The Prophecy Machine (Investments) (19 page)

“I'm afraid not,” Finn said. “I must see to Letitia. I fear we'll have to cut it short.”

“Nonsense. Newlies have to complain about something, it's in their nature, you know. Ah, take a look at this and you'll be back to the lady in a blink.”

Before Finn could protest, the old man took a step forward and opened a pair of heavy panels just below the stairs that Finn hadn't noticed at all.

At once, an alarming clatter filled the large chamber, drowning out the rumbles and rattles of the great machine itself. Finn stifled a desire to step back. The noise was overwhelming, an assault on the senses, a clear violation of every nerve and cell.

Revealed behind the doors were a clutter of golden tubes, a hundred or maybe more, arched up in closely packed rows, tubes like the graceful necks of swans, or serpents poised to strike. And from the mouth of each polished device spewed narrow, seemingly endless strips of paper that flowed into a hundred straw buckets, buckets that had long overflowed, spilling their flaccid ribbons across the floor.

“Crocks and Socks,” Finn said, astonished at the sight. “Pardon my ignorance, but what on earth is that?”

Calabus was no longer surprised, scarcely irritated by Finn's lack of knowledge in the higher, loftier realms.

“What it is, is the end product of
that
,” he said, nodding toward the twisted tangle of tunnels, wires, and pulsing muddy light.

“
That
, is merely the engine for this. The machine collects the prophecies—robs them from Time itself, I'm pleased to say—then transmits them over here. Go ahead, try one if you like.”

“I don't think so,” Finn said. “I have enough difficulty with the present and the past.”

Calabus made a face. “Don't be ridiculous. You think
everything
has to do with you?”

“There's that. The odds are rather slim there's much about me in there.”

Finn reached down and cautiously drew out a handful of tangles and loops. Holding a string to the light he read:

Finn scowled. “This is all gibberish. It makes no sense at all.”

“Of course it doesn't.” Calabus gave him a sour look. “It took me a great deal of time to learn to read the stuff myself. You think you can walk in here and snatch up a lifetime of scientific toil? Damn your arrogance, sir!”

“I forgot myself again,” Finn said. “If you don't mind, I'd like to get upstairs.”

“I'm damned if I know why I brought you here at all. Waste of time for me …”

“One thing I must ask,” Finn said. “Those chandeliers above us here—they give out an astonishing light. May I ask what you've captured inside the glass bulbs? It seems like tiny bits of the sun.”

Calabus looked annoyed. “That's got nothing to do with
anything, boy. It's excess energy—waste. The device makes so much power, I've got to drain it off somewhere.”

“I think, sir, you've hit upon a very practical application here. It seems to me—”

“Sabatino!” Calabus shouted. “You will not forget to tell Squeen William I want sparrow pie tonight. And no feet this time. I find a single foot, I'll thrash the bastard to death … !”

A
LL THE WAY UP FROM THE CELLAR, ALL THE WAY
up to their room, Letitia didn't speak, wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say a word. It seemed to Finn that she was scarcely there, that the real Letitia was hidden somewhere within a shell, a shell that looked much like the real Letitia Louise. And when they were finally there, safe within the room, safe as one could be with a door whose knob had vanished years before, Letitia climbed in bed, turned away and pulled a dusty sheet about her head.

“Now I know you're upset,” Finn said, sitting on the edge of a chair, “and I know you're angry with me. But hiding under there won't solve a thing, Letitia, I'm sure you know that.”

“Yes, I'm very upset,” she said beneath the covers, “and I'm very angry with you. You're wrong about the last. Hiding under here solves everything for me. Whatever happens next, I don't intend to see.”

“She's got a point,” said Julia Jessica Slagg. “It always works for me. I simply make a little click inside, and it all goes away.”

“Nobody asked for your help. Nobody needs your advice. Be very quiet, or I'll give you to that old man who's dying to take you apart.”

Julia knew this wasn't so, that he'd never do that. Still, she was good at reading vocal tones and what they might imply, so she rattled off in a corner and shut her ruby eyes.

“We have to talk,” Finn said. “If you feel better under there, then stay. I can hear you well enough, and you can hear me.”

Finn waited for some reply. When nothing came, he assumed she agreed and went on.

“From the moment we arrived in this place, I felt, and I'm sure you'll agree, that everyone here is addled, crackers, one hand short of a clock. Everything that's happened since has enhanced my feelings on this. I won't go over the events, you know them as well as I. But this, this whatever-it-is in the cellar, this monstrous machine, this is the most frightening thing of all …”

These last words, it seemed, had a great effect on Letitia Louise. She tossed the sheet aside, sat up at once, and looked thoughtfully at Finn.

“You really felt it then, is that what you're telling me now? I thought—what I
thought
, from your total disregard, was you didn't even
know
what was happening there. You surely didn't act as if you did.”

“I'm sorry, my dear. I never meant to be uncaring, but I felt I ought to see just how deranged these people are. It's truly worse than I thought. Sabatino's mean of spirit and possibly daft, but the old man's totally deranged.”

Finn shook his head. “He believes that pile of rubbish, that junkyard down there, is really retching up mail from the future. I can't imagine what he—”

“Oh, Finn …” Letitia covered her face with both hands. When she looked up again, all signs of anger or
displeasure were gone. Now her features held no emotion at all.

“You say you felt it, but I'm not sure you did. Not the way
I
did, dear. There's something really awful, something terrible, down there. If I ever had to face it again, I fear my heart would simply stop.”

“Letitia …” Finn left his chair and sat beside her on the bed. He touched her hand and found it limp and cold.

“I did feel something, I assure you of that. I touched the thing, and nearly got sick on the spot. But it's nothing to fear, it's some kind of natural force, something like, what—? Like lightning struck and you were close to the tree.”

“No. It's not like that at all.” Letitia jerked her hand away, but her eyes impaled Finn. Locked in a daze, locked in a stare, yet somewhere else, somewhere far away.

“You can believe that awful thing's real or it's not. It doesn't matter, Finn. But it's more than a machine, I'll tell you that. Magic's at work down there … No, now don't interrupt, just listen to me. When I'm done, you can argue with me then.

“This is what you have to do. And don't tell me you won't or you can't, or anything of the sort. You must leave, you must go back to town. Find another Mycer there, find her and tell her my name. Tell her my mother's name, which was Liliana, of the Phileas Clan. Tell her that, and she'll know you're all right. Newlies don't pass out names like humans do, we know better than that.

“And it must be a
she
. Never mind why. I didn't see any Mycers in town, but I'm certain someone's there, I can feel it, Finn. When you find them, tell them we have to have a seer. Tell them it has to be a Rubinella, First Order. Don't forget. It won't do any good if she's any less than that.”

She reached out then and squeezed his hand. “Now you're going to say you wouldn't leave me on a bet. That
this is all nonsense in my head. You will go though, because you have to, Finn. Julia won't let them harm me, and I doubt they'll even try. They'll let you go, because they know you'll come back to me.

“Can you
do
this? You have to, love. I can't explain why, because I don't really know. But I know what's down there is
wrong
, and we have to do something, or I don't think we'll ever get out of here alive.”

Finn stared at her a moment before he could even find his voice.

“Skillets and Pans,” he said, feeling a chill lift the hairs on his neck. “I don't know what to say. I can't imagine where you're getting all this. It's not like you at all.”

“It is, though. It's just not a part of me you know, and I don't have time to tell you now. You'll do it though, won't you? You'll trust me, Finn, because we do have a great love for each other, and I'm sorry we had a small fight. I hate doing that, even if they're small, because I care a great deal about you.”

Finn took a breath. “I don't like it, but I will, though I don't know what it's all about. But you do, it seems. That will have to be enough for me now.”

Letitia smiled, the smile that always reassured him everything was right, though the rest of the world was completely unstable, totally out of whack. Which, quite clearly, it most surely was now …

F
INN WAS SURPRISED TO DISCOVER HOW CLOSE THE
Nuccis' house was to the village and the sea. The flight from town the day before had seemed to take forever, hampered as it was by madmen with sharp pointy sticks. Now, that same dusty road had turned to mud from the night's fierce rain. The ruts worn by countless carts and wagons were troughs of dirty water reflecting a leaden sky.

Even before he reached the rise that revealed the narrow streets and cramped houses down below, the ghastly collection of odors assured him the town was still there. Still grim and uninviting, a pile, a dump, an unlovely heap of peeling wood and sooty stone. Convenient, Finn thought, for the blind or the sighted as well. Either could find the place with scarcely any effort at all.

It felt good to be free, out in the open, if somewhat tainted, air. Free for a while from the mean in spirit and the mentally deranged, free from that house, free from the old man's infernal machine.

Relieved, but still concerned that he'd left Letitia behind. She would come to no harm, he was sure. He wouldn't have gone if he'd had the slightest doubt.

Still, perhaps he'd been quick to agree, telling himself it was, after all, her idea, that he really didn't want to disappoint her again. He hoped she hadn't guessed, hadn't read it in his eyes, hadn't seen that he felt it was a useless thing to do, hunting for a seer, that it made no sense to him at all. She would be in a fury if she did.

He shook these thoughts aside, for he needed all his wits about him here. None of the locals he passed wore yellow hats, but that didn't mean this fellow or that hadn't tried to do him in the day before.

At the very edge of town, he turned to the right and headed for the docks, quickening his pace as a tangle of spars and masts appeared. He was certain none belonged to the
Madeline Rose.
Sabatino lied nearly all the time, but he'd happily told the truth about that. Three vessels were there, but Captain Magreet was gone.

One of the ships was loaded with kelp, stank to high heaven, and wouldn't be leaving for a week. Another was crewed by pug-faced Bowsers, who howled and snapped their teeth and threw fruit at him as he passed. The third, and largest, of the vessels had recently burned and settled to the bottom. Only charred and brittle masts still rose above the sea.