“Weight?” Preston asked.

“Ten and one-half ounces.”

He nodded with a smile and wrote it down.

“The harness is sewn into the gown in this waistband, in the sash, and in the bodice. And these slots running along the tops of the sleeves will hold the torso rigging and trapeze clamps.”

“Those clamps are nearly ready,” Emile told her.

“What about the rigging?” Dane asked Emile.

Emile looked at Preston, who shared his concern. “The weight turned out to be a problem. We’ll have to go with a smaller-size filament. It’ll handle the load but it’s tougher to keep from tangling and obviously it’s tougher to see.”

“We’re sewing it up right now,” said Preston. “We’ll test it tomorrow and give you a report.”

“Fantastic.”

“So how’s she enjoying the hang gliding?”

Dane allowed himself a grim chuckle. “It’s the only thing that doesn’t make her nervous.”

chapter

48

Ten days before Mandy’s premiere …

Hands on the control bar and take off running. Feel that big kite lifting, pulling on the harness. Step off, ride on the air. You’re a bird.

It was Mandy’s second solo, and none too soon. She sailed close to the mountain slope, picking up speed, rocks and scrub blurring under her and looking close enough to tickle her belly. Down the slope was an SUV parked on a dirt road, its tailgate open, its cargo space filled with cages of doves. Preston Gabriel stood ready.

She’d reached through time and space and guided her doves plenty of times before, but never from a hang glider, and never quite as many.

Preston released the birds—twelve this time—and they fluttered from the SUV like tiny angels, wings flashing in the sun. They were circling, orienting, looking for her. She veered slightly left to keep them to her right.

“C’mon, birdies!” she called. She reached, wide awake, eyes open, much of her mind on her own flying.

There! She found Carson, her veteran, el primo. He responded right away, flying in the envelope of her invisible hand, power climbing to meet her. Maybelle and Lily followed him as they always did; Bonkers came around from one of his search circles, made eye contact, and came from behind. She had them, could feel them, and they could sense her, their Momma Dove. Now for the others. She’d worked with them on the ground and gotten them used to the effect. She hoped the training would stick in flight.

It did! First one, then two, then another one, then three more, then the rest all responded to her interdimensional touch— Oops! Not that way, over here!—and followed as she swooped past the SUV and Preston Gabriel waved.

She caught an updraft and could feel the sudden lift in her stomach. C’mon, birdies, c’mon!

They followed her in no particular formation, just flying along, playing a game.

Okay … Carson, take the lead… .

She reached and guided Carson to a point straight ahead of the wing, then set Lily and Maybelle wing-to-wing behind him. Bonkers happily slipped into the rear of the diamond formation.

Now for the point of the exercise: could she handle the rest of the birds and still have enough awareness to fly the glider? She still had envelopes around the others and extra copies of herself to keep track of things, so she and some other shes—she didn’t count how many, she was too busy flying the glider—went to work putting this dove here, those two over there, arranging, arranging, holding in place, aligning— wow, what a trip!The doves seemed to like it. They certainly weren’t alarmed. Maybe they felt sheltered, as if back in their nests.

The moment came. She got them into formation, the diamond out front, four wing-to-wing on the left in a swept-back line, four wing-to-wing on the right in a swept-back line, one big, graceful migratory V aligned perfectly with the glider’s leading edge—and they were holding formation! She could feel, touch, guide each and every one of them, and they were letting her, easy and steady, just doing what birds do.

It was weird, but oh, so beautiful!

Eight days before Mandy’s premiere …

Preston Gabriel had to strike a few deals and grease a few palms, but he got what he wanted: use of a rubble-strewn vacant lot where an old hotel had been imploded and a new one would soon be built. The lot was one of the few open areas left in town, and as luck and Providence would have it, only one block from the Orpheus. Wearing orange reflective vests and hard hats to look like they belonged there, Preston and a crewman walked the empty ground and looked back at the Orpheus to get a compass bearing. According to the weather forecast, the winds should be light and favorable. A little prayer might help.

The day before Mandy’s premiere …

VOOOOM!

Now, that was one impressive volcano. When the forty propane jets ignited and filled the crater with flame, the effect made Dane jump. He could feel the heat halfway up the bleachers. Andy the stage manager had warned all cast and crew to clear the stage for the burn, and with good reason. The heat was enough to singe their hair if not worse.

Emile, who sat beside him, asked, “What do you think?”

Dane had to force himself to look at Emile’s creation, the conical top of a volcano about 15 feet across and 6 feet high, the right size to dominate center stage and incinerate a pod dropped down its throat from 150 feet. Had he the presence of mind he would have said it drew curiosity, looked big budget, created anticipation, would be fun to watch, brought thrill to the stunt … but he couldn’t find the words.

He could see her through the blackening glass, crumpled over the steering wheel, the deflated airbag curling at the edges, melting into her face.

The volcano was setting afire the disposable fake trees near the crater’s edge. The effect was meant to frighten and add an element of danger. It worked. Dane looked away from the flames. “Impressive, Emile. I mean, reallyimpressive.”

Emile had to speak up over the simulated, amplified roar of the eruption. “As good as I could do for the money. I told Vahidi it didn’t have to be this big, but he’s concerned about the other volcano in town. He wanted something that would compete. Are you okay?”

The heat, the sound, even the smell …

Her hair crinkling, vaporizing down to her scalp … steam and smoke rising through her blouse.

“Well, let’s give it a go,” he said, just wanting to get it over with.

Emile radioed the crane operator, “Let her go.”

One hundred and fifty feet above the volcano, a dummy test pod hung from the cable. When the crane operator released the hook, the pod fell—it seemed to fall forever—and landed in the volcano with a carefully engineered crash and explosion that produced a ball of fire and a shower of fireworks. The pod was incinerated, just like that.

Just as planned, without a hitch. Dane felt sick. “Can you turn it off, please?”

“Sure.” Emile spoke into his radio, “Okay, kill the volcano.”

The volcano died with a smoky mutter, the shards and splinters of the fallen pod still flaming in its throat.

Here and there around the stage and bleachers, cast and crew applauded. Dane only wished he could have been stronger.

Emile must have read his face. “Dane. It’s okay. It’s going to work out.”

Of course, he thought, she won’t be in the pod. She’ll be long gone.

They’d run everything, starting at two o’clock, and the whole show took twenty minutes from Mandy’s magical appearance in the maw of the volcano—no fire at the time—to her soft-as-a-feather landing back on the stage in her hang glider, her doves circling about her. Turning on and testing the volcano came afterward just in case something unforeseen occurred that would have posed a danger. Nothing unforeseen happened.