Eternity's Edge Read Online Free PDF Page A

confusion and piece together the scattered sounds.
    Keeping his eyes closed, he imagined a musical staff floating in the middle of a black void, blank except for the lines and clef mark. In his mind, he stood in front of the sheet with his violin poised to play. As each note popped into his ear, his image played that note. A black spider flew from his strings and formed itself into a musical quarter note in midair. It then landed on the middle of the staff and positioned itself on the proper line.
    With the second sound, another spider flew toward the page, transformed into an eighth note, and stuck to the staff on the second line near the end. Spider after spider glided to the page, and whenever they landed near one another, they shot out black webbing that tied them together until they created a perfectly arranged musical piece.
    Nathan copied his imaginary stance and played the notes he saw on the visionary staff in order. After the first measure, the sounds from the speakers seemed to arrange themselves, as if the cosmos now played the sheet he had created in his mind. He opened his eyes and played along, copying each note he heard.
    Daryl pointed at him and whispered in Kelly's ear. Kelly made a harsh shushing sound, while Clara gazed at the ceiling and Dr. Gordon studied the computer screen.
    Above, the colors had blended together and were stretching out into a recognizable scene. A man and a woman sat in the midst of darkness, as though neither moon nor stars could break the black nightscape. Even their resting place was nothing more than a shapeless black lump.
    After a few seconds, their faces clarified, but they were still too fuzzy to recognize. Nathan poured his heart into his playing until his mother's violin sounded like it sizzled with flaming passion. Every stroke of his bow brought the couple more clearly into focus until each face blazed into Nathan's mind.
    He wanted to scream out, “Mom! Dad!” but he had to keep his concentration steady and hold this vision of the other world on the screen as long as he could.
    While his mother played a violin, his father rose and paced, staying within a short range, as if blocked by invisible walls on each side. With his hand to his chin, he seemed to be deep in thought. Soon, the violin's sweet tones became audible, one of his mother's own pieces, a soothing tune to which she had also composed lyrics, a ballad about a long-lost son who found his way home after many years of toil and torture at the hands of a wicked king in a faraway land.
    His father stopped and raised a finger. He spoke, but his words didn't come through. Nathan concentrated on his playing. He had to bring in their conversation. Their lives might depend on it.
    Lowering her violin, his mother replied, but she, too, seemed like a player in a silent movie. After a few seconds of conversation, she rose from her seat, and the two embraced tenderly. Then, tears flowing, she waved as he walked away. He stepped gingerly, as if treading on thin ice, and disappeared from view.
    As his mother reseated herself and raised her violin, Nathan's arms weakened, feeling limp and numb. How long could he go on? And why did this effort drain his energy so easily? Would continuing to play do any good? He had already given it all he had, and he couldn't hear a word they said.
    He sidestepped toward the center of the chamber. There really was only one option. Knowing he couldn't speak and play at the same time, he tried to signal Kelly with his eyes. But would she see him with her foggy vision? Had she been able to watch the scene unfolding in the mirror above? Still, she had read his mind before, so maybe …
    “Get ready to flash the lights!” Kelly yelled as she ran to join him. “We're taking off!”
    Daryl jumped up and dashed over to the switches. “On your signal!”
    “No!” Dr. Gordon raised his hand. “The data stream suggests exactly what I described. This is likely a vortex. It's too