Bearing an Hourglass (37 page)

“Why, shore,” the spaceman agreed laconically, glancing again at Excelsia’s décolletage. “You can ship right home, and I’ll take that there doll and …”

Excelsia huffed up to make an angry response, almost bursting out of her gown, but again Norton intercepted it. “And I’ll return when my job on Earth is done.”

“That, too,” Dursten agreed without complete enthusiasm.

They proceeded to the blob spaceship. The Bemme assumed the form of a petite female Alicorn and trotted along beside the real one, exchanging nickers.

Excelsia was fascinated and somewhat awed by the ship. “What magic mirror be this?” she inquired as the vidscreen lighted.

“Magic mirror!” Dursten echoed. “That’s great!”

The Bemme was showing the Alicorn the food synthesizer, producing delicious alfalfa hay for the animals to munch on.

The head of a Genius appeared on the screen. “Yes?” the wizened entity inquired.

“Ooo, a goblin!” Excelsia murmured with distaste.

“My friend Norton here did dang good service for you, and you never paid him,” Dursten said. “Now he needs a little—”

“We do not exchange favors,” the Genius said coldly. “We are strictly business.”

“Maybe we can do business, then,” Norton said. “All I need is some advice.”

The veined eyeballs swiveled to orient on him. Norton felt his hair getting hot. Quickly he extended his cloak ambience and was cool. The Genius’ orbs widened a trifle. “You counter my power?”

“I’m not from your cluster,” Norton explained. “You should have that information in your records, from my last visit with spaceman Dursten.”

“Records are suspect. You may be a Bem agent. You do occupy an alien ship.”

“Captured,” Dursten said quickly. “No Bems here.”

The cruel eyes flicked to cover the Bemme. “What is that?”

“That ain’t no Bem,” Dursten insisted. Fortunately, the Bemme had retained her little Alicorn mare form in order to chew on the hay.

The Genius’ eyes narrowed. Behind his back, Dursten made a signal. The Bemme jumped in the air, did a somersault, and landed on her back, shuddering and lying still.

“Oh, the poor thing!” Excelsia exclaimed, hurrying to the Bemme. She shot an angry glance at the Genius. “You mean goblin, you killed her with a spell!”

“Ixnay,” Dursten muttered under his breath.

Unmoved, the Genius returned his gaze to Norton. “Business?”

Norton was appalled by the creature’s callousness, but he knew he could not afford to pass up any chance to return to Earth before Satan completed his mischief. “I need to go back to my own world promptly. Can you transport me there, or tell me how to return on my own?”

“I am unable to read your mind,” the Genius said, as if this were a defect in the subject. It seemed the cloak of time protected Norton from this form of psi power, too. “Where is your world?”

“It’s in the terrene section of the galaxy. Time moves forward there—the reverse of yours. It’s called Earth.”

The Genius frowned. “Let me check our listing … yes, Earth is as you describe. A backward planet on the periphery of the main disk. It is fifty-seven thousand light-years distant. That would represent a considerable expenditure of psychic energy.”

“That must be why I can’t get there myself,” Norton agreed.

“You will have to perform an equivalent service for me.”

“Well, I can try,” Norton said cautiously.

“You are currently on the fantasy world of
i
. The Evil Sorceress resides there.”

“Not any more,” Norton said. “We destroyed her.”

“Destruction is seldom permanent in the magic realms.” But the Genius checked his records again. “True, you did discomfit her for two hours. She recovered, but during that period of incapacity she suffered certain losses.”

“The Alicorn,” Norton said.

“And the nefarious null-psi amulet that prevents us from following her activities. Her more powerful sister, the Eviler Sorceress, now possesses it. Fetch me that amulet.”

A Sorceress worse than the one he had encountered? Norton didn’t like that. “That sounds risky to me! She would hardly give up such a prize voluntarily.”

“True. That is my price for your return to Earth.”

“But it could take me a long time to get such a thing, if I didn’t get slimed on the way!”

“I suggest you move expeditiously.”

Norton sighed. What an uncompromising tyrant! “I’ll try.”

The owlish head faded out. Dursten turned off the screen. “Okay, Bemme,” he said.

The Bemme recovered instantly, flipping back onto her hooves, startling Excelsia. “You were pretending!” the Damsel exclaimed.

“Shore, I taught her tricks, like how to play dead,” Dursten said cheerily. “Figured it’d come in handy someday. Shore faked out the Genius, didn’t it!”

Excelsia’s brow furrowed. “But why?”

“Why else, twit? So the Genius don’t catch on she’s immune to psi, that’s why.”

Norton remembered. “Geniuses can’t touch Bems! That’s why they hire mercenaries to do it!”

“Shore,” the spaceman agreed. “If he’d zapped her, and it bounced, he’da known. So she played possum, and he figured she was a normal critter.”

“But you told him no Bems were here—”

“Right. Bems are male. Didn’t say nothin’ ’bout Bemmes.”

Norton realized that Dursten was more canny than he looked. He had indeed saved the Bemme from discovery and thus enabled Norton to deal. “I thought you didn’t like Bems,” he said, aware that an exception had been made.

“Well, I know this one,” the spaceman said, embarrassed. “She’s an orphan, you know, and a good kid. Real smart, too.”

There, of course, was the secret to peace; people did not hurt creatures they knew well. Strangers were fair game, but not associates. “It seems I’ve got a chore to do,” Norton said. “Anyone happen to know where the castle of the Eviler Sorceress is?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to go there!” Excelsia protested.

“I’ve just got to get that amulet—the sooner the better. So if you’ll tell me where the castle is, I’ll be on my way.”

“Only a heroic fool would brave the Eviler Sorceress in her lair!” the Damsel warned, wringing her hands.

“Surely so.”

“I can’t let you go alone, Sir Norton,” she said, troubled. “I will go with you.”

“Aw, shux, I’ll come too,” Dursten said then, skuffling his feet. “You helped me afore, after all.”

“But it may be dangerous,” Norton reminded them. “I don’t want you to take such a risk on my behalf.”

“You helped us, we’ll help you,” Excelsia said, her marvelous bosom heaving with emotion. “It’s only right.”

“Yeah,” Dursten agreed, his eyes goggling with each heave.

“Thank you both,” Norton said, moved.

Excelsia described the locale, and Dursten piloted the Bemship there, circling the planet and setting down outside the castle. The Damsel was suitably impressed with the strange flying vehicle, but the Alicorn snorted with something like jealousy.

The abode of the Eviler Sorceress was a gloomy thing, with dark turrets, a dismal moat, and a wolf baying at the wall. A plaque over the front gate proclaimed: ABANDON HOPE.

Norton gulped. “Well, thanks, folks,” he said. “I’ll take it from here.”

Excelsia looked at the castle. Her fair features seemed greenish at the moment. “I’ll—I will go with you, Sir Norton,” she said with tremulous bravery.

“Shux, me too,” Dursten said, though he looked none too confident himself. Perhaps he had hoped the Damsel
would let Norton go alone. “I don’t hold with none o’ this fantasy shimmer nohow.”

“I really appreciate this,” Norton said, feeling even more grateful than before. Satan had once assured him that he faced no genuine personal danger here, but now Satan was angry. “The Alicorn and the Bemme can wait in the spaceship—”

The Alicorn snorted. “He’s coming too,” Excelsia said.

The Bemme became a small humanoid robot. “Me too,” the screen face said, the screen showing a small feminine mouth.

“But you two aren’t even human!” Norton protested. “You have no call to risk your lives for us!”

The Alicorn made a series of snorts. “He says the Latins called him
Cornu
, horn, before they ever saw the rest of him,” Excelsia translated. “The Italians added the article, calling him
Licorne
, the horn. The Arabs added their article, calling him
Alicorno
, THE the horn. Now he is the Alicorn, and he says he has associated with human beings as long as human beings have existed—maybe longer. That is, with those who know the magic word to tame him temporarily. You have no authority to tell him not to associate now. He can use his horn to detoxify much of the poison of the Eviler Sorceress.”

“Well,” the Bemme robot spoke up, “my kind has fought the bone-fleshed kind ever since our two species went to space and discovered the delights of interstellar war. We even named your kind: MAN.”

“You did?” Norton asked, surprised.

“Of course. MAN—an acronym.” The mouth on the screen quirked with obscure humor.

“Oh? What do the letters stand for?”

“Multi-Appendaged-Numbskull, of course. Every creature who is worthy of the title of sapience knows that.”

“What?” Dursten exclaimed indignantly. “It can’t be that!”

The Bemme fidgeted, and the screen mouth frowned. “I did clean it up a little for mixed company.” Two eyes formed on the screen, glancing at the Alicorn.

“What’s the danged original?” the spaceman demanded.

“Mucky-Arsed—”

“We’d better get moving,” Norton said quickly.

Dursten hesitated, then decided to let the acronym pass. After all, he had asked for it.

They advanced on the drear castle. This one, like the other, was wide open for entry, as if daring strangers to try it. These Evil Sorceresses were entirely too confident! The other one had nearly finished Norton; only Sning’s intercession had saved him.

That reminded him. “Am I doing the right thing, Sning?”

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

He didn’t like that answer. It meant he could go either way, and he wanted to go the correct way. “Is it right to seek the null-psi amulet?”

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

How he wished Sning could talk to him directly! “Well, warn me when I start to go wrong.”

Squeeze.

They crossed the drawbridge and entered the dark aperture of the front gate. There was no sound; it was like a crypt. The air was cool and smelled faintly of earth.

“Ho!” Dursten called. “Anything in there?”

He was answered by a gust of wind that reeked like the flatulence of a corpse, and a low moan, as of breath sighing through deserted chambers.

Excelsia shivered. She wasn’t wearing much, but her torso was excellently padded; her chill was more of the spirit than of the flesh. “I wish we had a candle,” she said.

“You could conjure one,” Norton suggested. “Aren’t you entitled to one conjuration a day?”

She brightened. “Candle!” she exclaimed, and one appeared in her hand. It was a big taper, already burning, and it spread a fine light.

“Say, that there’s a real good parlor trick,” Dursten said. “Too bad you couldn’ta produced a laser fluoroscope, so we could spy the null-psi dingus through the walls.”

The Damsel shrugged, not understanding his language. But Norton realized that the candle probably had been foolish, for she could indeed have conjured something far more effective for either illumination or protection. Well, he should have thought of that before he spoke; now her conjuration was done, and that was that. They would have to make do with what they had. The light of the candle was comforting, anyway. There was something about a flickering flame; it seemed alive, in contrast to the cold brilliance of an electric lamp.

They entered the dark hole. The Alicorn led, since he could see and smell in the dark, was largely immune to poisonous magic, and had his weapon always ready. Excelsia followed with her candle, illuminating the passage for the rest of them. Her gauzy gown tended to become translucent when the light was on the far side. Norton admired the effect, but wished it wasn’t occurring right at this time; he needed to be alert to the hazards of the castle.

Next came Norton, followed by Dursten, with the Bemme in her natural form bringing up the rear. She, too, could see pretty well in the dark because of her huge eyes. As Norton glanced back, he could see a thousand miniature candles reflected in the jewellike facets of her orbs. He doubted the Bemme would overlook anything!

The passage proceeded directly in toward the center of the castle. It was about eight feet square in cross section, lined on all sides by clammy, mortared stones. In fact, those walls sweated tiny driblets of water that gleamed in the candlelight. The whole thing was dank and oppressive. Norton began to feel claustrophobic, for no good reason.

The Alicorn came to a blank wall cutting off the passage. The light of the Damsel’s candle showed smaller tunnels exiting at right angles to the left and right.

“Which way should we go?” Norton asked Sning.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

This was getting annoying! “Don’t you have opinions any more?”

Squeeze.

“You mean I’m not asking the right questions?”

Squeeze.

Norton sighed. Maybe on a better day he would have been able to come up with the right questions and cut through this nuisance instantly; right now he was too distracted by the exigencies of the moment. It had been a long time since he had had a chance to relax and recuperate.

“Maybe we could split our party, and—” Dursten began.

“No!” Norton and Excelsia said together. They remembered getting separated in the castle of the other Sorceress.

Dursten shrugged. “Suit yourself. Pick a tube.”

Norton chose randomly. He pointed right. “That one.”

There was no warning squeeze from Sning, so they proceeded. This passage was narrower, only four feet across. It made another right-angle turn left and debouched into a chamber whose cross section was about twenty-five feet and whose ceiling arched high above. The candle hardly lighted it all. Its far end, fifty feet distant, seemed to have another tunnel exit.

They spread out and started across.