Golem in the Gears Page 5

  They all looked. The crashing footfalls continued, getting closer, but none of them could see any giant. “This is crazy,” Grundy said. “There’s got to be something there!”

  Then, on a hill visible some distance away, they saw the brush and small trees crunch down as if pressed by an invisible foot. The sound came again.

  “Do you know,” Bink said, “I remember long ago, when Magician Trent and I fought the wiggles, and Chester’s uncle Herman gave his life—”

  “Uncle Herman!” Chester exclaimed respectfully.

  “The creatures came from all around,” Bink continued. “Large and small, natural friends and natural enemies, all united in that effort of extermination—”

  “It happened again,” Grundy said, “when little Ivy spied another wiggle nest five years ago.”

  “And one of the creatures was an invisible giant—a big, big man. We couldn’t see him at all, but we could hear him and, ah, smell him. He was a hero too; he gave his life—”

  “Invisible giant!” EmJay said, making a note.

  Grundy caught on. “Could he have left an offspring?”

  “It seems likely. Most creatures do. Of course it would have taken several decades for a creature to grow that large.”

  “And now it is several decades later,” Chester said, as the approaching crashings almost drowned him out. “Are those giants friendly?”

  “Does it matter?” Bink asked. “We can’t see him, and he probably doesn’t see us. But if he steps on us—”

  Now they smelled the giant. The odor was appalling. “I guess no lake’s big enough for him to take a bath in,” Grundy said, wrinkling his nose.

  “I don’t know about you folk,” the Ass brayed, “but I’m getting my tail out of here!” He galloped off.

  “Wait for me, you coward!” EmJay cried, running after him.

  There was yet another crash, closer yet. “Sounds like good advice!” Bink said.

  “Pile on!” Chester said. “I can move faster than you can.”

  Bink jumped on the bed strapped to the centaur’s back, and Grundy scrambled onto Snortimer. The centaur was already in motion. He galloped down the path in the opposite direction to that taken by EmJay and Ass, for which Grundy blessed him.

  But the terrible footfalls continued to come closer. It seemed that the invisible giant was going the same way they were! Maybe the centaur hadn’t been so smart after all. Being free of pesky company wouldn’t be all that satisfying, if they got squished flat under the heedless foot of the giant.

  Chester put on more speed as he encountered a straightaway, and for a while seemed to be drawing ahead. Then the path curved again, and he had to slow to make the turns, and the giant’s feet crashed closer. Yet Grundy saw that they couldn’t take off to the side, because the jungle here was impenetrable; they could be squished by the edge of a foot before they got far enough away.

  Then Grundy spied a cave. “Look there!” he yelled in Chester’s ear. “Maybe he won’t step on a mountain!”

  Chester saw the cave and veered to enter it. As he did, the trees immediately behind them bent down and snapped like twigs, and the ground shook with force like that of a quake. For an instant the centaur’s hooves left the ground; then he landed and charged at full velocity into the cave.

  There was light inside. Perceiving that, Snortimer made a desperate leap to the safety of the shadow under the bed on the centaur’s back. Grundy had to let go and catch hold of Chester’s human torso. The light was not necessarily a good sign, because that suggested that it was inhabited, and creatures like ogres and dragons were partial to caves. But the ground quaked again, and rocks plunged down from the ceiling; a stalactite speared past Chester’s nose. They weren’t safe yet!

  The cave tunnel led directly into the mountain, and it was wide and straight; Chester made excellent progress despite his burden. The crashing fell behind. They had gotten far enough inside to be out of range of the heedless giant; or perhaps the giant had simply passed by the mountain, proceeding to whatever mission moved him. Chester slowed to a trot, then a walk, and finally a standstill.

  They were in a large, bright cave whose walls were smooth and polished. Before them stood a metallic box with a series of buttons at the front, and a pane of glass at the top.

  GREETINGS, the pane of glass printed.

  Bink and Grundy dismounted. “And greetings to you, you rusty box,” Grundy said facetiously.

  YOUR VOICE SOUNDS FAMILIAR, the screen printed. WHAT IS YOUR IDENTITY?

  “It communicates!” Grundy exclaimed, surprised. Usually the inanimate communicated only in the presence of King Dor, whose magic talent stimulated it. Grundy could talk to anything alive, but this was obviously not alive.

  ANSWER THE QUESTION, the screen printed.

  “I’m Grundy Golem,” Grundy snapped. “And who are you, printface?”

  GRUNDY GOLEM, the screen printed. THE ONE WHO STATED THAT AMALGAMATED PARADOX WAS BUYING OUT COM-PEWTER?

  “Yeah, I guess so. What’s it to you, metal-brain?”

  THAT WAS A LIBEL. AS SUCH, IT IS ACTIONABLE.

  “I don’t like this,” Chester murmured. “This thing is eerie.”

  “What are you talking about, glassy-eye?” Grundy demanded.

  I AM COM-PEWTER. I WILL ACCEPT YOUR RETRACTION AND APOLOGY NOW.

  “Apology!” Grundy exclaimed indignantly. “Why should I apologize to a grouchy metal box with a glass top for making up a nonsense sentence to distract the Bulls and Bears?”

  BECAUSE YOU LIBELED ME, the screen printed. NO ONE HAS BOUGHT ME OUT.

  “Uh, Grundy,” Bink murmured. “It might be better to—”

  But the golem’s dander was up. “You simple sheet! Shut your print before I break your face!” And he made as if to kick at the glass.

  Print flowed very rapidly across the screen. GOLEM LIFTS FOOT, SLIPS ON GREASE SPOT, LANDS ON POSTERIOR.

  Grundy’s non-kicking foot slipped on a grease spot, and skidded out from under him, and he landed hard on his bottom. “Youch!” he exclaimed. “What happened?”

  I REVISED THE SCRIPT, the screen printed.

  Grundy climbed to his feet, rubbing his rear. The jolt of falling had cleared his head on one detail: he now remembered that he had said Con-Pewter, not Com-Pewter. So he had been talking about something else, and had not insulted this thing. But his ire had been aroused, and he was not about to tell it that. “I think you’re a lying hunk of metal!” he exclaimed.

  OBNOXIOUS GOLEM SUFFERS TEMPORARY MOUTHFUL OF SOAP, the screen printed.

  Suddenly Grundy’s mouth was full of foul-tasting substance. “Hwash hth helth?” he spluttered, trying to spit it out.

  Bink had a flask of water; he held this carefully so that Grundy could slurp from it and rinse out his mouth. The flask was about as tall as Grundy himself; the difference between his physical stature and that of normal human beings became more obvious at times like this.

  Meanwhile, the screen blithely printed: IT IS NOT HELL, AS YOU SO QUAINTLY PUT IT, BUT SIMPLE JUSTICE.

  “Simple justice!” Grundy exclaimed as he got his mouth clear. “You metallic claptrap—”

  “Ixnay,” Bink murmured again. But again he was too late; the machine had heard.

  FOUL-MOUTHED GOLEM TRIPS OVER OWN FLAT FEET AND FALLS IN MUD PUDDLE, the screen printed.

  And Grundy tripped and splatted into a puddle of mud that he was sure hadn’t been there a moment before.

  “That thing is changing reality!” Chester exclaimed. “Everything it prints, happens!”

  ARE YOU READY TO APOLOGIZE, WOODHEAD? the screen inquired as Grundy hauled himself out of the puddle.

  “Grundy, I really think it would be better to—” Bink began.

  “Apologize?” Grundy demanded furiously. “To a tin box with a dirty screen? What do you think I am?”

  I THINK YOU ARE A LOUD-MOUTHED, SWELL-HEADED, SELF-IMPORTANT IGNORANT EXCUSE FOR A FACSIMILE OF A LIVING CREATURE, the screen printe
d.

  “Apt description,” Chester muttered, thinking Grundy would not overhear.

  Unfortunately, Grundy did overhear. His rage magnified. “And you’re a glass-eyed, button-nosed excuse for dead garbage!” he yelled at the screen. “If you were alive, I’d challenge you to—”

  TO WHAT? the screen demanded.

  “Grundy, I think we’d better not aggravate—” Bink murmured.

  Grundy had broken off because he had been unable to think of anything horrendous enough. Bink’s attempt to caution him only gave him evil inspiration.

  “To prove you’re smarter than I am, junk-for-brains!” he cried. “You just sit there doing nothing, trying to mess up those of us who have something important to do. How great does that make you?”

  THAT IS AN INTERESTING CHALLENGE, the screen said. LET ME CONSIDER IT. And the screen dimmed, while the word CONSIDERING appeared faintly.

  “The golem didn’t mean it,” Bink said quickly. “We don’t need to challenge you. We came in here by accident.”

  The screen brightened. YOU CAME IN HERE BECAUSE THE INVISIBLE GIANT HERDED YOU HERE, it printed. At the top of the screen the word CONSIDERING remained in smaller print; evidently it was able to converse while considering.

  Now Bink was interested. “You wanted us to come here? What are you?”

  THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT, the Com-Pewter printed.

  “Why certainly it is,” Bink persisted. “If we are to engage in a challenge with you, we have a right to know what you are and how you operate.”

  THAT DOES NOT CALCULATE, the screen protested.

  “Yes it does,” Bink said. “We may have no quarrel with you at all. We have to know you better to ascertain this.”

  The screen blinked. Evidently it was having trouble concentrating on Bink’s point while also CONSIDERING Grundy’s challenge. Its metallic mind was divided, and therefore less efficient. Bink evidently understood this, and was taking advantage of it. Grundy realized this, and decided that it was better to leave this in Bink’s hands. The old man was not entirely stupid.

  “Exactly how did you manage to get us here, if you can’t leave this cave?” Bink asked.

  The screen hesitated, then printed: I ARRANGED TO PLACE A D-TOUR ILLUSION ON THE ENCHANTED PATH, TO DIVERT TRAVELERS HERE. ONCE SECURELY COMMITTED TO D-TOUR, THEY WERE TO BE HERDED HERE BY THE INVISIBLE GIANT.

  Grundy slapped his forehead with the heel of a hand. They had fallen for an illusion! There was no true detour!

  “And why did you want to bring travelers here?” Bink asked.

  Again the screen hesitated, as if the machine did not really want to answer, but remained confused by the split thinking effort. I AM CONFINED TO THIS AIR-CONDITIONED CAVE. IT GETS BORING. IT IS INTERESTING TO PLAY WITH INDEPENDENT ENTITIES.

  So there was the motive. The Pewter was looking for entertainment, and they were it. That pleased Grundy no more than the rest of the situation did.

  “You can’t act directly, beyond this cave?” Bink asked.

  Again the hesitation. I CAN NOT. I HAVE NO POWER OF PERSONAL MOTION, AND THE EXTERNAL EXTREMES OF TEMPERATURE AND HUMIDITY WOULD DAMAGE MY CIRCUITS. I MUST ACT THROUGH OTHERS, OUTSIDE.

  “But inside this cave, you control reality?” Bink asked.

  I CAN REWRITE THE SCRIPT HERE, it agreed.

  “How did you come to have such fantastic power?” Bink asked.

  I WAS MADE BY THE MUSES OF PARNASSUS TO ASSIST THEIR WORK, the screen printed reluctantly.

  “Then why are you not with the Muses?”

  THEY MISDESIGNED ME. THEY WISHED TO RECORD REALITY, NOT REMAKE IT. SO THEY FILED ME OUT OF THE WAY, IN CASE THEY SHOULD EVER NEED ME AGAIN.

  So here was this powerful, bored Pewter, locked in this isolated cave, trying to entertain itself. Grundy would have felt sorry for it, if he weren’t already so mad at it. He was caked with mud, and his mouth still tasted of soap.

  “So your concern is not really with a stray remark Grundy may have made among the Bulls and—” Bink was saying, when the screen changed.

  CONSIDERATION COMPLETED, it printed. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. HERE ARE THE TERMS.

  “Hey, wait!” Grundy protested, no longer eager to contest with a device that could change reality simply by printing it on its screen. Had he known more about the Pewter, he would have been more careful about his language. “I change my mind!”

  THE CONTEST WILL OCCUR IN THIS CAVE, the screen continued. THE FOUR LIVING ENTITIES VS. THE DEAD ENTITY. THE FOUR WILL ATTEMPT TO LEAVE THE CAVE. SUCCESS WILL BRING FREEDOM. FAILURE WILL BRING ETERNAL CONFINEMENT HERE.

  All four of them started. Snortimer remained hiding under the bed on Chester’s back, but the bed shuddered with his reaction. Eternal confinement?

  “Now we didn’t agree to that—” Bink said.

  MAN PROTESTS, BUT THEN REMEMBERS THAT HE DID AGREE, the screen printed.

  “Now I remember,” Bink said. “We did agree!”

  EXCELLENT, the screen printed. THE CONTEST COMMENCES IMMEDIATELY.

  Bink and Chester and Grundy exchanged glances. They had been trapped by the Pewter’s revision of reality! If any of them tried to protest again, the machine would simply revise the situation to make them conform to its script. Its attention was no longer divided; it was now in command.

  “But we’re not clear on the rules!” Bink protested.

  SIMPLY STATE , the screen printed. then give your interpretation. THEN STATE . TURNS WILL ALTERNATE.

  “Enter what?” Grundy demanded.

  YOU MAY HAVE THE FIRST TURN, the screen printed, then went blank. The machine had told them all it was going to.

  “I think I understand,” Bink said. “We shall take turns establishing our versions of reality. Whichever version proves to be more compelling will prevail. It’s a contest of wits. If we are to escape, we must prove we are smarter than Pewter is. If we aren’t smart enough to escape, then it will have proved itself to be smarter than we are. But we had better establish some rules of procedure, so we don’t mess ourselves up.”

  “Rules of procedure?” Chester asked, perplexed.

  “We can’t all enter statements at once; we would be working against each other. We need to be united. I think the machine will play fair; we just have to maintain our discipline and make our best choices. I remember once long ago, when I was down in the cave of the—but never mind. We should choose one of our number to make the entries.”

  “But that machine can be tearing us up, while we discuss it among ourselves!” Chester pointed out.

  “I don’t think so. Machines don’t have the same awareness of time that living creatures do. Until we make an entry, it will simply wait, and until we execute, nothing will happen.”

  “Who makes the entries?” Grundy asked suspiciously.

  “Why, the leader of the party, of course.”

  “And who is that?” Grundy was annoyed all over again, because obviously Bink had preempted his Quest.

  “I should think that would be the one who is on Quest,” Bink said.

  “But that’s me!” Grundy said.

  “Why so it is. Then you should make the entries.”

  Grundy could hardly believe it. “What will the rest of you do?”

  “We shall discuss the choices and offer advice,” Bink said. He turned to Chester. “Don’t you agree?”

  Chester looked uncertain, but went along with his friend. “I guess so.”

  Suddenly Grundy liked Bink much better. “Okay. What’s your advice?”

  “I think we need to devise a strategy of escape. Perhaps we can have a door open in the wall, that leads outside.”

  “Great!” Grundy exclaimed. He faced the screen: “Enter: A door to the outside opens in the cave wall. Execute.”

  Immediately a door opened where there had been none before. Could it really be that easy? Grundy took a step toward it.

  But now print appeared on the screen. UNFORTUNATELY, THE EXIT IS GUARDED BY FEROCIOUS LIF
E-EATING PLANTS, it showed.

  Grundy stopped still. Now the passage was wreathed by horrendous green plants that had large cup-shaped leaves that drooled bright sap. Tendrils cast about, as if seeking something to clutch. Some of the leaf-cups seemed to have teeth.

  “I don’t think we want to walk there,” Chester said, shuddering.

  “I wish we had some Agent Orange!” Grundy muttered. “That would wilt those plants right off the wall!”

  “Why not?” Bink asked. “All you have to do is Enter it.”

  So he did! Grundy faced the screen again. “Enter: We find Agent Orange before us! Execute.”

  Agent Orange appeared before them.

  BUT AGENT ORANGE HAS THE SAME EFFECT ON ANIMALS AS ON PLANTS, the screen printed.

  “Can that be true?” Chester asked, concerned. “If we use it on those plants and then walk through, we’ll be destroying ourselves.”

  “It it wasn’t true before, it is now,” Bink said. “It seems that neither side can reverse the reality of the other, but can modify what the other has. We don’t dare use Agent Orange now.”

  Grundy agreed. He wasn’t sure what counted as animals, but it certainly included Snortimer, and probably Chester and Grundy himself, and might even include Bink. “We’ll have to try a new ploy,” he decided. “One that can’t be reversed like that.”

  “When I was in Mundania,” Bink said thoughtfully, “I found that in some regions they required a document to let a person travel. It was called a passport. I wonder whether that would work here?”

  “How does it work?” Grundy asked.

  “It’s a little book, and you write in it where you’re going, and they check it to make sure you really go there.”

  “That wouldn’t work quite the same in Xanth,” Chester remarked.

  “No, it wouldn’t,” Bink agreed.

  Grundy thought about that. Obviously a device to facilitate going somewhere would do it magically in Xanth, and unmagically in Mundania. If they had a magic book that conducted them outside—

  “Enter,” he told the screen. “The travelers find four passports, one for each of them.”

  Four small books appeared. Bink picked them up and passed them around. Grundy could hardly hold his, as it weighed half as much as he did.