The Prophecy Machine (Investments)

by Neal Barrett Jr

  “You seem to have a problem, sir. I've noticed that before.”

  He knew he ought to stop right there, but the words came all the same. “Especially, I recall, if they're young and unarmed.”

  “That little pup on the ship?” Sabatino showed no offense at all, beyond a nasty smile. “You do have the stomach to bring it up. Hurrah for you. Don't waste your time goading me tonight, Finn. I'll run a blade through your low-born heart at first light.”

  Sabatino glanced at his father, who'd gone to sleep on the floor.

  “Now isn't that a lovely sight? Damn me if I believe I was sired by an ugly brute like that. Squeen William! Get your disgusting hide over here and get my loving daddy into bed. If you can't lift him, drag him in a corner somewhere. All right, craftsman, what are you staring at?”

  “An empty spot where a very old lunatic was lying just now.”

  “Really?” Sabatino's smile faded. “I urge you to return to your room, and your very charming friend. You and I have a quarrel to settle soon. I feel I'm safe in saying this is your very last chance to get a good night's sleep …”

  FINN WAS READY TO DROP. THE INSANITIES OF THE day in this land clearly didn't lessen with the night. His body ached for sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. Letitia, as easily as ever, dropped off as soon as the furor was over in the hall. He wondered if he resented her for that. Decided he shouldn't, and admitted that he did.

  The storm had moved away, and morning was very near. The false light of dawn did little to enhance the dreary appearance of the room. Everything in this grim pile of crooked walls and floors, angles, tangles and impossible doors, stairs that went this way and that, looked better in the night.

  “You're fortunate you don't need sleep,” he said. “You might at least thank me for that.”

  Julia Jessica Slagg was still indistinct across the room, but her red eyes pierced the dim light.

  “Thank you for that. Anything else?”

  “Courtesy wouldn't hurt. You're a little short of that.”

  “I'm short of a lot of things, Finn. See, I didn't make a lizard, you did. What you put in comes out. I'm whatever you tinkered together, I thought you knew that.”

  “Don't start on me, it's been a hard day.”

  “And in case you're asking, which you will, I didn't come to your aid, but you seemed to have the problem well in hand.”

  “I didn't ask, all right?”

  Through the fly-specked window, the first sign of day appeared above low clouds to the east. The sun, when it arrived, looked as reluctant to get on with matters as Finn. A pale and runny yellow flecked with rusty spots of red, it looked like a very sad egg left in the skillet overnight.

  Still, Finn thought, he shouldn't complain, for the day brought release from Sabatino and his father, from the Hatters and the Hooters, from Squeen and the Foxers, and old men foaming at the mouth. Soon, he and Letitia and Julia would all be back on the Madeline Rose, and on their way again.

  Finn turned over, bleary-eyed and hungry, watching his love stir under the ragged sheet. He wished it was a week or two from now. That he and Letitia were somewhere else, in some other bed, engaged in quite another pastime …

  Awake, but in a stupor common to the weary and the dead, he sat up with a start at the gentle rapping on his door. Setting his feet on the floor, he padded across the room to open the portal, and found Squeen William standing there.

  “All right, what is it, what's the problem now?”

  “Massster Sssabatino sssay you bees comin' down now. He bees waitin' outssside.”

  “Outside.” Finn blinked. “What's he doing out there?”

  “Ssssay you comin' outssside.”

  “You said that. Please don't say it again. Tell him I'll bees—tell him I'm coming outside, on my way out. Tell him I'll wave goodbye.”

  “Masster, he sssays—”

  Finn slammed the door. Letitia groaned but didn't wake up.

  “Get her up, make her dress,” Finn said. “Tell her I'll be right back, we're getting out of here.”

  Julia flicked her tail. “I don't much like to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Get Letitia up. She tends to call me names.”

  “Well, I'm terribly sorry. Try to live with that.”

  “Easy for you to say—” Julia began, then Finn was out the door.

  The house was still musty, and still leaned to the south and to the west. The downstairs still reeked of fish from the bleary night before. The heat outside was awesome. It nearly brought Finn to his knees. He thought about the ship, and recalled how stifling it could get down below.

  There ought to be a way to get air down there, he thought, to give people half a chance to breathe. He'd worked out a method of heating up a room, giving a boost to a fireplace or a stove. The Lizard Blower worked extremely well. But those enormous bellow jaws snapping open, snapping shut, frightened little children and it didn't sell at all. If you could reverse that process, suck cool air to a cabin, instead of blowing hot air out. Of course, such a lizard would be rather long …

  “Having a little nap, are we? Lots of holes about, I'd take care if I were you.”

  Finn snapped back into place, wondering exactly where he'd been. Sabatino was leaning against his house. Or, possibly, the house was leaning on him.

  “I didn't sleep well,” Finn said, making no effort to hide his ire. “Frankly, sir, your house is the worst place I've ever spent the night.”

  “I regret the disturbance. Don't know how those cunning little bastards got in. I've set traps everywhere.”

  “Cunning little bastards indeed. And a crazy old man.”

  “Which one? I hope you don't mean Father. I'd have to take exception to that. Never mind,” he said, waving his words aside, “I didn't call you down here to talk about my personal affairs. I'm afraid I've got a bit of bad news.”

  “About what?” Finn took note of another unusual manner of dress. Knickers in a pale and sickly pink, a vest the color of soup, one red boot and one blue, and a lilac plumed hat. It annoyed Finn to no end that the man looked as if he'd had a good night's sleep.

  “It's about the duel,” Sabatino said. “I'm afraid that's off. At least for the time.”

  “Some days nothing goes right,” Finn said. He didn't mention that the duel had slipped his mind in light of everything else. “I'm disappointed, of course, but we'll try some other time.”

  Sabatino kicked a stray brick aside. “That's awfully good of you. I don't think I'd have handled it as well. I feel you're a foolish, impertinent oaf, with uppity notions in your head. I'd like nothing better than to cut you down to size. I believe if your lovely—companion, as it were, could watch you cower and bleed, she'd come to her senses and notice there's a real man around. I think you might have her in a spell. Even a craftsman, these days, can buy a little magic on the street somewhere …”

  “Now look here, fellow—”

  “No, you look.” Sabatino poked a finger in the air. “Allow me to finish, you've gotten me off the track. Calling off the duel is not my idea. Father asked me to, and though I can't abide the old fart, I'm obliged to humor his request.”

  Sabatino waved a hand across his face as if to banish some quite offensive smell.

  “The thing is, he's somewhat impressed with that clever device of yours. I believe he mentioned he fancies he's an inventor of sorts himself. He's mad, of course, but that's beside the point. He's got this thing of his going, and he'd like you to help.”

  Finn stared, trying not to laugh or throw up. “What on earth are you talking about? I wouldn't stay in this place another minute, even if you and your father were afire. I'd piss on the ground before I'd put either one of you out. Letitia and I will be out of here and gone, racing for our ship before you can blink.”

  “Well, that's the point, you see.” Sabatino yawned, picked something off his vest, and flicked it to the ground. “I'm loathe to say it, but you really have no choice. I fear you'll
have to stay.”

  “What? What are you talking about? Damn it all, Sabatino—”

  “Yes, well you see, the ship's gone. It sailed well before first light.”

  “No, I don't believe that, you arrogant lout. It's another stupid lie.” Finn felt something cold and heavy turn over in his gut. “The captain is obligated to wait for his passengers. It's a—law of the sea, or something, I'm certain of that.”

  “It is, actually,” Sabatino said, “but Magreet is a scoundrel, I don't have to tell you that. He came very cheap, as most of them do. Walked down there in the middle of the night, Hooters all about. Fellow took my first offer like that.

  “I'm truly sorry, Finn, but one must respect one's father, even if he's a sack of fecal matter, and totally bonkers as well …”

  “PLEASE TELL ME THIS ISN' THAPPENING, FINN. Tell me it's certainly not happening to me. Tell me I'm back in Garpenny Street in my very own home, and I'm having a really bad dream.”

  “I wish I could say that, love. I wish I could make this all go away.”

  Finn stood at the window staring out at the hot and dreary day. “I feel as if it's somehow my fault, that I, and I alone, have gotten you into this terrible mess.”

  “That's the way I feel, too.”

  “What, my dear?”

  “That it's all your fault. That you got me into this mess. And don't call me ‘dear’ or ‘love’ or any other term of affection. If you do, I think I'll get sick. I have never been so frightened, so angry, so completely undone, except when old Miz Griller put Mama in a hex and she wasn't acting right for some time. Why couldn't we just go to the mountains like everyone else? Why did we have to get a boat and come here, will you explain that?

  “No, don't. Don't even try. Miz Elaina Bloc, who's married to Ollie, who runs the Sweet Store? They had a perfectly lovely time in the mountains. They saw a cave and a little waterfall. Elaina even bought a pot from ancient times.

  “Finn, if I don't get something to eat I'm going to die right here, are you aware of that? Do you even care?”

  Finn turned to face her, partially appalled. “How can you even think such a thing, much less say it aloud?”

  “It's easy, I'm sorry to say. I hope, for your sake and mine, I feel different sometime. But that's how I'm feeling now.”

  He thought his heart would break. He didn't know what to do next. He wanted to hold her, but he knew this was not the time for that. She looked so lovely, so delicate and fine, perched cross-legged on the bed, totally bare and sleepy-eyed, unaware of how the sight of her filled him with love, with overwhelming desire. The morning sun painted her downy skin, the colors muted by the window's dirty glass and a veil of spiderwebs.

  “I'm going right now,” Finn told her. “I'll get you something to eat if I have to flatten Squeen William and fix it myself. If there's nothing edible here, I'll—go and find something in town.”

  “No. No you won't.” Letitia sat up straight. “You think I'm going to sit here and let something awful come up those stairs the minute you're out of sight? I'm bedamned if I will. Just get that out of your head.”

  “Yes, but—”

  Letitia was up in an instant, slipping into the garments she'd worn from the ship, which looked as if they'd been wadded up in a ball somewhere.

  Finn was startled and alarmed, and though he thought it most peculiar, quite charmed at the sudden, fierce resolution in the wife he thought he knew. She was fury un-chained, and he was certain he could live with that. He was also certain if she guessed his thoughts then, he'd wish they'd never popped into his head.

  Finn blinked as a blurry flash of lizard darted across the floor and vanished beneath the bed.

  “Get out of there,” he said. “We're all going down for breakfast. Nobody's staying up here.”

  “If you're mad at me, Finn, it'll just have to be,” Letitia said, patting down her frizzled hair. “That's the way I am right now.”

  “What?” Finn tried to look terribly pained. “I'm not mad at you, Letitia. You must know I could never do that …”

  “I dearly love the morning,” Calabus said, spraying bits of breakfast through his beard. “There's something about a new day dawning, like the world's starting over, fresh and pure again—Brruuch! Sorry, miss. I expect you've heard a man belch before, it's quite a common event. May I say, you're looking most comely, my dear?”

  The old man reached over and patted her hand. Letitia drew it quickly away.

  “No offense, now. A compliment's what it is, nothing more than that.”

  Calabus winked at Finn as if they shared some base and lecherous thought. Finn didn't bother to complain. There was clearly no way to stop the man. He'd say what he liked, whatever popped into his head. This morning, he was wearing a shabby robe. Food from meals past formed a crusty path down the front. As ever, he didn't seem to care.

  Breakfast was a horror. Deep-fried turnips. Turnip bread. Some kind of jelly, possibly made of dirt. Something hot and gray in a cup. Finn wouldn't drink it on a bet. Nucci and son seemed to like the stuff quite a bit. Finn took a bite of this and that. Letitia ate everything she could, and finished off Finn's plate as well. Finn tried not to think of Squeen William, who had fixed all this with his damp and furry hands. He wondered what the kitchen looked like, and pushed the thought quickly aside.

  “I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you are my guest, Master Finn. That contraption of yours is a wonder, a fine mechanical feat. You simply must take it apart and show me how it works.”

  Julia gave a frightful croak, and dug her iron claws in Finn's back.

  Calabus laughed, and pounded the table with his fist. “By damn, the little bugger understands me, does it not? How on earth did you manage that?”

  He leaned in closer, bread crumbs drifting like snow from his beard. “What you got in its head, little wheels and such? A little magic too, I'd guess. I'm a fair crafter myself, but I couldn't do that.”

  “It knows a few elementary words,” Finn said, “nothing more than that.”

  “A great deal more than that,” Sabatino said, raising a wicked brow. It was the first time he'd spoken. He had spent his time leering at Letitia, taking some perverted form of pleasure watching her eat. He was dressed in slightly better fashion than his father, clad in faded lilac from head to toe.

  “You forget, Finn, that we shared a great adventure yesterday. Your lizard is quite extraordinary, in a number of ways.”

  “My invention, now,” Calabus put in, waving his son aside, “is most unusual as well, if I do say so myself. What I have not accomplished, sir, is cramming so much complexity into such a tiny space. I fear that damned thing of mine simply gets bigger. I cannot contain it. It sprawls all over the place.”

  “That's a bloody understatement,” Sabatino muttered to himself.

  “You think I didn't hear that?” Calabus clenched his fists and glared. “You think I'm deaf? What have you done with your miserable life, boy, except go through my money like soup through a sieve? That, and father every squealing mutt in town. At least I've accomplished something. I've given something back to the world!”

  “A pile of crap clogging up the cellar. The world's got plenty of that …”

  Finn looked at Calabus with alarm. The old man's face was purple as a grape. His eyes began to bulge, and Finn feared they might pop out and severely injure someone. Even Letitia was stunned by the sight, and stopped eating long enough to watch.

  Half a second shy of a stroke, Calabus' features faded to a splotched and dissipated red. Moments later, his wits slipped back in place.

  “You will, I hope, accept my son's apology for his behavior. It shames me to say he's my own flesh and blood, this vile, repulsive excuse for a man.”

  “I think I resent that, Father.” Sabatino picked up his plate and dashed it to the floor. “That is a hurtful thing to say, and quite unfair. I fear I must demand satisfaction, unless you take your words back.”

  Finn couldn't help i
t. He burst out laughing, which drew a startled glance from Letitia, and angered Sabatino all the more.

  “Are you challenging your own father to a duel? Is that what I heard you say?” Finn covered his mouth in an effort to restrain himself. “I thought you a blustering fool, but I fear I am way off the mark. You're clearly a flaming lunatic! Great Tails and Snails, man, you ought to be locked up somewhere …”

  Sabatino sprang out of his chair. Before Finn could blink, the man was on the table coming at him on all fours, scattering dishes, saucers and cups. Spoons without handles, knives without blades. Platters and handicapped forks. Letitia cried out, ducking turnips and flying bits of bread.

  Finn scarcely had time to bring up his arms and fend the man off before Sabatino's big hands closed about his throat.

  Finn's chair collapsed, shattered into scrap. Finn hit the floor, flat on his back. Sabatino held on like a vise. Finn pounded the fellow's face, struck him on the nose, hit him in the mouth. Even in the fury of battle, he noticed Sabatino had a missing upper molar, and extremely bad breath.

  Sabatino cursed him, howled like a loon, pummeled his head against the floor. Finn began to see stars. Not simply stars, but whole constellations. The Chicken, the Wand, the Three-Legged Witch. He had never been able to spot the other leg, but he saw it clearly now.

  Letitia broke a plate over Sabatino's head. The plate, from three different races, blue and green and red, could never be mended again. Sabatino hardly noticed. Julia bit him on the foot, but he didn't seem to feel that.

  Suddenly, his face disappeared behind short stubby wings, wings that were furry, scabby and black. Squeen William lifted his master off the floor, carried him off, and set him gently in his seat.

  Finn came shakily to his feet. Letitia gave him a glass of turnip wine. Finn drank another glass as well, before he remembered he couldn't stand the stuff.

  “That doesn't count as a fight,” Sabatino said. “Closer to a scrap. Don't imagine I'm through with you yet …”