The Prophecy Machine

ship with skeletal masts and tattered sails, a chill and hollow vessel, as cold as death itself.

And if Finn needed further assurance that no living creature sailed upon this craft, a dead man raised a wispy arm from that cold quarterdeck, and sent a ghostly greeting across the dark sea …

6

Finn dreamed. He dreamed about a lot of things he didn't ever want to dream again. He dreamed he was sizzling, broiling, frying in a pan. Someone was having him for lunch. Someone was hungry, someone who didn't care to wait till he was done.

He woke up flailing, thrashing, and kicking about in a pool of salty sweat. He sat up with a start to find a lizard patiently gnawing on his leg.

“Custard and Clams,” Finn exclaimed, kicking out at Julia, sending her skidding across the room. “What in holy hell's wrong with you?”

“You break it, you fix it,” Julia said. She flicked her scaly tail, shook her tinny head. Everything seemed to be in place.

“You snore like a storm, and sleep like the dead. If it wasn't for me-Custard and Clams, indeed. Get your big feet on the floor. Look out that porthole and tell me what you see.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Don't, then. Lie there and roast in the heat.”

Finn muttered to himself, then padded across the floor and squinted out the small, salt-encrusted window at the hot and brassy sea. He blinked and looked again. Unless his eyes deceived him, there was no sea in sight. Neither brassy nor hot, not any sea at all. Instead, he saw a rotting wooden wharf, piled high with barrels, boxes and crates. Scattered with garbage, overripe fruit, swill, slops and waste of every sort. The smell was a horror, and the air was thick with swollen green flies.

Beyond the sordid dock was a grim and dirty town full of narrow, high-roofed houses, all crammed and choked up together like weeds. A great horde of people, none more attractive than the next, crowded the cobble alleyways. It was, truly, an awful sight to see. It made Finn yearn for the simple but clean byways of Ulster-East, the quiet of his own Garpenny Street. He even missed the dull sound of cannon down the bay, the colorful war balloons soaring overhead.

“Great Apples and Pears,” Finn said, “What sort of place is this? We're not supposed to be anywhere, we're supposed to be at sea!”

“Well, I'm certain that we're not,” Julia said. “Land and water are not at all alike.”

“As ever, I'm grateful for your help,” Finn said, frowning at the ruby-eyed creature who'd climbed atop a chair. “I don't know where we are, but I mean to find out.”

Struggling into trousers while hunting for his shirt, he glanced at Letitia Louise. She was still sound asleep, her fine ashen hair a silken veil across her cheek. The sun painted golden stripes across her bare and lovely back.

“I'll talk to the captain,” Finn said, turning away from the sight, “I'll get an answer to this.”

“Good idea,” said Julia Jessica Slagg, “that's what I'd do myself.”

The deck was crowded with people. Cargo and luggage were scattered all about. Enormous, hulking Bullies, broad-shouldered Newlies with short, stumpy knobs atop their heads, glassy eyes and massive necks stalked up and down the gangway bearing heavy barrels and crates. Many wore golden rings in their noses, many had lewd tattoos.

Finn found Captain Magreet on his quarterdeck, shouting, shaking his fists, cursing at everyone in sight. His officer's hat was askew, feathers and plumes sagging limply in the heat.

“I want to know exactly where I am,” Finn demanded. “I want to know why we're stopping here.”

Magreet gave him a single sour glance. “Get away from me, sir. Get out of my sight.”

Finn stepped in front of the captain, blocking his view of the bustle down below.

“I merely asked, Captain, where we are and why. As a paying passenger, I have every right to information such as that.”

“Hah! That's what you're thinking, now, is it? What damn fool told you that?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Move it there,” Magreet shouted, pushing Finn gently aside, “Get busy, you vile, odorous, good-for-nothing beast, or I'll have the flesh peeled off your back!”

One of the Bullies made a deep, rumbling sound in his chest, gave the captain a murderous glance, and moved no faster than before.

A pair of Yowlie crewmen teased the big fellow, scampering about in his path. The Bullie lashed out with one stout foot, but the Yowlies were too quick for that.

“Can't stand the ugly brutes,” Magreet said, “They'll turn on you faster'n a southern squall. Damn me, are you still here, Finn? What the devil is it now?”

“Same as before, Captain. I'd like to know where I am, why we're stopping here.”

“Makasar. Port of Nakeemo. Sour oats, red beer. Tar and fertilizer, plus a couple dozen other lovely scents, is what you're smelling now. That, and the local damned un-bathed population out there.”

Finn shook his head. “My ticket says nothing about a port of call. Not anywhere at all.”

“ 'Course it doesn't.”

“What?”

“You deaf or what, boy? Your ticket's going to say where you're going. You aren't going somewhere, it isn't going to say.”

“That's ridiculous. If the ship's going to stop somewhere-”

Magreet granted Finn a patient sigh. “A passenger coming here don't have a ticket says where you're going, sir. None of his damn business. Isn't your business where he's headed for.”

“Captain, my-servant-companion is not overly taken with the sea. How many more stops will we make before we reach Antoline Isle? I would simply like to know that.”

“You would, would you? An' why's that?”

“Why? Because I-” Finn took a breath. “All right, how long will we be here? When will we leave?”

“Overnight.”

“Overnight?”

“What did I just say? I believe that's what I said. We sail again on the morrow, out with the morning tide.”

“Fine. That is what I asked. You could have said that in the first, sir, and I'd have been long gone.”

Magreet didn't answer. He was scowling at a large Bullie who had dropped a barrel on the rocky quay. The barrel burst open, and something dark and oily ran out.

“You'll pay for that, you lout,” Magreet yelled, “It'll come right off of your back!”

“In that case,” Finn said, “we shall be spending the night ashore. It will be a great relief to get out of the heat for a while.”

… It'll give poor Letitia a chance to settle her nerves, he said to himself, and get something decent to eat.

“I don't suppose there's some rule you haven't bothered to tell me about,” he said aloud. “I won't have to buy another ticket to get back on again.”

The captain looked bewildered. “Are you daft, man? Who ever heard of such a fool thing as that? Meanin' no offense, Master Finn, but I don't see how you landsmen have the wits to piss and eat, and keep yourself clean. Damned if I do …”

“Oh, how I adore you, Finn! Finn, my sweetness, my darling, my very own love. You are truly the most wonderful man in the world!”

“I appreciate the thought,” Finn said, making no effort to fend off the moist and tender kisses Letitia showered upon his face. This, in spite of the fact that a passenger or crewman might walk into the cabin at any