The Last Protector (28 page)

"Impressive,” Jape said, as they quickly stepped through the wall of the Stone. “You've sure learned quickly."

"I guess it just likes me."

Scrornuck marched up the road in a stiff, formal, military manner and sang:

It's a long way to Tipperary, for a good five-cent seegar!

It's a long way to Tipperary—do we have to go that far?

It's a long way to Tipperary, marching there from here,

It's a long, long way to Tipperary, can we stop for a beer?

"That's a good question,” Jape said, pointing ahead. A brisk morning's walk had brought them to the top of a small rise on the yellow brick road, from which they could see the little pub at the junction of the Southern and Western roads. “Let's find out."

They appeared to be in luck. The pub staff quickly showed them to a pleasant table beneath the sun-canopy. Scrornuck pointed to the ornate, empty throne at the head of the table. “I've been staring at these things for a week now. What's the point of them?"

"That's Spafu's Throne,” Nalia replied, no longer bothering to comment on her guests’ ignorance of tradition. “It means we welcome Spafu to join us."

"Does he do that?"

"He hasn't moved in a hundred years,” she said, stifling a
well, duh!
look. “I don't think he's going to join us for lunch today."

Scrornuck pulled the throne back from the table. “In that case I think I deserve the comfy chair a lot more than some absentee lizard."

"Wait—” Nalia and Jape said together.

It was too late. Scrornuck flopped into the throne—and it promptly collapsed into a pile of wood chips and paper scraps. “Ooh, that hurts,” he said as he slowly got back to his feet. He picked up a piece and crumbled it between his fingers. “Stupid thing's made of paper and balsa-wood!"

Three waiters arrived to clean up the mess. “And what,” demanded the group's leader, “were you doing trying to sit in Spafu's Throne?"

Jape quickly placed himself between Scrornuck and the waiter. “It was an accident. My associate isn't from around here, and he's not familiar with Taupeaquaahn customs."

"That's rather obvious.” The waiter began sweeping up the debris—and suddenly stopped, drew himself to his full height and looked very carefully at Scrornuck. “Out, out, out!” he ordered, pushing all three toward the exit. “You'll not be served here!"

Jape opened his purse and pulled out several gold pieces. “We're willing to pay for any damage..."

The waiter pushed more insistently. “Out, out,
out!"
He made a point of addressing his remarks to Jape and Nalia. “We've been told about the red-haired blasphemer, and he'll not be served here! Out, all three of you, now!"

Scrornuck stopped dead and glowered at the waiter. “I am sick and tired of this."

"Mister Saughblade, we are leaving.” Jape gave Scrornuck a not-too-gentle push.

Scrornuck looked at the waiter, at Jape, and back at the waiter. With a sigh of resignation and one last glance at a server carrying a tray loaded with food and drink, he left the pub.

Following Jape's maps and intuition, the three headed south on a grassy trail. About a half-mile along, where a curve in the road took them behind one of the concrete towers, Jape stopped.

"Gotta go already?” Nalia asked.

"I'm getting hungry."

Scrornuck's stomach rumbled. “Aren't we all!"

"Time to do something about it.” Jape took out a small, black leather case. “I'm going to get us some lunch."

"How?” she objected. “They know what you look like."

"Not for long.” Jape turned away for a moment, and when he turned back his eyes had changed from brilliant blue to dirty gray. Next, he poured some liquid from a small vial onto his hands and ran them through his hair, quickly changing it from blonde to a rather ordinary brunette. Finally, he turned his cape inside-out, changing it from a nondescript gray to a drab brown. “Master of disguise,” he said.

"I'm going with you,” Scrornuck said.

"If they see me with you, they won't let me buy anything."

"I can't let you go by yourself."

Jape surrendered with a shrug. “Keep your distance, stay out of sight.” He set off for the pub, striding down the middle of the road. Scrornuck followed at a distance, keeping low, scurrying from one bush to the next, sometimes crawling through the tall grass.

As Jape boldly entered the pub, Scrornuck watched warily from atop one of the concrete towers supporting the sunshade. A few minutes later, the Ranger emerged, carrying a large bag. Just when Scrornuck thought the shopping expedition had been a success, he heard a sudden shout from within the store, and three large men rushed out. Jape put his head down and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Look out below!” The three men paused as Scrornuck jumped to his feet and waved Ol’ Red over his head, the blade at its most spectacular length. He brought the sword down in a great arc, chopping through the ropes that held the sun-canopy. Screaming “yee-haaahh!” at the top of his lungs, he leaped from the tower and rode the sunshade as it swung downward into the beer garden. Jape hit the dirt as Scrornuck missed him by inches and slammed feet-first into the three pursuers.

The canopy collapsed into the beer garden, knocking over tables, scattering food and drink, entangling the patrons in the heavy netting. That should keep them busy for a while, Scrornuck thought with some satisfaction. He helped Jape to his feet, and the two started trotting away from the pub. “Master of disguise?” he needled.

"Contact fell out.” Jape's left eye was again that piercing blue color. He looked over his shoulder at the pandemonium in the beer garden. “We don't want to be here when they get themselves untangled.” With a quick nod, Scrornuck picked Jape up piggyback and headed down the road at a quick trot.

In a few minutes they'd reached the concrete tower where Nalia waited for them. “Success!” Jape said, holding up the bag. He'd gotten away with a small ham, a good-sized hunk of cheese and a loaf of bread. Even better, under a pile of ice cubes were two four-packs of beer, one each of Jape's light lager and Scrornuck's stout.

As Scrornuck shoved the groceries into his pack, Jape popped out the remaining brown contact lens, wiped the brown dye from his hair with a towel, and turned his cape back to a nondescript gray. “Let's get out of here before they decide to chase us."

They set off at a brisk pace, keeping a watch for any sign of pursuit. From time to time, when the road topped small hills, Scrornuck took the spotter-scope and looked back from atop one of the ubiquitous concrete towers. He saw nobody, and after an hour and the better part of five miles they stopped on a grassy hillside overlooking the road, beneath a few shade trees. Scrornuck spread out his plaid on the grass and pulled out the food and drink.

The ground at their picnic site was covered in thick, carpet-like grass that demanded bare feet, and Scrornuck quickly surrendered to the temptation. Reaching down behind his knee, he pulled on a little tab. With a soft hiss, his boots loosened and slipped off easily. He wiggled his toes and trotted around, enjoying the feel of the grass. “This is what feet were made for!"

Jape flashed a sly grin. “So you want to run around in the grass, do you?” He got out a golden disc about a foot in diameter. “Hey, Rover! Fetch!"

"Yahoo!” Scrornuck threw off his jacket and sprinted across the soft turf. When he was about fifty feet away, he spun around and trotted backward. “Throw that sucker!"

Jape threw the disc. It sailed toward Scrornuck, bobbing and swerving. He jumped and ran, trying to catch it.

"Another training exercise?” Nalia asked.

"Nah, this is just fun.” Jape opened the food bag and began to assemble a sandwich.

Scrornuck jumped. Even without the boots, he lifted himself a good three feet off the ground, hair flying, arms over his head, shirt coming untucked from his belt and showing off about half his stomach as he stretched to reach the disc. He tossed it back to Jape, who threw it his way again. This time it spiraled around as he chased after it, finally diving to snare it just before it dropped to the ground.

Nalia chuckled as she made a sandwich and opened a long-neck. “You remind me of a dog chasing a stick!” Scrornuck laughed, and tossed the disc back to Jape.

"I sometimes think he was a golden retriever in a past life,” Jape said, throwing the disc again. It soared up and over Scrornuck, flying in a graceful loop and coming up behind him. He jumped, spun about in the air, and with a shout of triumph he reached down and snared the disc as it passed between his knees.

After several minutes, Jape put the disc back into the pack, and Scrornuck returned, his shirt soaked with sweat and a huge grin on his face. “Woo, that's fun!"

"And it gave us a chance to have our lunch before you devoured it all,” Jape said.

"You know,” Scrornuck said, assembling a huge sandwich, “I think it's even nicer here than it was at that beer garden."

"At least you're already sitting on the ground."

"Don't remind me. A chair made of paper and balsa wood? What was that about?"

Nalia sighed. “Spafu's Throne isn't for sitting on. It's to be sacrificed, the last thing put on the altars on the final Sunday of the Fortnight."

"And I'm supposed to know that?"

"Everybody knows about Spafu's Throne."

"Everybody but me. I can't read minds, you know!"

She pointed at Jape. “Neither can he, but he didn't sit in Spafu's Throne."

"Hey, that's right,” Scrornuck said. He looked accusingly at Jape. “How come you knew and I didn't?"

"I just knew.” Jape chewed slowly as his eyes took on that far-away look they did when he struggled with a puzzle. He said nothing more as Scrornuck enjoyed a cold beer. “Think I've got it,” he said, suddenly returning to the world. “Mister Saughblade, you've never known all the little unwritten rules of civilized behavior, have you?"

"Like ‘go behind a tree to drain your kidneys'?” Nalia suggested.

"One lousy time,” Scrornuck grumbled.

"More than one time,” Jape said. “I've always assumed you're just a little rough around the edges, but perhaps there's more to it.” He held the blue ring close to Nalia's face and slowly twisted the jewel in its mount. It brightened to a steady glow, and then slowly dimmed to an almost imperceptible flicker. He next held the ring in front of his own face. The jewel flickered, brightened and finally turned altogether dark as he repeated the adjustment. Finally, he held the ring in front of Scrornuck's face. The jewel remained completely dark, no matter how Jape twisted it. “Uh-huh,” he said, “that would appear to be that."

"What?"

"You said you're not a mind reader—you didn't know how right you were. While there are very few good mind readers like Nalia, nearly all human beings have a little bit of mind-reading ability. That's how we know the unwritten rules like ‘don't sit in Spafu's chair,’ or ‘go behind a tree to do your business.’ But you, Mister Saughblade—” He held the ring in front of Scrornuck's face again. The jewel remained dark. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He reached in the pack and tossed Scrornuck an ice cube. “Put it behind your back. Now, Nalia, which hand is it in?"

"Uh, the right. No, wait, the left. No, it's not there, either.” She shook her head. “I can't feel a thing."

"There's a wall around your mind, Mister Saughblade,” Jape said. “Your thoughts can't get out and nobody else's can get in."

"So that's why I got all splattered in that training exercise!” Nalia exclaimed. “I couldn't read his mind, so I couldn't tell where the shots were coming from!"

Jape nodded. “I think that's what happened."

"And here I thought you just drank too many of those ghastly black beers,” she said.

"Hey, they're not ghastly.” Scrornuck held up his bottle of Batatat's. “They've got character, not like that wimpy stuff you two are drinking."

"I like a light lager,” Jape insisted.

"Go ahead and like it,” Scrornuck said, “but remember, there's a reason they put a picture of a dog on the bottle."

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"This is the place,” Jape said, bringing the party to a halt on a grassy hillside an hour or so after lunch. “Nalia, I've been paying you to pretend you believe there are other worlds.” He placed one hand on the watch-like device hanging from his belt. “It's time to stop pretending."

Scrornuck gently but firmly pulled the three close together as Jape thumbed a small switch. The air around them shimmered, as if dancing in summer heat, and seemed to fold in on itself.

And the world
changed.
The green hillside under a perfect blue sky was gone, replaced by a lifeless, muddy slope beneath a steel-gray sky streaked with pink, blue, yellow, and purple clouds. To the east, where the Rio Taupeaquaah had wound its way through the lowlands, a vast lake shimmered with an oily iridescence. Between the hillside and the lake, a huge paved road ran arrow-straight to the horizon in both directions. And on that road, a continuous stream of wheeled metal boxes roared by, belching clouds of blue smoke that burned Scrornuck's throat and made his eyes water. “No smoking section, please!” he croaked.

"Welcome to time stream STC937!” Jape's words were barely audible over the din. “The year is 2021, the place is twenty miles south of Topekuh, along Highway I-335. Do you believe me now?"

Nalia coughed and wiped her eyes. “All right, I believe you! Can we go home before we choke to death?"

Jape twisted the dial on the watch-like device, the air shimmered again, and the world changed back. They again stood on the beautiful green hillside, sucking in great gasps of the clean Khansous air.

"That's what the other worlds are like?” She bent over to let go of another long, raspy cough. “I think I'll stick with mine, thank you!"

Jape wiped some brown sludge from his nose. “Sorry it was so nasty, but it's the only world we could reach from here—and it's important that you believe there are other worlds."

"Well, I do,” she said, straightening up. “But I still expect to get paid!"