beautiful as the lush green world of St. Helens. Like most people, she had no desire to return to the mother world. It was little more than a legend. St. Helens was home.
Only the Return cults obsessed on the possibility that the Curtain would someday reopen. Their members had convinced themselves that Old Earth was a Utopian place, a perfect world fit for perfect people.
'You should consider the possibility that you were deliberately chosen to be summoned here tonight, Miss Spring. The Call of the Curtain often comes in mysterious ways.' Hiram's robes swayed gently as he walked beside Zinnia down a thickly carpeted corridor. 'Seekers are led here by many different avenues.'
'I'm sure they are. I came by way of High View Street, myself. With a couple of detours through some backyards.'
Hiram smiled patiently. 'Perhaps the fact that your car stalled in our neighborhood will prove to be an example of the Curtain Call in action.'
'Anything's possible, I suppose.' Zinnia did not want to insult him. 'But at the moment the only urge I feel is a need to call someone who can give me a ride home.'
'Earth is our true home, Miss Spring.' Hiram's expression was infused with the serenity of an inner vision. 'But only those who are pure of heart and spirit will return when the Curtain rises once again.'
'Uh-huh.' The last thing she wanted to do was argue theology with Hiram. 'Where is your phone?'
'In here, Miss Spring.' He ushered her through another door and into a surprisingly ordinary office. 'Help yourself. I must leave to assist with the preparations for this evening's services.'
'Thank you, Hiram. You've been very kind.'
