Bearing an Hourglass (39 page)

The others waited anxiously. Would the ick lead them the right way? If the creature had only been pretending to join them, it could guide them right into disaster—or simply deprive them of the Alicorn by leading the animal into a trap. How could they be sure?

Squeeze.

That was a relief. Sning might not be able to fathom the labyrinth of the castle interstices, but he had confidence in Hick.

The Alicorn returned, wearing the empty harness. They put the Bemme in it, and the winged unicorn departed again. It seemed that the Bemme could assume the form of an Alicorn, but could not actually fly like one; that was a matter of muscle and magic, not mere appearance.

“Say, pardner,” Dursten drawled, getting bored with the wait; he had a short attention span. “Do you have all this shipment in your world?”

“I suppose we do,” Norton answered. “We have both science and magic, so there could be castles like this, though I never encountered any myself.” Something about his own statement bothered him, but he couldn’t quite nail it down.

“ ’Cept you live backward,” the spaceman said.

“Backward?” Excelsia asked, her fair brow furrowing in the pretty way it had.

“Mine is a terrene-matter world,” Norton explained. “Yours is contraterrene, otherwise known as antimatter, so your time is reversed.”

“But we are together!” she protested.

“That’s because I am Chronos. I live backward. In my own world, everyone else is going the other way.”

“That must be very awkward for you,” she said.

“It is, on occasion. It does interfere with continuing social relations.”

“There be no such problem here,” she pointed out.

He looked at her. She was lovely. How nice it would be to have a continuing relationship with her, forever searching out new enchantments. But his world was in trouble, and he had to go back as soon as he could manage.

The Alicorn returned, and Excelsia boarded. Now Norton and Dursten waited, watching her candlelight recede. They were in darkness.

“I ain’t so dumb I can’t see how she likes you, Nort,” Dursten said. “If I was in your britches, I’d shore stick around!”

Norton sighed. “I’m sure that’s what Satan has in mind. If I am tempted to remain here, he can have his will with Earth.”

“Who’s Satan?”

“The Incarnation of Evil. You have no Devil here?”

“Hell, no! I’m a science man myself. I don’t believe none o’ that ship.”

“Perhaps he doesn’t exist here.”

“Must be,” Dursten agreed. “We ain’t superstitious.” He glanced at the hole; Norton could tell by the sound of his body moving. “I shore hope that there animal don’t get lost in the dark, knock on wood.” He tapped the plastic floor.

Then they heard the beat of great wings and relaxed. The spaceman’s nonsuperstitious knocking must have helped.

Dursten was next. “We’d never a needed this, Nort, if my danged spaceship had fitted in here,” he remarked as he mounted invisibly. “But I gotta admit, this shore’s
a good horse.” Then they were through the hole and gone, and Norton was alone.

Now the darkness seemed to press in on him. He was an adult, but he didn’t like this. He liked to see where he was and he liked company. He really felt the isolation of his office! This antimatter Cloud was indeed tempting, because of the companionship it allowed. To be able to interact with a woman like Excelsia, who seemed much more interested in him than she had been on the prior adventure, and to have her remember in the same sequence he did; to touch her, love her—

Touch her? Again he felt a wrongness. What was it? Not merely that Satan was tempting him; he knew that. Not that Excelsia would be unwilling; she was virginal but ready to be wooed. Not that there was any insurmountable difference between their cultures; they were remarkably similar. He loved the wilderness; she was a creature of it, not even knowing the city life. They had the same language—

Same language? How could that be? There had never been any contact between the people of the Glob or those of the Magic-Lantern Cloud and the people of the normal galaxy! There couldn’t be, because matter and antimatter could not touch. When the two came together, they annihilated each other, dissolving into total energy with an explosion that dwarfed any nuclear detonation.

Explosion? Total conversion? Then how was he able to exist here? He was normal matter; he knew that. He had lived most of his life normally, until taking the Hourglass. After that he lived backward—but he remained terrene, for he had touched normal people, such as Agleh, and normal Incarnations, such as Clotho, and could phase in with them any time.

Well, his magic white cloak protected him from attack, and might also protect him from the ravage of contact with antimatter. But he kept that cloak shield withdrawn when interacting with friends—which meant it wasn’t operating.

The more he pondered, the more certain he became
that Satan had lied to him. This was no contraterrene frame! It couldn’t be! He had kissed Excelsia, and neither of them had exploded. There had to have been social contact between Earth and these other worlds before. The Alicorn had referred to the Latins, Italians, and Arabs, and it was simply not to be believed that there could have been similar names in a frame having no contact with Earth. Without the antimatter aspect, such contact became feasible.

But how was it, then, that the time scale was backward?

He heard the wingbeats of the Alicorn’s return, and his thought was interrupted. But he remained shaken. There was definitely something about this too-similar-to-Earth setting that didn’t mesh, but he did not yet comprehend the full nature of Satan’s lie. And why should he? Satan was the Father of Lies, the ultimate professional in deception, while Norton was only a man, not long experienced in his present office. Still, now he was sure there
was
a lie to decipher! That was a significant revelation, and he would go on from there.

The Alicorn came to him in the dark, and Norton fumbled to a mounting. He braced his legs against the firm front anchorage of the great wings and grabbed two handfuls of mane. “Let’s go, gallant beast!” he said.

They squeezed through the hole and dropped into the void. The wings beat, and the Alicorn forged, as Excelsia would put it, onward and upward. They were flying—and it was a wonderful feeling! Little jets of flame showed at the creature’s nostrils as the Alicorn exerted himself, and the flame lighted the region dimly. No wonder the beast could handle himself in the dark; his own breath gave him just enough light to aid his excellent vision. This was certainly the finest of steeds!

They flew swiftly through the dark reaches, then cruised around a corner where two voids intersected. Norton saw dimly how massive arches of substance crossed from wall to wall, requiring the Alicorn to travel above or below; these would be the casings for the passages between
chambers of the regular mazes. This castle was twice as complicated as he had thought! Then they flew down to a cold nether pass, up to a warm high pass, and into the view of Excelsia’s flickering candle. The Alicorn landed neatly on a high, strong ledge where the rest of the party waited.

“You’re safe, Sir Norton!” Excelsia exclaimed, almost singeing his ear with the candle flame as she flung her arms about him. She planted a moist kiss on him.

Contraterrene? Not likely!

The ledge was the edge of a sloping surface that proceeded toward a dim glow inland. Hick rolled confidently down, and the others followed.

The glow expanded as they approached. It turned out to be a hot section of the pavement before a passage into a mound. The ick rolled to a stop at the edge of the glow.

“In there?” Norton asked, unpleased.

“Hick says yes,” Excelsia said. It was unclear how she communicated with either ick or Alicorn, as she did not always tap the former or touch the latter, but obviously she understood them. “He can’t go there; the heat would melt him. And it would singe Ali’s wings, too; he can’t escape it in that low tunnel.”

“How far in is the chamber?” Norton asked.

“Hick says not far. About fifty feet.”

This frame had the same measurements as Earth, too. Feet, inches. Everything was the same! “Then Hick and the Alicorn can wait here while the rest of us go in.”

The Damsel tested the air near the passage by extending her hand. “Ooo, that would burn my tender flesh!”

She was correct. The ambience was too hot for any of them. “I’ll go alone,” Norton decided. “If I can find a way.”

Squeeze.

“There is a way?” Yet again he was frustrated by Sning’s inability to speak. “Some way I can be protected from the heat?”

Squeeze.

Norton looked around, but saw nothing. “Sning says I can be protected—though I don’t know how.”

The Bemme slid up. She settled into a furry puddle about eight feet in diameter. “Her?” Norton asked, and received Sning’s squeeze in response.

“Oh, I get it,” Dursten said. “She’s a heat shield. Put her on.”

“Put her on?” Norton repeated dubiously.

The spaceman bent to pick up the thin material. It flopped and folded in his hands like a quilt. He held it out to Norton. “Yep. She’s good at this—she superinsulates, when she wants to. The perfect blanket.” The blanket purred.

Norton tentatively took hold of the Bemme-cloth. It felt like furry silk. He draped it over his head and shoulders. It was really quite comfortable. “This will really shield me from the heat?”

Squeeze.

“Okay, I’ll try it. I’ll return this way once I have what I need from the chamber.”

The others nodded. It struck him what an odd group they were—a swashbuckling spaceman, a voluptuous, innocent Damsel, a winged unicorn, and an animate bowling ball. But he liked them all; they were dedicating themselves to his welfare.

He turned and stepped onto the hot pavement. His solid shoes protected him from the immediate heat of it, and his Bemme-cloak shielded him from the ambient heat. It was working!

Nevertheless, he hurried. He ran through the tunnel toward a greener glow ahead—with luck, the chamber.

It was; in moments he burst into it, and the heat abated. But he kept the cloak draped over his shoulder, just in case.

He looked around. Four people stood in lighted alcoves: an old gray-robed, gray-bearded man; a stoutish, middle-aged woman in a business suit; a strikingly beautiful young woman in a bursting bikini; and a boy of about six with a moderately arrogant curl to his lip. They were all quite still, as if in suspended animation; perhaps they were in storage, awaiting whatever use the Eviler Sorceress might choose to make of them at her convenience.

What now? He had not known what to expect, and now did not know what to do with what he had found. “One of them can help me?” he asked Sning.

Squeeze.

“Can give me the amulet?”

Squeeze, squeeze.

Perhaps that had been too much to hope for. “Can you indicate which one?”

Squeeze, squeeze.

Still too complex for the little snake. Human beings were far more devious than mazes! Well, he couldn’t expect Sning to handle everything.

Norton went to stand before the old man. He saw now that the man’s robe was mail, linked and woven metal to protect him from attack. He wore a small iron crown, and his face was set in a half-sneer of authority. Surely he was some great king or warlord. “Uh, hello,” Norton essayed.

“Speak up, youngster!” the man said, coming to life in the alcove. His voice had a fine timbre. “Do you accept my gift?”

“I’m not sure. Who are you? What is your gift?”

“I am Ozymandius, King of Kings,” the king said grandly. “Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair. My gift is Power.”

“Power?” Norton looked around, but saw no works he could safely attribute to the king.

“Power, lad. I can make you the master of all you survey, with authority to extirpate lives by your merest whim.”

Norton pondered. “Do you know anything about this, Sning?”

Squeeze, squeeze.

Again, he would have to decide for himself. He remained uncertain, but had no alternative. “Can you give me power over the null-psi amulet?”

“Certainly,” the king said.

But Norton decided to try one more question. “Can you give me power over the whole contraterrene frame?”

“Indubitably,” the king assured him.

Just so. Norton moved on to the next person. Now he saw that the middle-aged woman’s suit was of woven gold, and she wore a necklace and bracelets formed of brilliant precious stones. “Hello, ma’am.”

“A greeting, young man,” the woman said, coming to life as the old king had. Evidently this was another rote address, as Norton was not really young. “Do you accept my gift?” Diamonds sparkled at her ears as she moved her head.

“Who are you, and what is your gift?”

“I am Mrs. Croesus, widow of the fabulous King of Lydia, who was the father of coinage. My gift is Wealth.” She extended her arm so that her sleeve pulled back to reveal additional bracelets of gold, platinum, and emeralds. She opened her jacket to show inner pockets stuffed with bright gold coins.

“Enough wealth to buy the null-psi amulet?”

“Certainly.” She moved her leg, and an anklet of sparkling opals showed.

“Enough to buy the contraterrene frame?”

“Assuredly.”

Norton went on to the next. “Hello.”

The lovely young woman animated. “Oh, aren’t you the handsome one!” she cooed. “I am Circe. Let me delight you with my gift.”

“What is your gift?” Norton had heard of the lovely sorceress Circe and didn’t trust her.

“Romance,” she breathed ecstatically. “I can bring you to fantastic heights of passion and fulfillment such as you can hardly imagine, let alone endure!”

“A height sufficient to make me forget about the null-psi amulet?”

“Of course!” she agreed, leaning forward.

Norton blinked. It took him a moment to remember his next question. “More passion than elsewhere in the contraterrene—?”

“Oh, yes!” She sighed. Her bikini halter was beginning to fray from the tension on it.

Norton took one last look, gulped, and moved regretfully on to the boy. “Hello.”

“What’s it to ya?” the lad snapped impertinently. “Ya want my furshlugginer gift or don’t ya, creep?”