The weasel face relaxed only fractionally. "What happened, kid? You looked like you were seeing a ghost."
"I saw a train wreck," Javier said. The headache and nausea were beginning to recede now. A violent shiver swept through his body, scooping up tension and leaving weakness in its wake. "It's okay, though," he added as Wonky's eyes widened, "it happens to me a lot. The trance only lasts a few seconds."
"Gardam! You one of them whatchyasay—fortunetellers? What'd you see?"
Javier's hands ached, and he suddenly realized he was still squeezing the broom handle. "I'm not a fortune-teller. I just see these things sometimes. Look, I'm not supposed to talk about it."
"What'd you see?" Wonky persisted.
Javier sighed, but he lacked the emotional energy to argue. Haltingly, he described the vision in as much detail as he could stand. "Now please don't tell anyone else about me, okay?" he said when he had finished. "Mr. Schultz told me not to—"
He was cut off by a sudden grip on his arm. "Hey! The fourteen-hundred cars are always on the Paterson train—that's the one Mr. Schultz goes home in!" Wonky flicked a glance at the wall clock. "Gardam, he's gone already. C'mon, we got to stop him!"
"Wait a sec," Javier protested, but it was too late. Wonky's wiry body was a lot stronger than it looked, and before Javier could break loose he found himself outside in the hot, muggy air.
"Hold it," he tried again. "Mr. Schultz told me not to tell him about any visions I saw."
"You just gonna let him die?" Wonky snorted. He took off through the late- afternoon crowd of pedestrians, moving like a combination jackrabbit and bulldozer. Javier ran after him, and managed to catch up again two blocks later.
"Wait, Wonky, hold on," he said, trying not to pant. "Look, it may not come true. Probably won't, actually. Hey, remember it thundered in the vision? Look, no thunder!"
It was no use. Wonky had gotten it into his head that his boss/friend was in danger and no one was going to stop him from delivering a warning. Groaning inwardly, Javier followed, wondering what he was going to do.
They reached the tube station minutes later and Wonky, who obviously was familiar with the layout, headed off to the left. Shivering as sweaty skin met the air-conditioning, Javier plunged through the crowd after him. A low rumble made him glance back at the entrance before he'd gone very far. He shivered again, this time not from the cool air, and hurried on. Outside, it was starting to rain.
Hugo Schultz was easy to spot, his huge girth making him stand out among the other commuters. Javier hesitated, but Wonky showed no signs of uncertainty. He caught up to Schultz just as the latter was about to step into a waiting train. Pulling him out of line—no mean feat—Wonky launched into an animated monologue. From his position Javier couldn't hear what was being said, but Schultz's face quickly clouded over with anger. Twice he tried to pull from Wonky's grip, but the little man hung on grimly, letting go only when the train began to move down the tunnel. As it passed, Javier noted the number on one of its cars: 1404.
He looked back to see Schultz bearing down on him, face livid with rage, with a relieved but puzzled-looking Wonky in his wake. "Javier!" the fat man bellowed. "I thought I told you to keep your damned tricks to yourself. Now you've made me miss my train, and you've got Wonky all in a lather—"
"Boss, he saved your life," Wonky said.
"Mr. Schultz, believe me, I tried to tell him—" Javier began.
"Shut up! You're fired. Both of you—got that, Wonky?"
Wonky's jaw dropped, and he started to protest.
The words never came. From down the tunnel came a hideous crash.
Someone in the crowd screamed and someone else began shouting something, but Javier didn't really hear them. Turning, he started off through the crowd, hoping desperately to reach a wall or doorway where he'd be safe. But it was too late; and even as he took his first few steps his body went stiff. Through the vision of an exploding starship that danced before his eyes, he dimly felt the jostling of the crowd pushing him off balance. An instant later, the universe went black.
—
He woke up—or, more properly, returned to a state of relative consciousness—four or five times in the next few hours, as nearly as he could later piece events together. It was a foggy sort of awareness, distinguished from sleep mainly by the throbbing pain in arms, chest, and head. Occasionally he heard voices, indicating there were others in the room with him. Sometimes all he could hear was groaning.
It was the periods between those times that nearly drove him insane.
Only once before in his life had he ever had even two visions come one right after the other; now, they were coming in strings. Two aircars collide violently just short of a rooftop landing pad, obvious victims of a guidance computer malfunction. One slides over the edge and falls two hundred stories....
An explosive decompression aboard an orbiting space colony. Three are killed instantly, seven others suffocate before help can reach them....
Screams in an unknown language are swallowed up by the roar of an erupting volcano. The rain of ash and flowing lava cut through a jungle village, obliterating it completely....
A fleet of unidentifiable starships fights a short but violent battle with a planetary defense force, destroying it to the last ship....
The starship battle was the worst of the visions, its intrinsic horror stretched agonizingly by its sheer persistence. Again and again Javier was pulled back to the scene, forced to watch as the victors, apparently not satisfied with the deaths they had already caused, proceeded with coldblooded efficiency to burn off the world they had defeated. From space the expanding rings of nuclear flame were clearly visible; at ground level they were the height of redwoods and the brightness of the noonday sun. For once, no one screamed in pain. No one had time.
Finally—finally—the hurricane of death subsided. With an effort, Javier swam his way back to consciousness. The first thing he saw when his eyes opened was Wonky's face.
"Where am I?" he whispered, his throat very dry.
"Hospital," Wonky told him. "Ward two. How you feel?"
"Terrible. You've got to help me get out of here."
"You're not well enough," Wonky protested. "You got kinda trampled when you fainted at the station. You should wait till morning, anyway—it's pretty late."
"I don't care. If it starts up again I'll go crazy. Never mind," he added, seeing Wonky's puzzled expression. "My clothes must be here somewhere. Find them, and then hunt up a doctor. I'll sign any release they want. But I have to get out."
For a long minute Wonky stared at him, brows tight with thought. Then he nodded once, curtly, and began to search among the ward's lockers. He found Javier's clothing, and after being assured that Javier could get into them alone, went in search of a doctor. Javier dressed slowly, his body aching with every movement. A radio was playing softly at the nurses' station at the end of the room, and he paused once to listen as a report of interstellar news came on. The doctor Wonky dragged back with him proved stubborn, but in the end was persuaded to produce the necessary papers, and a few minutes later Javier was out on the street. Supported by Wonky, he headed toward his apartment building. They just made it. —
Javier slept for nearly ten hours; a deep sleep, untroubled by visions. When he awoke he lay quietly, staring at the ceiling and thinking about what he'd seen and heard. After a while, he slept again.
By the time he woke up he had made his decision. He showered, ate the last of the packaged food he had in the room, and wrote a long letter. Then he began packing.
Wonky arrived before he had finished. "Hi, kid, how you feeling?" he asked as Javier offered him the room's only chair.