The Prophecy Machine (Investments) (10 page)

Finn sat up, blinked, grabbed for his fallen blade. He hurt too much, there was too much clatter pounding in his head to pass out. Howls, yowls, shrieks from all about. Yellow rowdies punched, yellow devils kicked, fought one another to escape the awful horror snapping at their heels, clawing at their backs.

Hurt toughies, dead toughies, utterly mad barbarians and fiends blocked the narrow way out. Fellows yet alive, true to their credo, stumbled about, hitting one another, going this way and that, like ale-besotted louts.

The monster, the beast, the copper-scaled creature loose among them, tore through bone and flesh like a razor gone berserk. The floor of the alley, every brick, every crack, every inch of the grime-encrusted walls turned a bloody crimson from the dying, from the dead. There were splatters and splotches, patches and drips, syrupy clots. And through it all, the rattle and the clatter and the snap, the
snick and the click of sharp teeth and the rip of iron claws …

“Get up man, not a moment to waste, we simply cannot hang around here!”

Finn found himself hauled off the ground and on his feet again, Sabatino's strong grip urging him down the cobbled street. Through sheer brute force, Sabatino had managed to kick a ragged hole in the fence that blocked the end of the alleyway. He squeezed his broader father through, and stood guard while Letitia and Finn came in behind.

“Oh, love, I thought you were stricken, I thought you were dead, I truly did, dear Finn!”

Letitia's face was drained of all color, her eyes full of dread.

“I'm not,” Finn said, “though I fear I came terribly close. Where's Julia Jessica Slagg? Is she harmed?”

“If you mean that fearsome device of yours,” Sabatino said, “she, it, or whatever in fiery hell it is, is fine. Nothing else is back there, everything is
meat.
”

Sabatino's eyes seemed to bore through the back of Finn's head. “You and I, sir, are going to have a long talk about this marvelous, mechanical killer of yours when we're safely out of here, you can count on that.”

“No we're not,” said Julia, scooting through Sabatino's legs, rattling on ahead, leaving bloody tracks. “We're not going to talk about
me
at all.”

“Damn my eyes!” Sabatino swept off his hat and stared in wonder. “The thing speaks, it talks as well as you and I!”

“It talks entirely too much,” Finn said, sending a withering look the lizard's way, “and, as ever, at all the wrong times. I suggest you get cleaned up, Julia. Moisture of any sort is not good for your parts.”

“If that's ‘Thank you, Julia, defender of the weak, the
frail, the helpless humankind,’ then you are quite welcome, Finn. I am glad to be of service anytime.”

“He really
is
grateful,” Letitia put in, “but you shouldn't talk like that.”

“Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!” Sabatino applauded. “The captain said you had a thing that sat atop your shoulder, but I scarcely believed him at the time. Poor fellow drinks, you know. What exactly is it? Whatever do you call it, Finn?”

“What I call it is none of your concern,” Finn said, feeling dizzy and weak now that the fight was over, and his attention was turned toward his bruises, abrasions, and sores. He was totally disgusted with the whole ridiculous event, with the town, with the Hatters, and especially with Sabatino himself.

“I'll trouble you to mind your own affairs,” he said, brushing some gross, unnamable filth from his clothes. “Do not ask me about my property again.”

He knew, though, that the lizard, so to speak, was out of the bag, there was no use trying to stuff it back again …

The towns, as towns are prone to do, began to meet the countryside; the crowded, sooty houses and grimy, odorous streets gave way to lonely, sooty houses, and unpaved, ill-smelling roads.

Desolation, it seemed, was the standard of beauty in Sabatino's land. There were no trees about, no brush, no foliage of any kind, nothing but a dull, brown furze that was clearly more dead than alive. Rocks, large and small, were key points of interest to the left and to the right. Finn guessed there were even more rocks ahead.

Finn, who had no sense at all of where they might be, was greatly surprised to see that their way led fairly close to the harbor itself. Over the roofs of country farms, he
recognized the high masthead of the
Madeline Rose
, crowded in among vessels of various size and shape. Beyond lay the sapphire blue of the Misty Sea, and a dazzling array of purple-tinted clouds. He squeezed Letitia's hand, and Letitia squeezed back.

“Beautiful sight, yes?” Sabatino set his hands on his hips and squinted at the sea. “The very best view of our lovely country, as anyone who visits us will tell you—the way
out
of here.”

“I have to agree,” Letitia said. “But what a peculiar thing for you to say.”

“Oh, really?” Sabatino raised a haughty brow. “And you are enjoying your stay so far, miss?”

“He has a valid point,” Finn said. “I never thought I'd say it, but the sea looks very good to me.”

“I have a point, as you say—I
live
here. I put up with this nonsense every day of my life.”

Letitia frowned. “Every day?”

“All right, not
every
day. It just seems like every day, I suppose. And stop looking over your shoulder. They won't try for us again. Rules are rules, you know.”

“What rules?” Finn asked, “What are you talking about?”

“I don't have the time, craftsman, to go into that. Father has had a very trying time. I would like to get him home.”

“Indeed,” Finn said. “Before you go, I'd be grateful if you'd tell us which road will lead us back to the ship. No offense, but I'm hoping not to spend another hour here.”

Sabatino stopped, facing Finn again. “Take any street you like. None will do you any good.”

Finn frowned. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means the hour is nearly five in the afternoon. Everything closes at 4:46 p.m. Stores, shops, stalls and bazaars,
streets and avenues. Whatever path you might take will be closed.”

“Why? Whatever for?”

“Because that's our custom, that's what we do.”

“And when does everything open again?”

“Why, at 4:46 in the morning, of course …”

Sabatino grinned, pleased at the shock and total desolation Finn displayed at the news. And even more delightful, the horror, the dismay, the total disbelief on the face of Letitia Louise.

Finn's hand trembled at the hilt of his sword. “I don't believe a word of this, Sabatino, not coming from you. I doubt you could tell the truth if you tried. Letitia and I will go on. I'm sure we'll find the roads aren't closed at all. And if it happens that they are, if there's a bare ounce of truth in what you say, we'll inquire about lodging and a decent meal. I'm certain there's at least one person in this dismal land of yours who will offer a stranger comfort for the night.”

Sabatino stared at Finn a moment, then his features broadened in a wicked, irritating smile.

“You think so, do you? Well,
craftsman
, that simply shows you're as great a fool as I imagined from the start.
No
one would offer you
comfort
, as you say, even if it wasn't after five, because this disgusting habit of hospitality, which appears to pervade elsewhere, is
not
practiced here.

“We have no homey little inns, hotels or such hovels as I've observed in foreign lands. You cannot eat or sleep in such a place in Port Nakeemo, or anyplace else in good Makasar.”

Sabatino's words caused Finn great alarm. He had thought the Master of Chairs feeble in the head, that of course there was
always
somewhere to stay, no matter where you went.

But what if Sabatino didn't lie? What if, for some bizarre, convoluted reason, he
was
telling the truth this time? What then of he and Letitia Louise, who was, even now, trembling visibly beside him, and not from the chill evening air?

“Why,” he asked, “Even if this—this insane custom of yours that turns away guests in your misbegotten land is real? Why does the town close up at four-forty—whatever you said? That makes no sense at all.”

“4:46. And it makes sense to us.”

“Yes, damn it all, but why?”

“Because the night belongs to them, that's why. Because they want it that way.”

“Who, those loonies in pointy hats? Snips and Clips, when do these fellows sleep?”

“Not them.”

“Who, then?”

“The Hooters.”

“Hooters … ?”

“Hatters have the day. Hooters have the night.”

Sabatino gave a mighty sigh, obviously tired of explaining everyday facts to strangers with little minds.

“Hatters keep the day, all right? At eventide, they give way to Hooters, and Hooters rule the night. And spare me any more questions, Finn. I am quite exhausted, and Father isn't well. Things are as they are, the way they've always been. It's foolish to question why.”

“Please don't ask him,” Letitia said, “I really don't think I want to know.”

“Not only a quite attractive Newlie,” Sabatino said, “but one with common sense as well.”

He studied Letitia with a practiced eye, a man with a bent for exploration, mapping out places he thought he'd like to see.

Finn was put out, and thoroughly annoyed with the fellow's
lies, his arrogant ways, his lecherous remarks, his lewd and obvious leers. There was no threat he could imagine that would make him linger in this most peculiar land.

“We'll be going,” he said, taking Letitia's hand. “I'm sure we'll find a place to stay with little trouble at all. If I see a—a Hooter, I'll run the fellow through.”

“You don't listen, do you, Finn?”

Sabatino squinted into the setting sun. His father had taken advantage of the stop to squat on the roughshod road. He had scarcely said a word since they left the outskirts of town. Still, Finn decided, the old man seemed to be feeling better, and was more alert now. Alert enough to follow his son's example, and inspect Letitia's parts.

“You think I'm joking about the dangers of stomping about in the night?” Sabatino went on. “Fine. Do it, then. Perhaps the Hooters won't notice you're there. Maybe they won't even notice your lovely friend. Maybe. But I shouldn't count on it, Finn.”

“If you're trying to frighten me, forget it. That might work on simple folk. It won't work with me.”

“It's working on me,” Letitia said, folding her arms close about her chest. “He's scaring me. He's scaring me quite a bit.”

“I'm sorry,” Finn said. “He's well aware of what he's doing, my dear. There may be such things as Hooters, but I strongly doubt that. What are the chances of
two
clans of marching morons in one dismal town? Very slim, I'd say.”

“But you don't know that, Finn.”

“I am not wholly certain, no. But I—”

“Before we go, would you ask this fellow where we might obtain lubrication?” Julia croaked, scrambling from Finn's right shoulder to his left. “If I don't get a little oil in my gears, I'm going to lock up tight. That will be on your head, Finn, not mine.”

“Shut up. You'll just have to wait, like everyone else.”

“Mr. Sabatino?” Letitia bit her lip. Finn knew she was terribly frightened, for her nose was now constantly a-twitch. Her eyes were dark as river stones—he could even see a little white, and that was rare indeed.

“Sir, will you be truthful with me, if I ask?”

“Of course I will, my dear.” Sabatino offered a slight mockery of a bow. “I would lie to your friend, whom I truly despise, but I could never tell a falsehood to you.”

“Oh, please …” Finn said, shaking his head at the sky.

“Then tell me true. Are there really such things as Hooters like you said?”

“Oh, indeed there are.”

“And what exactly do they—do?”

“They hoot, for one thing. All through the dark of night.”

“And what besides that?”

“Harmful things, you mean.”

“Yes. That is how I'd put it. Harmful things …”

Sabatino glanced at Finn, then back to Letitia.

“What they do is different from what the Hatters do. The Hooters neither skin, flog, strangle nor gut folks during their rites. What they do—normally, I mean—is slice off a victim's fingers, one at a time, then all of one's toes, then an eye and an ear and a nose. After that comes the scary part—”

“Damn you, that's enough,” Finn said, for Letitia had turned a paler shade of white.

“What they do,” Sabatino finished, “is burn every-thing—every being—in sight. This is what they like to do best.”

“You've actually—seen such barbarous acts?”

“Of course not, why would I?”

“You see,” Finn said, turning to Letitia, who shivered in the hollow of his arms. “You see what he's doing now?”

“I don't
have
to see,” Sabatino said abruptly. “Father was a Hooter until he retired. A Grand High Hooter, as a fact.”

Sabatino's father looked up with a toothless grin. “A Grand High Hooter Third Class. No one hardly ever gets higher than that.”

“This is true, then?” Finn looked at the old man in a different, more chilling light.

“Why do you think the Hatters made such a big thing out of doing him in? Anytime a Hatter can get a High Hooter …” Sabatino spread his hands. There was, his gesture said, really nothing else to add.

Finn held Letitia close, but her trembling wouldn't go away.

“What I am about to say,” Sabatino said, gazing at the early evening sky, “is a thing so foreign, so alien to all I believe, all I hold dear, that I cannot imagine these words are about to emerge from me. Though I loathe you with all my heart, Finn, I owe you a debt, and a debt I must pay. This is why I offer you—I can scarcely even say it now—I offer you the sanctuary of my home for the night …”

Sabatino rolled his eyes and ran a hand across his brow. “Father, I must ask your permission for this—heresy of mine.”

Father, though, had fallen fast asleep on the ground.

“Very well, then. I will take the responsibility myself.”

“No, most assuredly not,” Finn said. He turned to Letitia Louise. “If I had been thinking straight, I would have headed right for the harbor when the mast of the vessel first appeared. That, my dear, is the path we shall follow now. I think I can assure you no Hooters or other apparitions will appear.”