Meanwhile, Adam sat down in the parlor with the hotel's proprietor to see what might be learned. Of course he had to remove his scarf, trenchcoat, and Fedora, but such was the calm dignity and clearly civilized nature of his bearing that Mr. Vanderberg overcame most of his initial discomfort very quickly. A gorilla with money, wearing a nice suit and slightly tinted spectacles to protect his pink eyes, and politely requesting tea, is hardly a gorilla at all....
    We've heard a lot about strange lights, Adam started. Strange things going on; have you seen any of these? What is your opinion?
    "Edgar... has problems," Mark replied slowly. "He must've been the one who told you. He's... I'm sure Jules mentioned to you, if you brought this up to him, that Edgar was in the Great War. Plus he... he's not actually from town."
    Really?
    "More north, up in the... his family had a house up in Ambajejus, and he's just been unwilling to give it up, and the people up there got a little... there's a certain size of town you have to have in Maine, so everyone feels properly... socialized," he said uncomfortably. As far as Adam could tell from his body language, he was telling the truth. "There have been some... lights, but... thundersnow is not that uncommon up here, and ball lightning. We've been assured by a scholar who moved into town that all of this is normal."
    Scholar? he questioned.
    "Yes, um, you saw the mansion up on the hill, the old house?"
    It was hard to miss
    "Miss Rajid bought it about ten years ago. She assures us it's just ball lightning, nothing to be concerned about. As for the other incidents... Edgar is a good man. Certainly, I understand that he contacted the authorities while he was down in Bath at one point, but they haven't sent anyone up to investigate, and I think that should tell you, they're just stories. I didn't mean to say anything bad about the Ambajejus area," he added quickly. "It you're looking into timber futures, there's the old mill up there, they tried to build a town up there. If money were to go back into it, there's quite a bit of potential up there. I know several of our local boys would be perfectly happy to go up there."
    You understand, we have to check into these things, Adam explained. People don't lightly invest money these days, as you understand.
    "Oh, of course, of course. You will be sticking around for at least a week?"
    Presumably; we're not sure. It depends on what we find, what our prospects seem to be.
    "The theater season begins next Saturday."
    Theater? Adam's ears pricked; he was, after all, a civilized gorilla.
    "And there's the annual town party...."
    
    Also meanwhile, Kane decided that as the intruder, it would be prudent for him to locate the resident vampire and come to an understanding immediately, rather than waiting to be found and perhaps misunderstood. A quick stroll around the town under the comfortably clouded sky proved that she lived in the big mansion on the hill. The aura was low-key, suggesting that she didn't go out much, but present throughout the town; he saw people on the street and knew they belonged to her, something beyond his own abilities as yet.
    He climbed the hill to the mansion, which was very well kept up, far better than the hotel in fact. Some of the town's out of work burly types appeared to have found employment here; one of them met him on the front steps, before he'd even reached the door.
    "Can I help you?" the man asked dubiously, glancing at his government suit, relatively light coat, and aviator sunglasses.
    "Yes, I believe the owner's expecting me."
    "May I give a name?"
    "Kane."
    "One moment." He tramped up the stairs and opened the front door, giving a suspicious glance back. A moment later he returned. "You may come in, Mr. Kane."
    "Thank you."
    "May I get you something to... drink? Wine, perhaps?"
    "No, but I appreciate the offer."
    "If you'll come through here."
    He followed the servant into the parlor; the curtains were drawn, and a single candle burned over to one side of the room. There was a young woman sitting a chair near the empty fireplace.
    "Mr. Kane, is it?"
    "Yes."
    "You may shut the door."
    "Thank you." He did.
    "It's good to see that you're paying... formal respects," she smiled slightly.
    "No need to be rude," he shrugged.
    "My name is Yasmina Rajid."
    "Kane Roberts."
    "And what are you doing in my town? I find it unlikely it's actually timber prospecting."
    "No. I really do have to find out who writes those things one day." He shook his head.
    She tilted hers slightly. "Strange...."
    "What?"
    "I don't know who writes those things. What an obscurely convoluted bureaucracy. My compliments."
    "I'm looking into events taking place in the state park."
    "Ah. The flashing lights, and...?"
    "Things forcing pilots out of the air, devouring his passengers, stuff like that."
    "It was not me, of course."
    "I was rather assuming. Your operation around here seems to be relatively low-key."
    "Are you... familiar with the Twilight, Mr. Roberts?"
    "Not with the inflection you seem to be putting on it."
    She spoke very softly. "It is the... sea of probability, everything that could have happened but didn't. Like any sea there are islands inside it. Sometimes those islands rub up against our reality. Given sufficiently large magical force, you can generate events, make things that should have happened once not happen, happen as you see fit, creating a bubble in which reality conforms to a new set of rules. One of those bubbles is currently brushing up against us. I don't expect it to last long."

| Top |