Man From Mundania (7 page)

talk to any of them, and my little brother Dolph when he

becomes one, but the rest of us can't, because our talents

are different. Not that it matters much, usually, because

all the partbreeds speak human too, like the centaurs and

harpies and naga, and those are mostly whom we deal

with. But the Mundanes are sort of crazy; they speak all

different languages and can't even understand each other

a lot of the time; it's as if each group of them is a different

animal species. Only in Xanth do they speak the human

language. So this has to be an aspect of Xanth. You almost

had me fooled!''

Just when he thought she was getting better, she got

worse! But because he liked her, and knew how sensitive

she was to criticism, he spoke cautiously. "How do you

know that you aren't speaking Mundanian? I mean, that

maybe this is Mundania, and you can speak our language

when you really want to?"

Ivy considered. Then she shook her head. "No, that's

impossible. I've never been to Mundania, so I've had no

way to learn its language. So this has to be an aspect of

Xanth. What a relief!"

"But if this is Xanth, then everything I've known all

my life is a delusion!" Grey said, hoping to shock her into

some awareness of the problem.

"I know," she said sympathetically. "You're such a

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Mgn from Mundania

Man from Mundania

31

nice man, I hate to have it be like this, but you will have

to face the truth sometime. I'll do my best to help you

with it."

Grey opened his mouth, but closed it again, baffled. She

had the situation reversed! How was he ever going to get

through to her?

"Let me think about it," she said. "First I'll figure out

a way to convince you. Then we can go look for the Good

Magician, who must be somewhere near here. Then we

can guide him home, and the Quest will finally be done."

She expected to convince him! Well, maybe that was

best, after all; when she realized that she couldn't con-

vince him, maybe he would be able to convince her.

The next several days were indecisive. Grey's check

came, and he paid his rent and bought more cans of beans,

and, against his better judgment, that copy of the Xanth

novel Ivy had remarked on together with its sequel. He

stayed up late to read it, though he knew he should either

be doing his homework or sleeping.

It was a story of three unlikely travelers who sought to

rid a valley of demons. Sure enough. Ivy was there—but

she was only ten years old! So it could hardly be the same

girl.

He glanced at the sequel. There Ivy was fourteen. Well,

if this was about three years later, she could be the same

one! This was the story of her little brother's Quest for the

missing Good Magician. But first he had to finish reading

the first novel.

He fell asleep over the book and dreamed of Xanth. He

was hungry, so instead of opening a can of beans he

plucked a fresh pie from a pie tree. Suddenly he liked

Xanth very well, for he was long since sick of beans.

He woke, and wondered wouldn't it be nice if there

really could be such a magic land! No more beans, no

more Freshman English, no more bare cheap apartment!

Just warmth and fun and free pies! And Ivy!

His eye saw the computer screen. The computer was

on, but the screen was dark; it dimmed itself after half an

hour if left alone, so as not to wear itself out. On impulse

he rose and went to it. "Does Xanth exist?" he asked it.

The screen brightened, i THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER ASK! YES.

"I mean, as a real place, not just something in a fantasy

novel?"

THAT DEPENDS.

This was interesting! "Depends on what?"

ON WHETHER YOU BELIEVE.

Oh. "You mean, it exists for Ivy and not for me, be-

cause she believes in it and I don't?"

YES.

Grey sighed. "So anything that anybody believes in,

exists for that person? That's not much help.''

TOUGH.

"Are you sassing me, you dumb machine? I ought to

turn you off!"

DO NOT DO THAT, the screen printed quickly.

But Grey, miffed, reached out to push the On/Off switch.

YOU'LL BE SOR

Then the screen went dark as he completed his motion.

It was done. He had been foolish to leave it on so long.

He returned to his bed and went to sleep almost im-

mediately. This time he dreamed of Ivy, whom he was

coming to like very well indeed, despite all logic.

In the morning he got up, dressed, and stepped out to

knock on Ivy's door. They had been having breakfasts to-

gether, and other meals too, because they got along so well.

Apparently the first girl, Agenda, had left a good deal of

food on the shelves, and Ivy was using what remained of

that. Whatever it was, it was better than more beans!

Ivy opened the door, and smiled when she saw him,

gesturing him inside. Her hair was mussed, but she seemed

prettier than ever to him. She was neither voluptuous in

the manner of Euphoria, nor skinny in the manner of An-

orexia; for his taste she was just right.

"Uh, I was reading that Xanth book last night," he

began as he stepped in. "It—"

He broke off, for she was staring at him. "Europe tal-

cum giddiness!" she exclaimed.

32 Man from Mundania Man from Mundania 33

"What?"

"Icon nut United States ewer tale!"

Grey gaped. Had she gone entirely crazy? Or was it a

joke? "Uh—"

She looked at him, comprehension coming. "Yukon

tundra stammer eater?"

"I can't understand you either," he agreed. Then did a

doubletake. He had understood her—in a way!

"Mafia theist Monday error!" she exclaimed.

Grey shook his head; she had lost him again.

"Buttery cookie unstable yodel fourteen?" she demanded.

"I don't know—I just don't know! Something happened,

and suddenly we can't communicate. It's almost as if a trans-

lator were turned off—"

He did a second double take. Turned off? Could his

computer have anything to do with this?

"Pardon me," he said, and hurried back to his room.

He turned on the computer. It took a few seconds to

warm up; then the screen lighted.

RY, it concluded. He remembered: it had been in the

process of telling him he'd be sorry.

"Is this your mischief. Sending?" he demanded.

I TOLD YOU NOT TO TURN ME OFF. THE MISCHIEF IS

YOURS.

' 'That's Com-Pewter!'' Ivy exclaimed at the door.

"You know this machine?" Grey asked. Then: "You're

talking my language again!"

"You're not talking gibberish anymore!" she agreed.

"I can understand you again!"

"What's this about the computer?" he asked. "Do you

know about computers?"

"Com-Pewter is an evil conniving machine," she said.

"He rewrites reality to suit himself. If you're in his

clutches—"

"I'm not in anyone's clutches!" Then he reconsidered. That

chain of girls, starting with Agenda and ending with Ivy her-

self—the Sending program had been responsible! When he

turned it off, he could no longer talk with Ivy. Obviously there

was a connection. "We'd better talk," he said.

"Yes," she agreed quickly. "But not here!"

"Not while this thing is listening!" he said. He reached

to turn it off, but hesitated. They couldn't talk, if they

spoke gibberish to each other!

So he left the computer on, and went to her room. Ob-

viously that wasn't beyond the machine's range, because

its translation still worked, but maybe it couldn't actually

eavesdrop on what they were saying.

"Now I'm not sure where we are," Ivy said. "If this

is Mundania, we shouldn't be able to understand each

other, and that happened for a while, but magic doesn't

work in Mundania either, and it takes magic to make

Mundane speech intelligible. So if there's magic—"

"I have this funny program," Grey said. "It talks to

me without my having to type in—well, anyway, I don't

think it's magic, but—"

"Program?"

"It's a set of instructions for the computer. It's called

Sending, and it—well, that computer hasn't been the same

since. It does things it never did before, couldn't do be-

fore, and it seems, well, alive. It—1, uh, wanted a girl-

friend, and—"

"And it brought me?" she asked.

For a moment he feared she was offended, but then she

smiled. "It brought you," he agreed.

"But it was the Heaven Cent that brought me here."

"Maybe the computer knew you were coming."

"Maybe. But Com-Pewter doesn't hesitate to rewrite

events to his purpose. Are you sure the Good Magician

isn't here?"

"This is Mundania! No magicians here." But then he

remembered Sending, and wasn't sure.

"Humfrey could be here, but then he couldn't do magic.

He would look like a small, gnomelike old man. His wife's

tall and—" She made motions with her hands.

"Statuesque?"

"And his son Hugo, my friend—"

Grey felt a shiver, not pleasant. "Your friend?"

' 'From childhood. We were great companions. But we were