A Swiftly Tilting Planet Read Online Free PDF

small nocturnal animal made its way through the night.
    Charles Wallace said, “Good idea. I’ll go.”
    “I’ll go with you.”
    “No. Stay here.”
    “But—”
    “You know Dr. Louise was afraid you were going to get pneumonia last week when you had that bad chest cold. You mustn’t risk getting cold again, for the baby’s sake.”
    “All right, Charles, but, oh—”
    “Meg,” he said gently. “Something’s blocking me, and I need to get unblocked. I have to be alone. But I’ll need you to kythe with me.”
    She looked troubled. “I’m out of practice—” Kything was being able to be with someone else, no matter how far away they might be, was talking in a language that was deeper than words. Charles Wallace was born with this gift; slowly she became able to read the thoughts he sent her, to know what he wanted her to know. Kything went far beyond ordinary ESP, and while it came to Charles Wallace as naturally as breathing, for Meg it tookintense concentration. Charles Wallace and Calvin were the only two people with whom she was able to give and receive this language that went far beyond words.
    Charles Wallace assured her. “It’s like swimming, or riding a bike. Once you learn, you never forget.”
    “I know—but I want to go with you.” She tried to hold back the thought,—To protect you.
    “Meg.” His voice was urgent. “I’m going to need you, but I’m going to need you
here
, to kythe with me, all the way.”
    “All the way where?”
    His face was white and strained. “I don’t know yet. I have a feeling it will be a long way, and yet what has to be done has to be done quickly.”
    “Why you?”
    “It may not be me. We’re not certain. But it has to be somebody.”
    —If it’s not somebody, Meg thought,—then the world, at least the world as we know it, is likely to come to an end.
    She reached out and gave her little brother a hug and a kiss. “Peace go with you.”
    She turned out the light and lay down to wait until she heard him in her mind. The kitten stretched and yawned and slept, and its very indifference was a comfort. Then the sharp sound of a dog barking made her sit up.
    The barking continued, sharp and demanding, very much like Fortinbras when he was asking for attention. She turned on the light. The barking stopped. Silence. Why had it stopped?
    She got out of bed and hurriedly slipped into a robe and slippers and went downstairs, forgetting the seventh step, which groaned loudly. In the kitchen she saw her parents and Charles Wallace all stroking a large, nondescript dog.
    Mrs. Murry looked with no surprise at Meg. “I think our dog has found us.”
    Mr. Murry pulled gently at the dog’s upright ear; the other drooped. “She’s a ‘yaller dog’ in looks, but she appears to be gentle and intelligent.”
    “No collar or anything,” Charles Wallace said. “She’s hungry, but not overly thin.”
    “Will you fix her some food, Meg?” Mrs. Murry asked. “There’s still some in the pantry left over from Fortinbras.”
    As Meg stirred up a bowl of food she thought,—We’re all acting as though this dog is going to be with us for a long time.
    It wasn’t the coming of the dog that was strange, or their casual acceptance of it. Fortinbras had come to them in the same way, simply appearing at the door, an overgrown puppy. It was the very ordinariness of it which made tears prickle briefly against her lashes.
    “What are we going to call her?” Mrs. Murry asked.
    Charles Wallace spoke calmly. “Her name is Ananda.”
    Meg looked at him, but he only smiled slightly. She put the food down and the dog ate hungrily, but tidily.
    “Ananda,” Mrs. Murry said thoughtfully. “That rings some kind of bell.”
    “It’s Sanskrit,” Charles Wallace said.
    Meg asked, “Does it mean anything?”
    “That joy in existence without which the universe will fall apart and collapse.”
    “That’s a mighty big name for one dog to carry,” Mrs. Murry