Thaxton, a dapper man in his late thirties, said, “You don’t know what’s going on half the time out on the course, Dalton, old boy.”
“I know enough to beat you more than half the time.”
“Golf’s not my game, you know that.”
“Yes, of course. It’s tennis, which I hate.”
“Gene’s going to study computer science,” Linda said. “Grad school at Cal Tech.”
“Very good school,” Dalton said, impressed. “Why computers?”
“Well, Gene has always had this inferiority thing about his not being very good in magic. He needs to compensate. Computers he thinks he can handle.”
Jeremy Hochstader came in yawning. He looked in his teens but was a bit older.
“Speakin’ of computers,” Deena said, “here comes the whiz kid now.”
“Morning, everybody,” Jeremy said between yawns. “Sorry. Up all night with the castle mainframe again.”
“How’s the rebuilding going?” Dalton asked.
“Oh, so-so. The CPU is working but the operating system is still full of bugs.” Jeremy helped himself to eggs and bacon.
Linda said, “Gene also thinks he can help with the magic if he learns computers.”
“Magic and computers,” Deena said with a shake of her head. “Crazy.”
“Incantations, pentacles, all that stuff is old-fashioned,” Jeremy said. “Why can’t you run a spell through a computer?”
“Why not?” Deena said with a shrug.
“Can’t stop progress,” Jeremy said.
“I also think that Gene needs to get back to reality,” Linda said. “I think maybe all of us need to get back sometimes.”
“Not me,” Dalton said. “I’ll take the castle over reality any day.”
Thaxton buttered some toast while commenting, “According to our host, the castle
“What’s an adjunct?” Deena asked.
“Something that’s secondary. The castle creates all the worlds it provides access to.”
Linda said, “Well, that’s not entirely true. The way I understand it — I mean, the way Lord Incarnadine explained it to me — is that there are an infinite number of possible universes, but they don’t really exist in the normal sense. They just sort of hang out there until the castle makes them …
“That’s more or less it,” Thaxton said.
“And the castle chooses 144,000 of these universes and creates access doors that we all go traipsing through.”
“You’ve hit it on the head.”
“But I really don’t emotionally accept it,” Linda went on. “I still can’t accept the castle as anything but a long-lived fantasy. I think Gene has trouble with it, too. That’s why he feels he has to get back once in a while. Back to the gritty, real world we came from.”
“All good luck to Gene,” Dalton said, “but I’m staying right here.”
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, either,” Deena said. “I didn’t have it so great back in Bed-Sty.”
Dalton said, “I think all of us are here because of problems in the so-called real world. That’s what opens a door into this place. A willingness to chuck it all and leave.”
“You really think so?” Linda said.
“Of course. Haven’t you ever wondered why only certain types show up here?”
“Now that you mention it, I have.”
“Sure. And haven’t you ever wondered why whole worlds don’t come pouring through? It’s because only a few people — beings — can get through those magic doorways. To everyone else they are shut tight.”
“We have had a few invasions,” Linda said.
“Well, I was speaking generally, of course. The Hosts of Hell were certainly an exception.”
“And so were the blue meanies a little while back,” Deena said. “I hated those dudes.”
“I wonder how they got in, then?” Linda said.
“Perhaps a whole world full of beings can hate their own world,” Thaxton said.
“I doubt it,” Dalton said. “It just goes to show that there are no hard-and-fast rules to Castle Perilous. You have to be on your toes all the time.”
“Good morning!”
All heads turned to Gene Ferraro as he came striding in lugging two huge suitcases. Unlike most of his fellow Guests, who were in vaguely medieval garb. Gene was dressed in sweat pants, running shoes, T-shirt, and windbreaker. He also wore a big grin.
“You’re finally up,” Linda said.
“All ready for my first day of kindergarten. And you won’t even have to walk me to the school bus.” He dropped the luggage and sat down. “Hope I have time for breakfast.” He started heaping flapjacks onto a plate.
“What time is your plane?” Linda asked.
“Eleven-ten. Hope they’re ready at Halfway to take me to the airport. It’s a long drive into Pittsburgh.”
Orrin said, “I’m to tell you, sir, that Hulbert is standing by with the motorcar.”
“Fine. Bert’s the best driver of the lot.”
Dalton said, “Before you arrived, Gene, we were all speculating as to why you were going back to school. Why don’t we get it from the horse’s mouth?”
“Maybe it’s not the mouth my reasons come from,” Gene said. “But never mind. All I can say is, the prospect of hanging around a castle for the rest of my life polishing my sword has its attractions, but I have to prove something to myself.”
“What’s that, Gene?”
“That I don’t have to be here. Don’t get me wrong, I
“Like what?”
“Like get a job. I’ll work for as long as it takes to pay my parents back for putting me through college. My dad took a bath when the stock market crashed a little while back. He’s looking at retirement with a skimpy portfolio and not a lot of savings. They have equity in the house, but you gotta have a roof over your head. So, I’m going back to the real world for a while and help them out.”
Linda smiled at Dalton. “I told you.”
“Well, I think that’s very commendable, Gene,” Dalton said.
“Thank you.”
Linda asked, “Is Sheila coming to see you off?”
“No, I saw her and Trent last night. Said our goodbyes. I really wanted Lord Incarnadine to be here, though.”
Thaxton looked around. “Does anyone know where our host is and what he’s doing?”
“As usual,” Dalton said, “he’s on one of his secret missions. Most likely diplomatic doings in an aspect where he has some political interest.”
“Is there an aspect where he doesn’t have a political interest?” Linda asked.
“Oh, a few, I imagine,” Thaxton said. “One man can’t look after 144,000 worlds.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past Lord Incarnadine,” Linda said. “Sure, I know that a lot of aspects are unstable and nobody goes there, but I bet Incarnadine looks after political stuff in several hundred at least.”
“You may be right,” Dalton said, then drained his coffee cup. “Well, I’m off. I mean to get in nine holes before lunch. Are you with me, Thaxton?”
Thaxton pulled his golf bag out from under the table. “Let’s have a go.”
“Gene,” Dalton said, holding out a hand, “I wish you the best of luck.”
