“You were entropically displaced,” I told him. “Did you fellows build this house?”
“No, we found it here, just as it is, unfinished, empty, abandoned,” Andy said. “We found a town nearby. Everybody seemed content, used to make a gala event out of the first day of gathering. We went along; nice in the woods. Then, one day, a bunch of loud-mouthed strangers showed up, began interfering, telling people they didn’t have to work anymore.”
“At first, people tried to argue with them,” Smovia contributed. “Said they enjoyed the gathering; but the gangs ridiculed them, said they didn’t need to be slaves anymore, that there’d be plenty of new slaves. We got out. We found food in the woods,” he continued, “nuts and berries and mushrooms. But we needed more. We killed a small animal―like a squirrel, or maybe a marmoset. Agile little devils. Took a week, but finally we snared one. Built a fire and cooked it. I had some ether in my kit; that helped get the fire started. Delicious! We’ve eaten pretty well, but, Colonel, it’s been a long time. Andy looks…” He shifted to a lower tone. “―and I do too, I suppose. A pond makes a poor mirror. You have to disturb it to get in position to see your reflection, and…” He fell silent and reached out a callused hand to touch my arm. “You’re really here?” he asked anxiously. “This isn’t just another delusion?”
“I’m as really here as anything I know,” I told him. “Take it easy, boy. We’ll get you out of here.”
“They arrested the doc and me,” Andy put in. “They left poor Baby―she was about three―to shift for herself. After a few days, some of the locals came with Baby, and let us out. We kept out of sight of the gangs, and sneaked out of town, and after a few days we found the house. We had to fix it up a little, and we had sort of resigned ourselves, I guess. Do you really think we can get back home?”
“We had some doozies,” Smovia was mumbling, talking to himself. “Delusions, I mean. Once we saw a parade,” he went on. “Big animals, like elephants, only with shovel-tusks, with gold, purple trappings, and rats in blue uniforms and other rats in red on green―”
“The Imperial Guard,” Swft said. “The Three Brigades. A state review. How―?”
“Once a party of rats came close to us, halooing and beating the brush,” Helm said.
“We thought they were looking for us,” Smovia added, “but they passed by and paid no attention to the smoke coming out of the chimney, so it must have been something else.”
“Not necessarily,” I speculated. “They may have been in another phase, and couldn’t see the house.”
“Doubtful,” Swft supplied. “Although these Two-Law people have taken over the technical complex, they have no one trained in its use.”
“That’s one for our side,” I contributed.
The old fellows had their heads together, discussing something with quiet intensity. Then Helm―I found it hard to think of this haggard middle-aged man as pink-cheeked Lieutenant Helm―went to the little girl-rat and said hesitantly, “Your Highness…” He didn’t seem to know what to say next. She threw herself at him, embraced him and started to cry. “Candy! Candy! I got losted and…” She paused to look at me. “―and Uncanul found me!”
Helm seemed too flustered to speak, and Smovia gently disengaged the girl’s grip and hugged and petted her. It seemed she usually spoke Swedish, which was considerably better than her rather babyish English. That wasn’t surprising, considering that she’d been raised by a couple of Swedes.
“There, Baby, we’re all together now,” Helm comforted her. “It’s all right―and we’ll soon have you home again, now that Uncle Colonel is here.”
Chapter 16
It took a few minutes to get settled and pull homemade chairs up to the slabs-with-the-bark-on table and to get everybody calmed down enough to talk sense―or what had to pass for sense in a milieu devoid of familiar certainties.
“So you two bachelors raised Baby from a pup,” I commented. “I’d say you did a good job; she’s a nice kid.”
“I must protest,” Swft put in, not very heatedly. “You must show respect for Her Highness.”
“We’ll have to skip all that for now, General,” I told him. “What do you make of the situation?”
“From the disruption of conditions in the Skein,” he stated, “I must conclude that on this once-sacrosanct phase, the Two-Law people have prevailed, and the Noble House has fallen. The Jade Palace is in the hands of its enemies. Now,” he went on without pause, “it appears obvious that we must penetrate the City and the Royal Enclosure itself, and after proper preparation, present Her Highness to the populace as proof of the deception on which those Two-Law folk have based their usurpation.”
“Swell,” I commented. “I hope you have it all worked out just how we’re going to do that―and why we humongs should stick our necks out.”
“To put an end to the invasion,” Smovia answered my question. “It’s in our interest to restore the old regime, even if it didn’t deserve to be preserved for its own sake.”
“By which you imply that it does,” I interpreted. “Deserve to be preserved, I mean. Tell me why.”
“We’ve told you about the town,” Andy put in. “Used to be a nice place: well-tended cottages with fruit trees all around, and the people lived well, and peacefully. Then this Grgsdn bunch came along with their dopey Two-Law propaganda, and everybody became dissatisfied and began to quarrel over the distribution of the town’s food supply. It all seemed to devolve on the continuity of the Noble House. With no heir, there’d be no Governance to see to an equitable distribution. The whole system was based on mutual confidence in the honesty of the other fellow, and the idea of “sometjiing for nothing” was like a slow poison: everybody was still eating well, but they started to worry, afraid somebody else was slacking on the job, but getting more than his share. Now everybody’s starving, and the Killing came, and now it’s chaos: a few hundred survivors of the three thousand villagers before the Two-Law business started, all divided into factions, each group embattled in its own little precinct, all concentrating on grabbing what they can of somebody else’s harvest, and no relief in sight. There are still organized troops in the capital, but the Governance seems paralyzed; most of the Royal officials refuse to cooperate with Grgsdn, and he can’t kill them, because without them, what little order that remains would collapse.”
“What makes you think the mere existence of a child heiress will make any difference?” was my next question. Swft and Smovia both spoke at once.
“The people are basically loyal to the old order―”
“These are decent folks: they’ve just lost their bearings. Once they see a clear path of duty, they’ll follow it.” Smovia said that, and Swft let it stand.
“First,” Andy contributed, “we need to get the rumors started that Grgsdn kidnapped the princess and held her in captivity, and she’s just now escaped.”
I looked at Minnie, or Baby, or Her Highness as Swft would have it. “What do you think, dear?” I asked her. She gave me that impish grin.
“I think it would be lovely to be a real princess,” she told me. She looked warmly at Helm. “Candy told me all about a place called Oz, and about Princess Ozma. I want to be like her.”
“I can’t blame you for that, my child,” I told her. “But we don’t have any magic. All we have is science.”
“No problem,” Smovia spoke up. “Science can do everything magic was ever supposed to do, and more.” He stood, a wiry, aging fellow with scrag-gly whiskers and a light in his eyes.