Read Demons of the Dancing Gods Online
Authors: Jack L. Chalker
Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Fiction
it is their four thousand two hundred and thirty-first meeting,
which is abbreviated as Sach-con Nine Hundred and Two.
Below that it says, 'Hello, my name is Joseph the Golden.'"
He looked at the last little figures. "So that's my name in
this chicken-scratch writing. I'll have to remember it, or keep
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this as a reference, in case I have to sign my name and pretend
I know it all."
She laughed. "Keep that thing on whenever you are in the
convention areas," she warned him. "Each one has a spell
personalized to the first wearer that admits you tc all public
areas. Try and get in without it and you will get a nasty shock."
"I'll remember," he promised. "Where to now?"
"Let us go back into the exhibition hall. I want to see how
much has changed since I was a child."
They went back, both clutching their bags, and Joe felt a
little absurd. Mr. and Mrs. Barbarian go shopping, he thought.
"Any reason why I should lug all this stuff around when I can't
read a word of it?" he asked her.
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"It is hard to say, but probably not. Why not just put it over
in that coat room there and get it on the way back, if it is still
there?"
He did just that and felt at least a little less foolish. They
then entered the exhibition hall, and Joe was surprised to feel
it comfortably air-conditioned. "A minor housekeeping spell,"
Tiana told him.
So this was more of the magic of Husaquahr. "Pretty tame
magic," he noted. "I kinda figured that magic lands like this
one had all sorts of stuff going all the time."
"Oh, of course not. It is true that magic is all around us all
the time here, but it is not intrusive. In fact, the less it is used
or has to be used, the better. It is sort of like a balance of
power. Earth is a world dominated by nuclear bombs, yet I
would say you have seen more magic in this world than nuclear
bombs in yours."
She had a point there, so he let it pass. The exhibition hall
was huge and filled with large numbers of creatures, both
human and fairy—and some he wasn't quite sure about—all
in booths or behind long display tables. There was no logic or
order to the arrangement, so the old crone selling the latest
chemical advances in aphrodisiacs was right next to the bright
young fellow selling the Handy Miracle Pocket Indexer, which
was apparently less hype than a description of a portable quickfile
system that could be clipped onto a belt or carried in a
shoulder bag and that allowed the average magician to access
and classify spells by all sorts of cross-indexing methods.
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They went on, passing a group of salesmen peddling a
condensed Books of Rules—only three hundred volumes—
complete with the magical Codex, a cross-indexed compendium
allowing anything needed in the three hundred volumes
to be found easily. Tiana tried to beat off one of the salesmen
and finally got rid of him by commenting, "You are already
four years out of date, and by the time I received my volume
a month on your plan, you would be twenty-nine years out of
date." Arguments that a new edition was in preparation fell on
deaf ears.
Some of the exhibits were downright disgusting, like the
demonstrations by the Entrail-of-the Month Club. Another service
offered fresh bat's blood and monkey's eyes. There were
also countless protective gadgets and amulets being sold—all
worthless, Tiana assured Joe, since any value they might have
had was compromised by their being so commercially available.
Some of the salespeople were disconcerting, too. He didn't
really mind the centaurs and their variations so much, nor the
Panlike satyrs, and certainly not the nubile nymphs, but some
of the creatures selling various artifacts and substances, the
purposes of which could only be guessed at, were like nothing
he'd ever seen before. There was that creepy blue creature, for
example, with the wiry hair and buzzardlike beak whose huge,
unhuman eyes kept following them, and the things that looked
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like giant swamp logs with eyes at the tip of each branch.
There were also memory and concentration aids for sale,
voodoo dolls and substances to make more—"free demonstration
on request"—and much, much more. Small fairy elves
were hawking clothing spun in the fairy way out of fairy gold,
"for the wizard who truly wants to look the part."
There were booths representing specific interest groups as
well. At one booth an old black-clad hag straight out of Snow
White was apparently representing the Wicked Witches Anti-
Defamation League; at another an extremely fat sort of pixie
in a blue Keystone Kops-type outfit offered membership to
qualified individuals in the Elves, Gnomes, and Little Men's
Chowder and Marching Society; while at a third a tough-looking
mermaid was half sunk in a tank of water, smoking a big
cigar, and representing something called the City-States' Benevolent
Protective Organization. Tiana explained that traders
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bought insurance from them or their ships mysteriously sank
somewhere.
Joe could only shake his head in wonder and say, "Gee, I
always thought mermaids were real pretty and lovey and all
that."
"Oh, many are, particularly the sirens who lure ships onto
the rocks by bewitching the sailors. She is just one of the sirens'
minor godmothers."
It also took a little adjusting to get used to some of the
titles, whose stated acronyms were more than a little disconcerting.
Tiana was in a nostalgic mood and kept pointing out
luminaries with a disquieting lack of understanding for the way
his own mind worked. He decided that maybe it was the similarity
of the common trade language to English that was doing
it for him.
"Oh, there is Sargash!" she breathed excitedly and pointed.
"She is a famous idiot."
Joe looked at the red-robed woman and frowned. "She doesn't
look like an idiot to me. She looks pretty smart."
"Oh, you are strange, Joseph! I meant she is a famous
I.D.I.O.T.—Iconological Doctor of Incantations, Obturations,
and Transudations."
"Oh. Yeah, sure."
"And there is Mathala, ogre."
"Actually, she's sort of distinguished."
"No, no. SheisheadoftheOrderofGeomorphicReification
and Exuviation."
"If you say so," was all he could respond. Even though he
was getting the idea, he still didn't know what those words
meant.
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"Ah, and that man all in black over there is a world-renowned
nutcase."
"Do I want to ask questions about that one?"
"Notater of Ultravires, Transubstantiations, Casuistry, Alchemy,
Soporophics, and Ephemerides," she explained. "He
will be one of the referees in the sorcerers' matches."
"First get me a dictionary—one that I can read," he grumped.
She stopped and gasped. "There—there is the evil bastard
himself!"
He waited, noting a tall, distinguished-looking sorcerer in
red and green velvet garb, catching up to and talking with Mr.
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Nutcase. "Well?" he said after a moment. "Aren't you going
to tell me what evil bastard stands for?"
"It stands for usurper, cheat, murderer, and harlot," she spat
out.
Joe was trying to figure out how that fitted the title when
she added, "That is Kaladon."
He looked again with new interest. "He's a lot older than
I thought he was."
"He is five years my senior. The aging that you see is the
wages of his art. He is in fact still the youngest of all the
Council members by more than three hundred years."
"Spell or not, I think we'd better be on our way out of here,"
Joe suggested. "As I understand it, everybody else can see you
normally, and you stand out in any crowd."
"As do you," she responded and squeezed his hand playfully,
but she also wasted no time heading for the nearest exit.
Back out in the corridor, he looked at her and asked, "Now
where?"
She shrugged. "Let us go up to the room and sort through
this material. Somewhere in there is a program that will tell
us what is going on with whom and where."
He nodded and retrieved his untouched bag from the cloakroom.
They headed out into the now jam-packed lobby and up
the long series of stairs.
As they walked down the hall, the door to the suite opened
and a small figure stepped out. They both halted as the figure
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turned and looked up, first at Joe, then at Tiana.
"Hello, Joe," she said.
"Hello, Marge. Uh—this is Tiana."
"So I gather," the Kauri answered a little coolly.
"Joseph has told me much about you," Tiana said, trying
to break the ice a little. "You have had many great adventures."
"You don't look like much of a slouch in my sort of adventures
yourself," Marge responded cattily.
"Uh, Marge—you'll be sharing with Macore," Joe put in.
She looked up at him strangely. "I thought as much."
He shrugged. "You called the tune, remember. I'm just
playing along."
"Yeah. Well, have fun, you two," she replied, then turned
and walked back into her own room.
Tiana didn't quite know what to say, so Joe just moved
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forward down the hall, unlocked his door, and the two went
inside and closed the door after them.
Finally Joe said, "You know, I'm really going to hate myself
for that tomorrow, but right now I just have that feeling that
there is justice in the world."
"She looked so hurt and lonely."
He nodded. "Yeah. She looked, somehow, almost like that
scared, lonely kid I picked up back in Texas. Funny. If she'd
been like that the last couple of days..."
The big woman thought a moment. "Joe, I think I can
explain it. I was just sort of putting myself in her position
now." Briefly she described the true nature and function of the
Kauri and their strong shifts in mood.
He nodded, understanding to a point. "Well, that explains
it, I guess."
"No, Joe, not completely, judging by your expression. You
and I, we feel grumpy sometimes, happy other times, as all
people do, and as she used to. Now, though, she has no control
over it. She can fix the souls of others, but only by taking the
hurt inside herself."
"Yeah, but you said the effect wears off—she eats it or
something, or she can take the cure back home. That's more
than / can do."
"That is true—as far as it goes. But tell me, what do you
do when you feel very mad about something, perhaps about
something you yourself did that you wish now to take back
and can not?"
He thought a moment. "Smash my fist into a wall, I guess,
or pick a fight."
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She nodded. "But the Kauri, they have no release. There
is no Kauri to clean them up, and they can not harm anyone,
not even themselves. It must be particularly difficult for someone
with a long human past, I would think. And you should
be flattered rather than upset that she did not make love to
you."
"Huh?"
"It means you do not have as many problems as you think
you do. The only opening she had to help you was your feeling
of loneliness, and now that, too, is gone, I think. I hope."
"You're making me feel like a heel right now."
She smiled. "No, you are human, and that is a wonderful
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thing to be. She is not human, but she is still your friend. I
think perhaps she needs you more than you think, and you
need her far less than you think, if that makes any sense."
"Yeah, I guess so. Think I ought to go over and try and
smooth it out?"
"It might not be a bad idea, particularly if, as Ruddy implies,
we three must go a long way together. I will look through this
mass of material we have collected while you are gone."
He smiled, got up, kissed her, then turned and walked out
of the room and down the hall, stopping at and knocking on
Marge's door.
For a moment he was afraid she was gone; but finally the
door opened a crack, then wide, and he entered.
"Hey, look, I just want to say I'm sorry for the smart remark,"
he told her honestly.
"Yes, I know," Marge replied. "I don't really hold anything
against you, Joe—I couldn't! Not after what we've been through.
I deserved it and I know it."
He sat down on the side of the bed. "Hey, look—I've had
this whole thing explained to me. You're going to find this
hard to believe, but Tiana understands the problem and she
was a pretty good explainer."