Chapter 9

Physically I drove my car home; mentally I made the trip on a cloud.

In every respect the night had exceeded even my wildest hopes and imaginings. Even in those amateur productions back in school, when the expectations (and competition) had been so much less, I'd never shone as I had on that stage. And then there was my dinner with Camilla, and the prospect of Scarpia ahead of me and all that would do to jump my career to a whole new level. To cap it all off, when I'd left her after taking her back to her hotel room to pick up the Tosca score, she'd kissed me good night! OK, so it wasn't much of a kiss, just a friendly peck, but it was on the lips and who knew where it might lead?

I was still euphoric as I walked in the door and found the cat, as I had two nights before, still sprawled out on the couch where I'd left him. Kitty seemed pretty lackadaisical about my belated return—it was pushing 2:00 a.m.—and I couldn't get him to share much in my elation. He did purr a bit, but when I let him out he was once again back almost immediately, and he turned up his nose when I offered him food. My absences, it seemed, were something he'd decided he didn't care for.

But he was for sure my good luck charm, and I didn't let his sulk spoil my mood. I cuddled him to me and carried him upstairs to bed, and we both lay down as I unwound and let myself drift into a happy sleep.

Soon I was back on that same silly beach, though this time I wasn't hurt. I was getting ready to go back to collecting more wood for my signal fire when the dream took a whole new turn.

Tonight I wasn't alone on that beach, I suddenly realized. The cat was with me, and he came up and stropped against me. I squatted down to pet him, and he climbed slowly onto my shoulder again with his tail twining as usual around my neck.

And he started talking to me! Part of my mind, sitting somewhere way over in a corner, observed all this and thought how silly it was. But he was talking anyway.

"Will you agree that I have done you a service?" he asked. His voice was maybe the most soothing sound I'd ever heard, almost like the waves rolling in from the sea around us.

Somehow I knew immediately what he meant—my singing. He'd been there when I'd had the sudden breakthrough, and somehow he'd been responsible for it.

"Yes," I replied in the dream.

"Then I must ask will you do me a service," he said.

"Beyond the beacon?" I asked. My sleeping self seemed to recognize that the electronic design I'd plotted out was far more than simply an upgraded gadget to lead me back home, it was somehow for him, not for me.

"Yes, beyond that," he told me. "I am ill. I will die if you do not help. I will die before you may make the beacon, it will be too late. Will you help?"

"Of course," I said.

"First you must see me as I am," he said. Magically he was no longer on my shoulder—dreams don't necessarily follow physical laws of motion—but on the sand in front of me, his tail now touching my wrist. "It will seem strange to you, but it will not be frightening."

And he morphed, right before my eyes. The part of my mind that was observing all this knew for sure right then that this was dreamtime, of course, but his body seemed to flow like water for a moment and then settle into a significantly different shape.

It wasn't, as he'd told me, a frightening change, but his new self looked very little like a cat. He was still covered in fur on his back and about halfway down each limb, but his face was now shaped very differently indeed; still two eyes and a mouth, but no nose at all and quite flat to his head. His torso was considerably elongated, and I could detect that instead of paws he had feet and hands with visible digits. And his tail no longer emanated from his hindquarters, now it was part of a mane that ran from his head halfway down his back and then extended well beyond his lower limbs to its contact with me.

Even in my dream state it was a bit surprising. I think I said something like "huh." But I was easy about it, and I felt easy.

"I am hurt here," he said, touching his ... chest? Well, the upper part of his torso anyway. "There is a part that is broken inside, and it has sharp edges where it is broken that stab into other parts and do more harm. What I must ask you is that you fix the broken part and also the parts that have been torn by it."

"OK, sure," said dream me. "If I can. But how do I do that?"