Bearing an Hourglass

Norton proceeded through the garden, handicapped by its unfamiliarity. He stumbled against the footing for a potted tree. Well, now he was alone; he turned about and walked forward.

  A man stepped out before him from an alcove in the estate wall. ".sonorhC"

  Norton froze. This man recognized him! "Who—?"

  The man only smiled. Then Norton saw his eyes. They were like glassy lenses, with dim red lights behind. Demon eyes!

  He had been caught by a demon lurking in human form. Now, in the immediate vicinity of Chronos, the demon could interact somewhat on his terms. "!yortseD" it said and grabbed for Norton.

  That was warning enough. Norton let his cloak spread out beyond his suit. The man-demon's hands aged and weakened as they came into contact with that cloak. Hastily he hauled them back, cursing backward.

  ".olleH"

  Both men turned. It was the little girl. She had followed Norton, perhaps curious about the odd man.

  The demon leaped for her. The girl shrieked but was caught. "!lliK" the demon cried. He drew a wicked-looking knife and held it poised near the child's face while his other hand held her by the hair.

  Norton knew he would not be able to disarm the demon before the girl was stabbed. She was a hostage—and the demon would not hesitate to kill her. True demons were minor incarnations of evil, serving only the major Incarnation.

  "What do you want?" Norton asked.

  ",ereh yats tsuJ" the demon said.

  Stay here—until it was too late—or early—to stop the other demon's change of the capsule. Or until the last power of the Hourglass gave out. Either way, Satan's victory. He could not tolerate that.

  But if he acted, the child would die. He couldn't tolerate that either.

  Time wavered—and that gave him a notion. He concentrated, or rather relaxed, letting time flow forward.

  The demon put away his knife and let the girl go, bounding back to Norton's vicinity. This time Norton grabbed the demon, his white cloak extended, and held him fast.

  The demon screamed. "You're killing my body!" Indeed, the body was aging. The skin wrinkled; the clothing rotted and fell away. In moments the shriveled body collapsed. It had died of old age.

  Norton dropped it. The girl was staring, horror-stricken. "You dried him up!" she cried.

  "I had to. He was going to hurt you."

  "Say—you don't talk funny any more!" Norton remembered. He concentrated, reversing time again. It was like picking up a monstrous load after inadequate respite.

  "!erom yna ynnuf klat t'nod uoy—yaS" the girl exclaimed.

  Norton took her by the arm and led her away. He knew the demon, now separated from the ambience of Chronos, would not recover—except that that execution would be undone by the resumed retreat of time. Avoidance was therefore best.

  "!pu mih deird uoY" the girl cried, horrified.

  Something nagged at Norton. It was the demon's last cry: "You're killing my body!" Of course that was literally true; a demon could not take physical form on Earth. Only in very special circumstances did that happen. The demons he had seen before were mere evil spirits, with no substance. This one had had substance—because it had taken possession of a living being.

  That meant the demons could act physically here. They could not hurt him, Norton—but they could harm others. That made Norton vulnerable. They could take hostages.

  This was too much for him to handle alone. He had dispatched one demon—or at least sent it back to Hell by destroying its living host—but he couldn't afford to chance that again. He had rescued the child, but there were too many other potential victims, and he knew that the minions of Satan would use them. He didn't worry about destroying the living hosts, for he knew that a demon could enter a human body only when invited, and that only the worst elements of society would ever do that inviting. But he couldn't stand to have the blood of one innocent victim on his conscience.

  "Go home," he urged the girl. "Find your family and get far away from here. Fast. There is evil afoot."

  Wordlessly, the child nodded. Then she ran, taking off backward so fast her hair flung out behind her head, in the direction of her flight.

  Norton, reluctantly, returned to Agleh. "You were right," he admitted. "I can't handle it alone. Those demons are taking possession of human bodies and they are unscrupulous. But I'm still not at all certain you can help, and I don't want to risk—"

  She waved aside his incomprehensible explanation.

  TELL ME THE DETAILS, she wrote.

  His eye fell on his ring. "Okay, Sning?" he asked.

  Squeeze.

  "She can really help?"

  Squeeze.

  Agleh pointed to the ring. "?cigaM" she asked.

  "Cigam," he agreed. And explained briefly about Sning.

  "?pleh I nac woh ,gninS" she asked the ring.

  Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

  "He can't answer that sort of question," Norton explained. Then, on paper: YES-NO ANSWERS ONLY.

  ".yrroS .hO" She considered for a moment, then wrote: CAN SNING HELP?

  Squeeze. It seemed Sning could read.

  Norton was startled. "Directly? Physical action?"

  Squeeze.

  Time was running short. Together they worked out a campaign. The problem, Sning explained when they found the correct questions, was that demons could emulate human beings by taking possession of human hosts. The minions of Satan could no longer be readily distinguished from innocent people. Norton and Agleh had to find a simple way to tell humans and demons apart, so that they could leave the former alone and eliminate or avoid the latter.

  Sning's poison could make a human being very sick, but should have no effect on a true demon, since that was only a spirit. The spirit demons were patrolling the area, trying to spot Chronos, while the demon-possessed bodies were acting to block him physically. There was no telling how many of each there were, but probably enough to do the job. Satan would have sent in the largest number immediately after the capsule was changed, as that was the critical moment; the network six hours after the event had been relatively thin.

  Norton had presumed that the possessed people were worshipers of Satan, doomed to Hell and not worth his sympathy. But now he wondered: could demons somehow borrow the bodies of good people too? Sning reassured him; they could not. Goodness was anathema to the creatures of Hell. But his concern about the hostaging of innocent people in the area was valid, Sning agreed. Only the Senator himself was free of that threat, as Satan would not harm the man whose life he was trying to save for worse things.

  Norton couldn't tell the innocents from the possessed, at a distance, and he couldn't afford to get up close without knowing. How could he identify the possessed ahead of time and get by them?

  "The regular demons are really thickening," Norton remarked, glancing out the window. "There's one patrolling the street now."

  Agleh looked. "?erehW"

  He pointed. "There."

  She squinted, ".gnihtyna ees t'nod I"

  The demon was quite plain. Sning squeezed three times. "You mean she can't see it?" Norton asked, startled.

  Squeeze.

  He turned to her. "There's a spirit demon there—but you can't see it."

  ",ti ees t'nac I" she agreed.

  "But there is one there. Sning can tell you."

  She looked doubtful, so Sning uncurled and crossed to Agleh's waiting hand. Like Orlene, she was not afraid of small serpents.

  "!etuc woh ,hO" she exclaimed.

  Sning curled around one of her fingers. "Ask him a yes-no question," Norton said.

  "?ereht nomed a ereht sI" she asked. Then she jumped. "!em dezeeuqs eH"

  "How many times?"

  ",ecnO" she said, holding up one finger.

  "That means yes. Sey."

  ".ees I ,hO" She was pleased. "!mih peek dluoc I hsiw I"

  Keep Sning? "Well, you might borrow him—so you can spot the demons. I can see them without Sning's help." That seemed to be another power confe
rred on him by the mantle of Chronos.

  ",seY" she agreed.

  Now it jelled. Agleh and Sning would scout the Senator's estate, locating all the demons and possessed people. The minions of Satan would not suspect them, because Agleh was obviously a normal person, not an Incarnation. She would report to Norton, who would then move in to the capsule at the critical time, avoiding the pre-spotted demons. Sning would warn Agleh of any threat to her. With luck, there would be no trouble, and the deed would be done before Satan knew it.

  Then at last Norton would be able to relax. He could return to his own time—and never see Agleh again. That he regretted; these few hours had brightened when she appeared.

  He knew he shouldn't, but he asked her anyway, on the paper: DO YOU LIKE WILDERNESS?

  She replied: I LOVE IT.

  Why did he torment himself?

  "!og s'teL" she said briskly, heading for the door.

  Norton started to go with her, then stopped. He couldn't show his face near the Senator's estate until they had the demons posted. "I'll wait here," he said somewhat lamely.

  ",eyB" she agreed and backed out.

  Norton watched at the window as she went out on the lighted street. The demon was still patrolling, but paid Agleh no attention. He relaxed slightly; it was working!

  He watched Agleh out of sight, then paced restlessly. The woman had passed the demon, and that was good—but now he wondered just how many of Satan's minions in whatever form mingled with the living human beings regularly. Did the Prince of Evil normally keep an eye on the affairs of the mundane world? How could any person ever be sure that evil was not just around the corner? It was a disquieting notion.

  The clock on the wall wavered, and he refocused his concentration; he was tiring, or the Hourglass was, and now that he had nothing to rev him up, it was becoming more difficult to keep the reverse flow going. He seemed to have periods when it went automatically and periods when it required all his effort. But he felt his resources giving out; it was as if he had been driving all night or running all day. He had only an hour to go, but now it seemed like more than the time that had passed.

  He continued to pace, fighting to maintain control, but the clock wavered more frequently. He no longer had Agleh's direct support of will; maybe that was making a difference. He was in danger of giving the victory to Satan by default.

  Now he wondered: was it really worth the effort? Would it be all that bad if Satan won? It would be so easy just to let it slide, to let the normal flow of time resume. He realized his attitude was similar to that of a freezing man who just wanted to sleep—a sleep that would never end—but somehow he didn't care. He was so tired; his will was exhausted.

  He relaxed, heedless of the changing of the clock. He sank into a chair, his eyes glazing. This apartment reminded him of Orlene's—she who had loved her baby too well and died of it, because of the evil in the family genes of Gawain the Ghost. That evil, traveling down the lineage, taking its dreadful toll of each generation. Where had it originated? Where would it end?

  Evil? It had, of course, originated with the Prince of Evil. It would end there, too. From Evil came evil, and to Evil it returned. Without the Demon of Evil, the DEvil, the Devil, it would not exist, for he was the Incarnation of it. From him and to him—

  Something coalesced. The evil that had been responsible for Orlene's death—it had had to come from Satan!

  Suddenly Norton was up and alert. Satan had cost him Orlene—and he owed Satan for that. Now he had a chance to repay the Prince of Evil by foiling this present mischief.

  The flow of time reversed again. The clock resumed its backward march. Norton knew he would make it through now. Hate would accomplish what duty could not.

  At 5:25 A.M. Agleh returned. "!lla meht dettops evah eW" she exclaimed. And she grabbed pen and paper and sketched a map, showing both spirits and possessed by marking their locations with little S's and P's.

  Just in time! "I've got to get into that building soon." Norton said, aware that she could not follow all his backward words, but would pick up the sense of them. "I need to know every demon!"

  "llufrednow saw gninS" she said, perfecting the map.

  Norton studied the pattern of S's and P's. "But if they're moving, they won't be in the same places," he said, concerned.

  She figured this out. ",staeb klaw yehT" she explained, sketching in light lines to mark territories, ".htrof dna kcaB"

  "Oh." Walking beats—yes, of course. So there would be fair continuity. All he had to do was time his passage. It was like a maze or a video game; if he maneuvered deftly enough, he should score.

  He concentrated on the map, aligning the details with what he knew of the region, memorizing the pattern. It wasn't difficult; there were only six possessed and six spirits, and his fatigue of will was not fatigue of mind. Six and six—of course. 666 was Satan's personal number. But where was the third six?

  Well, he judged that he could make the run in about six minutes. Maybe he'd better plan on that. It might have the effect of completing Satan's number, so that there would be no infernal alarm. The period of backward time was also scheduled for six hours. One way or another, it matched.

  Six minutes—that would leave him no margin for error. Any significant delay would cost him the mission. But as he pondered it, he became more certain this was the key. Play it by Satan's rules—and Satan's defeat would be complete.

  He explained this to Agleh, writing out essential words to be sure she had it straight. ",uoy htiw og ll'I" she said.

  "I don't think that's wise. You've been there, scouting it. If the demons see you again, so close to the zero hour, they'll be alerted."

  ",rebmemer t'now yehT" she pointed out.

  "They won't remember," he repeated thoughtfully. But he wasn't sure of that. Most people seemed hardly aware of their backward progress, but the ones in his immediate vicinity were, and those ones had backward memory, as Agleh herself did. Also, these were not people, but Satan's demons and spirits, assigned to watch for him. If Agleh was seen with him now, the demons might manage to remember backward just enough to make trouble.

  He pointed this out to her. Reluctantly, she agreed. Then she brightened. "!noisrevid a trats ll'I" she said.

  A diversion. That could indeed make it easier for him—but it would be risky for her.

  "Itsisni I" she said.

  He looked at his watch. Time was shortening; his final six minutes were almost upon him. He didn't have time to argue.

  ",pleh lliw gninS" she said, holding up her hand with Sning.

  He had forgotten to take the little serpent back! But it was true; Sning could be a big help to her, since the little snake could detect invisible spirits. Norton could recover his ring once the mission was done. "Okay," he said with some misgiving.

  "!yakO" she echoed. She gave him another kiss somewhat less backward; she was getting used to these interactions.

  It was time. They moved out smartly. Agleh set out ahead to intercept the first possessed. Sning would signal her if she needed to distract the man; if not, she would simply proceed to the second, in effect running interference. Norton followed more slowly, trying to look like a casual passer-by.

  The problem was that they both had to walk backward, so he couldn't see what happened to Agleh. He just had to assume that his way would be open, thanks to her and Sning.

  He entered the first possessed's beat and backed through it without challenge. This was on the main street, and normal people were occasionally passing—early risers catching the local matter-mitter before the throng. He hoped he seemed like one of them. It was working—so far.

  Now he was entering the beat of a spirit. According to his estimate, the spirit should be at the far side of it, facing away, so wouldn't see him. Sure enough—he spied the spirit's tail as the creature backed toward him. He schooled himself to make no overt reaction; that would be a giveaway, since ordinary people could not see such creatures. Of course the spirit would re
cognize him anyway, if it turned and saw him—but it was unlikely to turn, because of the regularity of its beat. Evil spirits, as he understood it, did not have much imagination or initiative. Only strange behavior on his part would cause them to break their routine—such as reacting to the sight of one.

  He reached the estate. Though there were twelve of Satan's minions on patrol, they were not all in one place; they were spread fairly thin through and about the estate, to cover all of it. They knew he would exploit any gap in their coverage. He had only three to worry about along this route, and now he had navigated two. The third was another spirit in the hall beyond the side entrance. He probably could not avoid that one—but with only two minutes remaining till zero-time, maybe that one could not spread the alarm in time to do Satan much good. This was the chancy part!

  He opened the door behind him and backed in. This was a servants' entrance, and there weren't many servants about at this early hour. Norton turned and proceeded forward; it was more comfortable, and he knew he would not fool the spirit anyway. He moved through the labyrinth of the servants' region, guessing where the spirit would be and avoiding that region.

  He guessed wrong. The spirit appeared, did a double take, and fled through the wall. Norton was not reassured. Ninety seconds remained—was it too much time? Could the spirit summon overwhelming counterforce before zero moment? Had he given Satan too much leeway?

  He entered the pantry where the bottle of capsules was stored. No spirit guarded it now; he had spooked that one away. He looked at the bottle—

  There were six horned, barbtailed feline creatures there. Hellcats—that was the final complement of the 666!

  The Hellcats spied him and snarled. They formed a semicircle near the shelf of the capsule, tails switching. Each had saber-toothed tusks and great blood red claws. They looked deadly.

  But this was Earth, not Hell, Norton reminded himself. No true Hellcats existed here. These had to be spirit cats, powerless against any living person physically, and impotent against Chronos in any way. They represented another lie from the Father of Lies, a bluff to confuse Chronos. All they could do was attempt to distract him—and that would fail.