I landed us atop Helix, Betty's largest apartment-complex, whereinEleanor had her double-balconied corner suite, affording views both ofthe distant Noble and of the lights of Posh Valley, Betty'sresidential section.

Eleanor prepared steaks, with baked potato, cooked corn,beer--everything I liked. I was happy and sated and such, and I stayedtill around midnight, making plans for our future. Then I took a cabback to Town Square, where I was parked.

When I arrived, I thought I'd check with the Trouble Center justto see how things were going. So I entered the Hall, stamped my feet,brushed off excess waters, hung my coat, and proceeded up the emptyhallway to the elevator.

The elevator was too quiet. They're supposed to rattle, you know?They shouldn't sigh softly and have doors that open and close withouta sound. So I walked around an embarrassing corner on my way to theTrouble Center.

It was a pose Rodin might have enjoyed working with. All I cansay is that it's a good thing I stopped by when I did, rather thanfive or ten minutes later.

Chuck Fuller and Lottie, Eleanor's secretary, were practicingmouth to mouth resuscitating and keeping the victim alive techniques,there on the couch in the little alcove off to the side of the bigdoor to T.C.

Chuck's back was to me, but Lottie spotted me over his shoulder,and her eyes widened and she pushed him away. He turned his headquickly.

"Juss..." he said.

I nodded.

"Just passing by," I told him. "Thought I'd stop in to say helloand take a look at the eyes."

"Uh--everything's going real well," he said, stepping back into thehallway. "It's on auto right now, and I'm on my--uh, coffee break.Lottie is on night duty, and she came by to--see if we had any reportswe needed typed. She had a dizzy spell, so we came out here where thecouch..."

"Yeah, she looks a little--peaked," I said. "There are smellingsalts and aspirins in the medicine chest."

I walked on by into the Center, feeling awkward.

Chuck followed me after a couple of minutes. I was watching thescreens when he came up beside me. Things appeared to be somewhat inhand, though the rains were still moistening the one hundred thirtyviews of Betty.

"Uh, Juss," he said, "I didn't know you were coming by..."

"Obviously."

"What I'm getting at is--you won't report me, will you?"

"No, I won't report you."

"...And you wouldn't mention it to Cynthia, would you?"

"Your extracurricular activities," I said, "are your own business.As a friend, I suggest you do them on your own time and in a morepropitious location. But it's already beginning to slip my mind. I'msure I'll forget the whole thing in another minute."

"Thanks Juss," he said.

I nodded.

"What's Weather Central have to say these days?" I asked, raisingthe phone.

He shook his head, so I dialed listened.

"Bad," I said, hanging up. "More wet to come."

"Damn," he announced and lit a cigarette, his hands shaking."This weather's getting me down."

"Me too," said I. "I'm going to run now, because I want to gethome before it starts in bad again. I'll probably be around tomorrow.See you."

"Night."

I elevated back down, fetched my coat, and left. I didn't seeLottie anywhere about, but she probably was, waiting for me to go.

I got to my car and was halfway home before the faucets came onfull again. The sky was torn open with lightnings, and a sizzlecloudstalked the city like a long-legged arachnid, forking down brightlimbs and leaving tracks of fire where it went. I made it home inanother fifteen minutes, and the phenomenon was still in progress as Ientered the garage. As I walked up the alley (cane switched on) Icould hear the distant sizzle and the rumble, and a steady half-lightfilling the spaces between the buildings, from its_flash-burn-flash-burn_striding.

Inside, I listened to the thunder and the rain, and I watched theapocalypse off in the distance.

Delirium of city under storm--

The buildings across the way were quite clear in the pulsing lightof the thing. The lamps were turned off in my apartment so that Icould better appreciate the vision. All of the shadows seemedincredibly black and inky, lying right beside glowing stairways,pediments, windowsills, balconies; and all of that which wasilluminated seemed to burn as though with an internal light.Overhead, the living/not living insect-thing of fire stalked, and aneye wearing a blue halo was moving across the tops of nearbybuildings. The fires pulsed and the clouds burnt like the hills ofGehenna; the thunders burbled and banged; and the white rain drilledinto the roadway which had erupted into a steaming lather. Then a_snapper_, tri-horned, wet-feathered, demon-faced, sword-tailed, andgreen, raced from around a corner, a moment after I'd heard a soundwhich I had thought to be a part of the thunder. The creature ran, atan incredible speed, along the smoky pavement. The eye swooped afterit, adding a hail of lead to the falling raindrops. Both vanished upanother street. It had taken but an instant, but in that instant ithad resolved a question in my mind as to who should do the painting.Not El Greco, not Blake; no: Bosch. Without any question, Bosch--withhis nightmare visions of the streets of Hell. He would be the one todo justice to this moment of the storm.

I watched until the sizzlecloud drew its legs up into itself, hunglike a burning cocoon, then died like an ember retreating into ash.Suddenly, it was very dark and there was only the rain.

Sunday was the day of chaos.

Candles burned, churches burned, people drowned, beasts ran wildin the streets (or swam there), houses were torn up by the roots andbounced like paper boats along the waterways, the great wind came downupon us, and after that the madness.

I was not able to drive to Town Hall, so Eleanor sent her flyerafter me.

The basement was filled with water, and the ground floor was likeNeptune's waiting room. All previous high water marks had beenpassed.

We were in the middle of the worst storm in Betty's history.

Operations had been transferred up onto the third floor. Therewas no way to stop things now. It was just a matter of riding it outand giving what relief we could. I sat before my gallery and watched.

It rained buckets, it rained vats; it rained swimming pools andlakes and rivers. For awhile it seemed that it rained oceans upon us.This was partly because of the wind which came in from the gulf andsuddenly made it seem to rain sideways with the force of its blasts.It began at about noon and was gone in a few hours, but when it leftour town was broken and bleeding. Wyeth lay on his bronze side, theflagpole was gone, there was no building without broken windows andwater inside, we were suddenly suffering lapses of electrical power,and one of my eyes showed three panda-puppies devouring a dead child.Cursing, I killed them across the rain and the distance. Eleanor weptat my side. There was a report later of a pregnant woman who couldonly deliver by Caesarean section, trapped on a hilltop with herfamily, and in labor. We were still trying to get through to her witha flyer, but the winds...I saw burnt buildings and the corpses ofpeople and animals. I saw half-buried cars and splintered homes. Isaw waterfalls where there had been no waterfalls before. I firedmany rounds that day, and not just at beasts from the forest. Sixteenof my eyes had been shot out by looters. I hope that I never againsee some of the films I made that day.

When the worst Sunday night in my life began, and the rains didnot cease, I knew the meaning of despair for the third time in mylife.

Eleanor and I were in the Trouble Center. The lights had justgone out for the eighth time. The rest of the staff was down on thethird floor. We sat there in the dark without moving, without beingable to do a single thing to halt the course of chaos. We couldn'teven watch it until the power came back on.