The Prophecy Machine

17

“Please tell me this isn' thappening, Finn. Tell me it's certainly not happening to me. Tell me I'm back in Garpenny Street in my very own home, and I'm having a really bad dream.”

“I wish I could say that, love. I wish I could make this all go away.”

Finn stood at the window staring out at the hot and dreary day. “I feel as if it's somehow my fault, that I, and I alone, have gotten you into this terrible mess.”

“That's the way I feel, too.”

“What, my dear?”

“That it's all your fault. That you got me into this mess. And don't call me ‘dear’ or ‘love’ or any other term of affection. If you do, I think I'll get sick. I have never been so frightened, so angry, so completely undone, except when old Miz Griller put Mama in a hex and she wasn't acting right for some time. Why couldn't we just go to the mountains like everyone else? Why did we have to get a boat and come here, will you explain that?

“No, don't. Don't even try. Miz Elaina Bloc, who's married to Ollie, who runs the Sweet Store? They had a perfectly lovely time in the mountains. They saw a cave and a little waterfall. Elaina even bought a pot from ancient times.

“Finn, if I don't get something to eat I'm going to die right here, are you aware of that? Do you even care?”

Finn turned to face her, partially appalled. “How can you even think such a thing, much less say it aloud?”

“It's easy, I'm sorry to say. I hope, for your sake and mine, I feel different sometime. But that's how I'm feeling now.”

He thought his heart would break. He didn't know what to do next. He wanted to hold her, but he knew this was not the time for that. She looked so lovely, so delicate and fine, perched cross-legged on the bed, totally bare and sleepy-eyed, unaware of how the sight of her filled him with love, with overwhelming desire. The morning sun painted her downy skin, the colors muted by the window's dirty glass and a veil of spiderwebs.

“I'm going right now,” Finn told her. “I'll get you something to eat if I have to flatten Squeen William and fix it myself. If there's nothing edible here, I'll-go and find something in town.”

“No. No you won't.” Letitia sat up straight. “You think I'm going to sit here and let something awful come up those stairs the minute you're out of sight? I'm bedamned if I will. Just get that out of your head.”

“Yes, but-”

Letitia was up in an instant, slipping into the garments she'd worn from the ship, which looked as if they'd been wadded up in a ball somewhere.

Finn was startled and alarmed, and though he thought it most peculiar, quite charmed at the sudden, fierce resolution in the wife he thought he knew. She was fury un-chained, and he was certain he could live with that. He was also certain if she guessed his thoughts then, he'd wish they'd never popped into his head.

Finn blinked as a blurry flash of lizard darted across the floor and vanished beneath the bed.

“Get out of there,” he said. “We're all going down for breakfast. Nobody's staying up here.”

“If you're mad at me, Finn, it'll just have to be,” Letitia said, patting down her frizzled hair. “That's the way I am right now.”

“What?” Finn tried to look terribly pained. “I'm not mad at you, Letitia. You must know I could never do that …”

“I dearly love the morning,” Calabus said, spraying bits of breakfast through his beard. “There's something about a new day dawning, like the world's starting over, fresh and pure again-Brruuch! Sorry, miss. I expect you've heard a man belch before, it's quite a common event. May I say, you're looking most comely, my dear?”

The old man reached over and patted her hand. Letitia drew it quickly away.

“No offense, now. A compliment's what it is, nothing more than that.”

Calabus winked at Finn as if they shared some base and lecherous thought. Finn didn't bother to complain. There was clearly no way to stop the man. He'd say what he liked, whatever popped into his head. This morning, he was wearing a shabby robe. Food from meals past formed a crusty path down the front. As ever, he didn't seem to care.

Breakfast was a horror. Deep-fried turnips. Turnip bread. Some kind of jelly, possibly made of dirt. Something hot and gray in a cup. Finn wouldn't drink it on a bet. Nucci and son seemed to like the stuff quite a bit. Finn took a bite of this and that. Letitia ate everything she could, and finished off Finn's plate as well. Finn tried not to think of Squeen William, who had fixed all this with his damp and furry hands. He wondered what the kitchen looked like, and pushed the thought quickly aside.

“I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you are my guest, Master Finn. That contraption of yours is a wonder, a fine mechanical feat. You simply must take it apart and show me how it works.”

Julia gave a frightful croak, and dug her iron claws in Finn's back.

Calabus laughed, and pounded the table with his fist. “By damn, the little bugger understands me, does it not? How on earth did you manage that?”

He leaned in closer, bread crumbs drifting like snow from his beard. “What you got in its head, little wheels and such? A little magic too, I'd guess. I'm a fair crafter myself, but I couldn't do that.”

“It knows a few elementary words,” Finn said, “nothing more than that.”

“A great deal more than that,” Sabatino said, raising a wicked brow. It was the first time he'd spoken. He had spent his time leering at Letitia, taking some perverted form of pleasure watching her eat. He was dressed in slightly better fashion than his father, clad in faded lilac from head to toe.

“You forget, Finn, that we shared a great adventure yesterday. Your lizard is quite extraordinary, in a number of ways.”

“My invention, now,” Calabus put in, waving his son aside, “is most unusual as well, if I do say so myself. What I have not accomplished, sir, is cramming so much complexity into such a tiny space. I fear that damned thing of mine simply gets bigger. I cannot contain it. It sprawls all over the place.”

“That's a bloody understatement,” Sabatino muttered to himself.

“You think I didn't hear that?” Calabus clenched his fists and glared. “You think I'm deaf? What have you done with your miserable life, boy, except go through my money like soup through a sieve? That, and father every squealing mutt in town. At least I've accomplished something. I've given something back to the world!”

“A pile of crap clogging up the cellar. The world's got plenty of that …”

Finn looked at Calabus with alarm. The old man's face was purple as a grape. His eyes began to bulge, and Finn feared they might pop out and severely injure someone. Even Letitia was stunned by the sight, and stopped eating long enough to watch.

Half a second shy of a stroke, Calabus' features faded to a splotched and dissipated red. Moments later, his wits slipped back in place.

“You will, I hope, accept my son's apology for his behavior. It shames me to say he's my own flesh and blood, this vile, repulsive excuse for a man.”

“I think I resent that, Father.” Sabatino picked up his plate and dashed it to the floor. “That is a hurtful thing to say, and quite unfair. I fear I must demand satisfaction, unless you take your words back.”

Finn couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, which drew a startled glance from Letitia, and angered Sabatino all the more.

“Are you challenging your own father to a duel? Is that what I heard you say?” Finn covered his mouth in an effort to restrain himself. “I thought you a blustering fool, but I fear I am way off the mark. You're clearly a flaming lunatic! Great Tails and Snails, man, you ought to be locked up somewhere …”

Sabatino sprang out of his chair. Before Finn could blink, the man was on the table coming at him on all fours, scattering dishes, saucers and cups. Spoons without handles, knives without blades. Platters and handicapped forks. Letitia cried out, ducking turnips and flying bits of bread.

Finn scarcely had time to bring up his arms and fend the man off before Sabatino's big hands closed about his throat.

Finn's chair collapsed, shattered into scrap. Finn hit the floor, flat on his back. Sabatino held on like a vise. Finn pounded the fellow's face, struck him on the nose, hit him in the mouth. Even in the fury of battle, he noticed Sabatino had a missing upper molar, and extremely bad breath.

Sabatino cursed him, howled like a loon, pummeled his head against the floor. Finn began to see stars. Not simply stars, but whole constellations. The Chicken, the Wand, the Three-Legged Witch. He had never been able to spot the other leg, but he saw it clearly now.

Letitia broke a plate over Sabatino's head. The plate, from three different races, blue and green and red, could never be mended again. Sabatino hardly noticed. Julia bit him on the foot, but he didn't seem to feel that.

Suddenly, his face disappeared behind short stubby wings, wings that were furry, scabby and black. Squeen William lifted his master off the floor, carried him off, and set him gently in his seat.

Finn came shakily to his feet. Letitia gave him a glass of turnip wine. Finn drank another glass as well, before he remembered he couldn't stand the stuff.

“That doesn't count as a fight,” Sabatino said. “Closer to a scrap. Don't imagine I'm through with you yet …”

“Indeed you are, though,” Calabus said, his face approaching a ruby shade again. “That man is a master of mechanical arts. I insist you treat him as such.

“Squeen William, I commend you for your help in this affair. My son would have murdered the fellow had you not stepped in to save his life. You will be severely scourged for laying your foul and nasty hands on your betters. I will personally flog you senseless until you scream for mercy. Then I will think of something worse after that. Moreover, you will not have dessert for a week. Again, I am grateful for your loyalty and your service to this house. Please get your miserable, stinking carcass out of here and bring me some cheese. Not that vile-tasting piss-colored stuff, I want the white.”

Squeen William quickly vanished behind the kitchen door. Finn, still awed by the creature's strength, wanted to thank him as well, but decided the poor fellow was in enough trouble now.

“And you, sir …” Calabus turned his rheumy eyes on Finn. “We go beyond all tradition and taste to even harbor you here. I acknowledge the debt, but it sickens me to have you in our house. Moreover, we do not care to be called lunatics. I would remind you that persons of high intelligence are often deemed cabbage-brained or goofy by those of lesser ilk. Moreover, I have observed over a long lifetime that mental stability is not all it's cracked up to be.”

Calabus wiped a greasy sleeve across his mouth, and reached for the decanter of turnip wine.

“Now. I hope we're done with that. Let's get back to subjects of greater interest. My modest contribution to science is what I'd like to pursue.”

“No,” Finn said, “I won't do that.”

“What?”

“I have no interest in your work. Not any, none at all.”

“Finn …” Letitia looked concerned.

“Don't worry, I can handle this.”

“I suggest you don't.” Sabatino grabbed the arms of his chair, poised to leap again. “You've had a taste of what happens out there. Our home is your only sanctuary. Don't make us any sorrier than we are that you sit at our table and sleep in our bed.”

Finn shook his head in wonder. “And we're safe in here? You've got killers lurking about in the dark. You've got some-some decrepit old maniac foaming at the mouth … Oh, sorry. No one's crazy here, I forgot.”

Calabus made a face. “Those are personal problems. No concern of yours.”

“I told him that,” Sabatino said. “Fellow doesn't know when to quit.”

“Desssert, sssirs and misss? Sssea Pudding, with tiny little thingss inssside. Little blackie thingsss.”

“Get out,” Sabatino shouted, “you vile, filthy Newlie dung! No offense, miss.”

“No-certainly not,” Letitia said, looking frightened, and just this side of dread.

“All of you, please.” Calabus spread his hands, looking weary, looking pained. “Master Finn and I were discussing my invention. I cannot wait to go over this together, sir, to get your invaluable suggestions. How it can be-ah-modified, changed for the better, made more useful to all mankind. Don't pretend you're not curious now, I can see the thirst for knowledge in your eyes. Damn your rotting flesh, Squeen, get that Sea Pudding in here before I drop hot coals in your ears and stick thorns in your eyes!

“At any rate,” he said, making a little tent with his hands, “I think you'll be delighted. I know you're in for a surprise.”

Finn let out a sigh of resignation. “All right, what exactly is it? I don't believe you said.”

“It's something you really have to see.”

“Yes, I thought it might be.”

“It's-ah-it's a device.”

“A device.”

“Yes.”

“And what is the nature of this device?”

“Big.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It's basically a very big device.”

“Well, that clears it up for me.”

“Damnation,” Sabatino groaned, “just tell him, Father, get it over with.”

“I will, boy, I'm coming to that right now.”

Finn was delighted to note that Sabatino's jaw was slightly off center, and that his nose was larger than usual and out of whack. With any luck, the swelling might never go down.

“It's big. A great deal bigger than I planned. I have to say it's out of hand …”

Squeen William appeared bearing cups of something jellied and gray. Gray, apparently, was Squeen William's choice for food of every sort.

“Ah, very nice, Squeen. No one can make Sea Pudding like you. Mind you don't sneak any for yourself, or I'll slice off several of your toes.”

“Sssssomebody bees here,” Squeen said. “Ssssomebody atta door.”

“What?”

“What?”

Calabus and Sabatino looked up at once.

“Who is it,” the younger asked, “and what in damnation's he doing here?”

“Never mind,” Calabus said, “whoever it is, don't let the bastard in.”

“Already am,” said a voice behind Squeen. “Took the liberty. Know my way in the dark to my good friend's house.”

Calabus came out of his chair, gasping for breath.

“Sabatino,” he cried, grabbing a mended fork. “To arms, lad, run the fellow through! Kill him before he slays us all …!”