Neal Barrett Jr. - The Prophecy Machine

“If that's ‘Thank you, Julia, defender of the weak, the frail, the helpless humankind,’ then you are quite welcome, Finn. I am glad to be of service anytime.”

“He really is grateful,” Letitia put in, “but you shouldn't talk like that.”

“Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!” Sabatino applauded. “The captain said you had a thing that sat atop your shoulder, but I scarcely believed him at the time. Poor fellow drinks, you know. What exactly is it? Whatever do you call it, Finn?”

“What I call it is none of your concern,” Finn said, feeling dizzy and weak now that the fight was over, and his attention was turned toward his bruises, abrasions, and sores. He was totally disgusted with the whole ridiculous event, with the town, with the Hatters, and especially with Sabatino himself.

“I'll trouble you to mind your own affairs,” he said, brushing some gross, unnamable filth from his clothes. “Do not ask me about my property again.”

He knew, though, that the lizard, so to speak, was out of the bag, there was no use trying to stuff it back again …

The towns, as towns are prone to do, began to meet the countryside; the crowded, sooty houses and grimy, odorous streets gave way to lonely, sooty houses, and unpaved, ill-smelling roads.

Desolation, it seemed, was the standard of beauty in Sabatino's land. There were no trees about, no brush, no foliage of any kind, nothing but a dull, brown furze that was clearly more dead than alive. Rocks, large and small, were key points of interest to the left and to the right. Finn guessed there were even more rocks ahead.

Finn, who had no sense at all of where they might be, was greatly surprised to see that their way led fairly close to the harbor itself. Over the roofs of country farms, he recognized the high masthead of the Madeline Rose , crowded in among vessels of various size and shape. Beyond lay the sapphire blue of the Misty Sea, and a dazzling array of purple-tinted clouds. He squeezed Letitia's hand, and Letitia squeezed back.

“Beautiful sight, yes?” Sabatino set his hands on his hips and squinted at the sea. “The very best view of our lovely country, as anyone who visits us will tell you-the way out of here.”

“I have to agree,” Letitia said. “But what a peculiar thing for you to say.”

“Oh, really?” Sabatino raised a haughty brow. “And you are enjoying your stay so far, miss?”

“He has a valid point,” Finn said. “I never thought I'd say it, but the sea looks very good to me.”

“I have a point, as you say-I live here. I put up with this nonsense every day of my life.”

Letitia frowned. “Every day?”

“All right, not every day. It just seems like every day, I suppose. And stop looking over your shoulder. They won't try for us again. Rules are rules, you know.”

“What rules?” Finn asked, “What are you talking about?”

“I don't have the time, craftsman, to go into that. Father has had a very trying time. I would like to get him home.”

“Indeed,” Finn said. “Before you go, I'd be grateful if you'd tell us which road will lead us back to the ship. No offense, but I'm hoping not to spend another hour here.”

Sabatino stopped, facing Finn again. “Take any street you like. None will do you any good.”

Finn frowned. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means the hour is nearly five in the afternoon. Everything closes at 4:46 p.m. Stores, shops, stalls and bazaars, streets and avenues. Whatever path you might take will be closed.”

“Why? Whatever for?”

“Because that's our custom, that's what we do.”

“And when does everything open again?”

“Why, at 4:46 in the morning, of course …”

Sabatino grinned, pleased at the shock and total desolation Finn displayed at the news. And even more delightful, the horror, the dismay, the total disbelief on the face of Letitia Louise.

Finn's hand trembled at the hilt of his sword. “I don't believe a word of this, Sabatino, not coming from you. I doubt you could tell the truth if you tried. Letitia and I will go on. I'm sure we'll find the roads aren't closed at all. And if it happens that they are, if there's a bare ounce of truth in what you say, we'll inquire about lodging and a decent meal. I'm certain there's at least one person in this dismal land of yours who will offer a stranger comfort for the night.”

Sabatino stared at Finn a moment, then his features broadened in a wicked, irritating smile.

“You think so, do you? Well, craftsman , that simply shows you're as great a fool as I imagined from the start. No one would offer you comfort , as you say, even if it wasn't after five, because this disgusting habit of hospitality, which appears to pervade elsewhere, is not practiced here.

“We have no homey little inns, hotels or such hovels as I've observed in foreign lands. You cannot eat or sleep in such a place in Port Nakeemo, or anyplace else in good Makasar.”

Sabatino's words caused Finn great alarm. He had thought the Master of Chairs feeble in the head, that of course there was always somewhere to stay, no matter where you went.

But what if Sabatino didn't lie? What if, for some bizarre, convoluted reason, he was telling the truth this time? What then of he and Letitia Louise, who was, even now, trembling visibly beside him, and not from the chill evening air?

“Why,” he asked, “Even if this-this insane custom of yours that turns away guests in your misbegotten land is real? Why does the town close up at four-forty-whatever you said? That makes no sense at all.”

“4:46. And it makes sense to us.”

“Yes, damn it all, but why?”

“Because the night belongs to them, that's why. Because they want it that way.”

“Who, those loonies in pointy hats? Snips and Clips, when do these fellows sleep?”

“Not them.”

“Who, then?”

“The Hooters.”

“Hooters …?”

“Hatters have the day. Hooters have the night.”

Sabatino gave a mighty sigh, obviously tired of explaining everyday facts to strangers with little minds.

“Hatters keep the day, all right? At eventide, they give way to Hooters, and Hooters rule the night. And spare me any more questions, Finn. I am quite exhausted, and Father isn't well. Things are as they are, the way they've always been. It's foolish to question why.”

“Please don't ask him,” Letitia said, “I really don't think I want to know.”

“Not only a quite attractive Newlie,” Sabatino said, “but one with common sense as well.”

He studied Letitia with a practiced eye, a man with a bent for exploration, mapping out places he thought he'd like to see.

Finn was put out, and thoroughly annoyed with the fellow's lies, his arrogant ways, his lecherous remarks, his lewd and obvious leers. There was no threat he could imagine that would make him linger in this most peculiar land.

“We'll be going,” he said, taking Letitia's hand. “I'm sure we'll find a place to stay with little trouble at all. If I see a-a Hooter, I'll run the fellow through.”

“You don't listen, do you, Finn?”

Sabatino squinted into the setting sun. His father had taken advantage of the stop to squat on the roughshod road. He had scarcely said a word since they left the outskirts of town. Still, Finn decided, the old man seemed to be feeling better, and was more alert now. Alert enough to follow his son's example, and inspect Letitia's parts.

“You think I'm joking about the dangers of stomping about in the night?” Sabatino went on. “Fine. Do it, then. Perhaps the Hooters won't notice you're there. Maybe they won't even notice your lovely friend. Maybe. But I shouldn't count on it, Finn.”