“Fun and games are over. I’ve got you and you better start fixing things or I’m going to blow your head off.”
Frank felt something on his arm, and it finally registered that Rita was trying to get him to let Ralph go.
Ralph looked very afraid.
“Let him go, Frank, he’s not the bad guy,” Rita said.
Frank looked at Rita. She looked healthy, with no sign of bruises or broken bones. He let go of Ralph and stepped back.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Frank asked.
Rita came up to him and patted his arm soothingly.
He allowed her to guide him to put his gun away. He found it strangely calming, and the adrenaline slipped away.
“I’m fine, Frank. I mean aside from being here. Ralph has been trying to help me get home,” Rita said.
Frank didn’t know what to say. All his fears that Rita had been hurt flowed out of him. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but he took Rita into his arms and hugged her tight. He held her for several minutes, taking in her warmth, her scent, and the comforting way she patted his back.
Ralph had managed to close the door and get it to latch. Rita led Frank to a chair, and the three sat around a knife-scarred wood table.
“The short version is I was walking into your office,” said Rita, “And then I was here. I didn’t know what had happened so I stuck close to this place. A few other things appeared out of nowhere, but after a few hours Ralph and a centaur appeared. They were fighting, and I stayed out of the way until the centaur threw Ralph against the wall.”
“That was Gerold,” said Ralph.
“I remember him,” said Frank. “I found you by tracking him down. But that doesn’t explain what is going on.”
“I still don’t remember anything from before that morning I met you,” Ralph said. “After he threw me against the wall, Gerold found his amulet on the floor and put it on. He twisted something on it, and he transformed into a two-legged human again.”
“Frank, he just laughed at us and said we weren’t important enough to deal with,” said Rita. “But he said he’d help me get home if I paid him enough.”
“Let me guess, a price so high you’ll never come up with the money,” said Frank.
“Exactly. We’ve been trying, but no matter how much we give him he demands more.”
When they asked how he came to be there, Frank related the push of a button in the morgue followed by his cross-country journey. “The one thing I’ve been able to piece together is Gerold is leading a double life. He is a centaur highwayman as well as a respected human businessman. I just can’t figure out what his angle is and why he moves between here and Denver.”
“Could it be for the same reason as in our world? Why does someone have businesses in two countries?” said Rita.
“Well, if you rule out the honest reasons, could it be drugs or money laundering,” said Frank.
Frank looked at Rita and saw her face light up at the same time as his when the spoken thought sunk in. “That’s it,” said Frank, slapping the table with the palm of his hand. “Gerold robs coaches and transports the gold and jewels to Denver, where he converts it to cash and lives the good life. I’ll bet he uses some of it to purchase cheap mass-produced crap, transports it back here where it passes as fine handmade products for which he charges a premium.”
“So he can live in style here without any trace of the stolen money,” said Rita.
“But how does he move between places?” asked Ralph.
“With this,” said Frank as he pulled the pieces of the remote from his pocket.
“Maybe we can find a wizard who knows how it works and can fix it,” said Ralph as he fingered the pieces on the table.
Frank nodded in agreement. “Good idea, but first lets see if we can take down Gerold. Otherwise, even if we get home he’s going to remain a problem.”
The three swapped ideas for several hours until they had a workable plan. Despite the hard floor he had to sleep on, Frank slept better than he had since he arrived. He smiled as he thought of Rita and slipped off to sleep.
The next morning Frank went to the Sherriff’s office.
He laid out his plan for catching the highwayman Gerold. The Sherriff wasn’t sure it would work, but the city merchants were clamoring for him to do something.
He finally agreed to try Frank’s plan but warned him of the consequences if he was up to no good.
Later that night Ralph returned from Gerold’s.
“Were you able to get him to believe the story?”
Rita asked.
“I think so,” said Ralph. “I acted like I had information to sell him. He said he couldn’t buy it unless he knew what it was worth. I allowed myself to be duped into telling Gerold about the gold shipment.”
“Do you think he bought it?” asked Frank.
“I think so. Especially after I told him about the Sherriff.”
“What?” said Frank and Rita at the same time.
“Sure, just in case he has informants. I told him the Sherriff was telling everyone it was only his men and no gold in the wagon, to fool Gerold and capture him. Now if he does have informants, and that’s what they tell him, he’ll think he’s ahead of the game.”
* * *
Frank felt every rut in the road for the last five miles. He was crammed into a windowless wagon with several others, breathing dank air and waiting for Gerold to make a move. Frank swayed forward as the wagon slowed to a stop. Gerold had fallen for their trap.
When the back doors were pulled open, Frank, Ralph and two of the Sherriff’s men pushed forward, knocking two of the bandits to the ground. Frank spotted Gerold standing between two other henchmen, his crossbow aimed at the driver.
Frank pointed his pistol at Gerold. “Drop it.”
Frank could see the odd looks from the others, but he also saw fear in Gerold’s eyes. Gerold knew what Frank held even if the others didn’t. The crossbow fell to the ground, and the other bandits dropped theirs as well.
The road was wide enough for two wagons to pass each other. On either side the tree-covered land sloped up. Frank could see why Gerold picked the location. He could watch from a good vantage point, hide until the last minute, and maneuver around all sides of the wagon.
Ralph sneezed. Frank’s gun disappeared. Ralph sneezed again. A dozen chickens appeared on the ground in front of Frank.
The others stared in amazement at the clucking chickens, but Frank moved. He had to stop Gerold before he could recover his crossbow. Leaping onto Gerold’s back, Frank tried to get Gerold into a choke hold.
Frank held on as Gerold whipped his body around, trying to buck him off. Frank’s punches didn’t seem to hurt Gerold. Frank had the same problem when he tried a choke hold. Gerold spun and Frank almost fell.
Frank grabbed for anything to keep from falling off Gerold. His hand found Gerold’s medallion chain. He pulled it and hoped the chain would choke Gerold.
The medallion wasn’t solid, and when Frank grabbed it, a piece spun in his hand. Suddenly he was lying on top of a human Gerold struggling for air.
“Quick, bind him before he can change back,” said Frank.
The other bandits had been captured, and now the Sherriff’s men tied strong cords around Gerold. The Sherriff rode out of the trees having seen the last of the fight.
“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. Such a devious person will surely be locked away for many years,” the Sherriff said.
* * *
A few hours later Frank, Rita, and Ralph were outside the door of a wizard the Sherriff had assured them could send them home. The stone house was in the middle of a large lot in one of the more upscale neighborhoods.
With Gerold and his gang locked in jail, Frank couldn’t wait to get back to Denver. He knocked on the door.
When the door opened, a tall middle-aged man in a long robe stood in the door. He looked different from how Frank expected a wizard to look. He di
dn’t have a pointy hat with lots of stars. He didn’t have a long gray beard. He wasn’t carrying a staff. But he did have a puzzled expression on his face.
“Grisibald, where have you been?” the wizard said to Ralph.
* * *
Frank put his car into park and sipped his coffee while the song on the radio finished. A hot shower and a good night sleep in his own bed had gone a long way to restoring his faith in the world.
The wizard had returned Rita and him to their own world the day before. Ralph turned out to be his assistant, who had been missing for a couple of weeks. The wizard was the one who recharged the magic in Gerold’s remote, but he didn’t know what he used it for.
Ralph had delivered it and accidentally pressed the button while handing it to Gerold. Once in Denver, Gerold had knocked Ralph out and set him up to be locked away for a long time.
Frank reluctantly headed into his office. He was sure he had several irate clients that he’d have to deal with because of his absence.
Rita was at her desk when he opened the door.
Frank smiled when he saw her.
“Good morning, Rita,” said Frank. “I’m sure I’ve got a stack of messages to deal with.”
“Yes,” said Rita. She rose from her desk and motioned for Frank to follow her. “But we’ve got a bigger problem resolve first.”
Rita led Frank down the hall to the extra office they used for storage. The door was open and inside Frank saw Ralph, sitting at a desk.
“Ralph, what are you doing here?” Frank asked.
“I’m setting up my desk. I’m going to work for you,” Ralph said.
“What are you talking about? You’re cured. You can go back to your world and your old job,” said Frank.
“Naw, that’s not for me anymore. I want to work for you and catch bad guys,” said Ralph.
“But Ralph, that’s not going to work,” said Frank.
“Sure it is,” said Ralph. “Word got around fast about how you captured Gerold. There’s lots of people back in Fips who want to hire us. Frank started to protest again, but Ralph cut him off. “Don’t worry,” Ralph said as he patted his pocket.
“I’ve got my frog pills. They keep my allergies in check.”
Frank sat in the extra chair. He felt his sanity shift to the back seat as it sank in that his life would never be the same again.
THE FLOOD WAS FIXED
Eric Flint
“STILL sore about Job, huh?” snickered Baalzebub.
The Prince of Darkness took a swipe at the archdevil with his tail, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“It was a fluke,” he grumbled. “A statistical freak. So what if God found one faithful man in a sea of sinners? I should have played the odds.”
“How?”
“I should have bet Him on the whole lousy human race.”
Baalzebub shook his head. “God never would have gone for it. Too much work, visiting personal suffering on all those people. He’s lazy, when you get right down to it. Worked six lousy days and thinks He ought to be able to lounge around the rest of eternity. Coupon clipper. We proletarian types down here never get a day off.”
Satan glowered about the stygian gloom of Hell.
He’d gotten tired of Dante’s Renaissance decor lately, so he’d gone back to Classic. Even the reek of brimstone and the screams of tortured sinners didn’t cheer him up.
“I know, I know. That’s why I agreed to bet on Job. I got taken to the cleaners.”
Baalzebub hesitated. Not for the first time, the thought crossed his mind that being chief adviser to the Lord of Evil was not without its drawbacks.
“Maybe you should quit gambling with—”
He ducked Satan’s pitchfork and dived behind a smoldering rock.
“He’s God, dammit! You can’t win. The house odds will get you every time.”
But Satan wasn’t willing to listen to reason. He never was, which (when you get right down to it) is why he’s the Prince of Darkness instead of the Lord of Light.
“There’s gotta be a way to beat Him,” he snarled, after resuming his seat. “All I’ve got to do is figure out a way to get Him to bet on the whole miserable human race.”
He cackled, rubbing his taloned paws. “Any bet on the whole bunch, I’m bound to win!”
Deciding it was safe, Baalzebub resumed his seat.
“Yeah, sure, no question about it. But it’s like I said—He’s a cloud potato. Hates to work up a sweat.”
Satan slouched and stared at his cloven hooves gloomily. Suddenly, he sat up straight.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it! I’ll bet Him the human race will lose its faith in Creation!”
“Huh?”
“Don’t you see? He’s got such a swelled head over that Genesis business that he won’t be able to resist.”
Baalzebub scratched his horns.
“I still don’t get it. Of course He’ll bet on it. Why shouldn’t He? He’s bound to win. I mean, look at the thing!”
And so saying, Baalzebub exerted his archdevilish powers and brought before the superhuman vision of the Lord of Flies the entire vista of Creation, in all its glory and splendor.
“You see what I mean? Even creatures as stupid as humans aren’t going to doubt for a minute that something this grand was created by a Creator. How else could it have come to be? Even a moron examining a watch is going to figure out that it took a watchmaker to—”
“Will you shut up about the stupid watch? I’m sick of hearing it!”
Satan hawked up a lunger and spit on a nearby sinner. A bit mollified, he watched the damned one’s flesh boil away.
“I’ve already figured it out,” he announced firmly.
“All you have to do is provide humans with an alternate explanation, and they’ll jump at it.”
Baalzebub frowned with puzzlement. “What alternative explanation?”
Satan spread his arms in a grand gesture. “Evolution, that’s what!”
“Huh? What’s ‘evolution’?”
So the Prince of Darkness explained to his chief archdevil the entire theory of evolution, which he had just thought up on the spot. (He’s evil, but he’s not stupid.)
He explained mutations and natural selection and particulate inheritance and the double helix, and all the rest of it. By the time he was finished, Baalzebub was rolling on the ground, roaring with laughter.
“That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard!” he gasped. “Not even humans would fall for it.”
Satan grinned. “They will if there’s a shred of evidence.”
“But there isn’t any.”
“There will be, once God makes it. It won’t be hard for Him, either, so He won’t be able to wriggle out of the bet. He’s already made the universe, hasn’t He? All He’s got to do is fiddle with a few details. Throw in some old bones, things like that.”
Baalzebub pondered his master’s words. “You know, you just might be onto something here,” he mused. Then he shook his head firmly.
“No, no. I go back to what I said earlier—there’s no percentage is betting against the Almighty. He’ll figure some way to welsh on the bet, no matter what happens.”
But Satan was set on his course. Straight away he ascended to the heavens and bellowed for God to show His face. After the Lord of Creation manifested Himself, the Prince of Darkness explained the proposition.
God accepted the wager immediately. (He’s not at all indecisive.)
ONCE A CHUMP, ALWAYS A CHUMP. WHEN ARE YOU EVER GOING TO LEARN, YOU PIPSQUEAK?
Instantly God set about creating the evidence of evolution. He caused great fossils to come into being deep in the bowels of the earth. He created DNA, RNA, the works. He created radioactivity and then changed the laws of nature so that radioactive materials would decay at a precise rate. Because He’s a sporting kind of Guy, He even made some peas smooth and some peas wrinkled, so that human dumbbells could figure out genetics.
When He was finished,
he showed His work to Satan.
GOOD ENOUGH?
Satan examined the evidence and announced that he was satisfied.
“Once humans get a load of this stuff, they’ll dump the Genesis story in a fast minute,” he chortled. “Give humans a choice between musty old legends and the evidence in front of their own eyes, they’ll trust their senses every time. Idiots.”
NOT AFTER THEY SEE THE COUNTER-EVIDENCE.
“What counter-evidence?” demanded the Devil. “There wasn’t anything in our bet about counterevidence!”
SURE THERE IS. WE’RE BETTING HUMAN REASON VERSUS FAITH IN THE BIBLE, AM I RIGHT?
Satan scowled. He could smell a rat, but he wasn’t sure just where it was.
“Well, yeah,” he admitted.
ALL RIGHT, THEN! YOU EVER HEAR OF THE FLOOD?
Satan waved his hand dismissively. “That was just a heavy rainfall.” He snickered. “It only happened because you forgot to turn off the water.”
God glowered, but He forebore comment. The truth is, He couldn’t deny it. He’d gotten preoccupied with the creation of the Andromeda Nebula and had let the rain go on a wee bit longer than He’d intended.
But His reply was dignified, as you might expect.
NOT AFTER I REDO IT. THIS TIME I’M GOING TO DO IT UP GRAND.
And, it goes without saying, God was as good as His Word. He rolled history back a few generations to the time of Noah. (God is not limited by the Arrow of Time. As a mere human, you won’t be able to understand how this works. That’s why He’s God and you’re not.)
NOAH.
Noah scrambled to his feet. At his urgent gesture, his three sons stood to attention. Well, Shem and Japheth did, anyway. As usual, Ham slouched.
“Yes, Sir!”
DO YOU REMEMBER THAT HEAVY RAIN A FEW WEEKS BACK?
“Sure do, Chief. What a doozy! For a while there, I thought we were all going to drown. Heh, heh, heh.”
IS THAT LEVITY, NOAH?
“No, Sir! No, Sir!”
I TRUST NOT. IN ANY EVENT, I’VE DECIDED TO REDO THE RAIN. WE NEED A MONSTROUS FLOOD, YOU SEE. DROWN EVERYTHING THAT MOVES ON LAND. EXCEPT YOU.
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