Vanished by Kathryn Mackel Page B

stairs," Chloe
said.
    "The stairs are long gone," Jon said.
    "No, they aren't. If you look hard enough, you can see them
on the other side."
    Jon didn't want to look. Something immeasurable was in
play here, something they shouldn't mess with. He reached out, mystified to feel no heat. This fire was an affront to the natural
laws of the universe.

    He had to figure this out-observe, measure, deduce,
decide. If they could discern the true nature of this thing that
appeared to be fire, perhaps they could also find a way to pass
by it and get to the stairs.
    "Chloe, honey. Stand with Tom. OK?" Jon said.
    "You're not approaching the fire," she said.
    "We'll do it together," Jon said. "Make ourselves a chain so I
can get close, check it out."
    "No. I don't like it."
    "He'll be all right," Hansen said. "We won't let him fall in."
    Jon needed something to extend into the flame. Their twoways had been lost in the mudslide. The particle collector was
on the far side of the fire. He bent down, untied his sneaker,
handed it to Chloe. He stripped off his sock, handed that to
Hansen, then put his sneaker back on. He balled his sock and
tied it into a fat knot. It wasn't much of a measurement device
but he wasn't ready to sacrifice his sneaker to the fire.
    This would be a simple experiment-either the sock would
burn or it wouldn't.
    "Tom, you hold onto me, and Chloe, you hold onto him. But
no straining."
    They linked up, hands clutched to forearms. Jon inched
forward, averting his gaze because the flames were mesmerizing. If he stared into them, he suspected that he'd uncover
a great truth. But maybe some things were best left hidden,
though he had never believed that until this very moment. And
did he truly believe that now-or was truth forcing itself on
him, so he had no choice but to believe?
    "Jon, you're veering sideways," Chloe said. "Focus"
    Yes. He needed to focus. It was the stairs that mattered. The
fire was irrelevant except as an obstacle.

    Three feet away now. Creeping forward. The fire was mute.
Like starlight is mute, Jon thought. Unless one is walking into
a fiery sun, and then it's elementary, Watson. No, elemental.
Get it straight, Sherlock. The interaction of hydrogen and
helium cast photons out as light into the void in a vast miracle
of power and might.
    What if he broke away and let the fire take him? Would
the hydrogen and oxygen, carbon and nitrogen that formed
Jonathan David Percy become a solitary photon before he
burned out?
    Could he make his own light?
    "Jon, you're pulling too hard," Chloe said. "Come on, slow
down."
    Her words drew him back into focus.
    Observe-this fire burned without fuel and spoke without
a voice.
    Measure-this fire burned without warmth and without an
apparent beginning or end.
    Deduce-this fire was impossible, and therefore could not
exist. That it did exist meant either their definition of fire was
wrong or it was limited by their means of observation and
measurement.
    Decide-touch, feel, know.
    That was what Jon wanted most, wasn't it? To know. Or was
it being known that he needed? Science teased him, strutting
out the laws of the universe with glory and majesty, trailing
him and Chloe in its wake. Know this, science said, but when
Jon knew, she'd uncloak the next mystery to be pawed over by
him and his fellow scientists. A pack of wolves ripping apart the
fabric of time and space and matter, clinging to their own scrap
of flesh and howling that they were the ones to pierce the heart
of the matter, raw tatters of the mystery clinging to their fangs
while the lifeblood flowed freely away-

    -Jon smelled blood now, longed to drink deeply of its
nature, not as a beast hungers for blood but as a child cries
for milk, because he would die if he didn't know and so he
followed the blood to the fire-
    -when something slammed against him. Jon kicked and
punched, trying to get to the fire. Almost there, reaching out his
hand, stretching, his body