People telling him that he must be over his insomnia, had to be, because he looked so rested and healthy. That he looked younger.
Hell, he thought, I am younger.
The moon had set again, and Ralph realized with a start that the sun would soon be coming up on Friday morning. It was high time they got back to the central issue of this discussion.
[“Let’s cut to the chase here, fellows. Why have you gone to all this trouble? What is it we’re supposed to stop?”] And then, before either of them could reply, he was struck by a flash of insight too strong and bright to be questioned or denied.
[“It’s Susan Day, isn’t it? He means to kill Susan Day. To assassinate her.”] Clotho: [Yes, but-I Lachesis: [-but that isn’t what matters-”
Ralph: [“Come on, you guys-don’t you think the time has come to lay the rest of your cards on the table?”] Lachesis: [Yes, Ralph, That time has come.] There had been little or no touching among them since they had formed the circle and risen through the intervening hospital floors to the roof, but now Lachesis put a gentle, feather-light arm around Ralph’s shoulders and Clotho took Lois by the arm, as a gentleman of a bygone age might have led a lady onto a dance-floor.
Scent of apples, taste of honey, texture of wool… but this time Ralph’s delight in that mingled sensory input could not mask the deep disquiet he felt as Lachesis turned him to the left and then walked with him toward the edge of the flat hospital roof.
Like many larger and more important cities, Derry seemed to have been built in the most geographically unsuitable place the original settlers could find. The downtown area existed on the steep sides of a valley; the Kenduskeag River flowed sluggishly through the overgrown tangle of the Barrens at this valley’s lowest level. From their vantage point atop the hospital, Derry looked like a town whose heart had been pierced by a narrow green dagger… except in the darkness, the dagger was black.
One side of the valley was Old Cape, site of a seedy postwar housing development and a glossy, flossy new mall. The other side contained most of what people meant when they talked about “downtown.”
Derry’s downtown centered around Up-Mile Hill.
Witcham Street took the most direct course up this hill, rising steeply before branching off into the tangle of streets (Harris Avenue was one of them) that made up the west side. Main Street diverged from Witcham halfway up the hill and headed southwest along the valley’s shallower side. This area of town was known both as Main Street Hill and as Bassey Park. And, near the very top of Main Street’s rise Lois, almost moaning: [“Dear God, what is it?”] Ralph tried to say something comforting and produced nothing but a feeble croak. Near the top of Main Street Hill, a huge black umbrella-shape floated above the ground, blotting out stars which had begun to pale toward morning. Ralph tried to tell himself at first that it was only smoke, that one of the warehouses out that way had caught on fire… perhaps even the abandoned railroad depot at the end of Neibolt Street. But the warehouses were farther south, the old depot was farther west, and if that evil-looking toadstool had really been smoke, the prevailing wind would be driving it across the sky in plumes and banners. That wasn’t happening. Instead of dissipating, the silent blotch in the sky simply hung there, darker than the darkness.
And no one sees it, Ralph thought. No one but me and Lois… and the little bald doctors. The goddam little bald doctors.
He squinted to make out the shape within the giant deathbag, although he didn’t really need to; he had lived in Derry most of his life, and could almost have navigated its streets with his eyes closed (as long as he did not have to do so behind the wheel of his car, that was). Nevertheless, he could make out the building inside the deathbag, especially now that daylight was beginning to seep over the horizon. The flat circular roof which sat atop the curving glassand-brick facade was a dead giveaway. This throwback to the 1950s, designed very much tongue-in-cheek by the famous architect (and one-time Derry resident) Benjamin Hanscom, was the new Derry Civic Center, a replacement for the one destroyed in the flood of ’85.
Clotho turned Ralph to look at him.
[You see, Ralph, you were right-he does mean to assassinate Susan Day… but not just Susan Day.] He paused, glanced at Lois, then turned his grave face back to Ralph.
[That cloud-what you two quite correctly call a deathbag-means that in a sense he has already done what Atropos has set him on to do.
There will be more than two thousand people there tonight… and Ed Deepneau means to kill them all. If the course of events is not changed, he will kill them all.] Lachesis stepped forward to join his colleague.
[you, Ralph and Lois, are the only ones who can stop that from happening.] In his mind’s eye Ralph saw the poster of Susan Day which had been propped in the empty storefront between the Rite Aid Pharmacy and Day Break, Sun Down. He remembered the words written in the dust on the outside of the window: KILL THIS CUNT. And something like that might well happen in Derry, that was the thing. Derry was not precisely like other places. It seemed to Ralph that the city’s atmosphere had improved a great deal since the big flood eight years before, but it was still not precisely like other places. There was a mean streak in Derry, and when its residents got wrought up, they had been known to do some exceedingly ugly things.
He wiped at his lips and was momentarily distracted by the silky, distant feel of his hand on his mouth. He kept being reminded in different ways that his state of being had changed radically.
Lois, horrified: [“How are we supposed to do it? If we can’t go near Atropos or Ed, how are we supposed to stop it from happening?”
Ralph realized he could see her face quite clearly now; the day was brightening with the speed of stop-motion photography in an old Disney nature film.
[“We’ll phone in a bomb-threat, Lois. That should work.”] Clotho looked dismayed at this; Lachesis actually smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand before glancing nervously at the brightening sky.
When he looked back at Ralph, his small face was full of something that might have been carefully muzzled panic.
[That won’t work, Ralph. Now listen to me, both of you, and listen carefully: whatever you do in the next fourteen hours or so, you must not underestimate the power of the forces Atropos unleashed when he first discovered Ed and then slashed his life-cord.] Ralph: [“Why won’t it work?”] Lachesis, sounding both angry and frightened: [We can’t just go on and on answering your questions, Ralph-from here on -you’re going to have to take things on trust. You know how fast time passes on this level. if we stay up here much longer, your chance to stop what is going to happen tonight at the Civic Center will be lost.
You and’ Lois initst step down again. You must!] Clotho held up a hand to his colleague, then turned back to Ralph and Lois. is 10 I’m sure that with a [I’ll answer the one last quest’ n, although little thought you could answer it yourself There have already been twenty-three bomb-threats regarding Susan Day’s speech tonight.
The police have explosives-sniffing dogs at the Civic Center, for the last forty-eight hours they have been X-raying all packages and deliveries which have come into the building, and they have been conducting spot searches, as well. They expected bomb-threats, and they take them seriously, but their assumption in this case is that they are being made by pro-life advocates who are tryiing to keep His. Day from speaking.] Lois, dully: [“Oh God-the little boy who cried wolf Clotho: [Correct, Lois.] Ralph: [“Has he planted a bomb? He has, hasn’t he?”] Bright light washed across the roof, stretching the shadows of the twirling heat-ventilators like taffy. Clotho and Lachesis looked at these shadows and then to the east, where the sun’s top arc had broken over the horizon, with identical expressions of dismay, Lachesis: [We don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. You must stop the speech from happening, and there is only one way to do that: you must convince the women in charge to cancel Susan Day’s appearance.