A Highly Unlikely Scenario, or a Neetsa Pizza Employee's Guide to Saving the World (22 page)

What did he say? Did he talk about the Voynich? What did he say?

Sally!

And there was Leonard's voice again, broadcast as if through one of the Leader's mobile shout machines: WHAT IS A CATHAR?

C
ATHARS
? boomed that loud voice.
C
ATHARS BE THE VERY
WORST FORM OF HERETIC
! F
ELLOW CITIZENS, COME
! J
OIN ME
! L
ET US CAPTURE SOME HERETICS
! W
E CAN INQUISIT THEM, THEN
ALIENATE THEIR LIMBS!

Which shout was followed by a murderous ululation—coming from just around the corner!

Run! Sally suggested, so they did.

Leonard couldn't say how they ended up there, in a dark road, where their eyes watered from noxious fumes and dust. Inside gloomy shops, one after the other, tired-looking men surrounded by bits of ancient rock tended gigantic ovens, where, it seemed, they were cooking stone.

Stone-bakers.
The world was full of wonders!

They rested against the arcades.

It was the navigator watch, Leonard said, still puffing. Saying back what I'd said to it. The Inquisitor has the watch.

Obviously.

You're not really mad that I spoke with Roger Bacon. What did you think I did?

Sally shook her head. She seemed close to tears.

Maybe I'm mad that it never occurred to me, okay? I should have thought of that!

Leonard shrugged and realized that if Isaac's plan was to be complete, the Brazen Head would have to shut down, or at least shut down its connection to Bacon, lest someone, maybe even Sally here, call him and reverse Leonard's good work. This saddened him.

You didn't think of it because it was too obvious. Your mind is more subtle than that.

Sally considered this.

Yes, she said, maybe. So what next?

Leonard had no idea. If the navigator watch was talking to the man with the loud boots, it wouldn't just be Leonard's voice and interests it would share—Leonard had been cammed, so they'd also have his face, with or without his ebullient hair.

What else had he asked the Brazen Head? Besides library hours and caravan schedules. He'd asked about Sue & Susheela. He'd asked about Milione, and Isaac. If Dwane were at the other end, he'd suspect that Sally was with him, and know that she'd asked about the pope. He also knew about Sally's Abulafianism.

Wait, he said, how come Dwane isn't frozen?

He's not real, Sally said. He's an early model of the Brazen Head, more successful than Sue & Susheela, but still.

Dwane isn't real and he wants to lead the Baconians?

He thinks he's real.

I thought Dwane created Sue & Susheela.

It's complicated.

Leonard's health meter started to vibrate. Yes, Dwane knew about Leonard and Sally, but he also knew about Felix! Felix was always asking questions of the Brazen Head. If Dwane knew about Felix, then the man with the loud boots knew about Felix, and everything Felix was interested in: avoidance of compost-heap violence, the Talmud, who knows what else! If Dwane still thought Felix was a neo-Maoist traitor spy, it could be Felix the loud-booted man was after, not them!

The navigator watch is our sign, Leonard said. The watch will lead us to Felix.

They might catch us, Sally said. Who knows what Dwane's told them.

Leonard took her hand.

It could be dangerous, he said. I'd understand if you didn't come along—and he stroked her cheek.

Uhhh, Sally said in a dreamy voice. I, uh …

Felix is my responsibility, Leonard said. You could go find Bacon. I'd understand—and he stroked her other cheek.

Her eyes fluttered shut; she looked like she was thinking about something very far away.

I do care about you, she murmured. I, uh … I, uh …

Astonished, Leonard stopped stroking her cheek; her eyes snapped open.

Did you say something? she asked. Where are we? What are we waiting for?

They walked more or less on tiptoe, to the amusement of the stone bakers, who watched them stop every few feet or so to listen.
Nothing
. But the fish market wasn't far—as they crept down the lane they could smell the shad and hear the proudly hawking fisherpeople.

Do you have anything left in your inflatable pocket? Leonard whispered as they arrived at the corner of the market.

I have my house ID scrambler, Sally said. I didn't lose that.

Keep it handy, Leonard said. Hear anything?

They strained their eardrums for sounds of Leonard, or Dwane, but heard only tumult around the corner, and then the man with the very loud voice:

W
HERE BE THE MISCREANTS WHO DOTH READ THE HERETICAL
T
ALMUD TOME
? I
SHOULD LIKE TO HARM THEM, FOR EXAMPLE, WITH A
BRANK
!

Leonard and Sally peeked their heads around the corner. An enormous man with spiked boots and a broad back and a very clean tunic was leaning over a marble stone, shouting at a fisherperson, who was plainly flummoxed.

C
OME, MADAM
, I
SHALL NOT HARM THEE, UNLESS IT BE THEE WHO CONCEALETH THE BOY WITH THE EBULLIENT HAIR
! S
PEAK, MADAM
! T
ELL
U
GOLINO DE
B
ARBARUBEIS WHERE THE
T
ALMUD READERS RESIDE, AND WHERE
I
MAY FIND THE BOY
!!!

When the fisherperson merely gawped, the enormous man yowled and grasped the marble stone with two colossal fists, upending it, with all its fish, into the mud. He then picked up the terrified fisherperson by the neck and, shaking her, said to the square:

S
OMEONE SHALL TELL ME WHERE THESE MISCREANTS BE OR THIS BLAMELESS FISHERPERSON SHALL
DANCE IN A WELL
!

I'll show him wells! Sally said, getting ready to fly at him, but Leonard restrained her.

The dangling fisherperson tried to speak but could only produce a choking, burbling sound.

W
HAT
? T
HE FISHERPERSON WISHES TO SPEAK
? W
HAT SAY THEE
? the man asked, and dropped the woman to the ground.

I merely wished to ask, yer honor, that ye release me, I being just then about to expire.

H
AST THOU NOT HEARD ME, FISHER WENCH
?—but before he
could pick her up again, someone from the crowd shouted: They're in the thee-a-ter, yer honor. I seen 'em sneakin' in, the Jew magician and his redheaded boy.

G
OOD MAN
! the man with loud boots shouted.
T
HOU SHALT HAVE FROM ME A VILLA IN
V
ITERBO
! And off he stomped.

Sally and Leonard followed the man called Ugolino, while also trying to look inconspicuous: Leonard whistled the NP theme song, while Sally feigned interest in fish. When they were well away from the fisherpeople's market, they could hear—was it? could it be?—Dwane, advising Ugolino about … Abulafia?

Abraham Abulafia was a Spanish mystic of the thirteenth century. He worked with the special characteristics of the Hebrew alphabet—the meanings and sounds and shapes and vibrations of each individual letter. By doing so, he became a great prophet of extraordinary powers
.

Familiar words.

I wrote that, Sally said, disgusted.

We need to get the watch back, Leonard said.

Sally nodded.

T
RIPE
! Ugolino shouted at the navigator watch.
I
SHALL DO GREAT HARM TO THIS FALSE PROPHET, FOR EXAMPLE, WITH A
FLAIL
!

As you like
, they heard Dwane say,
but make sure you get the girl. She's key
.

T
RIPE AND MORE TRIPE
! Ugolino shouted.
T
HE DAMSEL IS NEVER KEY
!

Still, she's bad and I think you ought to hurt her
.

I
AM ALWAYS DELICATE WITH DAMSELS
. W
HAT
'
S MORE, SHOULDST
I
TAKE INSTRUCTION FROM A DEMON
?

Dwane laughed.

As Ugolino argued with Dwane, he didn't notice Leonard and Sally trailing a block behind him. They soon arrived at a massive rounded edifice consisting of two tiers of dirty brown and white arcades plus a third, walled level up above. The theater, presumably, though Leonard could see no banners or endorsements, no certificates of amusement.

It seemed the people of this town would turn any arcade into a makeshift marketplace: here, swarthy carcass dealers shouted the benefits of their wares and gestured with enormous bloody cutlasses, their aprons smeared with effluvia. At their feet, the inner bits of beasts were gnawed upon by shameless cats.

Leonard had never seen anything so horrifying.

I'm going to stop him, Sally said.

No! Leonard said, grabbing her arm.

He doesn't know my face. I've never been cammed.

The Head didn't cam you?

Why would I let the Head cam me? and she was off behind Ugolino in a flash. Ugolino was pacing before the carcass dealers, shouting something Leonard couldn't hear. Perhaps he was trying to find a doorway large enough to accommodate his gargantuan frame, or determine where he might create one with his fist.

Sally crept up behind him and sprayed the building with her ID scrambler.

Ugolino, alerted by the spraying sound, stepped back, bumping into Sally, who sprawled to the ground.

D
EAR
L
ADY
P
ILGRIM
! he exclaimed.
I
AM MOST HEARTILY CHAGRINED
. A
LLOW ME TO HELP THEE TO THY PRETTY FEET
!

Are you looking for something? she asked, once upright, slipping the ID scrambler into her clutchbag. Can I direct you to another place very far away?

W
HY, YES, PRETTY
L
ADY
P
ILGRIM
! I
HAD THOUGHT THIS TO BE THE
T
HEATER OF
M
ARCELLUS, FORTRESS OF THE
S
AVELLI, WITH ITS CURVATURED FRONT AND REINFORCED ARCADERY
. H
OW SADLY
I
AM MISTAKEN
. M
ANIFESTLY IT IS A MUNICIPAL COMPOST HEAP VERY NEAR THE BASILICA OF
S
T
. P
ETER
'
S
!

The thronging pilgrims should be a clue, Sally said.

Ugolino looked around, confused.

Y
ES
! he shouted.
I'
M SURE
I
SHALL NOTE THEM MOMENTARILY
. H
AST THOU SEEN THE BOY WITH THE EBULLIENT HAIR
?

He is definitely at the theater, Sally said. I saw him there myself. Causing mischief and spouting heresy. A verst down the river that-a-way, across the bridge, left at the castle fortress. You can't miss it.

V
ERY GOOD
, L
ADY
P
ILGRIM
. C
ANST THOU OFFER ME A KISS TO CHEER ME ON MY WAY
?

I think you're in a hurry.

Ugolino nodded and was about to stomp off when his wrist cried out.

That's her! I hear her voice! It's Sally! Kill her! Hurt her! Kill her!

Ugolino turned to Sally, his confusion rapidly turning to rage. He ululated and lifted his arm as if to strike her, then crumpled mightily to the ground.

Leonard had smacked Ugolino's head with a paving stone, causing much murmuring among the carcass dealers. He now grabbed Sally and commenced to shouting:

Abulafia! Abulafia! You have to let us in! Quick! Quick! We have to talk!

Zedekiah appeared from the shadows behind the arcade and pulled them both after him, through a door into a dank, dark hallway.

Abulafia is going to have to take care of him now, Zedekiah said. You realize that? And maybe all of those carcass dealers!

What do you mean? Sally asked.

You led him here, putting us all in danger.

He led us, actually.

He is here because of you, and now Abulafia must attend to him.

Meaning what? Leonard asked.

Better not to know, Zedekiah said, then flattened himself against the wall as a freakishly tall man—or maybe a rushing spirit?—flew past them, opened the door, and touched the prostrate Ugolino with a disgusted fingertip. After muttering a few unintelligible words, the man-spirit disappeared. Into the thinnest air, taking Ugolino with him. In a moment he was back, slamming the door behind them, and again streaming past.

He was covered in hoarfrost, Ugolino nowhere in sight.

My Master says there are regions so cold that moving things lose their life there. They become still as statues. Even water ceases to move. I know! Most remarkable! He has brought that terrible man to such a place.

Abulafia left Ugolino on a polar tip?

Come this way, Zedekiah said.

What is this place? Leonard asked, as they walked down the narrow stone hallway, with its uneven floor, grooved by centuries of walking.

In the old days it was a theater, Zedekiah said, over his shoulder.

So I gather.

Now it is a fortress. It belongs to the Savelli, Zedekiah said.

Name sounds familiar, Sally said.

No relation to Bobolo, more's the pity. Watch your head.

They ducked under a low-hanging lintel and walked up first one, then another flight of stairs.