Cold Fire

Jim moved to her side. He put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently, as if to say "good work.”

She decided not to ask for any more clarification on the issue of its ability to see the future, for fear they would be off on a tangent and never get back on track before the creature next announced that it was depart. She returned to the prepared questions. "Why do you want these particular people saved?" "To help mankind" it said sonorously. There might have been a note of pomposity in it, too, but that was hard to tell because the voice was so evenly modulated, almost machinelike.

"But when so many people are dying every day-and most of them an innocents-why have you singled out these particular people to be rescued?" "They are special people. " "In what way are they special?" "If allowed to live each of them will make a major contribution to the betterment of mankind." Jim said, "I'll be damned.”

Holly had not been expecting that answer. It had the virtue of being fresh. But she was not sure she believed it. For one thing, she was bothered that The Friend's voice was increasingly familiar to her.

She was sure she had heard it before, and in a context that undermined its credibility now, in spite of its deep and authoritative tone. "Are you saying you not only see the future as it will be but as it might have been?" "Yes" "Aren't we back to your being God now?" "No. I do not see as clearly as God. But I see" In his boyish best humor again, Jim smiled at the kaleidoscopic patterns of light, obviously excited and pleased by all that he was hearing.

Holly turned away from the wall, crossed the room, squatted beside her suitcase, and opened it.

Jim loomed over her. "What're you doing?" "Looking for this," she said, producing the notebook in which she had chronicled the discoveries she'd made while researching him. She got up, opened the notebook, and paged to the list of people whose lives he had saved prior to Flight 246. Addressing the entity throbbing through the limestone, she said, "May fifteenth. Atlanta, Georgia. Sam Newsome and his five-year-old daughter Emily. What are they going to contribute to humanity that makes them more important than all the other people who died that day?" No answer was forthcoming.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Emily will become a great scientist and discover a cure for a major disease" Definitely a note of pomposity this time.

"What disease?" "Why do you not believe me Miss Thorne?" The Friend spoke as formally as an English butler on duty, yet in that response, Holly felt she heard the subtle pouting tone of a child under the dignified, reserved sur She said, "Tell me what disease, and maybe I'll believe you.”

"Cancer" "Which cancer? There are all types of cancer.”

"All cancers" She referred to her notebook again. "June seventh.

Corona, California Louis Andretti.”

"He will father a child who will grow up to become a great diplomat. " Better than dying of multiple rattlesnake bites, she thought.

She said, "June twenty-first. New York City. Thaddeus" "He will become a great artist whose work will give millions of people hope.”

"He seemed like a nice kid," Jim said happily, buying into the whole thing. "I liked him.”

Ignoring him, Holly said, "June thirtieth. San Francisco-" "Rachael Steinberg will give birth to a child who will become a great h spiritual leader" That voice was bugging her. She knew she had heard it before. But where? "July fifth-" "Miami; Florida. Carmen Diaz She will give birth to a child who will become president of the United States" Holly fanned herself with the notebook and said, "Why not president of the world?" "July fourteenth. Houston, Texas. Amanda Cutter She will give birth to a child who will &be a great peacemaker" "Why not the Second Coming?" Holly asked.

Jim had moved away from her. He was leaning against the wall between two windows, the display of light quietly exploding around him. "What's the matter with you?" he asked.

"It's all too much," she said.

"What is?" "Okay, it says it wants you to save special people.”

"To help mankind" "Sure, sure," Holly said to the wall.

To Jim she said, "But these people are all just too special, don't you think? Maybe it's me, but it all seems overblown, it's gotten trite again.

Nobody's growing up to be just a damned good doctor, or a businessman who creates a new industry and maybe ten thousand jobs, or an honest and courageous cop, or a terrific nurse. No, they're great diplomats, great scientists, great politicians, great peacemakers.

Great, great, great!" "Is this adversarial journalism?" "Damn right.”