The Dark Tower

Then the hum would begin, quickly buildingin volume as it moved toward the middle of their heads, and this room wouldagain fill with their frightened screams—

“Madam? Are you all right?”

“Yes. Why do you ask, Nigel?”

“I believe you shivered.”

“Never mind. Just get me to the door to NewYork, the one that still works.”

Six

Once they left the infirmary, Nigel boreher rapidly down first one corridor and then another. They came to escalatorsthat looked as if they had been frozen in place for centuries. Halfway down oneof them, a steel ball on legs flashed its amber eyes at Nigel and cried, “Howp!Howp!” Nigel responded “Howp, howp!” in return and then said toSusa

Twice Nigel asked her if she believed hiseyes could be replaced. The first time Susa

“I think my days of service are nearlyover,” he said, and then added something that made her arms tingle withgooseflesh: “O Discordia!”

The Diem Brothers are dead, shethought, remembering—had it been a dream? a vision? a glimpse of herTower?—something from her time with Mia. Or had it been her time inOxford, Mississippi? Or both? Papa Doc Duvalier is dead. Christa McAuliffeis dead. Stephen King is dead, popular writer killed while taking afternoonwalk, O Discordia, O lost!

But who was Stephen King? Who was ChristaMcAuliffe, for that matter?

Once they passed a low man who had beenpresent at the birth of Mia’s monster. He lay curled on a dusty corridor floorlike a human shrimp with his gun in one hand and a hole in his head. Susa

His other father. For this was aworld of twins and mirror images, and Susa

They came upon a number of other corpses;all looked like suicides to Susa

“How many are still here, do you think?”she asked. Her blood had had time to cool a little, and now she felt nervous.

“Not many, madam. I believe that most havemoved on. Very likely to the Derva.”

“What’s the Derva?”

Nigel said he was dreadfully sorry, butthat information was restricted and could be accessed only with the properpassword. Susa

Nigel turned left, into a new corridor withdoors on both sides. She got him to stop long enough to try one of them, butthere was nothing of particular note inside. It was an office, and long-abandoned,judging by the thick fall of dust. She was interested to see a poster of madlyjitterbugging teenagers on one wall. Beneath it, in large blue letters, wasthis:

SAY, YOU COOL CATSAND BOPPIN’ KITTIES!

I ROCKED AT THE HOPWITH ALAN FREED!

CLEVELAND, OHIO,OCTOBER 1954

Susa

Did these people once upon a time usetheir doors to vacation in various wheres and whens of their choice? Did theyuse the power of the Beams to turn certain levels of the Tower into touristattractions?

She asked Nigel, who told her he was surehe did not know. Nigel still sounded sad about the loss of his eyes.

Finally they came into an echoing rotundawith doors marching all around its mighty circumference. The marble tiles onthe floor were laid in a black-and-white checkerboard pattern Susa

Bill Cullen is dead. Don Pardo is dead.Martin Luther King is dead, shot down in Memphis. Rule Discordia!

O Christ, those voices, would theynever stop?

She opened her eyes and saw doors markedSHANGHAI/FEDIC and BOMBAY/FEDIC and one marked DALLAS (NOVEMBER 1963)/FEDIC.Others were written in runes that meant nothing to her. At last Nigel stoppedin front of one she recognized.

NORTH CENTRALPOSITRONICS, LTD.

New York/Fedic

Maximum Security

All of this Susa

#9 FINAL DEFAULT

Seven

“What would you like to do next, madam?”Nigel asked.

“Set me down, sugarpie.”

She had time to wonder what her responsewould be if Nigel declined to do so, but he didn’t even hesitate. Shewalk-hopped-scuttled to the door in her old way and put her hands on it.Beneath them she felt a texture that was neither wood nor metal. She thoughtshe could hear a very faint hum. She considered trying chassit—herversion of Ali Baba’s Open, sesame—and didn’t bother. There wasn’teven a doorknob. One-way meant one-way, she reckoned; no kidding around.

(JAKE!)

She sent it with all her might.

No answer. Not even that faint

(wimeweh)

nonsense word. She waited a moment longer,then turned around and sat with her back propped against the door. She droppedthe extra ammo clips between her spread knees and then held the Walther PPK upin her right hand. A good weapon to have with your back to a locked door, shereckoned; she liked the weight of it. Once upon a time, she and others had beentrained in a protest technique called passive resistance. Lie down on thelunchroom floor, cover your soft middle and softer privates. Do not respond tothose who strike you and revile you and curse your parents. Sing in your chainslike the sea. What would her old friends make of what she had become?

Susa

“Madam?”

“Nothing, Nigel.”

“Madam, may I ask—”

“What I’m doing?”

“Exactly, madam.”

“Waiting on a friend, Chumley. Just waitingon a friend.”

She thought that DNK 45932 would remind herthat his name was Nigel, but he didn’t. Instead, he asked how long she wouldwait for her friend. Susa