Man From Mundania

  “ 'Punzel's got a lot of thoughts in her little head,” Grundy agreed. “But her hair stops most of them from getting out, fortunately.”

  “Unlike Grundy's big mouth,” Rapunzel retorted, “which lets everything out, ready or not.”

  Grundy put his thumbs up beside his ears, waggling his fingers at her. She responded by sticking out her tongue at him. Again, Grey felt the gesture though he couldn't see it. This seemed to be just another incidental aspect of the magic of Xanth.

  “Hey, I thought you two liked each other!” Grey said.

  “No we don't,” Grundy said, glowering.

  “That's true,” Rapunzel agreed with her teeth clenched.

  “But—”

  “We love each other!” they exclaimed together, and broke out laughing.

  Ivy laughed too. “I guess you walked into that one, Grey,” she said.

  “I guess I did,” he agreed ruefully.

  “They do that to anyone who hasn't known them before,” Ivy continued. “Before they got together, Grundy had a loud mouth and little thought, while 'Punzel had vice versa. Now he thinks more and she talks more, and they overlap quite a bit.”

  “Oh, you told!” Grundy exclaimed, while Rapunzel blushed. “And you said I had a big mouth!”

  Ivy looked flustered. “What I meant by 'overlap’ was—”

  Rapunzel could no longer stifle her giggle.

  “Gotcha!” Grundy said.

  Grey stifled a grin. So it wasn't just newcomers who got teased! “But about what Rapunzel thought of—if ComPewter knows about me, should we just walk into his lair?”

  Ivy considered. “I think Pewter wants us to come to him. I have the feeling that we shall have to do some dealing to get our information. So we have to go in. It isn't as if my folks don't know where I am, this time.”

  Grey realized that the King of Xanth could probably make a lot of trouble for the machine, if sufficiently annoyed. The machine surely knew that. Maybe that was enough of a backup.

  “But if push comes to shove,” she continued, “we can coordinate on some plan to overcome the evil machine.”

  “But he will overhear whatever we plan!”

  She brought up her right hand, putting her two larger fingers together with her thumb in the sign for no.

  Now he understood! Grey nodded, not making a big thing of it because he realized that someone might be magically watching or listening. They did have a secret language, thanks to that episode in Mundania! He rehearsed the signs in his mind, hoping he remembered enough to be intelligible.

  They resumed their walk. “Was that a magic gesture?” Rapunzel inquired softly in his ear.

  “Not exactly,” he murmured. “But if you see us moving our hands when we're with Com-Pewter, pay no attention so the machine doesn't catch on.”

  “Very well,” she agreed, perplexed.

  The path was devious, but in due course they arrived at the cave of the dread machine. It seemed to be guarded by an invisible giant, but they were not affrighted. They knew that the giant was there only to stampede travelers into the cave where Com-Pewter had power.

  “Hey, bigfoot, how ya doing?” Grundy called, his voice amazingly loud. Grey realized that Ivy was enhancing it for him so that he could reach the giant's distant head, up there in the clouds.

  “Aooooga!” the giant's voice dropped down. Apparently the giant's language, like his body, was unintelligible to normal folk here in regular Xanth.

  “Hey, that's great!” the golem replied. Grey remembered that Grundy could speak the languages of all living things.

  “Ask him if he knows Girard,” Ivy suggested.

  “Hey, empty-face! Know Girard?”

  A foghorn series of grunts came down. “Yes, he was a loner, always doing odd things,” Grundy translated.

  “That's the one!” Grey agreed. “But he's happy now.”

  “I'll tell him about how Girard went to the gourd.”

  Grundy went into a series of honks and gross gutturals.

  “Look, we have to get on with our business,” Ivy said impatiently. “You can stay out here and chat if you want, but Grey and I have to talk with Com-Pewter.”

  “I'm ready,” Grundy said. “Giants aren't much for conversation anyway. At least this one doesn't smell as bad as they usually do.”

  “I made him take a bath, last time,” Ivy explained.

  They entered the cave. It was dark near the opening, but lighted deeper in. They came to a chamber with polished walls, and sure enough, something very like a homemade computer sitting on the floor. This, then, was Com-Pewter.

  “Doesn't look like much to me,” Grey remarked. “I mean, I'm no computer engineer, but even I can see this equipment is obsolete.”

  “Watch it!” Grundy said. “This thing can hear you, and it can do things you wouldn't believe!”

  Grey had seen enough of the golem to realize that he had respect for almost nothing. If he was in awe of this crude machine, Com-Pewter must indeed have power.

  The pane of glass at the top of the assemblage lighted.

  WHO ARE YOU? it printed.

  “I am Princess Ivy,” Ivy said quickly. “I have brought my betrothed. Grey of Mundania, to talk with you.”

  AH, AT LAST! the screen printed.

  “All we want to know is, what do you know about Grey?” Ivy said. “He has a magic talent, and—”

  OF COURSE. WHAT IS HIS TALENT?

  Grey had a sudden suspicion. He flashed a no sign to Ivy. If the machine didn't know his talent, it was better to keep it in reserve.

  Ivy caught the signal. “Well, Pewter, we thought you would know. So we came to consult with you. After all, you were in touch with him in Mundania, weren't you?”

  YES AND NO.

  “You were not in touch?” Grey asked, startled. “But we saw—” He broke off, halted by Ivy's no sign. She was right; there was no point in telling this machine any more than they had to.

  YOU SAW WHAT?

  “We saw something that reminded us of you,” Grey said carefully. “Can you explain it?”

  I DO NOT HAVE TO EXPLAIN.

  “Then we shall depart,” Ivy said, turning to face the cave exit.

  PRINCESS DISCOVERS DOOR LOCKED, CAN NOT EXIT, the screen printed.

  A closed door appeared, shutting off the exit.

  “I don't see anything,” Grey said. “Come on. Ivy, let's go.” He took her arm and walked to the door. As he had expected, it was illusion; they walked right through it.

  A bell dinged. They turned to look back. IT WAS A BLUFF, the screen printed, I SHALL ANSWER ALL YOUR QUESTIONS.

  They returned, but Ivy made a sign he couldn't interpret. He assumed it meant something like “caution.” It was obvious that this was a treacherous and perhaps meanspirited machine.

  “Why does Grey have a talent, when he is Mundane?” Ivy asked.

  BECAUSE HE IS NOT MUNDANE.

  “But I am Mundane!” Grey exclaimed. “This is the first time I've set foot in Xanth. I didn't even believe in it, before!”

  TRUE, the screen responded. BUT NOT THE WHOLE TRUTH.

  “Then give us the whole truth!” Ivy said.

  YOU WILL NOT NECESSARILY LIKE IT.

  Grey exchanged another half glance with Ivy. What was this machine getting at?

  “Why not?” Ivy asked after a pause.

  LET'S MAKE A DEAL. TELL ME ALL YOU KNOW ABOUT GREY, AND I WILL TELL YOU ALL I KNOW.

  “How can you be ignorant of what we know, if you know things we don't?” Grey asked.

  I ASSURE YOU IT IS SO. I NEED TO KNOW YOUR STORY IN ORDER TO BE ASSURED OF THE RELEVANCE OF MINE. AFTER WE EXCHANGE INFORMATION WE SHALL HAVE TO DEAL AGAIN. THIS IS WHAT YOU WILL NOT NECESSARILY LIKE.

  Again they considered. It seemed to Grey that if the machine tried something they objected to, like conjuring a monster, he could stop it by using his talent to null Com-Pewter himself. This would be as effective if the machine knew his talent as if it did no
t. Perhaps more effective, because of the psychological element.

  He caught Ivy's eye again. She nodded. They would deal.

  “We agree,” Grey said. “We will tell you what we know, and then you will tell us what you know, with no concealment. But we make no commitment about dealing thereafter.”

  AGREED. START WITH YOUR LOCATION AND THE MANNER YOU CONTACTED MY EMISSARY.

  Grey started in. He described his origin in Mundania, and the way he had installed the new program and then encountered a series of odd girls before meeting Ivy. He concluded by telling of his magic talent.

  AMAZING! I KNEW YOU WOULD HAVE MAGIC, BUT NOT THAT IT WOULD BE MAGICIAN CLASS. PERHAPS SOME MUNDANE INTERACTION ENHANCED IT. THIS IS COMPLETELY POSITIVE.

  “Your turn. Pewter,” Ivy said grimly.

  IT WILL BE MORE TELLING IF I DRAMATIZE THE ORIGIN.

  “Do it any way you want,” Grey said. “Just give us the full information.”

  The screen changed color. It became a picture of a dark lake in a cave, in shades of gray. Print flashed over the picture: THE TIME OF NO MAGIC.

  “What?” Grey asked.

  PRINCESS IVY WILL EXPLAIN WHILE I SHOW THE SCENES, the screen printed.

  “It was before my time,” Ivy said. “In fact, before my father's time. Something happened, and the magic of all Xanth turned off.” As she spoke, the scene shifted to show limp tangle trees and bedraggled dragons, all suffering from the loss of the magic that sustained them. “I think it only lasted for a few hours, but it was awful.

  Xanth was dying. Then the magic came back on, and it hasn't been off since—but things weren't the same. The Gorgon had stoned a whole lot of men, and they all came back to life when the magic went and stayed alive when it returned. But the magic creatures and plants were pretty much the same. Apparently it was only temporary magic that got nulled. But the Forget Spell on the Gap Chasm took a horrible jolt, and it began to break up, and now it's gone. My father was born right after that; the ogres marked his birthday wrong on their calendar; they always were somewhat ham-handed.”

  Meanwhile the scene on the screen, which resembled nothing so much as a television movie before the days of color, had completed its scan of the devastation wreaked by the loss of magic, and returned to the subterranean pool. From this pool two figures struggled. One was a man of healthy middle age; the other was a rather pretty young woman. Others were emerging from the pool, including some monsters, but the scene oriented on these two. They seemed not to get along very well; they gesticulated as if telling each other to go away. But the man found a ledge leading up a river tunnel, and the woman followed.

  Then Grey realized that there were subtitles. He moved closer to the screen with Ivy so that they could read the words, for they were in much -smaller print than before, so as not to obscure the picture.

  LOOK, the bedraggled woman was saying, YOU DON'T LIKE ME AND I DON'T LIKE YOU, BUT WE CAN GET OUT OF HERE FASTER IF WE COOPERATE. ONCE THE MAGIC RETURNS WE WILL BOTH BE FINISHED; YOU KNOW THAT.

  The man in the picture considered. VERY WELL—WE SHALL COOPERATE UNTIL WE GET OUT OF XANTH. THEN WE GO OUR OWN WAYS.

  THAT'S FINE! she agreed.

  They hurried on up the river. A monster appeared like a twisted small sphinx. I'LL RESHAPE IT, the woman said.

  She gestured.

  But nothing happened. OH, I FORGOT! THERE IS NO MAGIC! THAT'S WHY WE WERE ABLE TO ESCAPE FROM THE BRAIN CORAL'S STORAGE POOL.

  BUT WE DON'T KNOW WHEN THE MAGIC WILL RETURN, the man reminded her. WE HAVE TO KEEP MOVING OR THE CORAL WILL RECAPTURE US!

  As they talked, Grey found himself getting used to the printed dialogue, and it seemed increasingly as if he actually heard them speak. The scene became real for him, as was often the case when he watched movies.

  “But I'm getting tired!” the woman protested. “I'm not used to terrain like this!”

  “What do you want, woman—for me to carry you?” he demanded irately. “I'm tired myself!”

  “Only to slow the pace a little. Look, we can't possibly get all the way to Xanth border afoot without resting; it will be better to set a pace we can maintain so we can go farther without collapsing.”

  The man considered. “You are correct.” He slowed the pace.

  TIME PASSES, the screen said, the picture fading out.

  Then it showed the two emerging into daylight. They were obviously both quite fatigued. They fetched some sodden pillows from a defunct pillow bush and lay down to rest and then to sleep.

  It was early morning, and evidently cold. There were no blankets, and the pillows were falling apart. Finally they embraced, not with any passion but to conserve their body warmth, and slept.

  TIME PASSES.

  The next scene showed the two back on their feet, bedraggled but moving better. They found stray items of food, snatching spoiling pies from bushes and eating as they traveled.

  Then they encountered the Gap Chasm.

  “We forgot about this!” the woman exclaimed, appalled. In that moment in the bright daylight, she looked almost familiar, but Grey could not quite place the connection. Certainly he had known no one in Xanth then; he hadn't been alive!

  “Naturally,” the man agreed gruffly. “That idiot detonated the most powerful Forget Spell ever forged in it; it will be centuries before that dissipates, if ever.”

  The woman nodded grimly. “The same idiot who introduced Millie the Maid to the Zombie Master. I would have married him, in due course, if he hadn't been smitten by her! How could a Magician fall for a nothing like her?”

  “The Zombie Master and Millie the Ghost!” Ivy exclaimed. “They did live in that time, before they came to ours!”

  The man smiled. “She had a talent. She needed nothing else.”

  “Oh, yes—the talent of sex appeal! But she'd be just as drab as I am now, if she were here without her magic!”

  The man eyed her. “Indubitably true. Now don't misunderstand me; I regard you as a bad attitude that walks like a girl, but physically you are not drab.”

  “Well, the same to you! Who are you to talk? Everything you touch fouls up! But you're hardly ugly, physically.”

  “Oh?” he inquired, annoyed. “Well, things are supposed to foul up; that's my talent. And not only are you not drab, you are in fact quite shapely, in your fashion.”

  “Is that so?” she demanded angrily. “You are the worst villain on the scene! But actually you're handsome!”

  It was obvious by the man's sinister expression that he intended to strike back at her hard. “I would even go so far as to call you beautiful,” he said with calculated affront. “Only those rags you're in detract.”

  She was almost speechless with rage. She tore off her remaining clothes and stood naked. “Well, now I'm out of these rags: I dare you to repeat that!”

  “I repeat it,” he said nastily, eying her thoroughly so as to be absolutely certain. “I had supposed that you used your talent to reshape your body to better advantage, but I know now that you came by it naturally. You can't claim the excuse of Sorceress-level enhancement.”

  “I'm no Sorceress!” she screamed in his face. “You think everybody is Magician level like you?”

  “That is a matter of opinion. I have a right to mine. Your magic is Sorceress level.”

  The woman opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

  She jumped at him, clawing at his chest, but succeeded only in ripping away much of his own tattered clothing.

  Then he caught her wrists and held her helpless. “Furthermore,” he said, his face close to hers, “you think you lack sex appeal, but last night when we slept embraced for warmth it was all I could do to refrain from taking advantage of you.”

  “Well, why didn't you?” she cried. “It's your business to foul things up! Do you foul yourself up too, so you can't even do wrong by a woman in your power?”

  “I foul things up magically,” he retorted. “This had nothing to do with magic! You have natural sex appeal, d
eny it as you will!”

  “Well, you have it yourself, so there! You know what I think? I think that, deny it as you will, you have a fundamentally decent streak in you! Otherwise, last night—I mean it isn't as if I would have resisted!”

  They stood there, chest to chest, each angrier than the other. “You female dog!” he said. “I have half a mind to—”

  “So do I! So do I, you male dog!” she retorted.

  “You probably wouldn't even slap me if I kissed you, you shameless creature.”

  “I dare you to kiss me, you hypocrite!”

  Their lips met. He tried to sneer to show how little he cared; she tried to make mush lips to show how indifferent she was. They both bungled it badly in their fury. The kiss lasted a long time, and the shameful truth was that it was a rather intense and effective example of its breed.

  “Understand, I have no respect for you at all,” he told her after the long moment. His hair was ruffled and his face was flushed, as if he had just been exposed to a truly repulsive experience. “I am doing this only because the sight and feel of your body overwhelms my better judgment.”

  “Your embrace destroys any judgment I have!” she shot back. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks had what would have been rosy highlights in a color scene, as if she had just experienced something too awful to recognize. “I detest what you are making me so eager to do!”

  “I will be thoroughly disgusted with myself tomorrow,” he said ominously.

  “I will feel totally without virtue, tomorrow,” she replied grimly.

  “Just to be quite certain we understand how bad this is,” he said, “we had better try it another time.”

  “Just so we never so far forget ourselves as to make this mistake again,” she agreed.

  They kissed again, and sure enough, it was even worse than before. Both of them were breathless when it finished, their chests heaving as if they had been running.

  “I am appalled to think that I am doing this with you,” he said, holding her more closely than was necessary for support. “With anyone else it could be worthwhile.”

  “Well, I'm not taking this lying down,” she said, disengaging so she could lie down.

  He joined her. “And when I realize that we could have been making good our escape from Xanth, instead of wasting our time like this—”