Castle War

Eighteen Golfworld

“Look at this!” Thaxton said indignantly.

The fairway on the twelfth hole was mostly sand with patches of burnt grass. However daunting, though, the twelfth hole was an improvement over the eleventh, which had been mostly superheated rock, and a vast improvement over the tenth, which had featured hazards of sulphuric acid and man-eating plants in the rough. (They had looked man-eating, Thaxton claimed.)

“Get out your sand wedge,” Dalton said.

The gargoyle twosome was playing ahead, making their approach shots.

“Go ahead,” Dalton said. “You have the honor.”

Thaxton had birdied the last hole. His injuries seemed to have been liberating, somehow. What did he have to lose? His play had improved. His leg was unbroken but very sore, and he still hobbled using his partner’s two-iron as a crutch. He owed his intact bones to the fact that the clubhouse roof had not been concrete but some lighter material. Also, the offending chunk of masonry had rolled onto him after falling. A direct hit would have done real damage.

“They look out of range,” Thaxton said as he watched the gargoyles hike to the green. He yelled fore, anyway, and hit his drive.

They played across the desert. Thaxton swore he saw things moving in the sand. Dalton saw nothing.

“Are there bloody big worms in sand?” he asked.

“You never know what you may find in a dune,” Dalton said.

In the burning wastes every lie was a “fried egg,” but they carried on. Dalton made a beauty of a cut shot and was on the green in three. Thaxton did even better, sinking his chip shot for an eagle.

“You’re quite proud of yourself, aren’t you?” Dalton said.

“All in a day’s play, my dear fellow,” Thaxton said smugly.

Dalton two-putted and they went off to find the next tee, which was nowhere in sight.

“That way?” Thaxton asked, pointing to the right.

“Out across there,” Dalton said, indicating flats ahead.

They walked for a good long while. The desert wastes blended to arid plain. The sky became a strange color, a sort of yellowish green. Dark mountains lay opposite the large blue sun.

“God, it is blue, isn’t it?” Thaxton said, shading his eyes.

“Blue-white. A blue giant star, right at the top of the Main Sequence.”

“The what?”

“Astronomy lingo. Blue giants are very large, very hot stars.”

“Bloody hot. I’m sweating like a Turk.”

“What’s this?”

Thaxton looked around. “What’s what?”

“Up ahead. Is that a road?”

Indeed it was a road, a wide black highway running from horizon to horizon. They walked to it and stood on the shoulder, looking one way and then the other. No traffic in sight. Thaxton put one spiked shoe on the paved surface and scraped it back and forth.

“Doesn’t seem to be macadam or asphalt.”

“Black concrete?” Dalton ventured.

“A bit strange.”

“Yeah,” Dalton said, nodding slowly.

Thaxton tilted his head to one side. “Hear that?”

“What?”

“A buzzing?”

Dalton listened. “Yup. Any electric lines around?”

“I think it’s coming from the road.” Thaxton tried to stoop but couldn’t.

Dalton did and cocked an ear. “Maybe. Faintly buzzing.”

“Interesting.”

“I hear something else.”

Thaxton looked up the road. “Something’s coming.”

They waited. At the road’s vanishing point a silver dot grew to a bigger dot, then got a lot bigger very fast. The thing roared like a wounded beast.

“Good God, what’s that?”

“A very fancy eighteen-wheeler.”

It was a trailer truck, that was sure, but an intimidatingly futuristic one, composed of daring curved planes, clear bubbles, and other rakish features. Whatever it was rolling on, there seemed to be more than eighteen of them. The vehicle was huge and it was traveling at a terrific rate of speed.

Suddenly it began to decelerate, emitting all sorts of horrendous screeches and roars. The golfers warily stepped back from the edge of the road. The vehicle swerved to the shoulder as it braked and came to a shuddering stop not more than ten feet from the golfers.

The two walked around the gargantuan cab and looked up at what they took to be the driver’s window.

A port hissed open and a man poked his head out. He was about thirty-five with wavy dark hair and twinkling eyes. There was a rugged, blue-jawed handsomeness to him. He flashed an engaging smile.

“Greetings, gentlemen. We didn’t know this planet was inhabited. Fact is, it’s not on any official map. Are we lost, or are you?”

“We’re not natives,” Thaxton said, “if that’s what you mean. Just playing a few holes of golf.”

“Golf, eh? What’s your handicap?”

“Oh, God, high twenties, I’m afraid. Do you golf?”

“No time, I’m always on the road.”

“Of course. I say, exactly where is this planet? We’re strangers here ourselves.”

“Supposed to be in the Lesser Magellanic Cloud. Where are you from?”

“Uh, nice truck you have there,” Dalton said.

“Thanks. I’m behind in the payments.”

“Who’s the manufacturer?”

“GP Technologies. They make a flashy rig.”

“Impressive.”

“It’s seen a lot of road.”

A beautiful face appeared at the window. Its owner had short dark hair and cool blue eyes.

“Hi,” she said. “Are you fellows starhiking?”

“No, ma’am,” Dalton said. “We’re playing golf.”

“Didn’t know there was a course on this world,” the driver said. “Didn’t think there was any life on it at all.”

“There may not be life,” Thaxton said, “but there’s death on the tenth hole.”

“Tough course, huh?”

“Rather,” Thaxton said. “Tell me, where does this road go?”

“Oh, it goes all over. From star to star, world to world.”

“More balmy worlds. All we need, really. Another thing — rather strange, perhaps it’s the heat. But is there any reason for the road making a sort of buzzing noise?”

“Oh, that’s roadbuzz. You should always listen to roadbuzz, but never believe any of it.”

“Yes, but why does it make that sound?”

“Nobody knows. The road’s a living thing. It conforms with the changing terrain over eons. How it does that, only the Road-builders know, and they’re not talking.”

Bemused, Thaxton nodded. “Right. Well, we’d best be off. Very nice to talk with you.”

Dalton said, “By the way, you didn’t happen to spot the thirteenth tee, did you?”

“Afraid not,” the driver said. “If I see it, though, I’ll double back and let you know.”

“Appreciate it,” Dalton said, stepping back. “Take care, now.”

The driver nodded. “Don’t take any wooden kilocredits.”

“Listen, if you see any castles off the side of the road,” Dalton said, then thought better of it. “Uh, never mind.”

The driver grinned. “Ain’t the universe a wacky place?”

The beautiful woman waved at them, smiling.

The engine howled and the truck swung out onto the smooth pavement. It roared off down the road.

They watched it become a silver dot again, then vanish.

“Charming fellow, wasn’t he?” Dalton said.

“As truck drivers go, I suppose.”

“I bet someone could write a great novel about the sort of life he leads.”

“Oh, I rather doubt it.”