Bearing an Hourglass (36 page)

He used the Hourglass to return to his mansion in Purgatory. The instrument performed sluggishly; it was tired. So was he; the success of his mission provided him little elation.

He checked his mailbox. There was a single package in it, a small one. He opened it immediately, curious what anyone would send to Chronos—and discovered Sning!

A brief note was enclosed, in feminine script.
Chronos—I couldn’t keep Sning; he’s yours. He told me this would reach you. Best wishes, Helga
.

Norton stared at the message until it blurred. What a fine woman! Was there no way he could thank her?

Sning uncoiled, slid across his hand, and curled around his finger. Squeeze.

The separation had been brief, in Norton’s terms, but eight years in another sense and an eternity emotionally. “Oh, Sning, I’m so glad to have you back! You say I can thank Agleh?”

Right there, in the Twenty Questions fashion, Sning told him. All he had to do was make a quick trip to a moment just before his interaction with her time and mail her a letter—Sning had the address, which he could explicate by squeezing as Norton pointed to letters and numbers on a sheet of paper—that would reach her after their separation. Theoretically, the mails were magically enhanced to give one-day service, but in practice it was seldom so; there would be no paradox of premature delivery. He could even make it a package, containing some suitable gift that would please her.

“Yes,” Norton agreed. Suddenly he felt much more
positive. He would shop for an appropriate gift; Sning would help.

He glanced once more at the note before putting it away.
Best wishes, Helga
.

Helga—her name forward, of course.

Now he remembered; he had known Helga in his younger days, while still employed within the system. She had come to him, inquiring, “Haven’t we met before?” And he had been so flattered by the come-on from such a pretty and sensible woman that he had not demurred. They had kept company for a couple of years before the exigencies of his wanderlust and her professional nursing career had required an amicable separation. She had been his dearest female friend, prior to Orlene, and he felt a lingering fondness as he thought of her, even these six years later.

Odd that he hadn’t thought about her before, or recognized her when he encountered her in his guise of Chronos. Obviously she had remembered him, thereafter, though she hadn’t said so.

Odd? No, not odd at all! He had not known her in his first existence; she had been added to his experience as Chronos. His past had been changed—without paradox.

Ironic that he should have that wonderful experience of her company only in memory, not in reality. Yet for her, surely, it had been fully real, and perhaps that had been her reward for helping him balk Satan. She had kept his secret, too; never had she mentioned Chronos, or spoken any backward word.

He still owed her. He would send her a really nice gift.

Whistling, he walked on into his mansion.

–12–

“You have a caller, sir,” the butler informed him.

“I’m not at home to callers at the moment,” Norton said. “I’ve just had a very wearing session; the Hourglass and I must rest.”

“Sir, he will not be denied. He is angry.”

Norton paused. “Satan? I’m not surprised. All right, I’ll tell him to go to Hell myself.”

The Prince of Evil was literally fuming. A haze of sulfur smoke surrounded him, and his horns were showing. “You interfered with My demons!” He rasped, a small tongue of fire showing at his lips as he spoke.

“They interfered with my business,” Norton said curtly. “Now you get out of my mansion; I have no use for you.”

“You are messing up My whole program!”

“Good for me! I don’t like being deceived or used for evil purpose.”

“I will have satisfaction!” Satan said, his eyes flaming as he drew off one of his red gloves. He did not look at all benign now!

But Norton was fed up. “Go to Hell!”

Fire puffed out of Satan’s ears. He raised his fist to Norton, clenching his glove.

Norton extended his white cloak. “Hit me,” he invited.

“No,” Satan snarled past lengthening tusks. He was enraged, but not foolish; he knew the defense of Time. Instead he hurled his glove directly at Norton’s face. “You will go—without return!”

Norton ducked the glove, though he knew it couldn’t hurt him. But it puffed into smoke, and the smoke surrounded him. He could see nothing. He stepped to the side, out of it.

He found himself on a green planet, looking at a Glob spaceship. He was back in the antimatter cluster!

“Damn it, how does he do that?” Norton demanded. “I didn’t ask to come here again!”

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

Norton chuckled grimly. “Well, at least I have you with me, Sning! Do you know how I can return promptly home?”

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

“You’re not sure? But I understood Satan couldn’t do anything to me without my consent.”

Squeeze.

“But I didn’t consent to this!”

Squeeze, squeeze.

That made him pause. Was Sning agreeing or disagreeing? “You say I did consent, tacitly?”

Squeeze.

“This time you’re wrong, Sning! What could possibly interest me here?”

Then he spied a shape in the air. He squinted, and discovered a winged unicorn bearing a lovely young woman. Excelsia on the Alicorn, both looking splendid, coming here.

Squeeze.

Norton sighed. “Point made,” he agreed ruefully. Excelsia was a lovely young woman with whom he could interact on a continuing basis, since her time flow matched his. That did indeed appeal to him! “This must be the Magic-Lantern Cloud, instead of the globular cluster—as good a place to relax as any.”

Squeeze, squeeze.

“You say no? You mean Satan is up to something new?”

Squeeze.

“And he figures to keep me here so he can perform his mischief without my opposition?”

Squeeze.

“Then I’d better return immediately!”

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

The Alicorn landed. Excelsia bounced off and ran toward him. Her gown this time was filmy white and low-cut, and she was better endowed than he had realized; Norton found that run fascinating. “O Sir Norton!” she panted, her bosom heaving prettily. “I never thanked you properly for your valiant assistance—and when I returned, you were gone! I have searched all over the planet for you!”

“Well, I—”

She reached him and flung her arms about him. “Now at last I have found you!” She planted a delightful kiss on his mouth. He felt as if his feet were leaving the ground. “Thank you so much!” she breathed.

“You’re welcome,” he said. What an armful she was! “But I regret I must depart, because—”

Her pretty face misted over. “Depart?”

“There is pressing business back on Earth, and—”

Two big, shining tears formed in her lovely eyes. “But, Sir Norton, I have so much to show you!”

He gulped. How much he wanted to see what she had to show! But he had learned the hard way not to ignore Satan’s mischief. “Uh, can I take a rain check?”

“A rain check!” she flared. There was a crack of thunder nearby, and rain began to threaten from a ballooning gray cloud.

Excelsia wrenched herself from his arms and fled toward her steed. “You can have a deluge for all I care, sirrah!”

Norton ran after her, sadly out of sorts. “Wait, Excelsia! I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just that—”

She reached the Alicorn, who brought his horn about to bear directly on Norton. Norton drew up short, not
comfortable with that, though probably this creature could not hurt him. He didn’t want to hurt the Alicorn, either.

“I’m sure you don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Excelsia said primly. “Go on home right now, sirrah, and I wish the other woman good fortune hunting!”

“There
is
no other woman!” Norton protested. But it occurred to him that, had Agleh been in his time frame, she would have been an excellent prospect; indeed, in the past she
had
been—well, never mind that. And of course he still felt love for Orlene, and there was always Clotho, the one who really understood, so he wasn’t being quite candid.

“Then you will stay?” Excelsia said, brightening.

How much harm could there be in a short stay? He had wanted to rest for a while, anyway.

Squeeze, squeeze.

“Shut up!” Norton snapped guiltily.

“Well!” Excelsia said, affronted.

“No, I didn’t mean you!” Norton protested, taking a step toward her. But the Alicorn snorted and leveled his horn again, stopping that. “I was talking to Sning!”

The Damsel frowned attractively. “I remember Sning, the good adviser and strange steed. Does he tell you I be not good enough for you, sirrah?”

“No, of course not! He tells me there will be great trouble back on Earth if I don’t return at once.”

She mollified. “Then perchance you must go, Sir Norton. I regret my dainty outburst of temper. I will wait somewhat patiently for your return.”

Would Satan ever let him come back here, after he had once again balked whatever mischief Satan was hatching now? Norton brushed that thought aside. “Thank you,” he said gratefully. “I really wish I could be with you right now, but it must be duty before pleasure.” He concentrated, willing himself home.

Nothing happened. Excelsia watched him with curiosity. “Belike you have mislaid your way?”

Norton realized that he had never made this trip on his own volition; Satan had conducted him each way. He
didn’t know how to return! “I seem to have done that,” he admitted, abashed.

The space-blob had been sitting quiescently all this time. Now it irised open a wart. A man emerged. It was Bat Dursten. “Say, get a glimmer o’ that there Femme!” he exclaimed.

The little Bem followed the spaceman out. It had grown some, but remained cute as a bug eye. It changed into a wheeled robot in the shape of a motorcycle. Dursten mounted, and the robot-Bem-cycle churned across to join the party.

The Alicorn reared with alarm, spreading his wings. “What manner of thing be this?” Excelsia demanded, drawing her knife.

The Bemcycle angled its faceted headlamp to cover them as it proceeded. “Uh, it’s okay,” Norton said quickly. “It’s just Bat Dursten, spaceman galore. And his Bem.”

Her fair brow wrinkled with perplexity. “Bum?”

“Bem. An acronym for Bug-Eyed-Monster.”

Dursten arrived and jumped off his vehicle. “Bemme,” he clarified. “She’s a Femme-Bem. ’Course, she’s still young, not for messing with—but ain’t she pretty?”

The little Bemme shifted back to normal form, a blob with tentacles and huge insectoid eyes.

Excelsia screamed, and the Alicorn snorted fire.

Norton hastily interposed himself. “They’re from the space opera frame,” he said—and paused. “How can that be? This is the heroic fantasy frame!”

“Fantasy, smantasy!” Dursten exclaimed. “We got caught in a space warp and woof and had to make landfall on the closest green planet, to give the ship a chance to repair itself.” He nodded toward the blob. “These Bem-balls look like rotten eggs, but they’re not bad when you get to know ’em. They can pretty well take care o’ themselves, given half a chance. But what in space are
you
doing here, pardner? Last time I saw you, you’d vanished. I figured the Genius ’ported you away.”

“Close enough,” Norton said. “Now I’ve been, uh, teleported here. But this is a fantasy world you’ve landed
on, where magic works, just as it does on my home world of Earth. Excelsia and I had quite an adventure—”

Bat eyed the woman. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Man, I’d shore like to take that there Femme myself and—”

“Go eat a slimeblob, you utter cretin!” Excelsia snapped.

“Listen, you bare-boobed broad!” Bat retorted. “I don’t take no shipment from—”

“All a misunderstanding,” Norton cut in before things could proceed to mayhem. Already the Bemme and the Alicorn were squaring off, loyal to their associates. The Alicorn had lowered his horn, while the Bemme had assumed the form of a giant pencil sharpener. “You’re from two different worlds—”

The Bemme sprouted an eyeball on a stem and squinted at him. “
Three
different worlds,” Norton corrected himself. “Naturally, conventions differ. We have to be tolerant.”

Excelsia shrugged gracefully. “Very well, since you ask it, Sir Norton. I can tolerate the presence of a cretin when absolutely necessary.”

The spaceman grinned. “And I sort of go for bare bo—”

“Agreed!” Norton interrupted. “If you will just explain to the creatures.”

“Certainly,” Excelsia said. “Bemme, if you can get along with that spacelout, I’m sure we females can—”

“Shore,” Dursten agreed. “Alicorn, if a horny horse-head like you can put up with that dizzy Femme, you and me can shore—”

But already the Alicorn and the Bemme were making up. She was batting huge faceted eyes at him and he was snorting an appreciative puff of smoke.

“Maybe you can help me, Bat,” Norton said, relaxing. “I need to return home in a hurry, but I don’t know how. Do you think you could contact a Genius and inquire?”