The River of Dancing Gods (44 page)

"Well, it's the truth. And because of it, I'll lay out all your options. First, you can remain in the service of Terindell as honored folk. We have won a battle but not a war, and there will be much more to do in the future. The Baron will not be so overconfident again. Of course, I'd give you both whatever time you wanted or needed, and transport you anywhere you wanted to go, before sending you on any more missions. That is option number one..

He paused, puffed a few times on the cigar, then continued.

"Now, option number two is that you both go your own way.

Find your own lives here. I won't hold you. But I do think the two of you make a good team, a near unbeatable combination of beauty and magic on the one hand and quick-thinking brawn on the other. That business in the Baron's tent, Joe, was sheer brilliance." Again he paused, looking thoughtful. "There is a third alternative, of course..

Page 230 Chalker, Jack L - The River of the Dancing Gods "Huh? What?" Joe wanted to know.

"You could go back. I could send you back. Your souls 263 JACK L. CHALKER still belong elsewhere, and so you could return—as you are, in fact. New lives. Marge, you could have every male eating out of your hand back there. A little cosmetic alteration on the ears, perhaps, and you'd be the most exotic and erotic woman since Helen of Troy—and she was vastly overrated. And, Joe, with that body and quick mind of yours—and some quantity of gold I could give you—you could be or do almost anything you want..

They were thunderstruck by this last option, since both of them had abandoned any hope of ever returning. Joe had often thought of it, of course, but he'd never expected to have the choice offered to him. , Marge smiled at Ruddygore. "No, I don't think I want to return. Maybe someday for a visit, but never for good. I've been in this world perhaps only a year, but I've lived more than I have in all my previous life. It's not the wondrous, romantic world of my fantasies, true, but it is a wonderful place nonetheless." Both she and Ruddygore looked at Joe.

"You know, ever since I met you, I've been aching to go back. It's all I dreamed about. But—I don't know. Call it inscrutable Indian perversity, or maybe just an old trucker's whim, but there really is nothin' there for me. The funny thing is, I might have still taken you up on it until we got back here.

Just seein' folks like Macore, Houma, and Grogha—you know, I got more friends in this world than I have in the other? And I'm still my own boss here, still on the move, only here one place ain't so much like another..

Ruddygore sighed and nodded. "All right, then, that's settled.

As for the other, perhaps I wasn't playing quite fair with you..

Both of their heads snapped up and looked at him suspiciously.

He sighed. "Remember back at the start of this thing? Remember, Marge, when you labeled it the start of an epic?.

She chuckled. "Yes, I remember. I didn't know how true that was when I joked about it..

"You still don't," he told her. "The Books of Rules, Volume 16, page 103, section 12(d)..

"Yeah? So what's that crazy set say about us?" Joe wanted to know.

"All epics must be at least trilogies," Ruddygore replied, ABOUT THE AUTHOR JACK L. CHALKER was born in Norfolk, Virginia, on De- Page 231 Chalker, Jack L - The River of the Dancing Gods cember 17, 1944, but was raised and has spent most of his life in Baltimore, Maryland. He learned to read almost from the moment of entering school, and by working odd jobs amassed a large book collection by the time he was in junior high school, a collection now too large for containment in his quarters. Science fiction, history, and geography all fascinated him early on, interests that continue.

Chalker joined the Washington Science Fiction Association in 1958 and began publishing an amateur SF journal, Mirage, in 1960. After high school he decided to be a trial lawyer, but money problems and the lack of a firm caused him to switch to teaching. He holds bachelor degrees in history and English, and an M.L.A. from the Johns Hopkins University. He taught history and geography in the Baltimore public schools between 1966 and 1978, and now makes his living as a freelance writer. Additionally, out of the amateur journals he founded a publishing house. The Mirage Press, Ltd., devoted to nonfiction and bibliographic works on science fiction and fantasy. This company has produced more than twenty books in the last nine years. His hobbies include esoteric audio, travel, working on science-fiction convention committees, and guest lecturing on SF to institutions such as the Smithsonian. He is an active conservationist and National Parks supporter, and he has an intensive love of ferryboats, with the avowed goal of riding every ferry in the world. In fact, in 1978 he was married to Eva Whitley on an ancient ferryboat in mid-river. They live in the Catoctin Mountain region of western Maryland with their son David.

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