SARA DRANK CHAMPAGNE, trying to wash away her ever-growing despondency. She could not remember whether this was her second or third bottle, but it wasn't enough. The nagging, insistent voice within her would not be silenced, no matter how drunk she got. John's not coming back, it said. You're not as desirable as you thought. Even her favorite dress—John's favorite, too— did not give her the assurance she craved. That assurance had dwindled with each anxious moment, until little was left. She felt emotionally drained and helpless. Beauty had been her greatest power and, put to the test, it had failed her.
Pandit sat by attentively, but had long ago ceased to tell her "everything would be fine." She could see now he had never been sincere about that. Yet, as she realized his words were false, she perceived his deeper sincerity. He had not abandoned her. In his gaze she saw the de-votion she had always hoped to see in John's. To him, she was desirable. It was a comfort.
James raced to the table, then, in a voice that seemed unnaturally calm, said, "I suggest we retire to the shelter of the guest quarters. A storm is approaching."
Sara and Pandit walked from beneath the pavilion to gaze at the sky. To the south, it glowed ominously in swirling incandescent colors. The colors advanced to-ward them as they watched. Without further urging, they hurried to Green's former quarters. There, they discov-ered that the hole Joe had kicked through the plaster was sealed by a featureless silvery panel.
"A door!" said James. "Maybe there's refuge after all." He approached and looked for a means to gain entrance.
"Perhaps," said Pandit, "it will respond to your com-mands."
"Open," said James. The doorway remained sealed. "Let us in! Bloody Hell, open up!" James tried other commands with rising urgency and eventually resorted to pounding the metal door with his fists, but it did not budge. "It was a false hope," he said at last.
The fiery clouds were nearly overhead, and the land-scape outside assumed the color of blood. Sara ran into the bathroom and cowered in the corner, as far from the light as she could be.
"I can't stand it," she sobbed.
Pandit followed after her. He uttered the only true words of comfort he could. "I am here, Sara." As he spoke them, he realized it was the first time he had ever called her by that name. Even as Pandit spoke, a horrendous crash resounded through the chamber like millions of exploding bombs. It was more than a sound—it was a physical presence. Even within the stone shelter, it hit them like a fist and smashed them against the wall. The noise became a pain that vibrated their very bones for agonizing seconds be-fore it died away. Then there was silence, except for the ringing in their ears. Pandit ventured from the bathroom to find James sprawled insensate against the wall. "Sara, come quickly," he called, "James is hurt."
Sara ran out and gasped at the sight of James's crum-pled body. "Is he dead?" she asked. Pandit saw James's chest move. "He is breathing," he stated. "We should move him off the floor. Sara and Pandit carefully lifted James to the bed and stretched him out. Sara went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth to place on James's brow. When she did, she saw it was starting to swell. She got a second washcloth and gently washed the blood from his upper lip and the corners of his mouth. Caring for another calmed her own terror and distracted her from the nightmarish scene out-side the colonnade. The force of the concussion had stripped the trees of their leaves. The few that still stood were silhouetted against a sea and sky that appeared merged into a restless inferno. Meteors slashed downward. Usually they burned out in a burst of brilliant light, but occasionally they crashed into the sea, sending up huge plumes of spray. In the unnatural light, the plumes looked like spurting wounds. It became searingly hot.
"Pandit," said Sara, "what will we do?"
"We will live," he replied, "for as long as we can."
CON, RICK, AND Joe watched the sky from inside the plane. The concussion had passed through the valley, briefly lifting the plane as it went. The aircraft now rested ten yards closer to the river, but still upright. The foot-hills that had partially sheltered them from the full force of the concussion also screened the sky to the south. An eerie glow presaged a change. Then, like burning oil spreading over the surface of a pond, fire spilled over the heavens. It rapidly advanced until it reached to both ho-rizons. The sky painted the landscape with nightmare col-ors. Con was reminded of Hieronymus Bosch's ghastly paintings of Hell. Only the demons are missing, she thought. The Damned, she feared, might prove to be themselves.
"What happened?" asked Joe at last.
"Vaporized meteor and rock are falling back into the atmosphere and igniting," said Rick.
"I see shooting stars," said Con, with a combination of fascination and terror.
"I feel like I'm in an oven set on broil," said Joe.
The heat became oppressive. Con sat limp in her seat, her face flushed and her clothes wet with perspiration. "Maybe we should go to the river," she said.
"Not yet," said Rick.
As if to affirm Rick's reply, a grinding, rumbling sound filled the air. The mountains to the south moved as the Earth rippled. The rapid advance of the disturbance was plainly marked by the destruction caused by its passing. Whole mountainsides gave way to crash into the valleys below. The noise grew louder and louder, until suddenly the foothill to the south rose up. It no longer behaved like earth and stone, but moved like a swell on the ocean. Seconds later, the ground beneath the plane rose also in the first and greatest of a series of undulations. The for-merly solid ground assumed a liquid nature, and the plane bobbed upon it like a cork.
Con heard herself screaming as a childhood nightmare came true and the Earth attempted to swallow her. The violent movement of the plane and the churning dirt and vegetation outside made it impossible to know if they were, indeed, being buried alive. Con fell to the sloping floor of the plane, then slid down upon the jumbled sup-plies in the rear. Rick tumbled beside her. She grasped him so tightly it would leave marks, pressed her face into his chest, and squeezed her eyes shut. She clung to him while the plane bucked and rolled. Eventually, the move-ment diminished. The Earth grew calm. Con opened her eyes.
The sky was still visible through the transparent part of the plane. Joe clung to his seat, a shocked expression frozen on his face.
"Is everyone all right?" asked Rick.
"I think so," said Joe.
"Just shaken up," said Con.
"How about the plane?" asked Rick.
Joe scrutinized the control panel. He noted, for the first time, that the flashing red symbols had disappeared. All the indicator lights were still lit, however. They told him that the aircraft's systems still functioned. "She looks okay from the inside," he said. "I'd better take a look outside." Joe pressed a button, and an opening appeared in the rear of the plane. Scorching, dry, dusty air poured in. All three of them clambered out into the inferno to see what the earthquake had done. Their first concern was the plane. It sloped, frozen in the process of sinking into the Earth tail first. The two rear legs of the landing tripod were half-buried and only the two tips of the aircraft's V-shaped tail protruded from the ground. Joe started dig-ging around the tail with his hands. He discovered that the ground, which had been so recently fluid, was solid again. In fact, it was hard.
"We're going to need tools to dig this out," said Joe. He disappeared into the plane and began rummaging about the supplies. While Joe searched the plane, Rick and Con surveyed the landscape about them. Rick had studied the effects of earthquakes, but no one had ever experienced one of this magnitude. There were numerous places where the Earth had behaved like a liquid and flowed. Some hillsides looked like brown glaciers. The river's course had changed. It flowed forty yards from the plane now. It was wider and brown with mud. The trees along its former bank slanted at crazy angles or had toppled over. One tree trunk appeared to have dropped straight into the ground.