Horrors of the Dancing Gods

'We are more permanent residents,' Marge told him. 'In fact, I hadn't known anyone could go both ways between except demons, angels, and a sorcerer named Ruddygore.'

'Oh, it's quite common to have this sort of thing, although most who do are rather of a nasty sort. Ran into a Babylonian chap here a while back. Got his whole country into a war with the West, got trounced, got bombed back to the Stone Age, and he's still in power. Amazing. No, what you cannot do is do it without the permission and aid of some powerful supernatural entity, and you can take only knowledge back with you. Lots of problems here at the moment, though. The whole Sea of Dreams is in ferment. No sure thing, you see. That's why we've been stuck here a while.'

'What's causing the problem, Doctor?' Poquah put in. 'Why is it impossible to cross?'

'Damned city popped up in the middle of the thing! Rotated in from yet another universe. With that on the one side and the djinn on the other, we're pretty well stuck in this one. So far, though, while summoned, they've been unable to make a landing. Hell can't do a lot — after all, when disloyalty and dishonesty are virtues, how can you not expect everybody to go over to what they perceive is the strongest side? Satan and some of the other big ones could probably take these blighters on one on one, but there's a lot of them and they work on their own level.'

'Then why don't they just come and overrun this place?' Marge asked.

He shrugged. 'Something about how supernatural denizens can prepare the way but only mortals can summon the opener. If I were you, though, I wouldn't go anywhere near that southern region where they're strongest. Hell may use insanity, but it's not only not Sane, it is always quite logical. That may be the case with these others as well, but their logic is alien to us. Think of it as an invasion from another planet. The creatures are so different and come from such a different environment and history that they bear no relationship to us at all. They are delighted to find minions who will rush to their side, attracted by their obvious power, but they do not feel an obligation to these minions or even understand the concept.'

'How do you stop them, then?' Irving wondered.

'Destroy the beachhead, boy! Don't let 'em make a successful first landing! They must need elaborate preparation or they'd have been here by now. That's what keeps folks like me sane, you know — mathematics. It is all mathematics in the end. Magic, science, you name it: it is all mathematics. The silly Rules here — they are a form of mathematical order. Trouble is, they're often bad math, as insane as the American income tax code. I was talking about this with another Earthman passing through just the other day. Fellow named Shea, I believe. Professor of mathematics somewhere. These invaders are bound by mathematics and its logic in the same way we are all bound to ours, but it is a different, an alien mathematics. Doesn't matter. Doesn't even matter if we understand it. Doesn't matter if we are able to understand it.'

'I admit I don't understand you now,' Marge conceded.

'Oh, my dear, it's quite simple. Think of a string of numbers, say, one plus one plus one plus one plus one equals five. Simple equation, is it not?'

'That I can follow.'

'All right. Remove one of the ones. Five is still the desired result, even the required result to accomplish something, but you've come up one short. The same is true of the action signs. Change a plus to a minus anywhere in the equation. Same thing. Now, imagine how impossibly complex their math must be. How many things have to be in place, no matter how insane it may seem to us, for their result — invasion of this world — to work. Rather bizarre equation, most likely. One hundred virgin sacrifices on rocky ground at midnight plus forty thousand chanting prayers plus who knows what? I'm just making those up as an example, but you can see that no matter how bizarre the components, it is still building a single equation. Change one item — and the more complex the equation, the better for this — and you thwart them. Change it sufficiently and you'll slam the door in their faces.'

'You make it sound so easy,' Irving noted, knowing it almost certainly wasn't.

'Well, they certainly know it as well,' the doctor admitted. 'One would expect that their agents on this side assembling what's required have a certain level of built-in redundancy. The trick, then, is in finding out how many sacrifices they actually require rather than the number they have got, you see.' He yawned. 'Pardon, but I've had a long day, I'm afraid.'

'Perfectly all right. You have been a lifesaver, Doctor,' Marge assured him. 'Please go back to your hotel room or wherever and have a nice rest.'

'It's that blasted Frenchman. Had me up all last night examining the catacombs of Boreas.' He sighed. 'Well, it certainly has kept life interesting. Charmed. Don't worry about your friend — she'll be fine, at least as far as the wounds go. Superficial. I wish I could say the same about the curse, but that's out of my league. Farewell for_, now!'

And with that he was gone.

'Fascinating,' Poquah commented. 'One begins to suspect that Yuggoth has other surprises than the ones we anticipated. This suggests a primary weakness in the dimensional walls separating the two universes right along this continent. Perhaps more than two, since there is also a physical entryway to Hell here and in no other place. One suspects that the two great bubbles of our respective universes almost touch here. If so, it would be the ideal invasion point from the Sea of Dreams and the easiest to control access into and out of.'

Irving frowned. 'Well, if Hell's close over one way and Earth's close by on the other, then where's Heaven?' 'On the other side of Earth, of course. I thought that was obvious,' the Imir responded. 'We are a bit closer to Hell here. Always have been. Not that Earth folk are any more or less likely to go there than our people are, but here you can walk.'

Marge tiptoed to the door of the bedroom and looked in. Larae was professionally bandaged on her left arm and shoulder and seemed to be asleep from the release of tension, Trowbridge's drugs and shock, or both. She quietly pulled the door shut again, turned, and for the first time saw the strange little man in the white suit 'Who's Peter Lorre?' she asked.

He smiled. 'Joel Thebes, madame. At your service. We were speaking — the three of us — when you and your companion made your dramatic entrance. I am sorry we did not have a calm and proper introduction.'

She nodded. 'Then you're the native guide we were to meet?'

'At your service. Not, however, a native. Not of this place, oh, no! I, too, was born and raised on Earth, in a small town none would have heard of in the Carpathian Mountains near the Romanian-Hungarian border.'

She immediately understood. 'You're really from Transylvania'?'

He brightened. 'Oh, my, yes! A descendant of the Wallachians who ultimately subdued and dealt with Vlad Dracut. And no, I am not a vampire or a werewolf or anything like that, although over time some changes have taken place within me. They have nothing to do with my birth or ancestry, though, and do not imperil you. They are the price I have paid to still be chasing the bird after so many, many long years.'

'And a fat man and a pretty girl are around someplace, no doubt.'

He looked quizzical. 'Um, there was a very large man, a companion, yes, but he is now dead, I believe. At least, I left him in the last stages of a terrible lung disease in Istanbul long ago, and if I know him, he would have made it here by now were he not long dead and assigned to wherever he was to go. As to women, I have encountered many beautiful women over the years but none in a very long time. Why did you make the comment, may I ask?'

'Never mind. You just reminded me of a different plot I once knew.' She should have guessed, Marge told herself, or at least reminded herself that much of the fantasy and fancy of Earth were carried over the Sea of Dreams and there crept into the minds of the most creative and receptive. Earth's fiction was this world's fact, including, it appeared, this little fellow. Well, if he was anything close to his fictional counterpart, he was a very dangerous killer, but he was also more of a threat to Irving than to Larae.

Irving yawned. 'Seems to me that we'd all be better off in the daylight around here, except maybe Marge. Maybe we should get some sleep while there's still enough night.'

Poquah nodded. 'I agree. Mister Thebes, can you meet us for a late breakfast, say, eight-thirty or nine? I assume the hotel has some sort of service.'

'It does,' Thebes responded. 'Mostly European-stylesweet rolls, coffee, tea, that sort of thing — but ample.