The Universe Twister (57 page)

"All right," Vugli's blunt voice spoke suddenly beside them. "Wizner Hiz is waiting. Let's go, Haz."

The glowering youth stood just inside the impervious wall—impervious to O'Leary, at least, he thought disgustedly. Around here, every man, woman, and child over eighteen months had freedom to come and go—all but him!

"He's not ready," Sisli had jumped up, stood facing her brother. "Hiz will have to wait."

"You know better than that."

"Go away! You're spoiling everything! If you'd just give us more time—"

"It's not me—it's Wizner Hiz—"

"Yes, indeed, it
is
Wizner Hiz," a new voice spoke, a sharp, thin-edged voice that seemed to slice between Lafayette's bones. He turned to see a lean, leathery-faced old Wingman, with a few gray plumes still clinging to his withered scalp, a nose like an eagle's beak, eyes like bits of glowing coal.

"And I am here," Wizner Hiz said in an ominous hiss, "to discover the truth of this curious matter!"

"There's nothing to discover," Sisli spoke up defiantly, facing the Visioner. "Tazlo had a fall; he hit his head. Naturally, he was a bit confused. But now . . . he remembers everything—don't you, Tazlo?" She turned to face him, her eyes bright with fear, and with determination.

"Well—there may be a few details I haven't quite remembered yet," he temporized.

"So? That is good news indeed," Wizner snapped. "But of course the matter is not one which can be settled so casually. The interests of all Thallathlone are concerned. People are afraid of the worst. They require reassurance. I'm sure you'll willingly join me in laying all fears at rest."

"Of course he will," Sisli spoke up quickly. "But he needs more rest. He hasn't recovered—"

"I have no intention of overstraining an honest invalid," Wizner cut in harshly. "A few questions, a few tests, publicly given—nothing more. Then honest Tazlo—if indeed the subject
is
Tazlo—can return to his sickbed—if—he is still in need of special attention."

"Tomorrow! He'll feel much better tomorrow—"

"Tomorrow may be too late, girl!"

"He might have a relapse if he has to go out now—"

"Suppose—" Wizner pointed a taloned finger at Sisli. "Suppose this man we call Tazlo Haz is in truth Invaded by a parasite from the dark spaces between the worlds! Would you nurture him here, assist him to prepare a place for others of his fell breed?"

"He isn't! I know he isn't!"

"Sisli—he has to be put to the test," Hinky interrupted. "Fighting it will only make it look worse for him. If he
is
Tazlo, it will all be over in a few minutes! It can't hurt to answer a few questions, even if he is still a little weak—and he looks strong enough to me," he added, giving Lafayette a look that was far from cordial.

"He'll come with you now," Vugli stated flatly. "Won't you, Tazlo?"

Lafayette looked at the wingman. He looked at Wizner Hiz. He looked at Sisli. He drew a breath.

"No," he said. "I'm afraid I can't oblige, fellows."

"No, you say?" the Visioner shrilled. "But I say
yes!
Vugli—Hinky—take him!"

"Come on you—" Vugli caught Lafayette's arm; Hinky seized his injured wing in a secure grip, twisted as Lafayette held back. Sisli screamed. Her father made distressed sounds. Lafayette braced his feet, but the pain in the broken member was like a hot sword under his shoulder blade. They hustled him forward, slammed him against the unyielding wall with stunning force.

"What's that?" said Vugli, who stood half in, half out of the wall, gaping at O'Leary. "Merge, man! Merge! This resistance is foolish!"

"Sorry," Lafayette said. "No can do. I seem to have forgotten how."

"Aha!" Wizner crowed. "You see? Proof! Proof positive! That was how we dealt with them last time, how we trapped them in the end! The Mind-gobblers had not our skill in merging! A wall of kreewood trapped them like weeki birds in a cage! And so we caged them, starved them—"

"No! It's not true!" Sisli wailed. "He's simply forgotten!"

"Silence, foolish chit! Would you shield the monster in our midst?"

"He's not a monster!"

"So? How can you be sure?"

"Because . . . because I've looked into his eyes—and he's
good
!"

"Then let him step forth—and prove himself a Wingman!"

"It's no use, Sisli," Lafayette said. "I can't, and that's that."

"Then you admit you're a Mind-gobbler!" Wizner Hiz screeched, backing away. Vugli and Hinky retreated, staring at him. Only Sisli still clung to his arm, until her father dragged her away.

"No," Lafayette said. "I don't admit anything of the sort."

"Come, let him prove himself," Wizner Hiz snarled. "We'll withdraw and leave him to himself. If he's a true man and not possessed, he'll emerge. If not—then let him be sealed up forever as a warning to others of his dread kind!"

In silence, except for Sisli's sobbing, Sisli's father and brothers trooped out through the wall as through a veil of dark-brown smoke. Wizner Hiz took the girl's arm, dragged her with him, still protesting.

Lafayette was alone in the sealed room.

4

There was a little of the fruit juice left in the cups; O'Leary drank half, preserving the rest for later. He circled the room, vainly prodding and poking in search of some overlooked egress.

"Don't waste your time," he advised himself, slumping on the bed. "There's no way out—except through the wall. You're trapped. You've had it. This is where it all ends . . . trapped by a silly superstition . . ."

"But," his thoughts ran on, "maybe it's not a superstition at that. In a way Wizner's right: I
am
an Invader. Apparently, this fellow Tazlo Haz is a real person—at least as real as any of this world. I haven't simply sprouted wings—I've taken over someone else's body. And it was the same when I was Zorro!" He rose, pacing the cell.

"Zorro really existed; he was a Wayfarer, with a girlfriend named Gizelle, and a big career ahead as a pickpocket. Until I came along and swiped his identity. And then . . ." O'Leary paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Then I switched identities again—with Tazlo Haz. And this time, I switched worlds along with bodies. Why not? I've done it before, more than once. The USA—Artesia—then half a dozen continua that Goruble dumped me into when he was trying to get rid of me—then Melange. And now Thallathlone."

He sat on the bed again. "But why? At first I thought it was the Focal Referent. I pushed the button, and the next thing I knew no one recognized me. But this time I didn't have the Mark III. I was just standing there. And another thing: always before the parallel worlds I've stumbled into had the same geography as Colby Corners. There were a few variables—such as the desert in Artesia where the bay was back home—but that was relatively minor. But here—nothing's the same. It's a totally different setup, with a valley where the mountain was. And the people aren't analogs of the ones I knew—like Swinehild being Adoranne's double, and Hulk, Count Alain's . . ."

He rose again, paced restlessly. "I have to make a few assumptions: one, that I really did get a note from the Red Bull, I really did meet him at the A & D, and that somehow I changed places with Zorro—" He stopped dead. "Which implies . . . that Zorro changed places with
me
!"

5

"Oh, boy," Lafayette was still muttering half an hour later. "This changes everything. Nobody will be out looking for me. Or if they do, they'll find me wandering in a dazed condition, claiming I'm somebody named Zorro the Pig. Or they've already found me. I'm probably back home now, with Daphne fussing over me, feeding me soup. Or feeding Zorro soup!" He threw himself down on the bunk. "Just wait till I get my hands on that slimy character! Posing as me, insinuating himself into Daphne's good graces . . ." He paused while a startled expression fixed itself on his face. "Why, that dirty, underhanded, sneaking louse! Taking advantage of poor Daphne that way! I've got to get out of here! I have to get home!" He sprang up, hammered on the wall, shouted.

The silence was total. Lafayette slumped against the wall. "Great," he muttered. "Pound some more. Yell a lot. All that will do is convince Wizner Hiz you're just what he claims—if anyone can hear you, which is doubtful. That wood's as hard as armor plate." He sat on the bed, rubbing his bruised fists. "And he's probably right. Thallathlone is obviously some kind of offbeat plane of existence, not a regular parallel continuum. Maybe it's on some kind of diagonal with the serial universes Central controls. Maybe people like me have accidentally wound up here before, just the way I did; maybe there's some kind of probability fault line you can slip through . . ."

He lay back with a sigh. The ray of sunlight from above made a bright spot on the dark, polished floor. The perfume of Sisli still lingered in the air.

"Maybe a lot of things," he murmured. "Maybe I'd better get some sleep. Maybe I'll be able to think better then . . ."

6

The dream was a pleasant one: he was lying on the bank of a river, under the spreading branches of a sycamore, with Daphne beside him, murmuring to him in a soft and loving voice.

 . . . try, please, for me . . . you can do it, I know you can do it . . .

"Try what?" Lafayette said genially, and moved to put his arm about her shoulders. But somehow she was gone now; he was alone under the tree . . . and the light had faded. He was in darkness, still hearing her call, faint, as from a great distance:

 . . . just for me, my Tazlo . . . please try . . . please . . .

"Daphne? Where are you?" He rose, groping in the pitch darkness. "Where did you go?"

Come to me . . . come . . . you can if you try . . . try . . . try . . . try . . .

"Certainly—but where are you? Daphne?"

Try, Tazlo! You are trying! I can feel you trying! Like this! You see? Hold your mind this way . . . and move like this . . .

He felt ephemeral hands touch his mind. He felt the lattice work of thought turned gently, aligned, steered. There was a gentle tugging, as if a cotton thread pulled at him. He moved forward, listening, listening to her voice. Cobwebs brushed his face, dragged back over his body,
through
his body . . .

Cool, fresh air around him, filled with a soft, rustling sound. He smelled green, growing things; he opened his eyes, saw the twinkle of stars through the filigree of foliage above, saw lights that gleamed through leaves, saw—

"Sisli!" he blurted. "How . . . what—"

She was in his arms. "Tazlo—my Tazlo—I knew you could do it! I knew!"

He turned, looked at the corrugated surface of shaggy bark behind him. He ran his hand over it, feeling the solidity of it, the denseness.

"Well, what do you know," he said wonderingly. "I walked through a wall."

1

Wizner Hiz was still scowling; but even Vugli had taken Sisli's side—and Lafayette's.

"You were the one that set up the test, Wizner Hiz," Hinky shrugged. "Don't complain when he passes it."

"Come along, Tazlo," Sisli said with a toss of her head. "The party is about to begin."

Lafayette hesitated, looking out along the yard-thick branch with the shiny path worn along its upper surface, leading toward the lighted dancing pavilion. "What happens," he inquired, "if you slip?"

"Why should you slip?" Sisli walked out a few feet, stood on one toe and pirouetted, spreading her white wings just enough to make a sighing sound and stir the leaves around her.

"I've got a broken wing, remember?" O'Leary improvised. "I've got an idea: why don't we stay here, and just sort of listen in from a distance?"

"Silly boy." She caught his hand, led him out on the precarious path. "Just close your eyes and I'll lead you," she said with an impish smile. "I think you just want to be babied," she added.

"Let's go," Vugli said, jostling past Lafayette, almost sending him from the branch. "I have some drinking to catch up on, after the day I've been through."

O'Leary clung to a cluster of leaves he had grabbed for support; Sisli pulled him back.

"For heaven's sake, Tazlo—stop behaving as if you weren't one of Thallathlone's top athletes. You're embarrassing me."

"Sure; just give me time to get my sky-legs." He closed his eyes and concentrated. "It's funny, Sisli," he said, "but if I just relax and sort of clear my mind—fit myself into the Tazlo bag—I start remembering things. Little bits and pieces, like, oh, sailing through the air on a sunny day—and doing power dives over Yawning Abyss—and even walking branches . . ."

"Well, of course, Tazlo; you've done them often enough."

"And . . . even with my eyes closed, I can feel you, standing there, six feet away. I can sense Vugli, he's about thirty feet away now, talking to someone. And I think Hinky has gone back . . . in that direction." He pointed.

"Well, of course we can sense each other." Sisli sounded puzzled. "How else would we manage to find our way back to the eyrie after a long flight?"

"I guess it figures. And all I have to do to walk these branches is just hold my mind right, right?"

"Right." Sisli giggled. "You look so solemn and determined, as if you were going to have to do something terribly brave and terribly important—all just to take a stroll down the front walk."

"All things are relative, I guess," Lafayette, and stepped boldly out behind her toward the sounds of music.

2

Life in Thallathlone was pretty nice, all things considered, O'Leary reflected hazily, relaxing at the nightly fete. If it wasn't one occasion for joy, it was another. Tonight's ball, for example, had been in celebration of the second week's anniversary of his vindication. The fermented booljuice had flowed freely; the air dancers had been skilled and graceful in their wispy scarves and veils, the toasted birdseed had tasted better than broiled steak—and Sisli, at his side every minute, had been as loving and attentive a prospective bride as a man could want.

That was the only thought that dampened his enthusiasm momentarily.