Castle Kidnapped c-3

by John Dechancie

  In the intervening instant, Snowy’s hand had turned human again, the fur and claws gone. His face felt smooth.

  “What the hell’s going on?” the kid said. “Did you — did you just —?”

  “What’s that you say?”

  The kid focused his stare on the road, his face set grimly.

  “Nothin’,” the kid said. “Forget it.” He opened his own window and threw out the butt of the joint he’d been sucking on. “Forget that shit, too.”

  Great White Stuff, Snowy thought. This is going to be a long trip.

  Twenty-five

  Castle

  Jeremy didn’t know what he was crouching on — it could have been floor, wall, or ceiling. He couldn’t tell. Things had gotten to the point where it didn’t matter. Everything was crazy, everything was totally out to lunch.

  He had lost sight of Linda, although he could still hear her. She was off somewhere to the left, as far as he could tell, lost in a nightmare of bulging walls and constricted passageways.

  Linda called his name, and he answered.

  “Are you all right?” she yelled back.

  “Uh … yeah! Well, not really.”

  “Hang on, I’m going to try getting to you.”

  After a minute or so she appeared, sticking her head out of a small tunnel about ten feet above Jeremy’s head.

  “There you are,” she said. “It seems to be quieting down a little.”

  “Yeah.”

  As if in defiance, things began to shift again, Linda’s tunnel sliding off to the right somewhat.

  “Whoa!”

  The slab of stone under Jeremy began to tilt. He reached for the computer but it slipped away.

  “Shit!” He lunged after it and slid to a level spot. Fishing the computer out of a trough in the “floor,” he checked it for damage.

  “Your computer’s beeping again,” Linda said.

  “Yeah, I know.” Jeremy flipped up the readout screen.

  REALITY PROCESSING? CAN DO.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Jeremy asked of no one in particular.

  “What does what mean?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that this thing has gone bat shit, too.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, it’s in WordStar — it gets it out of ROM — and it’s telling me it can do ‘REALITY PROCESSING.’ Whatever the hell that is.”

  “Sounds like we could use some of that.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know, this is really —” Jeremy typed out a query.

  WHO ARE YOU?

  Came the answer: YOUR COMPUTER, DUMMY.

  “Holy shit. This thing is alive.”

  “Great,” Linda said. “Ask it what we ought to do.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  WHAT SHOULD WE DO? Jeremy keyed.

  WELL, NOW, HAVEN’T I JUST MADE A SUGGESTION?

  WHAT WAS THAT? Jeremy replied.

  WE CAN REPROCESS THE IMMEDIATE ENVIRONMENT AND ACHIEVE TEMPORARY STABILITY.

  Jeremy typed, OKAY. RUN THE PROGRAM.

  PRESS RETURN, the computer directed.

  Jeremy did.

  Things got blurry, and Jeremy thought he might be passing out. But the computer wasn’t blurry, and neither was he. He strained to see Linda, but couldn’t make her out in the wavering nonreality that surrounded him.

  Then the world refocused again, and he was squatting on a level, stationary floor. He looked up and saw Linda getting to her feet.

  Linda brushed hair from her eyes. “Whew! Whatever you did, it worked.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t do anything, though.”

  “Yes, you did. You brought that computer with you. If you hadn’t, we’d be goners.”

  Jeremy grunted. “I guess. What now?”

  They were becalmed in the eye of a strange, reality-changing hurricane. Down the hall in both directions lay chaos, the nightmare jumble that Jeremy’s computer had just set aright locally.

  “We have to get through a portal,” Linda said. “But I don’t think that’s going to be possible right now. If Sheila were here, she might be able to summon one, but maybe not, in this mess.”

  “So, what else?”

  “So, what else have you got? Look, you have the ball, Jeremy. You’re going to have to run with it.”

  “Me? What do I know about this place?”

  “Use your magic. You obviously have the right stuff. Just learn to use it, and do it quick.”

  “But …” Jeremy lifted his shoulders. “All right, but this is —”

  “Stop saying things are crazy,” Linda snapped. “Sure they’re crazy, but no crazier than the nutty world we come from. It’s just different, that’s all. You have the power to deal with it. So do deal with it.”

  “Right.” He knelt at the computer and typed.

  WHAT SHOULD I DO NOW?

  WANT SUGGESTIONS, DO YOU?

  YES, Jeremy answered.

  VERY WELL. START WALKING. REALITY STABILIZATION FIELD WILL FOLLOW.

  Linda was looking over his shoulder. “That sounds like a good idea. If we come across an area that’s supposed to have a portal, maybe it’ll be there.”

  They strolled a good distance down the hall, but no portals appeared. The jumble in both directions seemed to stay the same distance away.

  “The trouble might be affecting things,” Linda said. “Blocking off the portals, or chasing them away, I don’t know.”

  Jeremy set the computer down and queried again.

  He typed: MORE SUGGESTIONS?

  POSSIBLY FURTHER REPROCESSING NEEDED. NEED MORE RAM.

  “Damn. It’s asking for more memory space, but I don’t have it to give.”

  NO CAN DO, Jeremy said.

  CAN DUMP TO DISK. ERASE EXISTING TEXT AND BACKUP FILES?

  SURE, GO AHEAD, Jeremy answered.

  “It’s just clearing off a little disk space. There’s nothing there but junk, anyway.”

  “Wonderful. Will that help?”

  “I don’t know.”

  CONTINUE RUN? the computer asked.

  GO AHEAD.

  NEED I SAY THE OBVIOUS?

  “What? Oh, yeah.”

  Jeremy pressed the Return key.

  Nothing much happened, except that the floor, which had continued to vibrate slightly even with the stabilization spell operating, now settled down completely.

  “Even better than before,” Linda said. “But still no portal.”

  “Now what?”

  “Let’s keep moving. There’re probably people hurt. We might be able to do something.”

  The zones of instability, both forward and rear, receded as they walked.

  “Things are looking up,” Linda said.

  “It’s not my computer,” Jeremy said.

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know, somehow. But let me check.”

  Jeremy typed, PROGRAM STILL RUNNING?

  DISTURBANCE BEING AMELIORATED BY OUTSIDE INFLUENCE.

  “Yeah, it’s something else.”

  Linda emitted a little squeal. “Lord Incarnadine!”

  Jeremy looked up from the readout screen to see His Majesty emerging from a shadowy alcove.

  “Hi, Linda,” Incarnadine said.

  “Oh, are we glad to see you!” Linda said, throwing her arms around him.

  Incarnadine smiled at Jeremy over Linda’s shoulder. “Mr. Hochstader! Just the man I wanted to see.”

  “Me, sir?” Jeremy said.

  Incarnadine gave Linda a few more squeezes and let her go. “Yes, you. And you, too, Linda. I need your help.”

  “You need us?” Linda asked, astounded.

  “Sure do, to straighten out this little problem we seem to be having. You have noticed that we’re having a problem?” He glanced about. “Although things seem to be fine right here.”

  “That’s Jeremy’s doing. His magic computer.”

  “Of course! The very talent I wish to tap.”

  “I didn’t do it all,” Jeremy sai
d.

  “No, you didn’t,” Incarnadine agreed. “I have a stabilization spell of my own working. It’ll buy us time, but not much. We have about ten hours. Then the quantum uncertainties will start arriving in huge waves, and the castle will cease to exist.”

  Linda blanched. “Is it that bad?”

  “It’s that bad. But we can still save the day, if we act now. Feel in a heroic mood?”

  “Sure,” Linda said. “I guess.”

  “How’re your magical muscles? Toned up, firm? No ectoplasmic cellulite?”

  “Just feel that,” Linda told him, flexing her right biceps.

  “Nice.”

  Jeremy shook his head, confused. “Sir, what exactly is it that you want us to do?”

  “Jeremy, I need your skills as a computer programmer and operator. We’re going to run one monster of a spell, using the castle’s mainframe.”

  “A mainframe? Here? But I’ve never worked with a mainframe —”

  “I’ll train you. It will be a huge challenge, but I have every confidence in you, my boy. You have an enormous creative talent.”

  Jeremy’s throat had gone dry. He swallowed hard, then said, “Thank you, sir. I’ll … I’ll try.”

  Incarnadine laid a firm hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “I know you will.”

  Jeremy returned the King’s warm smile.

  “And I’ll need your conjuring skills, Linda.”

  “You got ’em.”

  “Good. Follow me, I know a shortcut.”

  Incarnadine led them into the alcove, where an elevator waited.

  “I’ve never been able to magic one up that worked,” Linda said admiringly. “This is great.”

  “Well, as long as you leave out most of the mechanical parts, it’s fine. This one works by levitation, no cables.”

  They boarded the elevator, and the doors closed. Magical artifact or not, the inside of the thing looked like the genuine article, panel of floor stops and all.

  But the King pressed no buttons. “Eightieth floor,” he commanded into the air.

  The elevator obeyed. It gave a slight jerk, then began to rise.

  “Good thing you hung on to that laptop of yours,” Incarnadine said. “We can use it as a dumb terminal.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Jeremy said, looking down at the Toshiba, which he cradled in his left arm. He happened to glance at the readout screen.

  It read, DUMB TERMINAL, EH? KISS MY PARALLEL PORT.

  Twenty-six

  Hills

  If only the Umoi had been a more belligerent race.

  But the Umoi had given up war centuries before their demise. Consequently, when Gene had asked Zond about weapons, Zond had trouble grasping the concept. Gene remembered the conversation.

  “Weapons,” Gene repeated. “Guns, bombs, nasty stuff like that?”

  “Well, this may sound strange, Gene, but I think we’ve hit a subject that’s in one of my interdicted files.”

  “What are those?”

  “Subject areas that may or may not contain data, but which cannot be accessed except by special permission from the Chief of Library Services.”

  “Who’s been dead for fifty centuries.”

  “Precisely.”

  “You do know generically what a weapon is, though, don’t you?”

  “Well, yes. But I’m specifically prohibited from discussing the subject, in any way, under any circumstances. The ban is very comprehensive. I couldn’t if I wanted to. Do you understand?”

  “Sure.”

  So universal was the Umoi proscription against violence, offensive or defensive, that Gene had had no recourse but to drive the rover over a cliff to escape the hundak, the six-legged bulldozer he had run into on the way to Annau. The rover had not possessed the capacity to harm a microbe, much less the hundak.

  If only the Umoi had been a tad more irascible, just a jot less peace-loving. Maybe then Gene would have been able to procure a high-tech weapon.

  “One would sure come in handy right now.”

  “Did you speak, husband?”

  Gene hadn’t realized he was thinking aloud. “It’s nothing, Vaya.”

  “You seem troubled.”

  Gene turned in his saddle and looked at the long line behind him. The whole tribe was on the move, following their Queen to a place they had never dreamed of going near, much less taking up residence in: an Umoi city. Some of the older folks had rejected the scheme out of hand and had stayed behind, preferring certain death in the desert to the condign punishment they would receive for committing unforgivable sacrilege.

  The rest of them had required some major persuading. But they had pulled up stakes and tagged along. Why so, Gene wasn’t sure.

  The whole idea had been out of the question until Vaya had her visitation. She woke up one morning with the news that one of her ancestors, a woman (naturally, as this society was an ironclad matriarchy), had dropped in by way of a dream, telling her that her First Husband, the stranger, spoke truth, and that she should order her people to move into the abode of the Old Gods.

  Whoever the old crone had been, Gene was grateful to her. He, for one, was tired of gnawing tough, charred meat and scratching at fleas. He was looking forward to sleeping in a warm bed and having a civilized meal for a change.

  He had his thoat, his Martian princess, now all he needed was one of those Thrilling Wonder Stories Art Deco futuristic cities to live in, and he’d have it all.

  That is, if Annau was still functioning.

  He still was intent on searching for the interdimensional device. He had not forgotten Castle Perilous, nor could he. He had been here in New Barsoom for about a year, close as he could reckon. It had been fun, but was wearing rather thin. He wanted to get back to Perilous. That was his home. He’d be sure to look into stabilizing this world’s portal, though. He’d want to come back now and then to see how the yalim were faring.

  He looked over at Vaya. She rode bestride and with a noble seat, erect and regal. Queenlike.

  Yes, he loved her. That was the one complication. He couldn’t leave her, and she couldn’t very well abdicate and follow him to Perilous.

  He knew he would be coming back here on a more regular basis than “now and then.”

  Could he leave her at all? He wondered.

  He was having second thoughts about Annau. It was an unknown quantity. No telling what he’d find there. He would have his hands full in any event trying to calm a mob of frightened primitives. Perhaps going back to Zond would be the best idea. Once things were running smoothly, Zond could whip up another rover for him and he could …

  No, the thought of undertaking another cross-world trek didn’t appeal to him. Too dangerous. Perhaps he should just forget about the interdimensional device altogether.

  But he couldn’t. He had to get back to Perilous, if only to let everyone know he was all right. He owed Sheila and Linda that much.

  “Do you feel them, too, husband?”

  Gene came out of his brown study. “Hm? Sorry. What did you say?”

  “Do you feel eyes crawling on your skin?”

  “Eyes crawling …? Oh.” Gene looked right and left, running his gaze along the ridges above. “Yeah, I do. Been getting a being-watched feeling for some time now. You, too?”

  “Yes.”

  Gene took a deep breath, then searched the heights once again. “Haven’t seen a thing, but I sure feel something. It’s probably just paranoia on my part, but how sure are we that there aren’t any hrunt here?”

  “Who can be sure?”

  Of course. For travel information, all the tribe had to rely on was oral tradition. Gene doubted that it would be of any value.

  “There may be yalim, however,” Vaya said.

  “Hostile?”

  “All tribes like to fight. It is the yalim nature.”

  “We don’t bother anybody,” Gene said.

  “There are not many to bother.”

  She was right. The yalim were dying out.
/>
  Gene said, “Well, anyway, I’m not concerned about yalim. If we can beat the hrunt, we shouldn’t let a few bandits worry us.”

  “The sun creeps low,” Vaya said. “Soon it will seek its burrow in the earth.”

  “Yeah. Nice metaphor, there. You want to make camp, my Queen?”

  “You pick the site, husband.”

  “Right. Well, I don’t like being at the bottom of these cliffs, but I don’t see any way to get up into them. This wide area coming up is as good a place as any.”

  “Then that is where we shall make trail camp.”

  “Yeah. The Sheraton is booked solid, I hear.”

  That night, Gene had trouble sleeping. He got up and walked the camp’s perimeter several times, but saw nothing but desert darkness and one dozing guard. He had the guard flogged, then returned to the royal tent.

  “You rest uneasy, husband.”

  “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

  “No. Come close.”

  They embraced. Outside, the sound of a drear wind masked a greater silence. Gene drew the bedclothes up.

  “It’s cold out there.”

  “You are warm, my husband.”

  “I just got hotter, Queenie.”

  “Make another child in me.”

  “Yeah, that’d be … Another?”

  “The first one will come in eight cycles of the Night Watcher.”

  “Uh.”

  “Are you not proud?”

  “Uh.”

  “I am sure it is yours. I have forsaken the others.”

  “This is kind of new to me. Never thought I’d be a father.”

  “She will be the next Queen.”

  “Oh. You’re sure about that, are you?”

  “Yes. The Ancestor told me.”

  “Did a sonogram, no doubt.”

  “You speak strangely again. Sometimes I think that you are one of the Old Ones, come to lead us to the Castle of the Gods.”

  Passion suddenly leaving him, Gene rolled over on his back. “This is very interesting. Tell me more.”

  “The old legends say that the gods live in a great fortress of stone, far away. One day the gods will return and take all the yalim away to live there. There will be happiness forever.”

  Gene put his hands behind his head and stared off into darkness. “Fascinating, Captain. The natives seemed to have developed a strangely prescient mythology.”