Luster slid out and stood up. He was tall, wheyfaced, and thin. He wore filthy brown corduroy pants and work boots, and was shirtless except for the top section of his long underwear, which had originally been white, probably sometime early in the last decade. He wore a tattered, sweat-stained baseball cap of the style not seen since the last time Ty Cobb led the American League in batting. His irises were so pale they were almost indistinguishable from the white of the eye.
'Hullo,' Luster said, smiling. 'Ma'am,' a nod to Linda.
'Hi, Luster,' Linda said.
'Whut kin ah do for y'all?'
Gene said, 'Gee, Luster, we hate to bother you, but we kinda wanted some idea of when you guys think you can get the Voyager back on-line.'
'Say whut?'
'Uh, get it working again. Have any idea when?'
'Dolbert? You hear that?'
A high-pitched cackling came from underneath the craft. It sounded at once derisory, ironic, and regretful.
'Dolbert says he heard you.'
'Uh-huh. Well?'
'Dolbert? Gene wants to know when.'
Chittering, with a hint of sarcastic skepticism.
'Dolbert says it beats the livin' bejesus outta him,' Luster reported.
Linda sighed. 'We'll have to do it by magic.'
'How?' Gene asked.
'Conjuring. I'll just conjure her.'
'Can you do that?'
'Never tried it. When Incarnadine was stranded last time, I was tempted. But this time I think I'm going to try it.'
'Well, that brings up a lot of philosophical questions,' Gene said.
Linda suddenly lost enthusiasm. 'Yeah, I know. For instance, will it be the _real' Melanie, or just some fake? Like most of the stuff I whip up.'
'Most of your stuff is pretty permanent,' Gene said.
'Yeah. Good thing, too. Imagine suddenly losing your clothes. Embarrassing. But that doesn't mean they're real. Even if it worked, if I could conjure Melanie, I could never really be sure that the real one wasn't still off in a wild aspect somewhere, lost and alone.'
Linda slumped to a wooden crate. 'Damn it.'
'Somebody in trouble?' Luster asked.
Gene explained.
'Wull, that shore is a pity. Hear that, Dolbert?'
Sympathetic chirring.
'Yeah, I know it. Dolbert says he's shore sorry, but he don't know whut all he kin do beyond whut he's doin' right now.'
'That's okay, Luster,' Linda said. 'I'm sure you guys are trying your best.'
Dolbert slid out from underneath the Voyager and stood. He didn't look much like his brother. He was short and his eyes were darker. He wore no shirt under his bib overalls. His baseball cap was, if possible, even more rat- chewed and moth-eaten than his brother's. Grime covered him. His smile was wide and perpetual.
He guffawed and pointed to the crate Linda was sitting on.
Gene turned to Luster. 'What did he say?'
'He says maybe that new particulator we ordered'll do the trick.'
'Particulator?' Linda said, getting up.
'Yup. We done ordered it in one of them whatchucall yore aspects. Lord Incarnadine told us it might be had there. And shore enough, it were.'
'What's it do?' Gene asked.
'Danged if we know. Jus' know that one that's in the Voyager's cracked.'
'Oh. And you think that might be the problem?'
'Could be. We replaced a couple parts so far. Dolbert even built one or two. They didn't do the trick. But this one jes might.' Luster took off his cap, exposing a thicket of yellow hair. He scratched his head. 'Then agin, maybe not.'
Gene asked, 'When do you figure you can install this gadget?'
'Dolbert?'
Dolbert laughed and shrugged his narrow shoulders.
Luster said, 'Dolbert says there ain't nothin' standin' in the way o' doin' it right now.'
Gene dragged up another crate, this one empty. He sat.
'Mind if we watch you doctors operate?'
Dolbert giggled.
Thirteen
Seacoast
Peele Castle sat with its back to the sea atop a high chalk cliff. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, a fantasy of high towers and crenellated battlements. The sun declined behind it, throwing a sheen of reddish light over the water. Gulls wheeled in the evening sky, white against the darkening blue. Far out to sea, the dark stripe of a squall line edged the horizon.
Thaxton and Dalton sat on a knoll overlooking the scene.
'Looks like bad weather coming in,' Thaxton said.
'Yup. God, isn't it picturesque?'
'It is that.'
'_It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea,'' Dalton recited. '_That a maiden there lived, whom you may know, by the name of Annabel Lee.''
'Keats?'
'Poe.'
'Oh, yes. American.'
'Here's the princess.'
They both stood as Dorcas approached barefoot, sandals in hand.
'Good evening, gentlemen. It was a nice walk, wasn't it? It seems we're the first to arrive.'
'Couldn't pick a more charming spot to spend the night,' Dalton commented.
'I've spent many a night in Peele,' she said. 'When I was young we came here often. I spent whole summers here.'
'Are there any local inhabitants?' Thaxton asked.
'No. This land is deserted. The population disappeared long ago. Plague was the cause, it's thought, though it happened so far back, no one is sure.'
'Pity. It's beautiful country. Reminds me of England a bit.'
'This world is a variant of Earth, and this land was very similar to England.'
Dorcas looked landward across the grassy plateau. 'Here comes everybody.'
A line of horse-and-riders was approaching, servants and others walking behind.
'Your Highness,' Thaxton said, 'may I ask about the jewel you wear on your forehead?'
'Yes, of course. It symbolizes the Interior Eye, the Eye of Yahura the Seer. It has to do with the religion of my adopted country, my husband's native land.'
'How interesting. I'd like to hear more about it.'
