Xone of Contention

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Xone of Contention Page 35

by Anthony, Piers


  They knew why the power failed. Nimby could escape the moment he reached the O-Xone, if he had access to the Grid at the right time. The formal check-in time was in the next half hour, but Dearth would make sure the power didn’t return until well after that, or when Nimby left the library. Things were quiet now only because Dearth was in control of the situation, but Dearth wasn’t taking any chances.

  They looked at books, as it was light enough without electric lights. Nimby took one about quantum physics, and read it avidly. Chlorine remembered that Dug had discussed the matter. Nimby tended to follow up on anything that attracted his interest, so now he was completing his knowledge of that subject. Chlorine preferred to look at a book of pretty pictures.

  Then Nimby touched her hand. Mystified by his request, she got up and went to the library’s bathroom. It had a window to the back. She loosened the latch and opened it. “Here,” she said out the window.

  Something leaped up, landing on the sill. Startled, she drew back. It was a nondescript cat.

  Then she recognized it. “Midrange!” she said. “What are you doing here?” She picked him up. Nimby had known he was coming.

  She carried the cat into the main section of the library and set him down beside Nimby. Nimby reached out to Midrange’s collar. There was a chain with a locket. Nimby took the locket in his hand, without removing it from the cat. He touched Chlorine’s hand, and she felt a thrill of power. It was the magic dust within the locket; Nimby was drawing on it without even having to open the locket. Something in her body changed. In fact she felt three pulses of change.

  Chlorine stared. So did Dug and Kim. “Is that what I think it is?” Kim asked.

  There was a sudden roll of thunder outside. Dearth had just caught on.

  Nimby got up, briefly touched the hands of Dug and Kim, and went to the computer terminal, carrying Midrange, who seemed more than satisfied. Chlorine knew how that was. He touched the unit. It came on.

  Lightning struck the building. But the library evidently had an arrester, because there was no damage. Dearth had been caught by surprise, and couldn’t act swiftly enough.

  Kim caught on. She leaped to the terminal and started typing. The screen came on. “But there’s no power!” the librarian protested.

  “Now there is,” Dug said. And indeed there was, for Nimby was powering the system magically. None of them saw fit to mention that detail, however.

  Chlorine sat at the adjacent terminal, joining in. This one was also working, as the current flowed throughout the system. Dug came to type for her.

  Kim led them straight to the O-Xone. They entered it, and the hall became real around them.

  Edsel and Pia were there in Breanna’s Leaf. So were Breanna and Justin. “We were afraid you wouldn’t make it,” Pia said, coming to hug Chlorine.

  Chlorine had had a similar fear, but didn’t care to admit it. “Nimby knew.”

  “For sure,” Breanna said. “We sent the locket out, but heard there was really bad weather in Mundania. We figured we knew why. When the Baldwins reported trouble getting through, we were really nervous.”

  “Midrange Cat got through with the locket,” Chlorine said. “I think the magic leaked out and affected him, giving him extra intelligence. He knew where to go.” Suddenly she realized why Nimby had been sleeping so much: his Awareness had been following the cat; guiding Midrange throughout. “The Demon E(A/R)TH was watching the humans, not the cat, so he slipped though.” She glanced at Kim. “You’ll have to see that Midrange gets back to his family, with our gratitude.”

  “We will,” Kim said.

  Nimby touched hands with Edsel, and Chlorine touched Pia. Her orientation changed; now she was looking the opposite way.

  Nimby touched Chlorine’s hand. Suddenly she had important new information. She turned to Pia. “I have some news for you. Nimby is pleased with the way you and Ed cooperated, and has given you three gifts.”

  “Oh, we don’t need any gifts,” Pia protested. “Being in Xanth was such a wonderful experience for us.” She glanced at Edsel. “We’re going to stay married, and have children, and I’m going to study the environment. I have gained so much!”

  “Then I hope you are pleased with the gifts, for they have already been given,” Chlorine said. “First, your body has been restored to its form at age sixteen, as it seems was your wish in Xanth, and will be easier to maintain that way.”

  “Oh!” Pia exclaimed. “I thought that was only during the adventure. It was a foolish wish, anyway.”

  “It’s really meant for Edsel,” Chlorine said.

  “I like it,” Edsel agreed.

  “Second, your diabetes is gone.”

  Pia’s mouth dropped open. “No more needles? I thought that was only in Xanth too. The healing spring.”

  “No more needles. Third, you will receive a visit from the stork.”

  Pia was astonished. “You mean—even though we were in Xanth, with your bodies?”

  “Perhaps,” Chlorine said. “We used your bodies similarly. Because of your association with Xanth at the time, your child will have a magic talent, when visiting Xanth.”

  Pia seemed about to faint. “That really gave her something to think about,” Kim said, smiling. “I envy her.” Kim’s smile, though genuinely warm for her friend’s good fortune, had a tinge of sadness she tried to mask.

  “You, too, will receive a visit,” Chlorine told her. “With similar magic.”

  “A—? But that can’t be! I mean—” Kim hesitated, unaware that they knew about her problem in that respect, and her secret heartache. “I mean, we were in Mundania the whole time.”

  “The storks deliver as Nimby tells them to. The two of you were extremely helpful, and are deserving.”

  Now Kim was the one about to faint. “You mean, I really will have—a baby?” Her underlying sadness was transforming to abiding joy, and it was mirrored in Dug’s face.

  “As will I,” Chlorine said. Then, startled, she looked at Nimby. “I will?”

  Everyone laughed. Then the three women came together and hugged each other.

  “This is wonderful but weird,” Breanna said, looking on somewhat enviously.

  Nimby touched her hand.

  “But my turn will come,” Breanna added, awed. “And be worth waiting for.” Behind her, Justin’s eyes widened in surprised surmise.

  But after a moment of thought, Pia got serious. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I don’t think I want these—these gifts.”

  Kim winced. “Pia, this isn’t exactly something you can turn down. Nimby is—”

  “I know who Nimby is.” Pia faced him. “I appreciate all this, Nimby. I really do. But they are selfish things. I’ve been selfish all my life, but in Xanth I discovered that I don’t like that style. I want to—to do something useful with my life. So with all due respect, take back your gifts. I do want to be beautiful, and free of illness, and now I do want to make a family, but I would trade them all for the ability to accomplish my new purpose, which I think is to save the great old trees of Mundania, just as I helped save them in Xanth. And I guess that’s something I’ll just have to do by myself. I think I can do it all, the hard way.”

  Nimby looked at Edsel.

  “No argument here,” Edsel said. “All I wanted was Pia back, and I think I like her even better this way.”

  Nimby extended his hand to Pia. She stepped forward and took it. Nothing showed, but Chlorine knew that there was a pulse of magic. They were all in magic, all the way out to the library terminals that Nimby’s magic was animating.

  Then Pia stepped back. Nimby touched Chlorine’s hand.

  “You now have additional intelligence, courage, and persuasiveness,” Chlorine told Pia. “These qualities will help you to accomplish your purpose.”

  Pia smiled with genuine gratitude. “Thank you so much, Nimby. These gifts I will use well. I will always treasure my time in Xanth, but my true mission is in Mundania.”

  Nimb
y turned away. The job was done.

  The others bade each other quick farewells. Then the four Mundanians departed, and Nimby and Chlorine went back toward Xanth, leaving Justin and Breanna in the Leaf.

  “Wait till Pia discovers that those last gifts weren’t in exchange for the first ones, but in addition,” Chlorine murmured. “And wait till Edsel discovers your influence on his Lemon motorcycle, when Midrange hides the magic locket in it.”

  Nimby didn’t reply, but he smiled. He was learning about niceness, too.

  Author’s Note

  No, it’s not true that a woman in a southern state accidentally got her skirt torn, so that her panties were exposed, and left a trail of seventeen freaked-out men. That doesn’t happen in Mundania, where there is no magic. Anyway, she was riding on the back of a Lemon motorcycle at the time, so hardly anything showed. In any event, this novel is fiction. And no, that Lemon is not for sale.

  Some of my readers do seem to have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality. It’s that trace of magic dust that wafts out from between the pages when they first open a Xanth novel. Nothing to be much concerned about; it gradually wears off, in the course of years. When they lose the last of their imagination, they are ready to be adults in Mundania.

  This novel is special for a reason having nothing to do with its merit: with this title, I now have had published one or more books beginning with each letter of the alphabet, from Alien Plot to Zombie Lover. They aren’t all Xanths; they scatter across fantasy, science fiction, martial arts, autobiography, and history. But it was Xanth that wrapped it up, as I tackled the more difficult letters: X, Y, and Z. No, I don’t plan to go through the alphabet again; once was enough. But I regard it as one of the nicer meaningless accomplishments.

  Readers often inquire where I get all my ideas. In the case of Xanth, that’s easy to answer: most come from my readers. They are constantly sending notions ranging from simple puns to full novels, and I dutifully note them and see where and how I can use them. I had more than two hundred reader notions piled up when I started this novel. I used more than 150, but didn’t come close to catching up, because more were piling in while I wrote the novel. It’s like trying to bail out a leaky boat. Some just don’t fit in with the current story. Some I used this time go back several years. Many I use, but am unable to do full justice to. A number have had to wait until I can give them proper play, such as having a particular character have an adventure. So to those of you who hoped to see your notions here, and do not see them, I’m sorry, and maybe next time. As of this novel, I have caught up with the feasible notions through the year 1996, and about half those for 1997.

  Readers also inquire where I get my names. That answer is easy: I collect books of names. In 1965, before we had our first surviving child (we lost three stillborn in the first decade of our marriage; life can be drear in Mundania), I got the twin (no pun) booklets “3000 Names for Boys” and “3000 Names for Girls,” which are very good. I deducted them as a business expense—the whole 50¢—because they were indeed for business: naming my characters. For example, that’s where I found Colene, the depressive girl in the Mode series. It’s a variant of Colleen, Irish for Girl, but I like the spelling better, because Colene is no ordinary girl. Later when we did have children of our own, we got “Names for Boys & Girls” free from the hospital. We also bought “Let’s Name the Baby,” and all of these served well for characters. In 1991 Lori Tomlinson sent me The Baby Name Personality Survey, which describes the popular impression of first names, which seem to derive mostly from celebrities who cast the shadows of their personalities across their names. For example, Linus resembles the kid in the comic strip “Peanuts,” or will be a scholar like Linus Pauling. That sort of perspective is ideal for my purposes. Then in 1996 I got A Dictionary of First Names, published by the Oxford University Press, which is naturally the most authoritative. Yes, of course I’m prejudiced; I was born (delivered) in Oxford, England, seven weeks before another genre writer, the late John Brunner. Yes, I knew him; he was very good, his most notable novel being Stand on Zanzibar. Anyway, that “Dictionary” has 443 pages of names. Yes, my name is in it; it’s a variation of Peter, meaning “rock.” It says the modest popularity of the name Piers may derive from Langland’s medieval poem Piers Plowman, and symbolizes the virtues of hard work, honesty, and fairness. I can live with that, though I was actually named after a character in the Jalna series of novels my mother was reading at the time. No, I never read any of them myself, but it does seem fitting that fiction gave me my name. There may after all be a trace of magic in Mundania.

  But the point is, where did I get names like Edsel and Pia? And I have to say, not from these books. Oh, they are there, in some of them, but my inspiration was elsewhere. I go to the name books only when I haven’t thought up something better on my own. Back when I wrote Demons Don’t Dream, I needed a couple of humorously incidental names to flesh out Dug Mundane’s background: his best friend, and his girl-friend. I remembered the car Ford made and named after the son of Henry Ford, Edsel. It was supposed to be a great new success, fabulously researched, designed, and promoted, and was in fact a marketing flop, a sort of sinking Titanic of the auto industry, which one wag said looked like an Oldsmobile sucking a lemon. I love it when the high-paid experts belly-flop, showing how little they really know. Pia was inspired by a more recent and less unkind image: the starlet who married a billionaire, Pia Zadora, a cute girl but not favored by critics for her acting ability. I have considerable sympathy for folk not favored by critics; maybe if I had another hundred thousand words to play with, I could document why I regard critics as Edsel types. So the name Edsel was meant to vaguely suggest disaster, and the name Pia to suggest cuteness without much else. A lovely couple. But of course when I made them main characters for this novel, I got to know them better, and learned more respect. That tends to happen when you get to really know anyone you once held in contempt, and is surely one of the fundamental lessons of life: it is ignorance that breeds prejudice.

  I proofread my novels, but it is my theory that errors grow on the page after the proofreading. Ask any other writer if it isn’t so. But this time I caught a bad one before it escaped. I use the Dvorak keyboard, which has the vowels on the home row on the left side, and the most used consonants on the home row on the right side. It’s a better layout than QWERTY, but it’s hard to get on a computer. My wife, who was a programmer in the stone age of computing—the 1960’s—has to get into the works to change the key assignments, and it is a struggle, and the keys remain marked wrong. So I have learned to ignore the marks and type by touch. But I do make some errors. The O is next to the E, and, well, I discovered that when I had referred to the peephole of the gourd, that double-E came out as a double-O. Never mind what it spelled; I corrected it in a hurry.

  One of my contributors, listed below, is Natalie Tran. She gave an interesting history to one of her suggestions. Her class was on a three day field trip, and naturally got bored during the interstices. They had just seen many fascinating tide-pool creatures. One of the supervising mothers was an actress, and she invented a game called “Anemone Enemy.” There was one Anemone and one Enemy standing before a Judge. The only way they could be distinguished was that the enemy had a pencil hidden on her body. The Judge had to figure out which one was the Enemy. Behind the Judge was the Jury, who distracted the Judge by singing loud and out of tune songs, such as “Puff the Magic Dragon” twisted into a horrible racket. A Judge who guessed correctly was given a set of purple anemone earrings. I wonder—doesn’t a real trial sometimes seem almost as crazy?

  Here, at any rate, are my credits for reader suggested notions, some of which may not have turned out the way the suggestors had in mind, and some of which did not turn out the way I expected. I hope I have not garbled any names. They are roughly in order of their appearance in the novel, except when one reader suggested several.

  Chat Room Consultant: Tammy Bender aka Dragonfly-29. MUD C
onsultant: Marisol Ramos. Grundy Golem speaks computer languages; Mode M; people ensnared in chatlines; Talent of becoming what is needed; Siamese triplets—Heather Oglevie. Xanth underwater setting (I may return to this in a future novel; it’s an example of not doing a notion justice)—James Shaw. Brass coast—Mike Burkholder and Aaron Batista. Prince Dol, talent of turning the inanimate living—Sean McDonald. Xanth theme park—Nikki Tomson. Xanth Wave from the future—(there’s another notion deserving more) Justin “Virus” Chiang. “Through the Gourd” Home Page—Jessica Grider. Diabetic cured in Xanth—Kimberly Putz. Talent of seeing one day future; to create solid illusionary creatures—Sarah Curran, Chris “Mud” Robinson. Isle of View II—Andrew Cowell. Restling, Boxing, Socker—Vasudev Mandyam. Description of DeMonica—Monica Ramirez. B-rate, Jeanie Yus with IQ vines—Katie Green. Joy stick, sad stick—Andrew Graft. Magic Locket; magic bracelets from Hinge; super vacuum cleaner—Billy Banks. Cloud shaping, walking on water, 6” levitation—Jeremy & Cameron Grey. Making things sink into the ground—Mike Ward. Conjuring mint plants, making things slippery, conjuring eggs, amplify noise, making paintings come to life, summoning birds, thickening and thinning, hearing anything close by—Chris “Mud” Robinson. Talent of making a shield around oneself; Heal other folk’s injuries—Abby Everdell. Fracto assuming human form—Jilana Conaway. Talent of learning—Kiel VanHorn. More & Less twins, talent of turning into humanoid crossbreeds—Sean McDonald. Talent of turning things transparent so that their ideas show—Jake Watters. Waxing the moon’s green cheese—Jessica Mansfield. Returning things to their original state—Pedro Leon de la Barra. Pet roc, E Coli, Salmon Ella, Chocolate spiders—Barbara Hay Hummel. Bringing statues to life—Matthew King. Glaring daggers—anonymous. Controlling the emotions or moods of others—Alexandra Roedder, Chris Robinson, Mike Ward. Laika—Emily Ratsep. Bowling, sock-her balls—Chris Swanson. Putting wings on anything—Chelsea Bagwell. Modifying or deflecting talents—Joshua T. Fesmire. Chin-chilla, Speaking things real, His story/her story, Anti Nym—Donovan Beeson. Chili powder, Cook book—Dorcas Bethel. Know-ledge—Michael G. Till. Window pain—Miguel Ettema. Dinomite—Robert Meyerson. Thyme being—Alex Gordon. Leprechauns in Xanth—Tracy Ann Romano. Rusty, who makes metal rust—Rusty Balcum. Straight jacket—Chris Swanson. Simon says, and it happens—Jessica Mansfield. Brandon Risner, Ass fault, Toad lily—Jessica Sager. Raccoonnaissance, tailgator—Wanda Remenaric. Scholar ship—Terry McNamee. Lake of Pollux oil—Jason Randle. Chess nut—Nath Aiken. Elena Human, Polly Esther, Anemone—Natalie Tran. Intermission, firedrake’s iron lung—Andrew Graff. Handi Harpy—Sarah Curran. Girl who relates to dragons—Heather Davis. Shaunture Centaur, with talent of mispronunciation—Bryce Weinert and Kristine Courtnage. Mundanes named after colors—Kristin Gardner. Sigh-press tree—Alan Little. Earth, water, air ants—Rick Raddue and his brother. Alexandra, were-dolphin—Alexandra Roedder. Gabriel, visiting Mundane boy—Gabriel McDermott. Brothers who can turn self to ice, or anything else to ice—Larry Hornbaker. The Land of Xanth being nice female—Dana Bates. Centaur Magician who knows the talents of others—Rachel Rempel. DeMonica and Demon Ted growing up and marrying—Bethany Ayers. Diluted love elixir and finder spell—Karla Sussman. Roller skates—Ron Leming. Roses levitate own colors—Jefferson Kohler. Ally Horse—Christy Weese. To save Hugh Manatee—Tom Pierce. Thera pea—Betty Schaeffer. Lie-lack bush—Margaret Pavlac. Ruler takes control, Pie & Ears—Michael Burkholder & Aaron Batista. Chemis-tree—Jane Burkowski. Water chestnut tree—Jill Conto. Adder does math—Melissa Stephens. Pitchforks—Nicole Adkins. Hall minotaurs—Joe Barder. Bi-noculars—Gordon Johnson. Captivi tree, Brain storm—Vincent Tardo. Bed Making Adult Conspiracy—Tiffany Stull. Attire—Chris Efta. Seal—Jessica Mansfield. Fireweed—Marshall Porter McConahy. Lack toes intolerant—Andrew Crawford. Quack doctor—Anita Haviland. Dot—Scott Edwards. Changing gender at will—Richard Barnhart. Reverse wood lives backwards—Ray Koenig. Owen Cossaboon—Sharon Kresser. Thimble-berries—Jessica Mansfield. Sting-ray—Billy Exton. Cir-cuss for harpies—Nicole Taylor. Waller & Wallette building walls—Thomas L. Bruns. Air compressor—Chris Efta. Canteen—Rikki Goren. Hand book, Ill literate, High piers, low piers—Dorcas Bethel. Butter knife—David Simons. Roll-playing game—Jonathan Ulrich. Human race—Michael Meilstrup. Cy Centaur, Cy Clone—Gary Roth. Christopher Christopher—Christopher Humphries. Story of Grey and Robota—Erin Schram and daughters Sharayah & Fiona. Joystick and keyboard for Com Pewter—Spencer Lease. Cassie Centaur—Becca Steel. Mertaurs—Jason B Rollins. Poison Ivy—Chris “Mud” Robinson. Fanta Sea—Greg Rimko. Library puns—Mary Lou Matthew. Paper view—Rusty Balcum. Moo-sick soothes—Sharon Ellis. Sycophant—Ursula Flinspach. Draco Dragon’s black beryls—C B Hutchings. Dream realm monsters loose—Tom Koonce. Grave stone—Adam W Ellis. Na Palm tree—Bentley Gettings. Morph—Kyle Johnson. Paperback person—Kelly English. Carpet tunnel syndrome—Karla Sussman. Car pool tunnel thin dome—Tim Alsop. Talent of summoning magic dust—Elizabeth Pearl. Dee-tonate—Dee Lahr (I bought my left handed bow from her; I think she’s related to Dee Light, Dee Lectible, or Dee Licious, because she lives in Kiss Mee). Fun Gus—Michael Kenny. Moon Shine—Mark A Godbois.

 

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