Summer of Love, a Time Travel (28 page)

That’s
when they identified
Hot
Dim Spots. When they discovered that the data
was disappearing. And reality? Did that mean reality was disappearing, too?

The
Chief Archivist declared a Crisis. She declared that some Event had torn a hole
in spacetime, allowing the Other Now to invade.

But
what? What was the Event?

Strange
coincidences began to occur. Telelinkers who’d been jacked in during the Crash
fell suddenly ill or suffered freak accidents. The linker who’d used Chi’s
skipcousin’s workstation plunged in front of an EM-Trans train two days later and
was killed instantly. A hundred witnesses saw a mysterious ripple at her side.
Tunnel cameras recorded a shadow, standing suddenly on the track, before the
linker was sucked to her death.

“Demons?”
Ruby says. She swings the Mercedes west onto Gravenstein Highway, heading for
Sebastopol. “Devolved Entities Manifested from the Other Now? You’re telling us
another reality is trying to invade this one?”

“Yes.
A terrible reality,” Chi says. “A Hell. Starbright, in front of the Psychedelic
Shop, you said, ‘It’s the girl with my face.’ Have you seen the demon before?”

“Yes,”
she whispers. “On Twin Peaks, the morning I arrived in San Francisco. I almost
fell down a cliff.”

“And
I
nearly fell down my back stairs the night I saw the intruder in my
backyard,” Ruby says.

Chi
nods bleakly. “Then my skipfather’s theory is correct. Demons can invade
whenever a Prime Probability could collapse out of this timeline.”

“Tell
it to me straight without your weird words, man from Mars,” Ruby says. “What does
that
mean?
”

“When
there’s a chance something will happen that could change all of reality as we
know it, the Other Now can invade our timeline.” Chi rubs his eyes. “I can’t
say when that will be.”

“But
we’ve got nothing to do with the Other Now,” Ruby protests. Fear needles up her
spine. “We’ve got nothing to do with your telespace or the Archives or your
medcenters.”

“But
all those things are in your future,” Chi says with grim satisfaction. “Demons
can especially invade a Hot Dim Spot. And that’s what the Summer of Love is: a
Hot Dim Spot.”

“But
what do the demons want with
us?
” Starbright says.

Chi
says, “They want to destroy you.”

*  
*   *

Chi
says a lot of things before Leo Gorgon wakes and Ruby takes the turnoff to
Morning Star Ranch. His tone is bitter, contemptuous.

“You
people,” Chi says. “Live for today. Don’t give a damn about tomorrow. So many
simple things you people take for granted will be gone.”

Even
if Chiron Cat’s Eye in Draco is a pathological liar, Ruby thinks, sweet Isis,
even if he is, there is some kind of truth in his monstrous lies. She is
stunned to her core.

As
though awakened by the quiet, Gorgon stretches and belches. “Hey.” He reaches
over and kneads her neck. “What’s happenin’, baby?”

Ruby
pulls onto the gravel drive. “We’re here.”

Grandmother Says:
K’an (The Abyss)

The
Image:
A river flows through a deep ravine. The river does not
shrink from passing through places of danger, through canyons or over
waterfalls.

The
Oracle:
Confronting danger brings success, provided one views
the situation with clarity and sincerity.

In
the time of danger and difficulty, one must not tarry, but proceed forward with
awareness and courage. Danger must be analyzed objectively, so that one does
not become confused or act foolishly. Caution: the swimmer who attempts to
rescue the drowning person may also drown.

Hexagram 29, The
I
Ching
or Book of Changes

Ruby
eases the Mercedes up to the barricade that says, “Park Here,” and slowly
drives down the dusty gravel lot. She knows about other country communes: Drop
City in Colorado, Strawberry Fields in L.A., the Illustrated Farm in Mendocino,
Gorda in Big Sur. Morning Star Ranch is the closest country commune to the
Haight-Ashbury. The Diggers have posted signs in Ruby’s shop, giving directions
and a map.

Everyone
knows how to get to Morning Star Ranch. Everyone knows anyone can go and stay
there. It’s free.

Night
closes over the countryside. A couple of street lamps smudge the parking lot
with light. Moths whirl and dart in the dimness.

A
squat black woman in a stained pantsuit staggers up to the Mercedes and peers
in at Ruby. “Hey sister, hey sister.” Her breath reeks of fortified wine. “Got
any spare change for Bad Annie, sister?”

“Here
you go, sister,” Ruby says, handing her a quarter. “You take care of yourself,
Bad Annie.”

People
swarm around the Mercedes: a suburban runaway with a starving face, a bearded
man in free-box clothing, a fellow with dirty blond bangs hanging over his
eyes, two black men in tattered suit coats. They plead, palms held out. “Spare
change? Got any spare change?”

“No,”
Ruby says, waving them away. “No!”

“Beat
it,” Gorgon says.

Bad
Annie guffaws and lets loose a stream of obscenities. The starving runaway
turns and vomits spittle on the gravel. The free-box man wanders away. The
blond bangs hacks with a racking cough. The two black men weave across the lot
to a bumper-stickered van pulling up.

Ruby
parks in the shadows on the far side. In the city, darkness hides thieves.
Here, out on the land, darkness may be her friend.

They
all pile out of the car. Starbright slings the canvas bag with their bedding
over her shoulder. She hands the picnic basket to Chi. Ruby locks the Mercedes.
This is the second time tonight she’s turned a key with a sense of dread.

The
four of them creep across the lot.

“I’m
goin’ up to the big house,” Gorgon says and sprints away. “See if I can find
Rainbow.”

Isn’t
that just like Gorgon, Ruby thinks. Abandoning her. She seizes Starbright with
her left hand, Chi with her right. The kid and the young dude cling to her as
if she knows what the hell she’s doing. They climb a steep ridge and down to a
small house. Pitched tents, lean-tos, and teepees surround the house. Pinwheels
whirl in the breeze. Homemade flags flap along with laundry on clothes lines. Odd
constructions of wood and feathers adorn roofs and lopsided gables. Sandalwood
incense makes Ruby sneeze, in spite of the chilly country air.

They
find a square of paved stones. People lounge about on the square, some seated
in lotus positions. Ruby finds a sheltered spot on the edge where she can get
her bearings.

A bushy-haired
swain approaches them. “Hi, I’m Marcus Aurelius. I’m from the Bronx, my ma
kicked me out an’ I got adopted by some junkies on the Lower East Side. I shot
shit when I was twelve. I love to boost, don’t you? I went to juvie for a while
an’ fifty hotel rooms later I’m in Frisco strung out on horse, playin’ beatnik.
Then I dropped LSD, it’s like an atom bomb goin’ off in your head, innit?
Ka-BOOM. I’m droppin’ acid every day till I become God, aren’t you? Hi, I’m
Marcus Aurelius.”

“Are
you hungry?” says a suntanned woman with a long, gray braid. A silver ring
pierces her left nostril. “I’m afraid dinner’s over for tonight. But if you go
up to the big house, you might find some leftovers.”

“We
brought our own food,” Ruby says.

The braided
woman nods, vastly relieved. “We’ve only got twenty folks workin’ the gardens.
But on weekends? We feed, like, two hundred people.”

A
barefoot girl in a ragged shift sidles up to Starbright. “Watch out, chick.”
She speaks through the corner of her mouth, as if her face is half-paralyzed.
Her jaw looks askew. “Two bikers beat me up and banged me the first night I got
here.”

“Didn’t
anyone help you?” Chi asks.

“Oh,
sure,” the barefoot girl says. “Some people took me to the hospital, and the
doctor gave me a shot.”

“Didn’t
anyone call the police?” Starbright exclaims.

People
turn at the sound of “police.” Their faces twist with anger and fear, hatred
and paranoia.

“Shit,
no!” the barefoot girl says.

“We
would never go to the pigs,” says the bushy-haired swain. “We would never, we
would never, we would never ever go.”

“We
can’t go to the police,” the braided woman say sadly. “They would bust us.”

Bang
bang bang!

Gunshots
shatter the night.

No
one pays any attention.

Starbright
squeezes her hand so tightly, Ruby has to shake loose of her grip and take her
hand again.

“Let’s
go see if they’ve got any fresh vegetables left over,” she says.

They
climb the next ridge to the big house and head for the kitchen. They step inside
and a stench of wood rot and dog waste assaults Ruby. Enough dirty dishes for
an army lie stacked everywhere. In the half-light, things crawl through the
kitchen sink.

Chi
looks so unhappy, Ruby wonders if he’ll yank out one of his plastic wraps and plaster
it over his face. She wishes he’d give her one, too.

They
venture into a spacious dining room. A patriarch presides at a huge dining
table as they walk in. His dark eyes glisten over a beak of a nose. His bushy
black beard is threaded with gray.

Ruby
has never seen the patriarch before, but another dude standing before the table
she knows only too well. A biker troublemaker with voodoo eyes who calls
himself Crypt, he’s flanked by half a dozen other bikers, all of them sweaty
and bleary-eyed, in leathers and colors, dangling whiskey bottles in their
fingers. Crypt sways on his feet, holding himself steady by a grip on the
table’s edge.

Four
men in hip regalia stand on the other side of the table. “These SOBs drink and
make trouble for everybody,” says a man in beads. His eyes are bloodshot, he
reeks of pot, and he sways on
his
feet, too. “Their heads are going nowhere,
man. We want them off the ranch.”

“Lew,”
Crypt says, restraining one of his comrades who’s ready to take a swing at Mr.
Beads. “Listen to this shit, man. We’re the people, man. You always said you
would never kick the people out, Lew. Now ain’t that true?”

The
patriarch rubs his brow and grimaces. He looks as if he’s about to weep.
“That’s true, Crypt. I can’t turn the people away,” he says to Mr. Beads. “I
just can’t.”

“They’re
the reason we’ve been served with a cease-and-desist order, Lew,” says Mr.
Beads.

“Like
the heat is all our fault,” Crypt says. “The pigs is just after honky runaways,
man.”

“We’re
tryin’ to create a New Community here!” Mr. Beads shouts. “You’re all screwed
up. Go back to Fresno.”

“Go
back to New Jersey,” Crypt says and guffaws.

“No,
no, no,” the patriarch says. “This isn’t about one man’s way or another man’s
way. I can’t say one or another is wrong. There are no judges here. You’re all
my guests. You’re all my brothers. I can’t turn anyone away from Morning Star
Ranch.”

The
patriarch rises from his chair, shaking his head. At the door, he turns to
Ruby. “Please excuse me, milady. I’m tired.”

“Throw
them both out,” Ruby advises him.

His
dark eyes are troubled. “I’m just a musician. I bought the ranch so I could
write my music in peace.”

The
patriarch wanders away to some private room.

“This
isn’t over, brother,” spits Mr. Beads.

Crypt
grins. “No, it ain’t. One night, I’m gonna off you, brother.” He punches his
fist in his palm in front of Mr. Beads’ face. He and his comrades swig from their
bottles and stagger from the room.

“Let’s
get out of here.” Ruby leads Starbright and Chi out of the big house. “I don’t
know who these losers are. They weren’t here when I came up in May. The people
who came to live on the land must be out back, somewhere.”

They
hike in near darkness lit only by an occasional lamp. The waning moon is no
help. A pond here, a pine tree there, and Ruby recognizes the path winding through
the woods into the back acres where her sculptor friend pitched his tent for
solitude.