Lawrence Watt-Evans - Out of This World

“Ah,” Valadrakul said, “but you know much it does not.”

Most eyes turned toward the wizard, Raven’s among them.

“What mean you?” he asked.

“I mean that these gentlemen know many things that we cannot imagine, my lord-these tales of Messieurs Tolkien and Plunkett, an example. Who knows but that they do have a way to slay Shadow, but know it not?”

“But if we don’t know we know it, what good does it do?” Pel asked.

“Perhaps,” Valadrakul suggested, holding up a finger, “if men of all three worlds were to gather in ours, and together study the situation, a solution might be found.”

Captain Cahn looked around thoughtfully.

“You may have a point, uh… wizard,” he said. “If we all studied Shadow in your world.”

“Yeah, and he may not have a point,” Pel said. “Listen, I didn’t ask for all you people to come here; I didn’t ask anyone to put that thing in my basement. I’ve tried to be helpful, but I’m not going anywhere or studying anything. That’s up to you guys.”

“Well, I think I’d be willing to chance a visit to wherever these people are based,” Cahn said. “I’ve already risked visiting one alien universe; I don’t mind passing through another on the way home, and seeing what we can do there.” He looked around at his crew. “This would be purely voluntary, men; if you’d rather stay here and wait until rescue comes, that’s fine. Or if you want to go back to the ship and see about getting her airborne…”

“Oh, no,” Amy said, interrupting.

Everyone turned to her, and Pel realized that she had hardly said a word throughout the entire meeting.

“Nobody’s going near that ship,” she said. “It’s on my land, and nobody’s messing with it.”

“But, madam…” Cahn began.

“ No , Captain!” she said, loudly. “I don’t know what’s going on, really I don’t-I’ve listened to all this, and I have no idea how much of it is for real, if any of it is, and if it’s not I don’t know which of you are in on the gag and which aren’t, but whatever the truth is, nobody here, not one of you, is going to set foot on my land or inside that ship until I do know exactly what’s going on! And maybe not then!”

“My lady,” Valadrakul said, “everything said here today is purest truth, I swear by the Goddess.”

“I don’t believe that,” Amy replied.

“What part don’t you believe?” Cahn asked.

Amy looked around uncertainly. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not sure I believe any of it!”

“My lady,” Valadrakul said, “we can easily prove to you the reality of our native world; ‘tis but a few steps to take you there, along the passage, down the stairs, and across the cellars. A step through the wall, and you can see our world with your own eyes.”

“Oh, no,” Amy said. “I didn’t ask for any ship to fall in my back yard any more than this person wanted a space warp in his basement.” She waved at Pel.

Raven turned his attention to Ted, who held up his hands. “Oh, no,” he said. “I’m not like Ms. Jewell there; I do know what to believe, and I don’t believe a word of any of this. I’m enjoying the show, really I am-it’s a pretty good story-but I don’t for a minute think any of it is real. I suspect I’m asleep and dreaming the whole thing, I really do, but if that’s not it then all of you must be crazy. And I’m not letting any escaped lunatics take me anywhere, thank you!”

Cahn turned to Nancy, who stood in the kitchen doorway.

“Don’t look at me ,” she said.

Valadrakul addressed Susan and said, with a slight bow, “That leaves you, my lady.”

“I’m not interested,” Susan said, shaking her head. “Not at all. I saw enough of war when I was a little girl.”

“Well, then,” Raven said, “’twould seem we have none of Earth who would join us.”

“What about those people you contacted telepathically?” Pel asked. “Would any of them want to help?”

Cahn turned to Prossie, who leaned her head back and started counting them off on her fingers.

“Well,” she said, “there was Carleton Miletti. Every time we tried to contact him he was doing something dangerous, like driving a groundcar at very high speed, so we didn’t force a contact for fear of distracting him and getting him killed, and he never responded to our presence.”

“Doesn’t sound promising,” Pel commented.

“There was Angela Thompson-she’s three years old. I don’t think she’d be much help. A very sweet little girl, though; she called us Mr. Nobody.”

Nancy smiled.

“There was a man named Ray Aldridge who claimed to be a… a psychic,” Prossie said. “He claimed to read minds and see the future, but we think he was lying. We never found any evidence of any real parapsychic abilities.”

“Still,” Pel said, “he might do.”

Prossie looked up at Pel. “I suppose so,” she said. “He lives in a place called California; is that anywhere near here?”

“No,” Pel admitted.

“We could phone him, though, and ask him to fly out,” Amy suggested.

“Phone?” Squire Donald looked about in polite puzzlement.

“Fly?” Raven turned toward Amy.

“You have aircraft?” Cahn asked, startled.

“Of course we do,” Pel said. “Ms. Thorpe, did you get an address for him?”

Prossie shook her head. “No,” she said, “but he lives in… in Oakville, maybe? Oakmont?”

“Oakland?” Ted suggested.

“That could be it,” Prossie agreed.

“Big town,” Ted remarked.

“Who else?” Pel asked.

“Well, Oram Blaisdell,” Prossie said. “But he’s an old man, and his neighbors think he’s crazy.”

“Where is he?”

“Tessenti? Something like that.”

“Tessenti?”

“Tessenti, Tennessity, something-I don’t remember.”

“Tennessee?” Amy suggested.

“That’s it, yes,” Prossie said, thankfully.

“Any others?”

“One old woman who died,” Prossie said. “She was in a place called Alice Springs-I’m pretty sure that wasn’t anywhere near here.”

“It’s in Australia, I think,” Pel said.

“And that’s almost all that we even got names for,” Prossie said. “There was one more, I think-a girl in another country, who sometimes spoke another language instead of English. Her name was Gwyneth something, I think.”

“Sounds Welsh,” Nancy remarked.

“That was the other language, yes,” Prossie agreed. “She was about fifteen, I think.”

“Not much help,” Pel said.

“None of them are,” Susan agreed.

“Where does this Carleton Miletti live?” Pel asked.

“I don’t know,” Prossie said. “We never got a strong enough contact to read any place names.”

“Damn. Well, this Aldridge-you said he’s out in Oakland, California? And he’s a psychic advisor?” Pel began walking toward the kitchen as he spoke.

“Uh… something like that,” Prossie agreed.

“Fine.” Pel reached around the kitchen door and picked up the phone receiver; he said, “Just a minute.” Then he stepped around the corner and pulled the phone book from the shelf.

“Nancy,” he said, thumbing through the black-bordered pages at the front of the directory, “do you know the area code for Oakland?”

“No,” she said, unhappily. “Area codes are page 29, though.”

“Got it, I think.” He dialed (415) 555-1212.

The motley collection in the other room waited silently while Pel spoke on the phone; a moment later he appeared in the kitchen doorway and announced, “Unlisted. Seems stupid for a psychic to have an unlisted number, but he does.”