Castle Kidnapped

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 said.

“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.