"Out of the question," Sylvia said. "Alan and I are quite capable of handling the situation. We won't be driven from our home by these things." She turned to Ba. "We're safe in here, Ba. You saw that last night. Once we locked the doors and rolled down the shutters, we had no further problems. Tonight will be the same. And the night after that. And the night after that."
"Missus, I am not sure—"
"Neither am I, Ba. We can't be sure of anything anymore. Except perhaps that the situation will steadily deteriorate until we're all mad or dead."
"I vowed to protect you, Missus. Always."
"I know you did, Ba," she said softly.
Sylvia's heart warmed at his unflagging devotion. But that devotion could be a burden as well as a benefit. It was a great comfort to know she was protected, but she also had to allow herself to be protected. And that wasn't always easy.
Pulling away from the snug cocoon of that protection, even temporarily, was difficult—akin perhaps to leaving all the windows open in a storm. And knowing the distress it caused in Ba made the move all the more difficult for her.
She asked Jack, "What will the return of these necklaces do?"
He shrugged. "Only Glaeken knows. Set things right, I hope. Mother Nature's gone nuts. Maybe these things will go toward building something that'll give her some electroshock therapy."
"If that's true, Ba…if acquiring these necklaces will help end this nightmare, perhaps you would be adhering closer to the spirit of your vow by going with this man."
Ba stood silent for a moment, the center of attention. His eyes were tortured.
"Missus…"
"Let's do it this way," Sylvia said, lighting on an idea. "We'll see how tonight goes. If Alan and I need your help to get through, then I'll ask you to stay. But if it turns out we can handle things ourselves, then I think you should go with Jack."
"Very well, Missus. If that is what you wish."
I don't know what I wish, she thought. But I know we can't spend the rest of our lives sealed up in Toad Hall.
"That is what I wish," she said.
"All right!" Jack said, clapping his hands once as he rose to his feet. "I'll be here first thing tomorrow morning—bright and early."
Alan said, "It probably won't be bright and it certainly won't be early."
Sylvia watched Jack go over to Ba and extend his hand.
"I respect where you're coming from, Big Guy, but believe me, this is our only chance to really do something about this—to maybe turn it around and stop it so we can all get back to our normal lives. That's worth risking a couple of days, isn't it?"
Ba shook his hand slowly. "I will go with you tomorrow."
Jack smiled. "Try to control your enthusiasm, okay?"
Then he waved and headed for the front door. When he was gone, Ba turned to her.
"Excuse me, Missus. I have work outside."
"Of course," Sylvia said. But as she watched him go, she caught her breath as that recurring phrase slipped into her mind.
Only three will live to return.
"Something wrong?" Alan said.
They were alone now and his gentle brown eyes were fixed on her.
"Is something right?" she said.
"You looked frightened."
"I was thinking about what that lunatic in Glaeken's apartment told you and wondering if I was sending Ba to his doom. What if he's killed on this trip? It will be my fault."
"I've never believed anyone could tell the future," he said. "And as for fault, that's a no-win game. If Ba goes off and gets killed, it's your fault. If you don't convince him to go and he gets killed around here, it's also your fault. But actually, neither scenario is anybody's fault. It's nothing but a mental trap."
"I guess you're right. I'm treating some nut's rant as if it's really going to happen. I must be as crazy as he is." She leaned over and kissed him. "Thanks, Alan. You're good for me."
He gave her a kiss of his own. "And thank you."
"For what?"
"For saying, 'Alan and I are quite capable of handling the situation.' That meant a lot."
So…he had been stung by Ba's remark.
"Ba didn't mean anything."
"I know that."
"Ba admires you and respects you. He's forever in your debt for the care you gave Nhung Thi before she died. You're on his Good-Guy list."
"I'd hate to be on his Bad Guy list."
"Ba doesn't really have one of those. All the people he considers bad guys seem to disappear. And he'd be crushed if he thought he'd offended you."
"I wasn't offended."
Sylvia stared into his eyes. "Truth, Alan."
"Okay," he said, glancing away. "That crack about not wanting to leave you 'alone' did get to me. I mean, what am I—a houseplant? I know I'm in a wheelchair, but I'm not helpless."
"Of course you're not. And Ba knows that too. It's just that he's been my self-appointed watchman for so many years, he thinks he's the only one who can do the job. If I had the Eighty-second Airborne camping in with me, he'd still consider me unprotected if he wasn't at my side."
"It's funny," Alan said, staring at the wall. "You hear women complaining about being labeled as 'the weaker sex' and not given a chance to prove their competence and equality and maybe even superiority to men in business and industry. They don't see the flip side of the coin. The guys are saddled with the macho ethic. We're supposed to be tough, we're supposed to be able to handle anything, be cool in any situation, never back down, never surrender, never admit we're hurt, and for God's sake, never ever cry. It's not easy to handle even when you're at the top of your form; but when something happens to knock you off your feet, I tell you, Syl, it becomes a crushing burden. And sometimes…sometimes it's just plain murder."
Sylvia didn't know what to say to that. She simply reached over and held his hand. She hoped that said it all.
WWOR-TV
CAMERON: But Dr. Sapir, how exactly did you arrive at these figures?
SAPIR: I simply charted the times of sunrise and sunset and the resultant hours of daylight since Wednesday on a graph. Those figures yielded the curve you see here. I have merely continued that curve.
CAMERON: And that shows…?
SAPIR: All you have to do is follow it. We'll have approximately eleven hours of sunlight today; slightly less than ten hours tomorrow, Monday; about eight hours and forty minutes of daylight on Tuesday, about seven hours on Wednesday, and—you see how steep the curve is becoming—four hours and forty-two minutes of light on Thursday.
CAMERON: And on Friday?
SAPIR: On Friday, nothing.
CAMERON: Nothing?
SAPIR: Correct. If the curve holds true, the sun will set at 3:01 p.m. on Thursday and will not rise again. There will be no sunrise on Friday.
Manhattan
Bill Ryan sat stunned before the TV in Glaeken's study. He'd turned on the show to see if the sight of his old colleague would shock Nick back into the real world. Instead it was Bill who had received the shock.
No sunrise on Friday? It seemed impossible, but Dr. Harvey Sapir was a world-renowned physicist from Columbia University.
"Nick," Bill said, turning to the younger man. "What's going to happen? You've been coming on with all sorts of predictions lately. How's all this going to turn out?"
Nick didn't answer. His vacant gaze remained fixed on one of the curlicues in the wallpaper design.