The Dastard (17 page)

“Maybe you can,” Sim peeped. “The princesses have very special magic, if it works here.”

“It does work here,” Green said. “But as far as we know, no magic can enable a person to travel beyond her lifetime.”

“If we sing and play it real, we might do it,” Melody said. “At least in illusion.”

“That would be good enough,” Harmony agreed. “We just want to see them.”

“Illusion,” Xander said. “To recreate the scene. Based on our observation.”

“Yes,” Rhythm said. “You can go back there, and send what you see, and we'll see it.”

The man nodded. “Maybe that will work. We can certainly try it. But it would be better to start from our home, instead of out here in the open, so we won't be disturbed.”

“But we live across the comic strip,” Zelda said. “You wouldn't want to go there.”

“Yes we do,” Melody said. “We were headed for it anyway.”

“What's supposed to be so bad about the comic strip?” Harmony asked. “It sounds funny.”

“It's disgusting,” Xander said. Which was an odd thing for a halfzombie to say.

“It's not dangerous, is it?” Rhythm asked.

This time it was Xander, Zelda, and Green who exchanged an adult sized glance. “No, it's not dangerous to the body. It's just something you have to experience to properly appreciate,” Green said.

“But what is it?” Sim asked.

“The regions of Ptero are separated by no-creatures-land strips of puns,” Green said. “We live in the human section, Xander and Zelda live in the zombie section, and the centaurs live in the centaur section, and so on. There are many mixed sections, where crossbreeds exist, and of course folk don't have to live with their own kind. The folk of the different sections don't bother each other much, because it's so uncomfortable crossing the strips.”

“Because we're half-zombie,” Zelda said, “our brains are half festering anyway, so we can tolerate the comic strips. So we can explore freely. But you completely human folk may suffer worse. You have sane minds.”

They were acting as if mere puns were horrible. Melody thought they must be exaggerating. “Let's go see,” she said.

“Every person just has to learn the hard way,” Green murmured.

They walked on as a group. “There it is,” Xander said.

“All we have to do is cross to the other side,” Zelda said. She looked a bit pale, even for a half-zombie.

They looked. It seemed to be a thin zone of odd plants and objects. It did not look frightening or gruesome.

“Puns, do your worst,” Harmony said, striding forward.

“Here we come,” Rhythm said, joining her.

Melody would have hesitated, but had to join her sisters. Sim seemed to have similar reservations, but came along also.

They stepped across the vague line almost together. Nothing happened. Melody saw what looked like beans lying scattered on the ground. She stooped to pick one up. It seemed soft, so she squeezed it. There was a squirt of fluid from its end that vaporized and formed into letters: BEWARE! PUNS AHEAD.

Melody stared at it, not getting the point. Of course there were puns ahead!

“I get it,” Sim peeped. “That's ampoule warning.”

Slowly that registered. Melody groaned. As puns went, that was egregious.

Meanwhile, Harmony found a little package. She opened it--and everything went still. There was no motion anywhere; it was as if they were all frozen. But they weren't, exactly.

Zelda joined them. “Ah, you have opened half of a split moment,” she said. “I recognize it, because of my talent of slowing time. When you open the other half, time will stand still, and you will be able to act with greatest effect.”

“But I just wasted it,” Harmony said, disgusted.

“That happens, in the comic strip.”

Meanwhile Rhythm had stirred up a cloud of bees. They were buzzing angrily around their tree but not stinging.

“Those are wood-bees,” Green said. “They have grown up to be has-beens. That's why they can't sting.”

“I feel like a has-bee myself,” Rhythm confessed, appreciating the awfulness of the pun.

Sim passed nearby, and stirred up more bees. They didn't sting either; instead they banged into things, and whatever they touched sprouted a little sign saying NO CHARGE. He considered that for a moment, then brightened. “Free bees!”

Melody took another step, and suddenly she was half stuck in tar. She slipped in it and fell, getting more of it on her. Tar was everywhere, coating her clothing and limbs. “Oook!” she cried.

“No, it's tar-nation,” Xander clarified. “Everything in it is made of tar. You'll just have to drag on through it.”

Next to her, Harmony was stepping in a puddle. She felt something under her foot and bent to pick it up. It was a fish in the shape of her foot. “Oh, no, a sole!” she exclaimed, disgusted.

Rhythm left her bees behind and came up against a huge flat freestanding sign. BILL IS BORED, it said.

“A bill bored,” she muttered.

Sim blundered into a bog in which tall thin plants with expanded muffs grew. The moment he touched one, it moved, pulling out of the bog to reveal a body below. It was a tail. “Do you know that Sean Mundane and Willow Elf summoned the stork?” it demanded. “And I'll tell you exactly how they did it!”

“A tattle tail!” Sim peeped.

“We've got to get out of here!” Melody cried. She linked hands with her sisters and charged for the nearest clear region, with Sim right beside them.

They burst out into what appeared to be a huge cave. “Oops, wrong direction,” Zelda said. “This may be complicated to escape.”

“Why, what is it?” Harmony asked.

“The Com Unity section,” Green said grimly. “We'd almost be better off in the comic strip.”

Rhythm looked around. In every direction were lighted screens. Some had print on them, others had pictures. “This resembles Com Pewter's cave,” she said.

“Which suggests that these machines can change local reality,” Sim concluded.

“Back away slowly,” Green said. “Don't make any sudden moves. Maybe we can escape before they realize we're here.”

PARTY OF SEVEN STEPS FORWARD, the nearest screen printed.

They stepped forward in unison, seven steps.

“Who or what is this?” Melody asked, alarmed.

I AM COM PULSION, the screen printed. I CHANGE THE REALITY OF VISITORS WHO DO NOT WISH TO OBEY. WHO ARE YOU?

She felt compelled to answer. “I am Sorceress Melody, and these are my sisters and companions.”

“Who are the others?” Harmony asked.

In answer, words appeared in each screen, identifying them:

COM MUTE. I CHANGE THE REALITY OF TRAVEL.

COM RAD. I CHANGE THE REALITY OF FRIENDSHIP.

COM MA. I CHANGE THE REALITY OF PUNCTUATION.

COM FUSE. I CHANGE THE REALITY OF INTELLIGIBILITY--I THINK.

“Well, we can't stay,” Rhythm said. “It has been nice meeting you.”

Com Pulsion's print changed. VISITING TWENTY-YEAR-OLD WOMEN ARE SILENT. PARTY OF SEVEN WILL--

A flickering zap crossed all five screens. “Turn and flee!” Zelda cried. “I'm slowing their time.”

“And I'm nullifying them for an instant electromagnetically,” Xander said.

They turned and fled the cave. In half a moment they were back in the comic strip. The half-zombies' talents had gotten them free.

But now they had to fight their way back out of the stinking morass of puns. Melody's foot came down on something squishy. She yanked her foot up, but the squished thing clung stickily to it. She had stepped in a pun. She had to use her hand to pry it off, and then some of the squished ick got on her fingers. It stung, and without thinking she put her fingers in her mouth. That was another mistake. The taste was foul.

“$$$$!” she shouted. “####! ****!”

Her sisters stared at her. Harmony turned as red as utter shame, and Rhythm's teeth fell into the bottom of her mouth.

“She's swearing!” Sim peeped.

Green Murphy looked at the remnant of the squished pun. “No wonder! That's I-be-profane. It makes a person swear villainously.”

“Or a here-tic,” Xander said. “It's hard to tell, in that condition.”

“Stop theorizing and get out of here,” Zelda said. “This way.”

They followed her into a blinding light. Suddenly they were flung outward. Melody found herself sitting on the ground, the dread comic strip behind her. The others were sprawled around her.

“What happened?” Sim peeped. His lovely feathers were severely ruffled.

“I found a white hole,” Zelda said. “It throws everything out.”

“Thank you,” Melody gasped. “I couldn't stand much more of that.”

“You were right about the comic strip,” Harmony said. “It's horrible.”

“Yuck!” Rhythm concluded.

They were evidently in the zombie region, because the grass of the lawn was somewhat rotten, and the trees dripped slime. But it seemed wonderful. What was a little honest rot, compared to spoiling puns? They got to their feet, got themselves organized, and walked the rest of the way to the half-zombie house.

The house, of course, was something less than pristine. It reminded Melody of the Zombie Master's castle back on Xanth, only on a lesser scale. “Why didn't you join the zombies on their new world?” she asked.

“Because we're only half-zombie,” Xander replied. “Anyway, it's the zombies of Xanth who need that world; we have a perfectly good region here on Ptero.”

“Now let's see how we can show you your mother as a young girl,” Zelda said. “I'm afraid we can't show you your father; he was in Mundania, and so he didn't appear in Ptero until he came to live in Xanth. He is limited to his adult life, geographically.”

“That's all right,” Harmony said. “Mother Ivy is enough.”

“We can't do this with our magic,” Xander said. “How are you going to arrange it?”

“We'll sing and play a picture of what you send us,” Rhythm said. “We may not be able to go as far back as you can, but we can use our magic to tune to your minds and see what you see and hear what you hear.”

“I'm not sure I understand,” he said. “I don't have the healthiest mind.”

“I think I understand,” Green Murphy said. “It's not that your mind is bad, but that the concept is tricky. But I've seem them do it before, when their other selves wanted to travel beyond their life spans. They set up a connection to you, and maintain it while you travel. So it's as though you're in touch with a magic mirror.”

“This is formidable magic,” he said.

“They are Sorceresses, and their power squares when two of them act together, and cubes when three do. They can be formidable manipulators of time, when they try.”

“That is indeed formidable,” Zelda agreed. “It makes my talent seem like a spot on the wall.”

“And mine seem like garden variety,” Green agreed. “Though I am myself a Sorceress.”

Melody refrained from reminding them that time was only one aspect of their joint talent. They could be formidable in several types of magic, when they tried. She realized that her sense of discretion was now adultish instead of childish. “We'll start our picture now,” she said. “So you can see how it works.”

Melody sang wordlessly--she realized with a start that humming had been her childish form of music--and Harmony played her harmonica and Rhythm beat her drum. A picture of Xander and Zelda formed in the air between them, looking exactly as they did in real Ptero half-life.

“That's me!” Xander said, startled, in life and in the picture.

“And me,” Zelda said. “But I shouldn't be there; I'm not going. I'll stay here to fix a batch of pickled cookies for a snack.” She turned, in life and in the picture, and stepped out of the picture. As she did so, the picture figure zipped to the real figure, and they merged.

“Very well,” Xander said. “I will hike back to Princess Ivy's childhood in the human section.” He left the house and started walking. The man disappeared, but the picture remained, showing him emerging from the house. Then he looked around. “Are you still there?”

“There's a picture in front of you,” Green said. “Only you can see it, but it's there. Just focus your eyes on it.”

“Oh, there you are,” he agreed. “Right there inside the house. But you know, it will take me several hours to get there, even electromagnetically enhancing my velocity.”

“I'll fast forward us to your arrival,” Green said.

“Maybe that's just as well. I will have to cross a comic strip on the way there.”

“Fast forward!” Harmony said. The picture wavered, because she had to interrupt her playing, but it steadied when she resumed. The others laughed.

“I'll bake those cookies,” Zelda said, leaving the room.

Then they were several hours later. Melody could tell, because the hands of the decrepit clock on the wall had jumped. Zelda was just returning with a hot plateful of cookies. Green had used her talent, which was proving to be useful to alleviate boredom.

The cookies looked slightly putrid, but tasted good; they were not actually rotten. While they ate, they contacted Xander. “Are you there?” Sim peeped.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Your picture was frozen for several hours; I was getting concerned.” He didn't speak in words, because he was now a baby one-year-old. He spoke in goos and gurgles, but they were able to understand him.

“They couldn't update it while they were being fast forwarded,” Green explained. “It will be the same when you return.”

“Where are you?” Rhythm asked.

“I am in the eastern part of the human section, where Princess Ivy is six years old,” he gurgled. “In fact, here she is now.”

The picture oriented on a cute little girl with green hair, a green dress, and a little crown. She was, it turned out, holding Baby Xander. All girls liked babies. “She looks a lot like you, Melody,” Sim peeped.

Ivy in the picture looked at him. “Who are you, big bird?”

“I am Sim, son of the Simurgh,” he peeped.

“She has a chick?” she asked, cutely astonished.

“I'm from a later time,” he peeped. “I was hatched in the year Ten Ninety-five. At the moment I am in the year Eleven Sixteen, visiting Xander and Zelda Zombie.”

“Oh, downtime,” she said. She peered past him. “Is that Zelda? She looks so old!”

“I am forty-two at the moment,” Zelda agreed.