"What the fuck?"
"Shut up, Abernethy. I'm only going to tell you this once. Where was I? Oh yeah...a movie. This force, wielded by one Randolph Jaffe, broke the confines of what most of our species believed to be the only and absolute reality, and opened a door to another state of being: a sea called Quiddity—"
"Is this a resignation letter, Grillo?"
"You wanted the story nobody else would dare print, right?" Grillo said. "The real dirt. This is it. This is the great revelation."
"It's ridiculous."
"Maybe that's the way all earth-shattering news sounds. Have you thought of that? What would you have done if I'd tried to file a report on the Resurrection? Crucified man rolls away the stone. Would you have printed that?"
"That's different," Abernethy said. "That happened."
"So did this. I swear to God. And if you want proof, you're going to get it real soon."
"Proof? From where?"
"Just listen," Grillo said, and picked up his report again. "This revelation about the fragile state of our being took place in the midst of one of the most glamorous gatherings in recent movie and TV history, when about two hundred guests—Hollywood's movers and shakers—assembled at the hill-top house of Buddy Vance, who died here in Palomo Grove earlier in the week. His death, under circumstances both tragic and mysterious, began a series of events which climaxed last night with a number of the guests at his memorial party being snatched out of the world as we know it. There are no details yet as to the complete list of victims; though Vance's widow Rochelle was certainly among them. Nor is there any way of knowing their fate. They may be dead. They may simply exist in another state of being which only the most foolhardy of adventurers would dare enter. To all intents and purposes they have simply vanished off the face of the earth."
He expected Abernethy to interrupt at this juncture, but here was silence from the other end of the line. So profound a silence, indeed, that Grillo said:
"Are you still there, Abernethy?"
"You're nuts, Grillo."
"So put the phone down on me. Can't do it, can you? See, there's a real paradox here. I hate your fucking guts but I think you're just about the only man with the balls to print this. And the world's got to know."
"You are nuts."
"You watch the news through the day. You'll see...there's a lot of famous people missing this morning. Studio executives, movie stars, agents—"
"Where are you?"
"Why?"
"Let me make some calls, then get back to you."
"What for?"
"See if there's any rumors flying. Just give me five minutes. That's all I'm asking. I'm not saying I believe you. I don't. But it's one fuck of a story."
"It's the truth, Abernethy. And I want to warn people. They have to know."
"Like I said, give me five minutes. Are you at the same number?"
"Yeah. But you may not get through. The place is practically deserted."
"I'll get through," Abernethy said, and put down the phone.
Grillo looked across at Tesla.
"I did it," he said.
"I still don't think it's wise, telling people."
"Don't start again," Grillo said. "This is the story I was born to tell, Tesla."
"It's been a secret for so long."
"Yeah, for people like your friend Kissoon."
"He's not my friend."
"Isn't he?"
"For Christ's sake, Grillo, you heard what he did."
"So why do you talk about him with this sneaking envy in your voice, huh?"
She looked at him like he'd just slapped her.
"Call me a liar?" he said.
She shook her head.
"What's the appeal?"
"I don't know. You're the one who just kept watching the Jaff do his stuff. No attempt to stop him. What was the appeal of that?"
"I wouldn't have had a chance against him, you know that."
"You didn't try."
"Don't change the subject. I'm right, aren't I?"
Tesla had crossed to the window. Coney Eye was screened by trees. There was no telling from here whether the damage was spreading.
"Do you think they're alive?" she said. "Howie, and the others?"
"I don't know."
"You got to look into Quiddity, right?"
"I got a glimpse," Grillo said.
"And?"
"It was like one of our telephone calls. Cut off short. All I got to see was a cloud. There was no sign of Quiddity itself."
"And no Iad."
"No Iad. Maybe they don't exist."
"You wish."
"You're sure of your sources?"
"Couldn't be more sure."
"I love it," Grillo remarked somewhat bitterly. "I dig around for days and all I get is a fucking peek. But you—you plug straight in."
"Is this what this is about?" Tesla said. "You getting a story?"
"Yeah. Maybe it is. And telling it. Making people understand what's going on in Happy Valley. But seems to me you don't really want that. You'd be happier if we kept this among the chosen few. You, Kissoon, the fucking Jaff—"
"OK, you want to report the end of the world? You do it, Orson. Listeners across America are just waiting to panic. Meanwhile, I've got problems—"
"You smug bitch."
"I'm smug! I'm smug! Listen to Mister Hotshot Tell Them The Truth Or Die Trying Grillo! Has it occurred to you that if Abernethy publishes what's going on up here we're going to have a major tourist industry in twelve hours? Freeways blocked in both directions? And won't that be nice for whatever's coming out of the throat, huh? Feeding time!"
"Shit."
"Didn't think of that, did you? And while we're talking turkey, you—"
The telephone silenced her in mid-accusation. Grillo picked it up.
"Nathan?"
"Abernethy."
Grillo looked across at Tesla, who was standing with her back to the window glaring at him.
"I'm going to need a lot more than two paragraphs."
"What convinced you?"
"You were right. A lot of people didn't come home from the party."
"Has it made the news this morning?"
"Nope. So you've got an edge. Of course your explanation about where they've gone's crap. Biggest fiction I ever heard. But it's a great front page."
"I'll get back to you with the rest."
"An hour."
"An hour."
He put the phone down.
"All right," he said, looking at Tesla. "So suppose I hold off giving him the full story till noon? What can we do in that time?"
"I don't know," Tesla admitted. "Maybe find the Jaff."
"And what the hell can he do?"
"Not do much. But undo plenty."
Grillo stood up and went through to the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing cold water on his face.
"You think the hole can be closed?" he said, wandering back in, water dripping from his face.
"I told you, I don't know. Maybe. I don't have any other answers, Grillo."
"And what happens to the people inside? The McGuire twins. Katz. The rest."
"They're probably dead already," she sighed. "We can't help them."
"Easily said."
"Well you seemed ready enough to fling yourself in a few hours ago, so maybe you should go in after them. I'll get you a piece of string, to hold on to."
"All right," Grillo said, "I haven't forgotten you saved my life, and I'm grateful."
"Jeez, I've made some errors in my time..."
"Look, I'm sorry. I'm coming at this all wrong. I know I am. I should be planning some plan. Being a hero. But see...I'm not. The only response I've got to all this is the same old Grillo. I can't change. I see something, I want the world to know."
"It will," Tesla said quickly. "It will."
"But you...you've changed."
She nodded. "You got that right," she said. "I was thinking, when you were telling Abernethy he wouldn't have printed the Resurrection story: that's me. I'm resurrected. And you know what freaks me? I'm not freaked. I'm cool. I'm fine. I go walking around in a fucking time loop, and it's like..."