Castle War! (26 page)

“Yeah.”
 

“Well, you jus' go right into Peach Holler, there, and see Luster Gooch and his brother Dolbert. They'll fix yore car.”
 

“Peach Holler?”
 

“That's right, jus' right down this here road a piece, take you right into town. You go an' see Luster Gooch and see iffen he cain't help you any. Ah cain't stay and chew the fat with you, got somethin' on the stove. Good day.”
 

She let the screen door close and disappeared into the odoriferous darkness of the house.
 

Peach Hollow (as the faded sign read) was a hamlet consisting of about a half a dozen houses, a few sheds, and the Gooch brothers' garage. The garage was a good walk from the road, and the front of the place was littered with wrecked automobiles and their rusting components. There were other sorts of junk, everything from old wringer washers to piles of bedsprings.
 

The big wooden barn doors were open. Jeremy and Isis walked in. The place reeked of oil and gasoline and decayed wood. A pair of dungareed legs was sticking out from under a battered car of indeterminate make.
 

Jeremy said, “Excuse me ... hey, mister?”
 

“Yo!”
 

“You got a minute? We need some help.”
 

“Start talkin', it's yore nickel.”
 

“A woman up the road told us that you—”
 

“Say whut?”
 

“Uh, our vehicle broke down up the road a ways, and we need some tools and stuff, and, like, someone to help.”
 

“Y'say yore
vee-
hicle broke down?”
 

“Yeah.”
 

“And you want someone for tuh
fix
it?”
 

“Uh ... yeah. We're in a big hurry and we're sort of in a spot. Can you help us?”
 

“Well, ah don't rightly know. What sorta
vee
-hicle d'you got?”
 

“Um. It's a foreign make.”
 

The man under the car chuckled. “Hear that Dolbert?” he called.
 

A derisory cackling came from the back of the garage.
 

“Feller's got hisself one of them there
foreign
jobs.”
 

The cackle rose in pitch. A shape came forth from the dim recesses of the garage. It was a short, chubby, homuncular man with a three-day growth of beard and most of his teeth missing. He was shirtless in grease-smeared bib overalls and wore big work shoes and a rat-chewed baseball cap.
 

The man under the car squirmed out and stood up. He was lanky and lean and wore patched dungarees over red long johns. Thick blond hair came out from under a baseball cap that had been gnawed by ferrets. He looked at Isis first and smiled, touching the brim of his cap and nodding.
 

“Ma'am,” he said, then looked at Jeremy. “Mister, ah don't rightly know iffen ah kin fix one of them
foreign
jobs. Don't see many of them around these parts.”
 

“No?” Jeremy said. “Well, would you come take a look at it?”
 

“Whut's wrong with it? Does she start? Kin you drive it in?”
 

“No, it won't start. The engine's ... not working.”
 

“Well, I guess you cain't drive it in, then. We're jus' gonna have to git the truck and go up there and git it. This here's mah brother Dolbert.”
 

Dolbert's grin was gap-toothed and wide. His head bobbed up and down as he cackled.
 

“And ah'm Luster P. Gooch.”
 

“Nice to meet you,” Jeremy said. “I'm Jeremy, and this is Isis.”
 

“Pleasure to make yore acquaintance. Y'say this vee-hicle of yores is up the road a piece?”
 

“Yeah, not very far.”
 

“Wull, let's go git it.”
 

They piled into the cab of the ancient tow truck, Jeremy squeezing next to Dolbert. Jeremy wrinkled his nose. Dolbert quite obviously had very little experience in the soap-and-water department.
 

Luster drove. “Where you folks from?”
 

“Uh, we're from the ... the eastern part of the country.”
 

“City folks?”
 

“Yeah.”
 

“Uh-huh. Whutchyall doin' round these parts?”
 

“Oh, just driving around. You know.”
 

“Uh-huh. We don't git many city folks out this way.”
 

“No?”
 

“Nope. Pretty quiet hereabouts.”
 

When they passed the dilapidated house, some of the children waved. Luster waved back.
 

“It's right along here somewhere,” Jeremy said.
 

“Cain't see nothin'.”
 

“Just a little farther. There, right there.”
 

Luster stopped the truck. “Whut the hay-ull is that?”
 

“That's our vehicle.”
 

“Wull, what the hay-ull
is
that thing?”
 

“It's a ... vehicle.”
 

“Dolbert, you ever seen anything like that?”
 

Dolbert shook his head vigorously.
 

“Ah never seen anything like that in mah life. Whut the
hay-ull
is it?” Luster adjusted his cap. “Wull, whutever it is, let's take her in.”
 

Luster backed the tow truck into the clearing, and everyone got out.
 

“There ain't even any proper wheels on this thing. Lookit these little tiny wheels, Dolbert.”
 

Dolbert chittered his amazement.
 

“Don't that beat all? How the heck are we gonna hook this thing up?”
 

Isis said, “There are two retractable towing brackets along this edge.”
 

Surprised, Jeremy said to her, “There are?”
 

Isis nodded. “They're controlled by one of the multifunction switches. I'll go deploy them.”
 

When the brackets popped out Luster said, “Wull, ain't that slicker than owl spit. I guess we kin tow it.”
 

* * * *

“Whut the hay-ull is this?”
 

Squatting by one of the on-board jacks, Jeremy peered under the craft. Luster was on his back underneath, a stained piece of cheesecloth between him and the hard concrete of the garage floor. He had been a while unbolting the access plate; now he stared up in bewilderment at the arcane mechanical works of the
Sidewise Voyager
.
 

“Who the hay-ull built this thing? I never seen nothin' like this in all mah born days.”
 

“Like I said, it's a foreign make.”
 

“Don't that beat all. Dolbert? Crawl under here and take a look at this stuff.”
 

Dolbert did. He shook his head and clucked.
 

“You ever see anything like this?”
 

Dolbert had to allow that he hadn't.
 

“You think you kin do anything with it?”
 

Dolbert shrugged.
 

Luster turned his head. “Dolbert usually does the foreign jobs when we get ‘em. He kin fix anything.”
 

“Can he fix this?” Jeremy asked.
 

“Dolbert, you think you kin do anything with this here contraption?”
 

Dolbert shrugged again, then nodded, chortling.
 

“Yeah, he figures he kin do it. You got an owner's manual for this here vee-hicle?”
 

“Uh, sort of. There's an on-board computer that has the complete technical specifications in its files. They're hard to understand, though.”
 

“Yeah, I seen them types before. All them foreign words. Does it got pictures?”
 

“Yeah, it had schematics, but they're not easy to figure out, either.”
 

“Wull, let's get a look at ‘em and see iffen we cain't figure this gizmo out.”
 

Jeremy led them into the craft. He sat them down at the control panel and knelt between the seats.
 

“Computer?”
 

“Yes?”
 

“Boot up the schematics out of the technical files and display the ones for the damaged components.”
 

“Who are these two Paleolithic specimens?”
 

“They're mechanics. Show ‘em the stuff. We gotta get this ship fixed.”
 

“My tech files weren't even written for
Homo sapiens
, let alone
Homo neanderthalensis
. Or are we talking
Australopithecus africanus
here?”
 

“Never mind that crap! Do it!”
 

“Aye aye, Captain.”
 

The Toshiba did it.
 

Twenty Five
 

 

 

 

Desert

 

The sun was declining when they had traversed the passes through the hills bordering the river. They came out into a wide valley. An intact temple, functional and unprepossessing, sat in the middle of it.
 

“That was simple enough,” Incarnadine said. “Though I probably would have given this dump a glance and gone on.”
 

“It is not what it appears,” Jonath said.
 

“I'll take your word for it. Can we get much closer without tripping the spells?”
 

“A little farther. Then it becomes quite dangerous.”
 

They walked on. Incarnadine leading his mount. The surrounding hills were eroded and bleak, etched with branching networks of gullies and ridges. Slides of talus cascaded down the slopes. The valley floor was level, cut with an occasional wadi and landscaped with heaps of rock.
 

Incarnadine stopped. “Strange. It looks different now.”
 

“Yes,” Jonath said. “It does.”
 

“I could swear it got bigger.”
 

They moved on. A few minutes later Incarnadine halted again. “Now, wait a minute. It looks bigger, but paradoxically enough it doesn't look any closer. How can that be?”
 

“All things are possible with Mordek.”
 

“Of course.”
 

They continued. The temple now seemed actually to recede from them. At the same time, it changed, growing more ornate and elaborate. The low sun caught the glint of gold.
 

“Some very fast remodelers at work over there. I wonder if they're getting time and a half.”
 

The pair proceeded on, to no avail. The temple grew no closer, yet ever more resplendent. Golden friezes bridged columns of decorated stone. Atop was a roof of beaten gold bordered by gilt cornices.
 

“Nice place,” Incarnadine said. “You've seen it like this before?”
 

“It is as it was in the days of my father's father.”
 

The sky darkened, and the ground began to shake. Wind ripped at them and the dust that blew pricked like needles on the skin.
 

The area around them lit up in a flash. A golden beam of energy had hit above them and splayed out, as around an invisible hemisphere. Another came, then another, each hitting with an explosive concussion like thunder.
 

“Nothing like getting right to the point,” Incarnadine said.
 

“Your forfending spells are potent,” Jonath said. “Otherwise, we would be dead. You are indeed a powerful sorcerer.”
 

“So far, so good. But that was just an opening gambit, I fear.”
 

The ground trembled. Gouts of fire shot out of rents in the ground. The wind's force increased, and vague shapes began to fill the air, diaphanous things swooping and soaring. Eidolons appeared on the ground, and some of these coalesced into substantial figures. Some were winged, some not. Most had scales, some the heads of hawks and the bodies of two-legged lizards. All bore swords as they advanced on the approaching pair.
 

Incarnadine drew his sword. It was a magnificent thing, agleam with its own light, the blade of steel burnished to a mirror finish and the hilt wrought into silver involutes that defied the eye. He swung it and the air vibrated.
 

A hawk-head approached and slashed at him with a curving blade. He fended off the attack easily, then pointed the sword at the thing. A bolt of blue energy jumped from sword point to creature, and the latter exploded.
 

“Magnificent,” Jonath said.
 

“It ought to be. I've been doing this silly bullshit for years.”
 

A scaled one charged at him brandishing long and short swords. Incarnadine didn't wait to engage it; he pointed the sword and let fly. The thing resisted disintegrating, but didn't survive the second bolt.
 

Great birds stooped and dove, some attacking Jonath. Incarnadine had to be quick with the sword. Huge wings flapped in time with explosions of grue, and the stink of burnt flesh and feathers filled the air.
 

More airborne attacks came at them, these timed with ground advances. Blue bolts flashed left and right, into the air and at the ground as slithering things appeared: serpents with tails of fire. Other phenomena materialized—windmills of energy, blades chopping toward them; green ropes of luminescence that came at their legs and tried to ensnare; a poisonous orange mist that seared the lungs and scratched at the eyes. Hail the size of melons fell, shattering on the rocks. More golden fingers of energy shot out from the temple.