The Last Protector (31 page)

After another timeless time spent walking across the gray desert, he reached the foot of the mountain and found a trail leading up. He had company on the long climb—not the inhabitants of this watered-down Hades, for while he had invited many, none were willing to accompany him—but rather, some knee-high creatures that looked vaguely like a cross between an insect and a scorpion. They skittered about, waving their claws, gnashing their teeth, following but not interfering with his journey.

He'd climbed about halfway to the peak when a flash of blue-white light, the first real color he'd seen, appeared in the sky. It seemed to be outside the dome, for it descended slowly and vanished on top of the mountain. Wondering if this might be his judge, he picked up his pace, rapidly leaving the insect-like creatures behind.

Soon he reached the place where the mountain passed through the lavender sky. The trail appeared to continue beyond the dome's boundary, but when he tried to climb he found the “sky” was a tough, elastic membrane that blocked his path. He retreated a few steps to contemplate how best to continue.

The sky quivered and rippled, and a foot, clad in a bright-blue boot, stuck through. A moment later the rest of the Blue Man followed, and Scrornuck rushed to greet his friend.

Before he could speak, he heard from behind a purposeful clicking, clacking, grinding noise—the sound of uncountable claws and teeth sharpening and preparing to attack. He turned and saw the mob of insect-like creatures scuttling up the mountainside. They were after the Blue Man, and Scrornuck somehow knew that if they made even a single rip or tear in that blue suit, his friend would be dead.

The Blue Man retreated, moving awkwardly up the trail, and quickly found himself trapped against the unyielding purple-gray sky. He pushed hard, but the elastic membrane simply stretched and pushed back. As the bug-like creatures closed in, Scrornuck drew his sword and charged. He hacked the insects apart by the dozens, but there seemed to be an infinite supply of them. The bugs climbed up his legs, biting and snipping off little chunks of skin and flesh and leaving behind not wounds but small, bloodless holes. Perhaps he wasn't made of flesh and blood, after all.

As the bugs pressed their attack, Scrornuck was forced to back up, until he was only a few feet from the Blue Man. The creatures climbed up his arms, snipping bits and pieces of his fingers, and he knew he'd soon lose his ability to control the sword with his grip. He shook the insects off, only to have more climb up, onto his shoulders, onto his face, snipping away at his eyes and nose. Roaring in anger, desperation and rage, he raised his arms high over his head and rammed Ol’ Red's grip hard against the inside of the dome. As the bugs swarmed over him one more time, he shifted his fingers just so. The glowing blade surged forth, hammering the underside of the dome. The membrane stretched tight, Scrornuck's elbows and knees buckled as he fought to push back, and with a sudden tearing sound, the dome gave way.

The wind shrieked as gray mist blew through the rip and into the blackness beyond. As he felt the dome tear further, he shifted his grip, shaping the sword's blade into a tube, forcing the wound in the dome further apart, making it big enough for his companion to make his escape.

The dome suddenly ripped wide open, and the howling wind launched Scrornuck into the black sky. The bugs abandoned their attack and dropped away, some frothing and bursting as though something were boiling within them. A storm of violet-white flame and lightning surrounded the mountaintop as the surface of the dome peeled back and huge pieces of the membrane flew into the darkness. At the center of the gale, surrounded by flying chunks of the dome and clouds of swirling mist, a spidery machine rose from the top of the mountain on a column of pale blue flame. Scrornuck felt himself being drawn toward the machine, and realized he was again without a physical body, not breathing, unable to feel hands or feet.

For a time he slept. When he awoke, he was with the Blue Man, in the vessel they'd stolen earlier, the gray landscape receding rapidly behind them. “Nick of time,” the Blue Man observed, looking down at his hands and smiling. He wore a number of rings, one of them an emerald, a jewel so beautifully green that it almost seemed to glow.

"So that's my dream, or my memory,” Scrornuck concluded. “I can't help thinking there's a reason I'm remembering it now. But I can't figure out what it is."

Nalia chewed the last of her
huevos
slowly, as if chewing on the story as well. “You know, the big purple dome in your story sounds an awful lot like the Orb. You don't suppose..."

"This dome was miles across,” Jape protested. “The Orb we saw at McGinn's was just a little ball."

"It was bigger on Friday night,” Scrornuck said. “Maybe it's still a baby."

By midday the three had followed the trail about a third of the way up the mountain's northern slope, and found themselves at the head of a narrow sandstone canyon. Bright-green ferns hung from the ravine's sheer walls, and the brook had carved three round pools, each about ten feet across, separated by small, cheerfully burbling waterfalls.

Scrornuck stuck a finger into the cool, gently swirling water of the upper pool. “Mother nature's own whirlpool bath!” he said. “Who's ready for a dip?” Jape and Nalia nodded, and in short order the three were soaking contentedly, enjoying a tasty picnic lunch and sipping ice-cold beers.

"Eek!” Nalia jumped as a little blue fish nipped at her toe. “What's that?"

Scrornuck winked at Jape. “Khansous piranha, maybe?"

Jape stared into the water and deadpanned, “They're the worst kind—I've heard a school of them can strip a man to his bones in minutes."

As Nalia shrieked and tried to scramble out of the pool, Scrornuck burst out laughing. “Relax,” he gasped, “that's just a harmless little bluegill."

"There's no such thing as piranha?"

"Not within five thousand miles of here,” Jape said. He and Scrornuck were still grinning and chuckling when she shoved their heads under the water.

A little later, between bites and sips of the delicious lunch, Nalia raised a question. “In the story you told this morning, it took days to get to the moon. I thought you could just press the little button on that gizmo of yours."

Jape frowned. “I wish I could, but the Traveler can't actually move me an inch."

"It took us to another world yesterday."

"More than a world,” Jape said. “A time stream is another complete universe, with its own sun, moon and stars. The Traveler takes us from one time stream to another, but always to exactly the same place, same time, same day of the year.” He took a sip from his longneck. “In theory, the equations describe free movement in time, in space, and between time streams. In practice, we've only been able to solve two special cases: moving into the past of your own time stream, and jumping from the absolute present moment of one time stream to the absolute present moment of another while staying in the same place. When we went to that other world yesterday, we were still a few miles south of the Junction, on the afternoon of July 24. The year may be different—125 here, 2021 in that other world—but it's always the same place, the same time, the same day of the year. In all the other cases, we can't figure out what the math means."

"I can,” Scrornuck said. “It means we have to walk."

Jape nodded. “Sometimes we have to walk, and sometimes we can't go anywhere.” He consulted the device. “Right now, it can solve the equations for twenty-seven other time streams. There are more than two thousand others that just don't add up. And of those twenty-seven, only three are at the correct elevation. In the others, the ground level is anywhere from thirty to a hundred feet below where we are now—if we went to those worlds, we'd appear in thin air and fall. Not much fun unless you're into high-diving."

"Speaking of which, I see a good jumping cliff up there.” Scrornuck hoisted himself from the pool and started climbing the canyon wall.

"Wait for me!” Nalia called, scurrying up behind him.

"If you hurt yourself,” Jape warned, “I'm going to patch you up with the stuff that
really
hurts!"

"You mean there's a kind that doesn't?"

In a few minutes they reached the top and surveyed the canyon. The deep part of the middle pool, about thirty feet below, was at most eight feet across. Hitting it safely would take careful aim. “Now don't be scared...” he began.

She laughed. “Scared? My friends and I used to jump from the high cliff south of town—there was a hole about six feet across and twelve feet deep, and if you missed it you'd land in about six inches of water. Compared to that, this is easy."

He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Okay, then. Here we go!” They jumped, hitting the deep spot perfectly, with a
whump
that echoed up and down the valley. Laughing, they climbed the waterfall to join Jape in the upper pool.

"Well,” Jape said sternly, “it looks like I have two crazy people to deal with."

After lunch, they continued up the mountain, reaching a sunlit hillside punctuated by magnificent evergreens and tall columns of rock. “Let me get this straight,” Nalia said, “you think somebody built this mountain?"

Jape nodded. “I know the geology of Khansous, and there's no way a mountain should be here. This was constructed."

Scrornuck looked up toward the flat summit. “They must have used some really big earthmovers. Boy, would I like to get my hands on one of those!"

"You didn't get into enough trouble with the giant Japanese robots?"

The trail ended abruptly, at a fence with a locked gate. A sign, its paint faded but still clear, read:

Small type on the bottom of the sign listed the contractors and sub-contractors authorized to use this gate.

"Alpine Lake,” Jape said approvingly. “Looks like we're on the right path."

"Yep.” Scrornuck unslung the pack and prepared to lift it over the gate.

"Wait!” Nalia grabbed his arm. “We can't go there! It's cursed, like the guy said!” She pointed to a corner of the sign, where faded red letters warned,
NO CAST ACCESS.
Next to the warning was a UniFlag logo, featuring a large image of Spafu.

"Of all the...” Scrornuck began angrily.

Jape put a finger to his lips. “She has a point, Mister Saughblade. We are guests, and we should follow the rules.” He handed Nalia a small laminated card. “I think this gives us permission to continue."

She studied the card, turned it over and studied the other side. Then she nodded, handed the card back, and hopped gracefully over the gate. Scrornuck and Jape followed. “What the heck was that?” Scrornuck whispered as he picked up the pack. Jape handed him the card. One side was covered with fine print, while the other bore three words in large red letters:
ALL ACCESS PASS.
“This is a backstage pass from the Bruised Boogie Orchestra's farewell tour!” Scrornuck said.

Jape shrugged. “An All Access Pass is an All Access Pass."

A little further along, they came to a field of brilliant yellow flowers. “These are beautiful,” Nalia said, “and look—there's a big fruit under each one!"

Scrornuck sniffed a flower. “Smells like fish.” He broke open a fruit and sampled its soft white flesh. It tasted a bit like shrimp, a bit like crab, a bit like fish. “Vegetable sushi, anybody?” he said, offering Nalia a piece.

She made a face. “It tastes like raw fish insides? No, thanks."

"You don't know what you're missing.” He sprinkled a bit of his spice mixture on the fruit and ate a bigger piece. “Good stuff."

A shadow passed over them as a dragon, its wings bright red and easily thirty feet tip-to-tip, swooped toward the field. Skimming inches above the flowers, it extended a rear claw and in a single, fluid motion flipped a fruit into its mouth. With a regal flap of its wings, the dragon climbed, turned, and flew off to the north.

"Well, look at that,” Jape said, making a note on his scroll. “A field of dragon food!"

"Dragons eat fruit?” Nalia asked. “I thought they ate..."

"People?” Jape said. “That's just a myth. That dragon could never lift a person, let alone carry him off and eat him. You could practically see through its wings, and I'll bet the bones are so thin you could break them with your bare hands. The dragons are harmless, just a part of the scenery."

She looked at Scrornuck accusingly. “You said..."

He shrugged. “The villagers told me the dragon carried off their maidens."

"They might have been exaggerating,” Jape said. “You didn't actually see it pick anyone up, did you?"

Scrornuck shook his head. He'd barely seen the dragon, just felt the wind and smelled the stink—the stink? “C'mon, let's get out of here!” he said, hustling Jape and Nalia away from the flower field.

"What's the rush?” she demanded.

"You'll find out if the wind shifts. Last time I met up with a dragon, the thing stank like the outhouse at a chili cook-off!"

They left the field of dragon fruit and began working their way up a ridge of dark red stone that ran from the plains below to the mountain's flat top. “Phew,” Nalia said, wiping sweat from her brow. “It's getting hot out here."

"Not for long,” Scrornuck said as he reached the crest of the ridge. A second ridge, several hundred feet away, paralleled the one on which they stood. In between lay a shallow valley filled with smooth white snow.

"Winter sports area, indeed,” Jape said, gazing into the valley. “Look up there.” He pointed to the top of the slope, where powdery snow swirled around a complex of boxy gray buildings. “They must run refrigerated air down this valley. A ski slope that's open in summer? Talk about thinking big!"

Scrornuck set down the pack and pulled out his plaid blanket. “It'll be cold down there,” he said, draping it over Nalia's shoulders like a simple robe. “You'll want this."

"We're going to cross the snow?” Her voice carried equal parts of nervousness and anticipation.