Frank turned back to stare at the unwinding ribbon of highway, growled, “Oh, well, that explains everything.”
“Try to understand what I am going to say to you,” she continued anxiously. “There is a problem with the Spinner. The One Who Spins. Who Modulates.”
“Spins what?” Wendy had come forward to listen. She was frightened and exhilarated and scared and exultant all at once. Mouse turned to smile at her. Though the difference in their ages did not appear great, Wendy was conscious of an immense gap between them. For some reason it didn’t intimidate her.
“The fabric of existence.” Mouse plucked at her rainbow sari dress. “This stuff, only new. This is fashioned of old existence; forgotten memories and lost history. Places that were but are no longer. Thoughts no longer vital. I wear the echoes of what was once. The Spinner weaves the threads of what is and will be.
“Therein lies the trouble. Almost always the Spinner spins smoothly and without interruption. Only very, very rarely does it suffer distress. When that happens, the fabric of existence becomes tangled, begins to unravel in places. Instead of unwinding in intricate patterns of logic, lines of existence twist and tangle. It is a matter of stress.”
“How do you fix something like that?” Wendy asked the question without being sure what she was asking about.
“By relaxing the Spinner. By soothing it. By helping it resume its former natural rhythm. You cure such problems among yourselves, infinitesimally minor, with medicines. There is not enough medicine in the universe to adjust the Spinner’s rhythm. It requires something much more powerful and elusive.” The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “It requires music.
“On the line of existence where I come from, music is our art and our science rolled into one. We are the consummate musicians of our age. And since music is very much a universal constant, something your people are only just coming to discover, we can survive the crossing from one line of existence to another. Among those of us who are considered gifted, I was the one chosen to try to reach the Spinner to soothe it. To regulate it with song. I was told it would be difficult and dangerous. In this I have thus far not been disappointed.
“I am not alone. Others will strive to reach the Spinner by other lines. But I was given the best chance. I cannot fail. I cannot assume that if I do so, another will be successful. And time is growing short.”
“And this ‘Spinner’ whatsis, it lives at this Vanishing Point place?” Frank asked dubiously.
“Where else would the Spinner exist?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” he muttered sarcastically.
“What happens if you don’t get to this Vanishing Point in time?” Wendy wondered.
“Then,” Mouse declared solemnly, “the fabric of existence will continue to tangle and unravel. Some lines will abruptly cease to exist, while many will cross and intertwine, to the destruction and detriment of all.” She moved forward until she was standing close to the back of Alicia’s chair. “That’s why the countryside here has appeared different to you.”
“What about those—creatures,” Alicia asked. “Why did they attack us?”
“Because my journey is opposed. I was told it might be.”
“So those things were after you, not us,” Frank said. “Same with that station attendant.” She nodded.
“But if what you’re trying to do is for the good of everyone, why would anyone want to stop you?” Wendy wondered.
“Not for the good of everything.” Mouse turned her gaze to the road ahead. “There is Chaos. To it the tangling and unraveling of the lines of existence would be a final fulfillment. Once, eons ago, it almost achieved this, but the Spinner was modulated and the fabric of existence saved. Periodically, small lines of existence do break or knot. Your own line has several knots in it. Once, when plant life appeared. Again, when the creatures you call dinosaurs became extinct. But these were only knots, not breaks. Small interruptions to an otherwise intact and undamaged line.”
“‘Small,’” Frank mumbled.
“Each time a line knots, or breaks, or tangles, the Cosmos moves a little nearer utter Chaos. When the lines are straight and smooth, when logic and reason rule the Spinner’s actions, civilization advances everywhere. Chaos is pushed back, its dominion reduced. One day in the unbelievably far future it may be eliminated altogether. Then peace and understanding may pass between the lines, and all organized intelligence everywhere may come to know one another.
“Chaos is a poor pursuer. Relentless, but by its very nature disorganized. That is its weakness and our strength. Unfortunately, it has an ally. What you would call Evil. In all its forms it serves as an ally and friend to Chaos, for where Chaos reigns, Evil prospers. So Chaos seeks, by means we are not certain of, to enlist Evil in all its forms to aid it. That is one reason why singers such as myself do not travel in groups where we would be conspicuous. Individuals can slip and slide and hide themselves among various lines of existence, escaping the notice of Evil.”
“That attendant!” Wendy said with a start.
Mouse nodded. “He was certainly searching for me, but my smell was submerged among your own.” She looked down at Frank. “Even so he would have found me out if not for your quick thinking.”
“How come I don’t feel better?”
Mouse put a fine hand on his shoulder and then he did feel better. Warm and admired. He thought about shrugging it away but did not. “It is a great thing you are doing, Frank Sonderberg. Greater than you know.”
“Don’t get melodramatic. I’m just trying to get my family and myself to Las Vegas. For a vacation.” He snorted in frustration. “At the rate we’re going we’re gonna need a vacation from the vacation. ‘Lines of existence.’ ‘Spinners.’ ‘Chaos and Evil versus reason and civilization.’ Gimme a break. I’m just a successful businessman. My idea of a major crusade is buying season tickets to the Dodgers.”
“I am sorry, Frank. You have committed yourself.”
“To getting to Vegas,” he muttered.
Wendy rose, tugging at the waistband of her jeans. “What would’ve happened if that old man at the station had figured out you were in here with us?”
“He would have raised a great alarm. Others would have responded. Minions of Evil, far more dangerous than he, infinitely more vicious than the rat-things that assailed us. I think they attacked because they saw in you easy prey, not because of me. At least, I am hoping that is why they attacked.
“As to my fate if I had been discovered, I have no doubt I would have been slain on the spot. Then Chaos would have rejoiced. The Cosmos would have grown a little darker, the stars a touch more ominous at night.”
“What about us?” Alicia swallowed hard. “What would have happened to us?”
“I can imagine for you. Are you sure you want me to?”
Alicia turned away from those bottomless orbs. “No, never mind. I guess that’s not necessary.”
“I know what is necessary.” Frank was grim. “Next stop, whether it’s Baker or Needles or wherever, you’re getting out. I’m sorry if you’ve got a problem, but it’s none of our business.”
“Of course it is your business. Your line of existence is as much in danger as my own or anyone else’s. As I said, you are already committed.”
He frowned uneasily. “I heard what you said. What’s that mean, we’re ‘already committed’?”
“By helping me you have entwined yourselves with my line. We are bound together now, by circumstance if not choice. If I were to leave you now, the servants of Evil would still seek you out. You are involved, Frank. You are all involved. I did not plan it this way. Remember, it was you who stopped to assist me.”
“Just to give you a ride, fer chrissake.”
