Neal Barrett Jr. - The Prophecy Machine

“I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you are my guest, Master Finn. That contraption of yours is a wonder, a fine mechanical feat. You simply must take it apart and show me how it works.”

Julia gave a frightful croak, and dug her iron claws in Finn's back.

Calabus laughed, and pounded the table with his fist. “By damn, the little bugger understands me, does it not? How on earth did you manage that?”

He leaned in closer, bread crumbs drifting like snow from his beard. “What you got in its head, little wheels and such? A little magic too, I'd guess. I'm a fair crafter myself, but I couldn't do that.”

“It knows a few elementary words,” Finn said, “nothing more than that.”

“A great deal more than that,” Sabatino said, raising a wicked brow. It was the first time he'd spoken. He had spent his time leering at Letitia, taking some perverted form of pleasure watching her eat. He was dressed in slightly better fashion than his father, clad in faded lilac from head to toe.

“You forget, Finn, that we shared a great adventure yesterday. Your lizard is quite extraordinary, in a number of ways.”

“ My invention, now,” Calabus put in, waving his son aside, “is most unusual as well, if I do say so myself. What I have not accomplished, sir, is cramming so much complexity into such a tiny space. I fear that damned thing of mine simply gets bigger. I cannot contain it. It sprawls all over the place.”

“That's a bloody understatement,” Sabatino muttered to himself.

“You think I didn't hear that?” Calabus clenched his fists and glared. “You think I'm deaf? What have you done with your miserable life, boy , except go through my money like soup through a sieve? That, and father every squealing mutt in town. At least I've accomplished something. I've given something back to the world!”

“A pile of crap clogging up the cellar. The world's got plenty of that …”

Finn looked at Calabus with alarm. The old man's face was purple as a grape. His eyes began to bulge, and Finn feared they might pop out and severely injure someone. Even Letitia was stunned by the sight, and stopped eating long enough to watch.

Half a second shy of a stroke, Calabus' features faded to a splotched and dissipated red. Moments later, his wits slipped back in place.

“You will, I hope, accept my son's apology for his behavior. It shames me to say he's my own flesh and blood, this vile, repulsive excuse for a man.”

“I think I resent that, Father.” Sabatino picked up his plate and dashed it to the floor. “That is a hurtful thing to say, and quite unfair. I fear I must demand satisfaction, unless you take your words back.”

Finn couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, which drew a startled glance from Letitia, and angered Sabatino all the more.

“Are you challenging your own father to a duel? Is that what I heard you say?” Finn covered his mouth in an effort to restrain himself. “I thought you a blustering fool, but I fear I am way off the mark. You're clearly a flaming lunatic! Great Tails and Snails, man, you ought to be locked up somewhere …”

Sabatino sprang out of his chair. Before Finn could blink, the man was on the table coming at him on all fours, scattering dishes, saucers and cups. Spoons without handles, knives without blades. Platters and handicapped forks. Letitia cried out, ducking turnips and flying bits of bread.

Finn scarcely had time to bring up his arms and fend the man off before Sabatino's big hands closed about his throat.

Finn's chair collapsed, shattered into scrap. Finn hit the floor, flat on his back. Sabatino held on like a vise. Finn pounded the fellow's face, struck him on the nose, hit him in the mouth. Even in the fury of battle, he noticed Sabatino had a missing upper molar, and extremely bad breath.

Sabatino cursed him, howled like a loon, pummeled his head against the floor. Finn began to see stars. Not simply stars, but whole constellations. The Chicken, the Wand, the Three-Legged Witch. He had never been able to spot the other leg, but he saw it clearly now.

Letitia broke a plate over Sabatino's head. The plate, from three different races, blue and green and red, could never be mended again. Sabatino hardly noticed. Julia bit him on the foot, but he didn't seem to feel that.

Suddenly, his face disappeared behind short stubby wings, wings that were furry, scabby and black. Squeen William lifted his master off the floor, carried him off, and set him gently in his seat.

Finn came shakily to his feet. Letitia gave him a glass of turnip wine. Finn drank another glass as well, before he remembered he couldn't stand the stuff.

“That doesn't count as a fight,” Sabatino said. “Closer to a scrap. Don't imagine I'm through with you yet …”

“Indeed you are, though,” Calabus said, his face approaching a ruby shade again. “That man is a master of mechanical arts. I insist you treat him as such.

“Squeen William, I commend you for your help in this affair. My son would have murdered the fellow had you not stepped in to save his life. You will be severely scourged for laying your foul and nasty hands on your betters. I will personally flog you senseless until you scream for mercy. Then I will think of something worse after that. Moreover, you will not have dessert for a week. Again, I am grateful for your loyalty and your service to this house. Please get your miserable, stinking carcass out of here and bring me some cheese. Not that vile-tasting piss-colored stuff, I want the white.”

Squeen William quickly vanished behind the kitchen door. Finn, still awed by the creature's strength, wanted to thank him as well, but decided the poor fellow was in enough trouble now.

“And you, sir …” Calabus turned his rheumy eyes on Finn. “We go beyond all tradition and taste to even harbor you here. I acknowledge the debt, but it sickens me to have you in our house. Moreover, we do not care to be called lunatics. I would remind you that persons of high intelligence are often deemed cabbage-brained or goofy by those of lesser ilk. Moreover, I have observed over a long lifetime that mental stability is not all it's cracked up to be.”

Calabus wiped a greasy sleeve across his mouth, and reached for the decanter of turnip wine.

“Now. I hope we're done with that. Let's get back to subjects of greater interest. My modest contribution to science is what I'd like to pursue.”

“No,” Finn said, “I won't do that.”

“What?”

“I have no interest in your work. Not any, none at all.”

“Finn …” Letitia looked concerned.

“Don't worry, I can handle this.”

“I suggest you don't.” Sabatino grabbed the arms of his chair, poised to leap again. “You've had a taste of what happens out there. Our home is your only sanctuary. Don't make us any sorrier than we are that you sit at our table and sleep in our bed.”

Finn shook his head in wonder. “And we're safe in here? You've got killers lurking about in the dark. You've got some-some decrepit old maniac foaming at the mouth … Oh, sorry. No one's crazy here, I forgot.”

Calabus made a face. “Those are personal problems. No concern of yours.”

“I told him that,” Sabatino said. “Fellow doesn't know when to quit.”

“Desssert, sssirs and misss? Sssea Pudding, with tiny little thingss inssside. Little blackie thingsss.”

“Get out,” Sabatino shouted, “you vile, filthy Newlie dung! No offense, miss.”

“No-certainly not,” Letitia said, looking frightened, and just this side of dread.

“All of you, please.” Calabus spread his hands, looking weary, looking pained. “Master Finn and I were discussing my invention. I cannot wait to go over this together, sir, to get your invaluable suggestions. How it can be-ah-modified, changed for the better, made more useful to all mankind. Don't pretend you're not curious now, I can see the thirst for knowledge in your eyes. Damn your rotting flesh, Squeen, get that Sea Pudding in here before I drop hot coals in your ears and stick thorns in your eyes!