Swell Foop (11 page)

Cassaundra considered. "I wonder whether your moon can help. It is of course the soul of our own world, Ptero; we normally are unable to see it as a sphere. It is responsive?"

"Why, I don't know," Ida said, as her moon hid behind her head. "On Xanth it is, but there it is this world. I don't know how perfectly its soul duplicates the original."

"Surely as competently as our souls duplicate our larger existences," Justin said.

"Let's find out," the centaur said. "Soul-Ptero, come forward."

The moon swung hesitantly to the centaur's side.

"Do you emulate your larger self perfectly?"

The moon bobbed up and down.

"I take that as yes," Cassaundra said. "Can you answer questions?" The moon bobbed again.

"Are your answers accurate?"

A third bob.

"Better try a negative," Cassaunova murmured. Justin knew why: The bobbing might be mindless.

"Are the creatures on your surface different from those of our world?"

Now the moon swung from side to side, indicating no.

"Do you know the outcome of your group's mission here?"

Another side swing.

"If that mission fails, will all be well?"

The moon turned dark and blistered as it swung.

That made them all take note. It indicated destruction.

"And if the mission succeeds?"

The moon turned bright and alive again.

Cassaundra nodded. "I believe I will accept this demonstration as a sufficient exchange favor. I will convey you to your destination."

Now Catarrh Centaur addressed Unpun. "You are a zombie, like me. What favor do you offer for your transport to the pun-kin patch?"

"None," Unpun said. "I don't want to go there."

"Why is this?"

"Because my love is there, making awful puns, polluting the region. I lost my sense of humor, and can't stand to be among them."

"I should clarify that his humor would be recovered, if our mission succeeds," Justin said. "If he returns to life, he will resume abolishing puns. That is his talent."

All three centaurs were interested. "He could thin out the dreadful glut?" Catarrh asked.

"Yes," Justin agreed. "But as it is, lacking his humor, he doesn't want to go near that glut."

"We appreciate his position," Cassaunova said.

"Yet we also appreciate the need to restore this man to life and talent," Cassaundra said.

"For the good of our realm, I will convey you to the pun-kin patch," Catarrh said to Unpun.

"No!" Unpun walked away.

"I did not ask your agreement," Catarrh said, walking after the zombie. He picked Unpun up and set him on his back.

Because of the position, Unpun was mounted facing back. "I won't go."

The centaur started walking. Cassaunova and Cassaundra quickly helped the other two mount facing forward, and paced the other. They ignored Unpun's continued protests. It was evident that the zombie lacked the ability to dismount without help, so he was stuck.

"Nicely accomplished," Justin murmured.

"We are not stupid," Cassaunova murmured back, in a polite understatement. No centaur was slow, let alone stupid.

The centaurs galloped not east or west, but north, so age was no problem. That was a private relief to Justin, for though he was technically over a century old, so was proof against much problem of youth, he wasn't sure of the others. Also, he had been a man for only the past two years; would he revert to being a tree beyond that point? That would surely complicate things. It was better simply to remain their present ages.

Justin projected his voice. "Hello, party," a passing fudge nut tree seemed to say.

"That's so clever," Cassaundra said with a brief laugh.

"Thank you," a green ant hill said in Justin's voice.

Then they passed a mean-looking tangle tree. Its tentacles quivered expectantly, for their path was uncomfortably close to it. "Oh, I am about to fall into that tree!" Justin's voice said right behind it. The tree's tentacles whipped around to the rear, grabbing at air, as their party got by. It had been deceived for just that time necessary to secure their safety.

"Admirable," Cassaunova said.

A stray thought occurred. "I am, as you know, new to this realm," Justin said. "So this may be a stupid question."

"Stupid questions we are prepared to deal with," the centaur said. "It is stupid answers that disturb us."

"Since everything imaginable exists here on Ptero, are there duplicates of the three of us?"

"Certainly. But we don't encourage meetings, as they can lead to paradox."

"Paradox?"

"You of Xanth proper are not supposed to know your futures, unless you patronize some approved divination or other magic. If you travel into your own future here, where time is geography, you may learn things you should not."

"That is a reasonable proscription," Justin agreed regretfully. He had been curious about the outcome of their present mission, but one whiff of paradox might spoil an otherwise acceptable outcome.

"I have answered a question, perhaps unsatisfactorily," the centaur said. His tone was low, so that his voice did not carry far.

"And I should answer one in return," Justin said, remembering that nothing was done here without an exchange. "With whatever acumen is feasible."

"Have you any insight on interpersonal relations?"

"Very little, I fear. I was a tree, until I met Breanna of the Black Wave. She soon took me away from all that."

"I would like to have more of a relationship with Cassaundra, but she doesn't take me seriously. We gallop together, but go no farther, as it were."

"She assumes that your ambition with respect to every filly makes her merely one of an innumerable number."

"Precisely. But I would settle for her, were she inclined. She is a nice person."

"Perhaps I can help. I shall speak to Ida, with your permission."

"I have no objection."

Justin projected his voice to Ida's ear. "This is Justin," he whispered. "Cassaunova would like to have a serious relationship with Cassaundra, but she does not take him seriously, because of his reputation. If she would like such a relationship, she should perhaps take the initiative. It would be helpful if you discussed this prospect with her."

Princess Ida glanced across at him and nodded.

"I spoke to Ida," Justin said to Cassaunova. "She will converse with Cassaundra, suggesting that she take the initiative. I can't promise that anything will come of this."

The centaur shrugged. "If Cassaundra approaches me, she shall find me receptive."

After a reasonable interval the centaurs slowed. "We are nearing the border of our region," Cassaunova said. "We must pass through a comic strip to enter the little machine region, which in turn borders the one we seek."

"Little machines?"

"A young woman makes them from inanimate objects. They are peculiar as machines go, and other machines do not approve of their origin, so they are isolated from the main machines."

"But first we must cross the comic strip," Cassaundra said with a delicate shudder.

"Indeed," Cassaunova agreed. "It may be best to plunge through it rapidly."

"What can be so bad about a comic strip?" Justin inquired.

He saw the two centaurs exchange a glance, to which the female added half a smile. It lit half her face, making it prettier. "On reconsideration, let's walk through this one," she suggested. "So they can experience it more fully."

Cassaunova nodded and led the way. He stepped across a faintly shimmering line on the ground.

A strange man appeared "Get your cures here," he said loudly. "Very reasonable prices. Offer will not be repeated."

"Why, I could use a cure," Cassaundra said.

"Sorry, no females need apply," the man said. "My cures are only for men. I'm a man-i-cure."

"Oof," Justin said involuntarily. "What a pun!"

Then he received a rough poke in the side. He jumped, and saw that he had brushed up against a big knobby plant. No—it was reaching out to poke him and the centaur.

"Poke weed," Cassaunova said. "Can't be avoided in this nefarious strip."

Another obnoxious pun. "Let's move on," Justin said somewhat shortly.

A bird flew up before them with a great racket of wings. It was green, and seemed to be made of strung-together green beads. One of the beads flung loose and landed in Justin's lap. Suddenly he felt the urge to urinate. He quickly brushed it off, and the urge abated. "What was that?"

"A peacock," the centaur explained. "A bird made entirely of peas."

"Oof!" Justin repeated. There was more to that pun than met the eye.

They came to a path running down the center of the comic strip. It was wide and smooth. "This seems nice to travel," Ida said.

Cassaundra shook her head. "We must cross it quickly."

Before anyone could ask why, several weird things came zooming along the path. They seemed to be human beings on wheeled devices that they impelled by the use of pedals. But instead of proceeding in single file, they were constantly crashing into each other. Some were sitting facing back, while others were resting on their heads, with their feet in the air and using their hands to pedal. All of them had crazy looks on their faces. "Get out of my way!" one yelled at another as he veered into the other, making them both crash.

"No, you get out of my way!" the other retorted, getting back on his machine and deliberately colliding again.

There was a growl from below. The path, evidently annoyed, heaved up and hurled both cyclists forward. But as soon as they got their wheels under them again, the two resumed their reckless behavior.

"What on earth is going on?" Justin asked, appalled.

"This is a cyclepath," Cassaunova explained. "All the cyclers on it are crazed. They are positively cyclepathic."

"Oof!" This time it was Unpun. "I can't stand it!"

"Fortunately you are sitting," Catarrh said with a rotten smirk.

"The path seems none too pleased, either," Ida remarked.

"Oh, that's just road rage," Cassaundra said.

All three visitors groaned.

"Do you think they have seen enough?" Cassaunova asked her innocently.

"Yes, more than enough!" Justin said.

"Then let's leap out of here." The three centaurs meant that literally; they leaped across the cyclepath and again to the far side of the comic strip.

The terrain beyond was pleasant enough, especially as it was punfree. But scattered across it were assorted small objects that turned out to be machines. Some looked like stones, but they put down stony legs to move out of the way. Others looked like sticks, until they clicked open wooden eyes. Still others were more complicated, doing all manner of obscure tasks. A number were building a little house.

The centaurs drew up before that house. "Three greetings, Lyn!" Cassaunova called.

A little machine cranked open the door and a young woman stepped out. "Why, hello, Cass," she said. "Are you still romancing all the girls?"

"Well—"

"No, he isn't," Cassaundra said.

Both Cassaunova and Justin paused for a moment. Was that an initiative?

"Then to what do I owe this rare visit?" Lyn inquired.

"We are merely crossing your region," Cassaundra said. "We thought we should stop by, in case you have objection."

"Are you planning to do any damage?"

"No, of course not." Then the centaur filly reconsidered. "Unless you consider the abolition of some puns to be damage."

"By no means! Puns are overflowing the pun-kin patch and polluting the land. Something needs to be done before we all perish of groaning."

"This backward fellow is Unpun," Catarrh said. "We hope to help restore him to life and humor, so that he can resume the destruction of puns. That is his talent, in life."

"Oh, Unpun, I could kiss you!" Lyn said. Then she reconsidered. "After you are no longer a zombie, of course." She smiled, hinting that this was not completely serious.

"Of course," Unpun agreed sourly, finding no humor in the situation.

"We must be on our way," Cassaunova said. "I trust you will wish us success."

"Oh, I do, I do!" Lyn agreed. "I hate it when puns gum up the works of my machines. I had a nice harvest reaper, until a pun made it a weeper and it cried until it rusted."

"A very sad event," Cassaundra agreed, though a trace of a smile hovered near her mouth.

"Completely unfunny," Unpun agreed.

They resumed travel, and soon enough came to another comic strip. "Now we shall have to enter this and search for the pun-kin patch," Cassaunova said. "The experience will not be pleasant, but must be endured."

"I have no intention of enduring it," Unpun said. "You enter the strip; I'll wait here."

"Of course," Cassaunova said, nodding at Catarrh.

Then, together, the three centaurs jumped into the comic strip. Unpun's scream resounded throughout the welkin, shaking the very sky.

A figure loomed before them. It wore a robe covered with planetary symbols. "Ah, I see you are in the proper mood for your horror-scope," it said. "Your fate is bound to be horrible. Let me cast your fates—"

They walked on by, but there was another figure there. She looked very sweet. "My name's Candi. Have something for your sweet tooth." She held out a box of candy.

"That does look nice," Ida said.

"Don't touch it!" Cassaundra said. "It will turn your teeth into candy. That's what a sweet tooth is, in the comic strip."

"Oh," Ida said, taken aback.

They went on by the sweet girl, and encountered an elder man. "Here are your berries," he said, showing an assortment of yellow, red, green, brown, black, and blue berries. "They will make you wise."

"They will also make you old," Cassaunova said. "Those are elderberries."

"What an awful idea!" Justin exclaimed.

"Well, this is the world of the idea," Ida reminded him. "And the section of it to make them foolish."

"We still have to locate the pun-kin patch," Cassaundra said. "These are mere distractions."

"I think we have no choice but to keep looking."

They looked. "There's something," Justin said. It appeared to be a giant flower.