Castle Kidnapped

Thirty-four Lab

A strange machine had appeared on the platform. It was a sledlike affair of brass and steel, having at the back a circular decorated screen that looked like an open parlor fan and appeared capable of revolving. There was a seat for the operator or pilot, upholstered in red plush velvet. Numerous other Victorian touches graced the thing, here lace, there ornate chasing. A quartz rod protruded from a simple control panel in front of the operator’s seat.

Linda said, “Is that it?”

Incarnadine approached the platform. “I don’t know. Strangest damned thing.”

Jeremy said, “Jesus. I’ve seen that piece of junk somewhere.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. I think it was in a movie.”

Linda put a hand to her throat. “Oh, my. You know, I think he’s right.”

“It looked like something out of an H. G. Wells story. In fact —”

“The Time Machine,” Jeremy squealed.

“I’ll be buggered,” Incarnadine said. “It’s a cheat.”

“What?” Linda said.

“The spell cheated on us.”

“You’ll have to explain.”

“Spells are tricky animals. Sticklers for the letter of the wording. The spell asked for ‘a dimensional traveling machine.’ Well, time is a dimension, all right. The spell searched around, couldn’t find the thing that would satisfy the intent of the wording, so it fished this thing out of oblivion in desperation.”

“You make it sound as though the spell itself were a living thing.”

“It is, in a way.”

Jeremy came over. “I wonder what studio still had this thing.”

“Studio?” Incarnadine said. “The wording didn’t ask for a movie prop. Delivering one would be a breach of performance.”

“Huh? You mean —?”

“Well, I don’t know if this improbable contraption actually works, but it just might.”

“But what world — I mean, where would you get the real thing? It was just in a story, for crissakes.”

“When you’re dealing with an infinite plethora of possibilities, anything can be real. Somewhere, obviously, there exists a world where H. G. Wells is fiction, and his creations fact.”

Linda said, “But I thought that there were only 144,000 universes.”

Incarnadine shot her a curious look. “Whoever told you that? There are only 144,000 portals in the castle. But possible universes? There are an infinite number of those.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not common knowledge. There is some debate about the literal, ontological existence of some of these ghost worlds, but — never mind. We don’t have time.”

“What do we do now?” Jeremy asked.

“Recast the spell at a greater power output, after further debugging. We have to nail down the wording exactly. Trouble is, we’re going to have power supply problems farther down the road. Well, it can’t be helped.”

Incarnadine mounted the platform, ruefully eyeing the Wellsian contrivance. “Damn it, this isn’t going the way I had planned at all.”

Linda took his arm. “You’ll win, Your Majesty. You always do.”

“Even Superman has kryptonite.”

Jeremy ran back to his computer, yelling, “I’ll have it debugged in two minutes!”

Incarnadine hugged Linda. “Thanks. You did a wonderful job on the computer’s biotic components.”

“I’ll never forgive you for the newts.”

The laboratory flickered and yowled. Sparks arced between silver spheres, and the air crackled with energy. “ … three … two … one! Trip it, Jeremy!”

Another strange device made its appearance on the platform. Bell-shaped and silvery, it had a circular hatch on the side. An oval window lay farther along the curve of the bell. A face appeared in it.

“Gene!”

Linda ran up onto the platform and banged on the hatch, shouting for him.

Incarnadine and Jeremy arrived just as the hatch popped open. Gene Ferraro stuck his head out.

“Got someone hurt in here,” he said.

Linda stood by as they carried out a long-legged, practically naked woman. Despite her severe burns, she was beautiful.

Incarnadine examined her. “She’s bad,” he said finally.

“Help her, Incarnadine,” Gene said. “It’s my fault. You have to help her.”

“We’ll do all we can. Fortunately there’s power to spare, for the moment.”

They carried her to a far corner and put together a makeshift bed out of seat cushions and tapestries from the wall. Incarnadine returned with Gene to the platform, Linda staying behind to tend to the woman.

“You can’t use this thing,” Gene was saying. “It doesn’t work. It’s a dud.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Incarnadine told him. “There’ll be a spell powering it.”

“But … I don’t understand. If the thing plain doesn’twork …”

“Remember, science isn’t efficacious in this universe. Very likely that’s why the gizmo failed in the first place. Once a science-based machine crosses over into a magic universe ka-flooey, it breaks down. Therefore, it would never make the crossing at all.”

“Yeah, I get it. But then, what was the point of conjuring this machine?”

“The point was to give the spell something to work with, to take its function from. You can make a carpet fly easy enough. But how do you make an interdimensional carpet? The spell would just fizzle that way.”

Gene threw out his hands. “No wonder I’m such a lousy magician. You know, I once fancied myself a writer, and I tried writing fantasy. I couldn’t handle it. Magic doesn’t make any goddamn sense!”

“You’re not flaky enough to be a fantasy writer.”

Linda returned. “She’s resting as comfortably as she can, under the circumstances.”

“Did you magic up a pain pill for her?” Gene asked.

“Yes, a real knockout one, too. She’ll be okay for now.”

Gene, Linda, and Jeremy stood at the base of the platform stairs. Incarnadine addressed them from the top.

“Unfortunately Vaya will have to remain here in the lab to get the full benefit of the tripspell I placed on her. It could be dangerous, because there’s going to be an unbelievable energy surge. The equipment here is ancient, and some of it could blow.”

“I’m staying with her, of course,” Gene said. “All I want to know is, will your healing spell work?”

“There will be enough energy at that moment to create a race of Vayas, let alone merely heal one. Yes, it will work.”

“I’m sorry,” Gene said. “Obviously there are more momentous things going on.”

“That’s true. Jeremy, set your computer’s clock to trip the main spell one minute after you people clear the room. Check?”

“Check.”

Linda said, “I’m not leaving you, Gene.”

“Do as he says, Linda.”

“No, I’m staying in the lab. I want to see what happens.”

“If the whole scheme works, I won’t be gone long,” Incarnadine said, “reckoning by castle time. If I don’t return shortly, it won’t matter much where you are.”

“I’m staying,” Linda said firmly.

“Fine,” Incarnadine said. “Good luck to all of you. Jeremy, is everything ready?”

“Ready as it’ll ever be. Jeremy shook his head glumly. “But I don’t know. These two computers were having sex a minute ago. It was …weird.”

“Love among the ruins. Okay, everybody at his station. Jeremy, give me five minutes to check out this machine. I’ll give you the high sign from the window there. Then you boot up the program and run for cover. Got me?”

“Gotcha.”

The lab howled. Violent discharges leaped from sphere to sphere like great flaming beasts. Orreries whirled, and multicolored auras glowed above the ranks of towering machinery.

They huddled in the corner, Vaya tucked behind them against the wall. Linda hugged Gene, and Jeremy hugged Linda. Together they watched. The noise was unbelievable. There came periodic flashes and an occasional geyser of sparks. Smoke arose from some of the main components.

Gene looked toward the platform. The Sidewise Voyager was still there. There could be only seconds left before the spell was tripped.

“Get ready!” he said, but no one could hear him.

The whine from the machinery rose in pitch until it became unbeatable. Sparks cascaded and splashed across the floor. The air turned blue, then violet, and everything in the lab — animate and inanimate — began to acquire a spectral glow.

A great howling arose as the machines reached their peak of efficiency, became ready to deliver a microsecond of unimaginable thrust.

The moment came, and the Voyager disappeared with a flash. Then Incarnadine’s laboratory flew apart in a terrific explosion.