Xone of Contention

by Anthony, Piers

  “Robota,” Grey answered. “This requires some background. Seven years ago, there was a Game of Companions, wherein two Mundanes visited, and one won a talent.”

  “I know,” Pia said. “That was Kim. We know her.”

  “That was when Dug helped the Black Wave find a good place to settle in Xanth,” Breanna said.

  “Yes, in 1092. That game required considerable cooperation from a number of entities, among which was Com Pewter. In exchange for that assistance, he was given a number of magical parts, from which he and his mouse Tristan assembled Robota. She is endowed by her creator with a portion of his magic ability to change local reality. She can do it only in relation to herself, however, and even so her power is limited. That might be considered her talent. She also has a remarkably analytical mind, oriented on weather, as she is a weather golem. This mission will be the completion of her training and education. Thereafter she will be to weather what Grundy Golem is to languages.”

  “Grundy?” Pia asked.

  “He was made from wood and string,” Ivy said. “But later the Demon X(A/N)TH made him real, and he married Rapunzel. Their child, Surprise, can do almost any magic once—and only once. Grundy is a translation golem, so he can speak to and understand any living creature, including insects and plants. It would put him in contention for Magician status, if he were a man.”

  “But you said he was made real. So isn’t he a man now?”

  Ivy was surprised. “Why yes, I suppose he is.”

  “And how am I to identify with a creature who isn’t alive?”

  Grey stepped into the dialogue. “In Xanth, the distinction between living and nonliving can be obscure.”

  “For sure,” Breanna said. “Consider the zombies.”

  “Robota is animate,” Grey continued. “She is not flesh, but she is conscious and motivated.”

  “But if she’s a machine—” Pia said.

  “Machines are people too. Your connection will enable you to see through her eyes, hear through her ears, and feel through her hands and feet. You will not have to think of her as alive, if you prefer not to, but we feel its not a relevant issue.”

  Pia let it go, but seemed unsatisfied.

  Meanwhile they were moving rapidly through the forest. It seemed that Com Pewter’s cave was not really far from the Good Magician’s Castle, and the enchanted path facilitated travel. Before long, they approached the area.

  An awful noise sounded. “Ooo-gah!”

  “That’s the invisible giant,” Grey explained. “He guards the cave.”

  Pia sniffed. “What is that bleeping stench?”

  “He doesn’t wash often enough,” Ivy said. “But soon we’ll be in the cave.”

  The ground shook. “Ooo-ga!”

  “He has a heavy tread,” Breanna said. “But he won’t step on us. He knows us.” She lifted her hand and waved upward.

  “Hi, Giant!” “Hi!” returned from the sky, deafeningly.

  “You look great as ever,” Breanna called.

  The invisible giant laughed. The sound rolled around the landscape, crashing off mountains and flattening valleys.

  They came to a hole in the wall. Para ran in, and they were surrounded by darkness. Then it opened into a chamber where a collection of junk lay, with a glassy screen sticking up in the center. The boat stopped and they got out. The children clustered around the screen. “Hello, Com Pewter,” Grey said. “We have come with observers to handle the mission.”

  The screen lighted. HELLO, MAGICIAN GREY MURPHY. WHO?

  “Two Mundanes who will not be affected by changes in Xanthly circumstance.”

  EXCELLENT.

  “Here are Edsel and Pia Mundane,” Grey said, introducing them. “On service for the Good Magician. They have almost no prior experience of Xanth, and will return to Mundania soon.”

  EXCELLENT, the screen repeated. I AM AWARE OF THEIR IDENTITIES, BECAUSE I MAINTAIN THE O-XONE. THERE IS A MESSAGE FROM CHLORINE: THEY SUFFERED AN INTERRUPTION IN CONTACT, BUT LATER IT WAS RESTORED. THEY ARE SATISFACTORY.

  “That’s a relief,” Edsel said.

  A puzzle pattern appeared, on the screen, evidently for the amusement of the children.

  Grey turned to Ivy. “Why don’t you and the children return for us this time tomorrow?”

  “We will,” she agreed, kissing him. She turned to the Companions. “Do you wish to remain here or return with us?”

  Breanna hesitated. “I think we’d better stay here. Just in case.”

  “May we use the boat, then?”

  “Sure, if Para wants to go,” Breanna said. “He has more than returned the favor we did him.”

  Ivy departed with the children. Now two new figures appeared. “I am Tristan Troll,” the tall ugly one said. “Pewter’s mouse.”

  The other was a tiny woman who resembled Ivy, as an elfin princess. “And I am Robota,” she said. “Pewter’s golem.”

  Pia looked down at her. “You look alive.”

  The small figure fuzzed, and reformed in full human size, looking more than ever like Ivy. “It is mostly illusion. I am a creature made for a purpose, given the abilities I need to fulfill that purpose. For example, I have been programmed to speak three Mundane dialects, English, French, and Italian.”

  “You speak English very well,” Pia said, evidently startled.

  Robota laughed. “I am not speaking it here. You are not speaking it here.”

  “But of course I am,” Pia said. “It’s the only language I know.”

  “When you enter Xanth,” Grey said, “You speak the human dialect of Xanth. All people do, whatever their original languages. It happens automatically. It is part of the magic of Xanth.”

  “It’s true,” Breanna said. “It happened to all the members of the Black Wave when we came to Xanth. When you try to talk across the magic boundary, it’s like gibberish.”

  Edsel was as surprised as Pia. “We were never aware of any change.”

  “There is no need to be,” Grey said. “But when Robota and I pass through Mundania, we will not be intelligible, and will need to handle the local dialects.”

  “I will translate for you,” Robota said. “And speak for you, using your voice.”

  “Fortunately we won’t be there long,” Grey said.

  “Why go there at all?” Edsel asked. “I thought you were to travel back in time.”

  Grey smiled. “That is the most convenient way it is done. The interface between Xanth and Mundania is temporal as well as spacial. We shall leave in our present time, and re-enter in the time of the Storm King. Robota is attuned to the key times.”

  “This is weird,” Pia said.

  BUT FEASIBLE, the screen printed.

  “Like the Adult Conspiracy,” Breanna muttered.

  “So what do we two observers do?” Edsel asked.

  “You will be made comfortable here,” Tristan said. “Pewter will provide for any special needs you have. Simply tell me, and it will be arranged.”

  “My credulity is straining,” Pia said. “I think I’d like to go home.”

  Tristan didn’t blink. “Describe your home.”

  Justin smiled. “You will like this.”

  “Well, it’s a garden variety house,” Pia said. “We each have an office, so I can do the accounts and he can do the programming without getting in each other’s way. We have colored carpeting on the floors, and pictures on the walls.” She continued to describe their house in greater detail, evidently feeling nostalgia.

  Edsel noticed what she did not: as she spoke, the house was forming around them. She hadn’t clarified that their two offices were in different rooms, so here they were side by side, alcoves in the same room, but otherwise correctly appointed. There were pictures of flowers and lakes by her desk, and pictures of his Lemon motorcycle by his desk, plus a sexy pinup calendar.

  Pia finally noticed. “Yes, that’s it, in a way,” she said. “But it’s all illusion, of course.”

  “No, t
his is temporary reality,” Tristan said. “This is my master’s power.”

  “And it’s some power,” Breanna said.

  “Reality? Of course not,” Pia said. She walked to her desk and slapped at the chair, probably expecting her hand to pass through without resistance. Instead it struck the chair.

  She stared. Then she touched the desk, more carefully. Then she lifted a picture from the wall. “It’s real!”

  “For sure. I told you.”

  Edsel walked to his section. His things were real too. He tried to modify it, using his magic talent, but nothing happened.

  “Ordinary magic can not overrule Magician caliber magic,” Tristan said. “Com Pewter is supreme in this cave, except for Magician Grey, of course. But if you wish anything changed—”

  “No, this is just fine,” Pia said. “It really is pretty much like home.”

  “Then perhaps we should begin,” Grey said.

  “If the two of you will touch the two of them, the connection will be established,” Tristan said to Edsel and Pia.

  “Wait!” Pia cried, alarmed. “Do we lose our souls or something?”

  “I assure you, this is not the case,” Tristan said. “This is merely a link between you, so that the two observers will always know what the subjects are experiencing.”

  “And do they also know what we’re doing?” Pia asked sharply.

  “No. This is one way only. My master has been as yet unable to develop the magic required for two way temporal communication.”

  “That a relief,” Pia said. Edsel agreed, though he didn’t say so.

  They went to stand before Grey and Robota. Edsel extended his hand to Grey, and Pia extended hers to Robota. When Edsel’s fingers touched Grey’s he felt an electric tingle. That was all.

  “That’s it?” Pia asked, sounding almost disappointed.

  “Close your eyes and look,” Tristan said.

  Edsel closed his eyes and tried to see. He saw himself standing there, with his eyes shut. Startled, he opened his eyes, and for a moment suffered a double image. Then the view of himself faded, and his vision was normal again.

  “I was seeing through your eyes!” he said to Grey.

  “Yes. The magic sends to you. Then you can tell Com Pewter, especially when there is anything alarming.”

  “I don’t like to ask this question,” Edsel said. “But I think I must. Suppose you die?”

  Grey smiled. “That is unlikely in Xanth, because of my magic, and Robota of course can’t die, though she could be destroyed. But it is possible in Mundania, and I admit I am nervous about that aspect of our journey. If it happens, your awareness will go blank. Then I regret that it will fall to you to advise the others.”

  “Advise me,” Tristan said. “I will advise the others.”

  “I hope that doesn’t happen,” Edsel said. “This is becoming much more serious than I expected.”

  “We believe that the mission can be safely accomplished,” Tristan said. “In any event, there is no personal risk to the two of you. It would not be ethical to subject you to that.”

  “Yet you are subjecting Xanth to the risk of serious change.”

  Grey gave him a straight look. “Not if you are sufficiently vigilant.”

  Edsel shut up. He would do his best, though he sincerely hoped that nothing went wrong. His knees felt a bit weak.

  Com Pewter’s screen lighted. DO IT.

  Grey nodded. “Perhaps I should carry you, at this stage, Robota.”

  “Yes.”

  Grey picked up the golem and tucked her into a shirt pocket. He turned to the exit tunnel. He took several steps, then paused, turning back. “If I discover a problem I don’t believe we can handle, I will signal you, like this.” He lifted his two hands in a gesture as of prayer. “That will mean to send help.”

  “If we see that, we’ll tell Tristan,” Edsel agreed. “But I sincerely hope it’s not necessary.”

  “I hope so too,” Tristan said. “Because I am the one who will have to go there, and I do not feel competent, as a troll.”

  “I know the feeling, as a Mundane,” Edsel said.

  Grey turned again and walked on out of the cave.

  Edsel, suddenly uncertain about the connection, closed his eyes and concentrated. He saw a light, growing, and realized that it was at the end of the tunnel. It was the opening, as Grey approached it. Then daylight was around him. “The connection is working,” he said, relieved, as he opened his eyes.

  “I know,” Pia said.

  Grey closed his eyes again—and found his vision sailing up into the sky. He stumbled, almost falling, until someone steadied him. It was Breanna. “Something’s wrong,” he said.

  “For sure. I hope you’re not sick.”

  “Perhaps you are seeing the invisible giant picking them up for transport,” Tristan said.

  Oh. Edsel felt foolish. “Yes. I forgot about the giant.”

  “Perhaps it would be easier if you retired to your office and sat down,” Tristan suggested.

  Edsel was feeling giddy. “Yes. Grey’s images and mine don’t mesh perfectly. It’s like motion sickness.” He walked to his den and took his chair. Pia did the same with hers.

  Now Breanna talked to Tristan. “It’s going to be a long wait. How about some solitaire?”

  “Perhaps we can connect with Terian and Com Passion,” Tristan said, sounding pleased.

  Edsel tuned them out and closed his eyes again. Now he saw the Land of Xanth coursing by below. It was a patchwork of jungle, lake, and field. He realized that the legs of the giant must be between him and the land, but they were completely invisible, so it was like low level flying. Soon they approached the boundary at the northwest region, what in Mundania was called the Florida panhandle.

  The land came up. Grey was being set down. He turned and waved, probably to the departing giant. Maybe the giant waved back.

  Grey turned to look at the nearby sea. It was changing color from blueish to greenish. Then, suddenly, Grey ran west, away from Xanth. Mundane foliage surrounded him.

  “Are you all right, Robota?” Grey inquired, patting his pocket.

  “I’m fading,” she answered. “But I will not lose my magic entirely. Keep me near your ear so I can translate for you.”

  Grey walked on. The scenery did not look like Florida. Edsel opened his eyes. “Are they in the right place? I don’t recognize the landscape.”

  Tristan looked up from his card game. “They are in the land you call Italy, circa 1885 if I have your numbers correct.”

  “1885!” Pia exclaimed, opening her eyes. “You mean, like a century ago?”

  “Perhaps I can clarify this,” Justin said. “In terms of the Xanth time they are visiting, it is about seventy-five years, when the Evil Magician Trent first transformed me into a tree for trying to oppose him. But when he was thereafter exiled, he emerged in Mundania of southern Europe near the end of the nineteenth century, your time. He returned to Xanth twenty years later, and became King. Grey is following his route, as it is easier to do that than to establish a new temporal route.”

  “Clear as mud,” Pia said.

  “There is no fixed connection between Xanth and Mundania,” Tristan said. “A person can step from Xanth into any time of Mundania, and return into any time of Xanth, if he knows how. Thus that is merely a stepping stone.”

  “From Xanth now to Italy then,” Edsel said. “From Italy then to Xanth then. Only not exactly the same then.”

  “That’s close enough,” Pia said, rolling her eyes.

  Edsel closed his eyes and tuned in again. So did Pia.

  Grey approached a settlement by the sea. He spoke gibberish to a native. The native responded. “Robota is speaking for him, in his voice,” Pia reported. “He is holding her up near his face so it’s not obvious. It’s Italian. He—she’s asking for the road to France.”

  “You can understand Italian?” Edsel asked, amazed.

  “No. I can understand Robota. S
he understands Italian.”

  Grey negotiated to get a horse to ride, and set off. Mountains loomed ahead. “But this may take days!” Edsel protested.

  “For him, yes,” Tristan said. “But when he returns here, he will do so within a day of his time of departure, so you will not be unduly delayed.”

  “But how can I follow days, in hours?”

  “You fast-forward past the dull stuff,” Breanna said.

  “This is weird,” Pia said.

  “Ain’t magic wonderful,” Breanna said, laughing.

  Edsel tried it. Lo, suddenly he was looking at southern France. At least the mountains were behind and the landscape looked vaguely French. In a moment Pia confirmed it.

  Skipping ahead, they found Grey joining Evil Magician Trent’s Mundane army. Grey was able to do this because Trent didn’t know him back then. In fact, it was before Grey had been delivered, so no one in Mundania could have known him.

  Edsel took a break. He stretched and walked out to join the others. They were playing quadruple solitaire with illusion cards, freely interfering with each other’s layouts and evidently having a great time. Justin and Breanna formed one team, and Tristan and Pewter the other, the troll/mouse making the moves per the machine’s printed instructions.

  Breanna looked up. “Oh, hi, Ed. Everything okay?”

  “They’re passing through Mundania, and there is no problem. In fact it’s dull; I’ll be fast-forwarding soon.”

  “For sure.” Breanna slapped an illusion card down across the layout. “Trump.”

  Angry swirls of colored light crossed Pewter’s screen, his way of showing frustration. Then they cleared. “Double,” Tristan said, putting down a card for the machine.

  “Raise,” Justin said, placing one of his cards.

  HIT ME Pewter’s screen printed.

  Breanna laid down three cards. “Meld.”

  Tristan picked one up. “Kiss mee.”

  “Just what kind of solitaire is this?” Edsel asked, baffled.

  “It’s one we invented, called Kiss Mee Donkee,” Breanna explained. “It’s sort of eclectic.”

  “So I see.” Edsel still could not make head or tail of the play. “You know, Com Pewter could play better if he had a joystick and keyboard. Considering the nature of Xanth, those would probably give him joy and the key to new insights.”