Heaven Cent (24 page)

“B cpz!” the man exclaimed, frowning. “Ipx eje zpv hfujoifsf?”

Dolph decided to brave it through. “I'm sorry, I don't speak your language,” he said.

The man stopped. He peered at Dolph. “Uibu't Yboujbo!” he said. “Eje zpf dpnf uisphi uif hpvse?”

“If you will just please let me out, I won't bother you any further,” Dolph said, knowing it was useless. Why hadn't he thought of the problem of language? How was he ever going to get out of this?

“Dpnf xjui nf,” the man said firmly, taking Dolph by the wrist. “J ibwf b usbotmujpo dpnovufs jo uif mbc.”

He hauled Dolph back along the path to a sinister-looking chamber. He shoved Dolph inside and shut the door. “Cvu gjstu J'e cfuufs gfudi zpv tpnf dmpuift.” Dolph heard his heavy footsteps retreating.

Immediately he tried the doorknob, but the door was locked. He was prisoner of the Mundane! How much worse could this get?

Then Nada slithered in through the crack under the door. “Nada!” he exclaimed. “Can you help me get out?”

The snake slithered back under the door. After an interminably short time she returned—with a key in her mouth.

“Great!” Dolph exclaimed, taking it. He put it in the keyhole, and turned it, and it worked. In a moment the door swung open and he was out.

But what was he going to do now? He still had no clothing, and he still could not speak the strange language of the Mundanes! Even if he managed to get out the locked gate at the end of the path, he would be in trouble.

Then he heard the tramp, tramp, of the man, returning.

He ran around the building and hid. There was nothing else he could think of at the moment.

The man saw the open door and made an exclamation of disgust. Then he went in; Dolph heard him doing something inside the building.

Maybe he could run around and slam the door and lock the Mundane in! Dolph hurried to the front, caught the edge of the door, and pushed it closed.

Then he realized that he had left the key in the keyhole. It was now on the Mundane man's side of the door! How stupid could he get!

He started to run back down the path, though he knew this was useless; the man would only catch him again. But then the man's voice called from the building. “Wait, boy! Listen to me!”

It was in Dolph's language!

Dolph stopped. If the man spoke his language, he must know of Xanth, and that meant—

“You are from Xanth, aren't you?” the man called, opening the door. “You came through the gourd? Don't run from me; I am your friend.”

“But you tried to lock me up before!” Dolph called back.

There was a moment, and strange sounds came from the building. Then the man said: “Only to keep you from harm while I fetched some clothing for you. See, here it is.” He held up a pile of cloth.

Dolph needed the clothing, so he decided to trust the man part way. “Stay out of sight,” he whispered to Nada. Then he walked back to the building.

The man had some sort of box set up. “Fydfmmfou!” he said.

“Excellent!” said the box.

“The magic box knows the language!” Dolph exclaimed, surprised. “But how can magic work in Mundania?”

The box spoke gobbledygook to the man. The man listened, then replied in similar nonsense. It was no wonder the Mundanes weren't much, Dolph thought, because their language was ludicrous.

Then the box spoke to Dolph: “There is no magic here. This is a computer that is programmed to translate one language into the other, and vice versa. This is a task normally accomplished by the magic of Xanth, more readily, but we must make do with our relatively crude devices. I am Turn Key, the proprietor of this gateway. Who are you?”

“I am—” Dolph hesitated, but concluded that the truth probably would not hurt him, and would be a lot more honest. “Prince Dolph of Castle Roogna.” But he did not say anything about Nada, just in case. If Turn locked him up again, she would still be free.

The box went through its ritual. “A prince! My, my! Well, Prince Dolph, put on your clothing, and we shall talk.”

Dolph got into the clothing. It was somewhat large and loose, but would do. Meanwhile, Turn explained the situation as he knew it.

“There are few convenient connections between Xanth and Mundania. The best established is the isthmus, which leads to any part of Mundania, and any time. Any Xanthian who uses that route is magically logged in, and returns to the same time in Xanth that he departed, allowing for the duration of his stay in Mundania. The Mundanes have no such assurance; they enter Xanth only by a fluke accident, and will return randomly unless extremely cautious. Thus it is, in effect, a one-way portal; Xanthians can safely cross, but not Mundanians.” He paused, glancing at Dolph. “Are you following me?”

“Oh, sure. I know about that,” Dolph said airily, though actually it was somewhat complicated and dull for him. “We can go there, but they can't come here, mostly.”

“An apt summation. However, there are other ways, as you have discovered. Any Xanthian who sails out far enough from the coast will revert to Mundane status, and then have great difficulty returning; that is a one-way trip.”

Dolph was suddenly glad they had not tried that route. To travel into Mundania was bad enough, but to be trapped here forever—ugh!

.    “And then there is the gourd,” Turn continued. “This is utilized mainly by the night mares and storks, when they have deliveries in this region. Mundanes don't have much magic, but they do have bad dreams, and babies. It's a horrible inconvenience for the mares and storks to loop all the way out to the isthmus and back, so we maintain this portal for them. If any get lost, it is my job to locate them and bring them back before the Mundanes discover them. Fortunately they don't realize their significance; they think the storks are wood ibises. The night mares have it easier in a certain respect, because they travel by night and are invisible, but there was this time when a mare foundered, and—but I digress. The point is, this is a limited portal, very seldom used by human folk, because they don't enter the gourd physically. Which brings us to you, Prince Dolph: how did you even know of this route, let alone utilize it?”

Dolph was concluding that Turn was legitimate, because he did know a lot about Xanth that true Mundanes did not know. Certainly he had the big gourd here, and knew its function, and had it well guarded. If the man was willing to help—well, Dolph did need help. So he decided to be candid—but still not to tell about Nada, just in case. “I am looking for the Heaven Cent, which I think is on a skeleton key. But I couldn't search Centaur Isle for it, so I am trying to do it through Mundania, where there are no centaurs. I have a friend who is from the gourd, and he knew this route, so I used it. But I forgot about the clothing and the language.”

Turn frowned. “This is one region in which Mundane geography is not identical to Xanth geography,” he said. “The centaurs have used magic—they do not like it in the form of talents, but do use it as a tool—to merge over a hundred little keys into one big isle. So while this is No Name Key here in Mundania, it is part of the main Centaur Isle in Xanth.”

“That could make it easier,” Dolph said excitedly. “Is one of those hundred keys called Skeleton?”

“Now that is an interesting thought! But I regret that I know of no such key. We have Big Pine Key, and Ramrod Key, and Little Torch Key, and Pumpkin Key and Happy Jack Key and Hurricane Key and Friend Key and Teakettle Key and Mule Key and Man Key and Woman Key and Rattlesnake Key and Don Quixote Key, but alas no Skeleton Key.”

“Then I will have to search them all,” Dolph said. “I must find the Heaven Cent.”

“Forgive me, Prince, but I can not allow that. With your problem of language and custom, you would soon get in trouble and give yourself away, and that would be bad for all of us. The nature of this situation must never be known to Mundanes.”

“I don't care what happens, I have to find the Heaven Cent! It's my Quest!”

“I will help you locate your artifact. Then you can return to Xanth and be out of danger.”

Dolph realized that there could indeed be danger, because he had no real knowledge of Mundania. He could encounter the fabulous Mundane monsters called bares who were reputed to be covered with fur, illogically. Or wails, who were said to be as big as the Xanth creature who ran along the surface of a lake while howling and leaving little prints—the prints of wails—but the Mundane variant mysteriously swam under the water, where no prints showed. Or rattlesnakes, supposedly carrying babies' rattles with their tails in order to scare folk, ludicrous as that was, and if the folk didn't act frightened, then the snakes would poison them. Or lions, who were believed never to lie to their victims, merely to eat them, which notion did not comfort Dolph a great deal. Certainly he had no desire to encounter any of these crazy creatures without his magic!

But all he said was, “Help me?”

“Magic is very limited in Mundania, but it does exist in mutated form. They call it—don't laugh, now—'science.' ”

Dolph laughed anyway; he couldn't help it. “Silence?”

“No ell-sound in it: science. It has odd rules, and only the most trained folk can understand the more sophisticated aspects, but fortunately they make artifacts that do the magic for ordinary folks.”

“Amulets,” Dolph said, understanding. “That makes sense. But what's so hard to understand about 'science'?”

Turn smiled. “Let me give you an example. Suppose you take a lamp that shines a ray of light toward another person.”

“A sunbeam,” Dolph agreed.

“Yes, a sunbeam will do. Use a mirror to reflect it toward your friend. That light travels at the speed of light, wouldn't you agree?”

“Of course! Everything travels at its own speed, whether it is a ray of light or a dragon.” Dolph was pleased to demonstrate that he had not slept through all of his centaur tutor's lessons, just the dull ones.

“And suppose your friend also has a mirror, and he sends another ray toward you, and the two rays meet in the middle.”

“They would pass right through each other,” Dolph said promptly. “Rays hardly give each other the time of day; they are very selfcentered.”

“To be sure. Now suppose you hitched a ride on your ray, and your friend rode his ray. At what speed would you be approaching each other?”

Oops—this was getting into higher mathematics, not Dolph's strong subject. But he did not want to seem stupid, so he wrestled with it. It reduced to the proposition of one plus one—his speed plus his friend's speed. Now if he could only remember what one plus one was!

Suddenly, in a burst of genius, he had it. “Two!” he cried victoriously. “Twice the speed of light!” His head felt hot, but he knew he had solved the problem.

“Would it surprise you to learn that according to science, you would be approaching each other at only the regular speed of light?” Turn inquired.

“That would be ridiculous! If my friend stood still, I would move toward him at the speed of light. If he came toward me at the same speed, we would meet twice as fast.”

“Science says that you would only seem to meet each other twice as fast. Actually time would slow down for each of you, so that you really did not approach each other faster than—”

“I'll never understand that!” Dolph cried. “It is nonsense!”

“Nevertheless, science says it is so, and operates on similar principles. As I said, it is difficult for ordinary folk to understand. But it works, and that is what counts.”

“No wonder the Mundanes seem crazy,” Dolph muttered. “Their animals and their thinking are backwards!”

“Perhaps. But a young man like you, thinking the sensible Xanth way, would have immediate trouble with Mundanes. This is another reason we protect the access. It is especially dangerous because it is a direct connection. By that I mean that a Mundane could as readily pass into Xanth this way as a Xanthian can enter Mundania, and there is no time differential. Time is the same in each realm, so a Mundane could enter Xanth, then return with the tale to Mundania and tell others, and then there could be-     ”

“Another Wave!” Dolph exclaimed, horrified.

“Another wave of Mundane invasion,” Turn agreed. “Certainly we don't want that! So you see how important it is that this remain secret. If any Mundane caught on to your true origin, and followed you back to this garden—”

“I understand!” Dolph agreed. The man had really made his point. “Tell me how I can check for the Heaven Cent, and I shall return to Xanth as fast as I can!”

“Excellent. It happens that I have a device that can orient on particular items. I use it to locate things I have lost, which I do frequently. It functions by science, but I think is similar enough in operation to be satisfactory for you.” He rummaged through a drawer. “Ah, here is one! It is verbally programmed, which means I had better set it for you, but then it will remain locked on the target. This should enable you to locate your artifact, if it is anywhere within Mundania.”

“Great!” Dolph exclaimed. “Tell it to find the Heaven Cent!”

“Of course the concept has to be in its limited lexicon,” Turn cautioned. “Otherwise it won't be able to work, because it won't grasp the nature of the thing it seeks. Here, let me activate it.” He held up a thing a bit like a clumsy snake. “Heaven Cent,” he said.

There was no reaction. The thing just lay in his band, doing nothing.

“But perhaps if I connected it to the larger storage of the computer—” Turn said. He set the device on the table and attached two wires to it. He connected the other ends of the wires to little plug-in spots on the box that was doing the translation. “Heaven Cent,” he repeated.

This time mere was a ping! “It has locked on!” Turn said, pleased. “Excellent. Now it will work for you. Hold out your left wrist.”

Dolph did so. Turn wrapped the device around it, fastening what turned out to be a strap. On the back of Dolph's wrist was a square shape with a glowing dot like an eye.

“Now Mundanes will take this for a watch,” Turn said. “But actually—”

“A watch!” Dolph agreed. “Because its eye watches for the Heaven Cent! Science is starting to make sense after all!”