The Prophecy Machine

“Ah, I see my services are sorely needed here,” Nicoretti said, dropping his bony frame to the ground. “What the devil have you done to yourself now, boy? A pleasure to see you as well, Nephew. Or possibly not,” he added, as Sabatino turned the other way.

“Bradley, Willie! Give us some cover over here. Let's get this lad out of the sun!”

“No, you don't have to do that,” Finn said, watching the Bowsers scamper off, snapping at the crowd. “I'm fine as I am.”

“Don't tell me my business, I won't stand for that. Hold still, this may hurt a bit …”

Finn loosed a frightful yell as Nicoretti yanked off his boot.

“I'll bet you don't have a lot of business, treating your patients like that.”

“Hush, lad. All you've got is a sprain. I'm going to wrap it, give you a couple of splints. Stay off that foot awhile, you'll be as good as new. Don't give me that look, it won't do you any good. That girlie's still in there, right? Forget it. You're not walking on that, not for some time. Wouldn't do you any good if you could. Whoever's in that fearsome place, they're not coming out. Now, how's that feel, too tight or what?”

Finn stared at the man, backing away from his touch.

“You don't know what you're talking about. Letitia's all right, and I'm getting her out of there.”

“You think so, do you?” Nicoretti gave a sly, secretive glance at Sabatino to see if he was far enough away.

“If you think you can,” he said, leaning close to Finn, “then you know what's in there, don't you? What foul secret the Nuccis are hiding from us all. Perhaps you'd like to share that with me. I've tried to be open with you, lad, I think you know that.”

“Open with me? Should I laugh, or would that be impolite?”

“I can help you, boy. But you have to help me.”

“And you can-what?” Finn asked, hurting all over, now, from his fall. Hurting everywhere, not solely in the foot.

“Can you get Letitia out? Can you help me do that? Oh, but you say she's dead, so that's out. I guess I don't need you at all, Doctor. Thanks for the lovely splint.”

Nicoretti's face went dark. “Damn you, boy, I said you'd play the fool, and you haven't proved me wrong. I can tell you things. Things you don't know.”

“Like what?” “Like the crazed old man in there. I'll tell you who he is. He's Calabus' father.” Nicoretti grinned. “What do you think of that?”

“I know who he is. What else have you got?”

Nicoretti looked grim. He glanced at Sabatino, who was farther off now, watching Constable Bob attempt to line his troops in a row.

“All right, pay attention, boy,” Nicoretti said with a sigh. “You know I'm Sabatino's uncle. The reason I am is because my sister, Ingretta, married Calabus. She was Sabatino's mother, rest her soul.”

“I guessed she wasn't alive, whoever she turned out to be.”

Nicoretti hesitated. “No, she is not. My sister and I came to Makasar when we were young, after our parents died. We were raised by a very distant aunt. Ingretta and I were both Calabus' friends at the time, possibly the only friends he had, for the old man would seldom let him out of his sight.

“His father had come to this country years before after he'd amassed a great wealth somewhere. Often, when he was away on some venture, Calabus would let us in the house. It was, even then, a frightening place to be.

“Later, when Calabus and Ingretta announced they would wed, his father went into a rage and forbade him to see her again. The two were much in love, though, and they ran off together anyway.

“All of us paid the price for that. When the couple returned, the old man took them in. But not from the goodness of his heart. He told my sister she could never leave the house, that she would never see me, her brother, again.”

Nicoretti hesitated. “That was his punishment for disobedience. He was, even then, a crazed and bitter old man. No matter how either of us pleaded, Ingretta and I never saw each other after that. Even when she died giving birth to Sabatino, I was not allowed to bid her soul farewell. I was a Hatter, you see, and not of my sister's new ‘faith,’ though the old man never entered his own church in his life.

“Calabus, I regret to say, was ever weak at heart. His father's hatred, his terrible will, set Calabus against me in the end. And thus it remains today.”

Finn shook his head. “It's a sorrowful tale. That one man could cause such misery in his life. I fully understand why you've loathed the Nuccis so long. You have greatly suffered at their hands.”

“Anyone who knows them suffers at their hands. You're aware of that as well.”

Indeed, Finn thought, and I'll suffer yet until Letitia's out of there. He looked past Nicoretti at the crowd. They were silent now, for no new tremors had come from the house. As any crowd will do, if there's little of a tragic nature to behold, they soon become restless and bored.

There was no sign of the Crimson Lancers Volunteers, and Finn wondered if they'd marched in disorder on the house. If they had …

Bracing himself on two hands and a leg, he tried to pull himself up. He made it for a moment, cold sweat beading on his brow, then sharp pain drove him down again.

“I told you,” Nicoretti said. “No one listens to their doctor, they know it all, they do.”

“You could help me up, Doctor, I'd listen to that.”

“Help you cause greater damage to your leg? Not on your life, son. I won't betray my craft.”

Finn glared at the man, drew a breath for another try.

“One thing I want to know. You and the Foxers. You're together on this. I knew it from the time you- saved me from them, but I don't know why. I'm not buying that they just happen to hate the Nuccis too.”

“Ridiculous. I wouldn't get near one of the brutes.”

“Because they're Newlies?”

“Because I don't like 'em, is all.”

“You don't mind Bowsers.”

“I'll hire a Bullie to pull a cart, but I'm not taking him to lunch.”

“I'm not as far from home as I thought.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Just what it-”

A sudden great vibration shook the ground again, stronger, more awesome than before. Nicoretti fell. The crowd began to shriek, and half of them toppled to the ground.

“Help me, damn you,” Finn said. “Get me on my feet!”

“I'm down here myself, boy, didn't you notice that?”

“Sabatino, give me a hand-”

Finn glanced behind him, but the man wasn't there. The tin hats they'd worn were gone-Sabatino had taken Finn's too.

“He knows you're crippled up good,” Nicoretti grinned. “He's gone in to get that Newlie for himself.”

“No. He's gone for his father. And not to get him out, I'll wager.”

Finn struggled to stand, fell twice, then again. The fourth time worked, but the world kept whirling around.

“You won't make it,” Nicoretti said.

“Wait out here and see.”

“I was truthful to you, lad. You didn't give me my due.”

Finn looked at him. “That's what you're asking? I can't tell you what's in there. I couldn't if I tried.”

“Damn lie,” Nicoretti said, “you could if you weren't a cheat.”

“It's not a lie, Doctor, it's just the awful truth is what it is.”

He turned and hobbled feebly toward the house, dragging one leg, cursing Sabatino with every breath. On the way he passed the Bowsers, Pugnose and Mean-eyes, dragging a colorful awning in their wake. They growled at Finn, and Finn growled back …