Keep — Somewhere
They’d been wandering now for at least a day. Last “night” they’d bedded down in a storage room full of odds and ends. “Today” they’d encountered evidence of recent flooding.
Gene waded through the puddle of brackish water. The carcass of another large sea animal lay beached nearby, an oily gray mass in the shadows. It stank.
“I wonder if it was a tidal wave that slopped through one of the portals, or something else,” he said.
Linda and Snowclaw avoided the puddle. Linda’s nose wrinkled at the smell. “What else?”
“An incredibly huge aquarium that sprang a leak, here in the castle somewhere?”
“That’s silly.”
“In this place? Nothing is.”
Snowclaw said, “It’s probably what you said, Gene. A leak through a portal.”
Gene whistled and said, “What an incredible place to live. Imagine! You could be sitting around, darning socks or something, and all of a sudden —”
The far wall of the chamber disappeared, revealing a blasted alien landscape. A violent air current nearly swept them into the portal as pressure differences adjusted. Soon the air flowed the other way and waves of heat assailed them.
“Oh, hell,” Gene complained. “The way out was through that wall. Now we’ll have to double back. And there ain’t nothing back there.”
Linda looked nervously out at the dark rocks and bleached sand. “That doesn’t look like a very nice place. I’m for going back.”
Gene sniffed. “Air’s breathable, but it looks hotter than hell out there. I guess we can’t explore it. Unless …” He began walking toward the portal.
“Gene! Where are you going?”
“I’m going to take a quick look. It sort of reminds me of parts of Utah. Maybe —”
Something large bounded through the opening and entered the chamber. It was twice as tall as Gene and ran on two powerful hind legs. Its head was somewhat reptilian, though the eyes, unnervingly intelligent, were set close enough together to afford accurate depth perception. Its skin was beet red and looked rough and dry. It had a long, supple tail, and the claws on its short but sinewy fore limbs curved wickedly. It saw Gene and stopped in its tracks.
So did Gene, but he hit a wet spot and slipped, falling on his buttocks.
The beast eyed him, its blunted snout parting to reveal a gleaming set of caninelike teeth. Then a voice emanated from the cavity: “Look like food, but it speak.” Its voice was several registers lower than human, but intelligible. Taking two steps closer, it said, “You food?”
The beast towered over Gene, who struggled to his feet. “Hi, there!” he squeaked in an almost hysterical giggle.
“Smell like food,” the beast observed.
“Uh … uh … uh …” Gene backed stiffly away.
The beast’s yellow eyes moved from side to side, taking in the chamber, Linda, and Snowclaw. The latter had begun slowly moving toward the thing, broadax raised.
“I not see this cave before. I smell much food.”
Still backing off, Gene drew his sword and pointed it lamely at the beast.
The animal said, “I think you food. I eat.” It sprang forward.
Snowclaw was a blur and a howl. The beast broke off his charge at Gene and turned to meet him, raking forward with its great claws. But in an instant Snowclaw had run by, and the beast’s talons clawed nothing but air. It halted, looking puzzled. A great, raw gash had opened up across its chest, oozing grayish-purple ichor. The beast searched from side to side, then whirled.
Gene saw the great tail sweeping around at him and threw himself flat on the floor. The thin whiplike tip whistled inches over his head. He got up and ran.
The thing charged at Snowclaw, who had begun running in a wide arc back toward it. The beast ran a curving course to intercept, but at the last possible second Snowclaw executed an impossible pivot and leaped in the other direction, making a lightning-quick swipe with the ax. He raced back to the other end of the chamber. The beast did not follow. It turned slowly. Another incision gaped wide, this one running straight across its throat.
“No food?” it gurgled, its visage registering a faintly perplexed expression. It took three unsteady steps forward, then collapsed with a floor-shaking thud and lay unmoving.
Gene and Linda were peeping out from behind the stanchion of the arched doorway.
“You okay, Gene?” Snowclaw asked.
Gene stepped out. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“You were lucky. You wouldn’t’ve had a chance against that thing.”
“I know. You were …” Gene shook his head in wonder. “Incredible.”
“Aw, it was nothing. I’ve tackled worse than him.”
“Fantastic.”
“I’m a hunter, you know.”
Gene looked at Linda, then hugged her, burying his face in her blond hair. Linda hugged him back.
They parted, and Gene said, “I almost couldn’t move. I was totally petrified.”
“Who wouldn’t have been?”
Gene scowled. “I’m going to have to be quicker if I want to stay alive.”
“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Snowclaw said.
“I should have done something, thrown my sword at its face and run … something. But I just stood there like a wimp.”
“It happened so fast,” Linda said.
Gene grunted and looked immensely displeased.
“Talk about fast,” Snowclaw said, staring at the far end of the chamber.
The portal was gone. The wall had reappeared, and with it the doorway leading out of the chamber.
An hour later it was “lunch time,” and Linda whipped up another spread. She was getting very good at it. She not only conjured an assortment of coldcuts and salads, but materialized a buffet table to serve it on.
“Hey, this is nice, Linda,” Gene said as he scooped linguine salad onto his white china plate. “Ice sculpture’s real nice.” He cocked his head toward the carved swan with swanlings in tow.
Linda looked thoughtful, then said, “You know, I think I’ve
“Congratulations. Snowclaw, don’t eat with your hands.”
“Who’s going to care?”
“The bride’s family will get the wrong idea.”
Linda frowned. “No, if it were Terri’s wedding, then there’d be a champagne fountain. Maybe it was the rehearsal dinner.” She chewed her lip.
“Linda,” Gene said, “it hardly matters. Eat something.”
She sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
“What’s this pink Jell-O-looking stuff here?”
“Pink Jell-O stuff.”
“I mean, is it —”
A shout echoed down the corridor. They froze and listened. It came again.
“Sounds like somebody yelling for help,” Snowclaw said, his furry white ears cocked.
They raced toward the sound. After making a few false turns, they came to what would have been an ordinary furnished room were it not for the wedge of botanical garden that someone had plopped in the middle of it. And in the middle of the riot of vegetation lay Jacoby.
“Quick!” he yelled at them. “It’s got me! I can’t control it!”
Gene alone made it to him after cutting a path through the dense undergrowth. Linda and Snowclaw had gotten tangled.
