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diff --git a/old/68829-0.txt b/old/68829-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f4fa499..0000000 --- a/old/68829-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1310 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mistake inside, by James Blish - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Mistake inside - -Author: James Blish - -Release Date: August 24, 2022 [eBook #68829] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISTAKE INSIDE *** - - - - - - MISTAKE INSIDE - - By JAMES BLISH - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Startling Stories, March 1948. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -This was England, two hundred years before bomb craters had become a -fixed feature of the English landscape, and while the coffee house -still had precedence over the pub. The fire roared, and the smoke from -long clay church-warden pipes made a blue haze through which cheerful -conversation struggled. - -The door swung back, and the host stood in the opening, fat hands -on hips, surveying the scene contentedly. Someone, invisible in the -fog, drank a slurred uproarious toast, and a glass slammed into the -fireplace, where the brandy-coated fragments made a myriad of small -blue flames. - -"Split me if that goes not in the reckoning!" the innkeeper bellowed. -A ragged chorus of derision answered him. The inn cat shot down the -stairs behind him, and its shadow glided briefly over the room as it -passed the fire. It was an impossibly large, dark shadow, and for a -moment it blacked out several of the booths in the rear of the chamber; -the close, motionless air seemed to take on a chill. Then it was gone, -and the cat, apparently annoyed by the noise, vanished into the depths -of a heavy chair. - -The host forgot about it. He was accustomed to its sedentary tastes. -It often got sat on in the after-theater hilarity. He rolled -good-naturedly across the room as someone pounded on a table for him. - -But the cat, this time, had not merely burrowed into the cushions. It -was gone. In the chair, in a curiously transparent condition which made -him nearly invisible in the uncertain light, sat a dazed, tired figure -in a Twentieth-Century Tux.... - -The radio was playing a melancholy opus called "Is You Is or Is You -Ain't, My Baby," as the cab turned the corner. "Here you are, sir," -croaked the driver in his three A.M. voice. - -The sleepy-eyed passenger's own voice was a little unreliable. "How -much?" - -The fare was paid and the cabby wearily watched his erstwhile customer -go up the snow-covered walk between the hedges. He put the car in gear. -Then he gaped and let the clutch up. The engine died with a reproachful -gasp. - -The late rider had staggered suddenly sidewise toward the bushes--had -he been that drunk? Of course, he had only tripped and fallen out of -sight; the cabby's fleeting notion that he had melted into the air -was an illusion, brought on by the unchristian lateness of the hour. -Nevertheless the tracks in the snow did stop rather unaccountably. The -cabby swore, started his engine, and drove away, as cautiously as he -had ever driven in his life. - -Behind him, from the high tree in the yard, a cat released a lonely -ululation on the cold, still night. - -The stage was set.... - -There is order in all confusions; but Dr. Hugh Tracy, astronomer, -knew nothing of the two events recorded above when his adventure -began, so he could make no attempt at integrating them. Indeed, he was -in confusion enough without dragging in any stray cats. One minute -he had been charging at the door of Jeremy Wright's apartment, an -automatic in his hand and blind rage in his heart. As his shoulder had -splintered the panel, the world had revolved once around him, like a -scene-changing stunt in the movies. - - * * * * * - -The scene had changed, all right. He was not standing in Jeremy -Wright's apartment at all, but in a low-roofed, dirt-floored room built -of crudely shaped logs, furnished only with two antique chairs and a -rickety table from which two startled men were arising. The two were -dressed in leathern jerkins of a type fashionable in the early 1700's. - -"I--I beg your pardon," he volunteered lamely. "I must have mixed the -apartments up." He did not turn to go immediately, however, for as he -thought disgustedly concerning the lengths to which some people will -go to secure atmosphere, he noticed the dirty mullioned window across -the room. The sight gave him a fresh turn. He might just possibly have -mistaken the number of Jeremy Wright's apartment, but certainly he -hadn't imagined running up several flights of stairs! Yet beyond the -window he could see plainly a cheerful sunlit street. - -Sunlit. The small fact that it had been 3:00 A.M. just a minute before -did not help his state of mind. - -"Might I ask what you're doing breaking out of my room in this -fashion?" one of the queerly-costumed men demanded, glaring at Hugh. -The other, a younger man, waved his hand indulgently at his friend -and sat down again. "Relax, Jonathan," he said. "Can't you see he's a -transportee?" - -The older man stared more closely at the befuddled Dr. Tracy. "So he -is," he said. "I swear, since Yero came to power again this country has -been the dumping ground of half the universe. Wherever do they get such -queer clothes, do you suppose?" - -"Come on in," invited the other. "Tell us your story." He winked -knowingly at Jonathan, and Hugh decided he did not like him. - -"First," he said, "Would you mind telling me something about that -window?" - -The two turned to follow his pointed finger. "Why, it's just an -ordinary window, in that it shows what's beyond it," said the young -man. "Why?" - -"I wish I knew," Hugh groaned, closing his eyes and trying to remember -a few childhood prayers. The only one that came to mind was something -about fourteen angels which hardly fitted the situation. After a moment -he looked again, this time behind him. As he had suspected, the broken -door did not lead back into the hallway of the apartment building, but -into a small bedchamber of decidedly pre-Restoration cast. - -"Take it easy," advised Jonathan. "It's hard to get used to at first. -And put that thing away--it's a weapon of some kind, I suppose. The -last transportee had one that spouted a streamer of purple gas. He was -a very unpleasant customer. What do you shoot?" - -"Metal slugs," said Hugh, feeling faintly hysterical. "Where am I, -anyhow?" - -"Outside." - -"Outside what?" - -"That's the name of the country," the man explained patiently. "My -name, by the way, is Jonathan Bell, and this gentleman is Oliver -Martin." - -"Hugh Tracy. Ph.D., F.R.A.S.," he added automatically. "So now I'm -inside Outside, eh? How far am I from New York? I'm all mixed up." - -"New York!" exclaimed Martin. "That's a new one. The last one said he -was from Tir-nam-beo. At least I'd heard of that before. How did you -get here, Tracy?" - -"Suddenly," Tracy said succinctly. "One minute I was bashing at the -door of Jeremy Wright's apartment, all set to shoot him and get my wife -out of there; and then, blooey!" - -"Know this Wright fellow very well, or anything about him?" - -"No. I've seen him once or twice, that's all. But I know Evelyn's been -going to his place quite regularly while I was at the observatory." - -Bell pulled a folded and badly soiled bit of paper from his breast -pocket, smoothed it out on the splintery table top, and passed it to -Hugh. "Look anything like this?" he asked. - -"That's him! How'd you get this? Is he here somewhere?" - -Bell and Martin both smiled. "It never fails," the younger man -commented. "That's Yero, the ruler of this country during fall seasons. -He just assumed power again three months ago. That picture comes off -the town bulletin board, from a poster announcing his approaching -marriage." - -"Look," Hugh said desperately. "It isn't as if I didn't like your -country, but I'd like to get back to my own. Isn't there some way I can -manage it?" - -"Sorry," Martin said. "We can't help you there. I suppose the best -thing for you to do is to consult some licensed astrologer or -thaumaturgist; he can tell you what to do. There are quite a few good -magicians in this town--they all wind up here eventually--and one of -them ought to be able to shoot you back where you belong." - -"I don't put any stock in that humbug. I'm an astronomer." - -"Not responsible for your superstitions. You asked my advice, and I -gave it." - -"Astrologers!" Hugh groaned. "Oh, my lord!" - -"However," Martin continued, "you can stay here with us for the time -being. If you're an enemy of Yero's, you're a friend of ours." - -Hugh scratched his head. The mental picture of himself asking an -astrologer for guidance did not please him. - -"I suppose I'll have to make the best of this," he said finally. -"Nothing like this ever happened to me before, or to anybody I've ever -heard of, so I guess I'm more or less sane. Thanks for the lodging -offer. Right now I'd like to go hunt up--ulp--a magician." - -Bell smiled. "All right," he said, "if you get lost in the city, just -ask around. They're friendly folk, and more of 'em than you think have -been in your spot. Most of the shopkeepers know Bell's place. After -you've wandered about a bit you'll get the layout better. Then we can -discuss further plans." - -Hugh wondered what kind of plans they were supposed to discuss, but -he was too anxious to discover the nature of the place into which he -had fallen to discuss the question further. Bell led him down a rather -smelly hallway to another door, and in a moment he found himself -surveying the street. - - * * * * * - -It was all incredibly confusing. The language the two had spoken was -certainly modern English, yet the busy, narrow thoroughfare was just as -certainly Elizabethan in design. The houses all had overhanging second -stories. Through the very center of the cobbled street ran a shallow -gutter in which a thin stream of swill-like liquid trickled. The bright -light flooding the scene left no doubt as to its reality, and yet -there was still the faint aura of question about it. The feeling was -intensified when he discovered that there was no sun; the whole dome -of sky was an even dazzle. It was all like a movie set, and it was a -surprise to find that the houses had backs to them. - -Across the street, perched comfortably in the cool shadows of a -doorway, an old man slept, a tasselled nightcap hanging down over his -forehead. Over his head a sign swayed: COPPERSMITH. Not ten feet away -from him a sallow young man was leaning against the wall absorbed -in the contents of a very modern-looking newspaper, which bore the -headlines: DOWSER CONFESSES FAIRY GOLD PLANT. Lower down on the page -Hugh could make out a boxed item headed: STILETTO KILLER FEIGNS -INSANITY. In a moment, he was sure, he wouldn't have to feign it. The -paper was as jarring an anachronism in the Shakespearean street scene -as a six-cylinder coupe would have been. - -At least he was spared having to account for any cars, though. The -conventional mode of transportation was horses, it seemed. Every so -often one would canter past recklessly. Their riders paid little regard -to the people under their horses' hoofs and the people in their turn -scattered with good-natured oaths, like any group of twentieth century -pedestrians before a taxi. - -As Hugh stepped off the low stone lintel he heard a breathy whistle, -and turning, beheld a small red-headed urchin coming jerkily toward -him. The boy was alternately whistling and calling "Here, Fleet, Fleet, -Fleet! Nice doggy! Here, Fleet!" His mode of locomotion was very -peculiar; he lunged mechanically from side to side or forward as if he -were a machine partly out of control. - -As he came closer Hugh saw that he was holding a forked stick in his -hands, the foot of the Y pointing straight ahead, preceding the lad no -matter where he went. On the boy's head was a conical blue cap lettered -with astrological and alchemical symbols, which had sagged so as to -completely cover one eye, but he seemed loathe to let go of the stick -to adjust it. - -In a moment the boy had staggered to a stop directly before Hugh, while -the rigid and quivering end of the stick went down to Hugh's shoes and -began slowly to ascend. He was conscious of a regular sniffing sound. - -"Better tend to that cold, son," he suggested. - -"That isn't me, it's the rod," the boy said desperately. "Please, sir, -have you seen a brown puppy--" At this point the stick finished its -olfactory inspection of Hugh and jerked sidewise, yanking the boy after -it. As the urchin disappeared, still calling "Here, Fleet!" Hugh felt a -faint shiver. Here was the first evidence of a working magic before his -eyes, and his sober astronomer's soul recoiled from it. - -A window squealed open over his head, and he jumped just in time to -avoid a gush of garbage which was flung casually down toward the -gutter. Thereafter he clung as close to the wall as he could, and kept -beneath the overhanging second stories. Walking thus, with his eyes -on the sole-punishing cobbles, deep in puzzlement, his progress was -presently arrested by collision with a mountain. - -When his eyes finally reached the top of it, it turned out to be a -man, a great muscular thug clad in expensive blue velvet small-clothes -and a scarlet cape like an eighteenth century exquisite. Was there no -stopping this kaleidoscope of anachronism? - -"Weah's ya mannas?" the apparition roared. "Move out!" - -"What for?" Hugh replied in his most austere classroom tone. "I don't -care to be used as a sewage pail any more than you do." - -"Ah," said the giant. "Wise guy, eh? Dunno ya bettas, eh?" There was -a whistling sound as he drew a thin sword which might have served -to dispatch whales. Hugh's Royal Society reserve evaporated and he -clawed frantically for his automatic, but before the double murder was -committed the giant lowered his weapon and bent to stare more closely -at the diminutive doctor. - -"Ah," he repeated. "Ya a transportee, eh?" - -"I guess so," Tracy said, remembering that Martin had used the word. - -"Weah ya from?" - -"Brooklyn," Hugh said hopefully. - -The giant shook his head. "Weah you guys think up these here names is a -wonda. Well, ya dunno the customs, that's easy t' see." - -He stepped aside to let Hugh pass. - -"Thank you," said Hugh with a relieved sigh. "Can you tell me where I -can find an astrologer?" He still could not pronounce the word without -choking. - -"Ummmm--most of 'em are around the squaah. Ony, juss between you an' -me, buddy, I'd keep away from there till the p'rade's ova. Yero's got -an orda out fa arrestin' transportees." The giant nodded pleasantly. -"Watch ya step." He stalked on down the street. - -Looking after him, Hugh was startled to catch a brief glimpse of a man -dressed in complete dinner clothes, including top hat, crossing the -street and rounding a corner. Hoping that this vision from his own age -might know something significant about this screwy world, he ran after -him, but lost him in the traffic. He found nothing but a nondescript -and unhappy alley-cat which ran at his approach. - - * * * * * - -Discouraged, Hugh went back the way he had come and set out in search -of the public square and an astrologer. As he walked, he gradually -became conscious of a growing current of people moving in the same -direction, a current which was swelled by additions from every street -and byway they passed. There was a predominance of holiday finery, and -he remembered the giant's words about a parade. Well, he'd just follow -the crowd; it would make finding the square that much easier. - -Curious snatches of conversation reached his ears as he plodded along. -"... Aye, in the square, sir; one may hope that it bodes us some -change...." "... Of Yero eke, that of a younge wyfe he gat his youthe -agoon, and withal...." "... An' pritnear every time dis guy toins -up, yiz kin count on gittin' it in the neck...." "... Oft Scyld Yero -sceathena threatum, hu tha aethlingas ellen fremedon...." - -Most of the fragments were in English, but English entirely and -indiscriminately mixed as to century. Hugh wondered if the few that -sounded foreign were actually so, or whether they were some Saxon or -Jutish ancestor of English--or, perhaps, English as it might sound in -some remote future century. If that latter were so, then there might be -other cities in Outside where only old, modern and future French was -spoken, or Russian, or-- - -The concept was too complex to entertain. He remembered the giant's -warning, and shook his head. This world, despite the obvious sweating -reality of the crowd around him and the lumpy pavement beneath his -feet, was still too crazy to be anything but a phantom. He was curious -to see this Yero, who looked so inexplicably like Jeremy Wright, but -he could not take any warning of Outside very seriously. His principle -concern was to get back inside again. - -As the part of the crowd which bore him along debouched from the narrow -street into a vast open space, he heard in the distance the sound of -trumpets, blowing a complicated fanfare. A great shouting went up, but -somehow it seemed not the usual cheering of expectant parade-goers. -There was a strange undertone--perhaps of animosity? Hugh could not -tell. - -In the press he found that he could move neither forward nor back. He -would have to stand where he was until the event was over and the mob -dispersed. - -By craning his neck over the shoulders of those in front of him--a -procedure which, because of his small stature, involved some rather -precarious teetering on tip-toe--he could see across the square. It was -surrounded on all four sides by houses and shops, but the street which -opened upon it directly opposite him was a wide one. Through it he saw -a feature of the city which the close-grouped overhanging houses had -hidden before--a feature which put the finishing touch upon the sense -of unreality and brought back once more the suggestion of a vast set -for a Merrie-England movie by a bad director. - -It was a castle. Furthermore it was twice as big as any real castle -ever was, and its architecture was totally out of the period of -the town below it. It was out of any period. It was a modernist's -dream, a Walter Gropius design come alive. The rectangular façade and -flanking square pylons were vaguely reminiscent of an Egyptian temple -of Amenhotep IV's time, but the whole was of bluely gleaming metal, -shimmering smoothly in the even glare of the sky. - -From the flat summits floated scarlet banners bearing an unreadable -device. A clustered group of these pennons before the castle seemed -to be moving, and by stretching his neck almost to the snapping point -Hugh could see that they were being carried by horsemen who were coming -slowly down the road. Ahead of them came the trumpeters, who were now -entering the square, sounding their atonal tocsin. - -Now the trumpeters passed abreast of him, and the crowd made a lane -to let them through. Next came the bearers of the standards, two by -two, holding their horses' heads high. A group of richly dressed but -ruffianly retainers followed them. The whole affair reminded Hugh of -a racketeer's funeral in Chicago's prohibition days. Finally came the -sedan chair which bore the royal couple--and Dr. Hugh Tracy at last -lost hold of his sanity. For beside the aloof, hated Yero-Jeremy in the -palanquin was Evelyn Tracy. - -When Hugh came back to his senses he was shouting unintelligible -epithets, and several husky townsmen were holding his arms. "Easy, -Bud," one of them hissed into his ear. "Haven't you ever seen him -before?" - -Hugh forced himself back to a semblance of calmness, and had sense -enough to say nothing of Evelyn. "Who--what is he?" he gasped. The -other looked at him tensely for a moment, then, reassured, let go of -him. - -"That's Yero. He's called many names, but the most common is The Enemy. -Better get used to seeing him. You can't help hating him, but it'll do -you no good to fly off the handle like that." - -"You mean everybody hates him?" - -The townsman frowned. "Why, certainly. He's The Enemy." - -"Then why don't you throw him out?" - -"Well--" - -The other burgher, who had said nothing thus far, broke in: "Presenuk -prajolik solda, soldama mera per ladsua hrutkal; per stanisch -felemetskje droschnovar." - -"Exactly," said the other man. "You okay now, Bud?" - -"Ulp," Hugh said. "Yes, I'm all right." - - * * * * * - -The crowd, still roaring its ambiguous cheer, was following the -procession out the other end of the square, and shortly Hugh found -himself standing almost alone. A sign over a nearby shop caught his -eye: _Dr. ffoni, Licensed Magician_. Here was what he had been looking -for. As he ran quickly across the square toward the rickety building, -he thought he caught a glimpse out of the tail of his eyes of a top hat -moving along in the departing crowd; but he dismissed it. That could -wait. - -The shop was dark inside, and at first he thought it empty. But in -answer to repeated shouts a scrambling began in the back room, and -a nondescript little man entered, struggling into a long dark gown -several sizes too large for him. - -"Sorry," he puffed, trying to regain his right hand, which he had lost -down the wrong sleeve, "out watching the parade. May I serve you, young -sir?" - -"Yes. I'm a transportee, and I'd like to get back where I belong." - -"So would we all, so would we all, indeed," said the magician, nodding -vigorously. "Junior!" - -"Yes, paw." A gawky adolescent peered out of the back room. - -"Customer." - -"Ah, paw, I don wanna go in t' any trance. I'm dragging a rag-bag to -a rat-race t'night an' I wanna be groovy. You know prognostics allus -knock me flatter'n a mashed-potato san'witch." - -"You'll do as you're told, or I'll not allow you to use the broomstick. -You see, young sir," the magician addressed Hugh, "familiar spirits -are at somewhat of a premium around here, there being so many in this -town in my profession; but since my wife was a Sybil, my son serves me -adequately in commissions of this nature." - -He turned back to the boy, who was now sitting on a stool behind the -counter, and produced a pink lollipop from the folds of his robe. The -boy allowed it to be placed in his mouth docilely enough, and closed -his eyes. Hugh watched, not knowing whether to laugh or to swear. If -this idiotic procedure produced results, he was sure he'd never be able -to contemplate Planck's Constant seriously again. - -"Now then, while we're waiting," the sorcerer continued, "you should -understand the situation. All living has two sides, the IN-side and -the OUT-side. The OUT-side is where the roots of significant mistakes -are embedded; the IN-side where they flower. Since most men have -their backs turned to the OUT-side all their lives, few mistakes can -be rectified. But if a man be turned, as if on a pivot, so that he -face the other way, he may see and be on the OUT-side, and have the -opportunity to uproot his error if he can find the means. Such a -fortunate man is a transportee." - -"So, in effect, existence has just been given a half-turn around me, to -put me facing outside instead of inside where I belong?" - -"A somewhat egotistical way of putting it, but that is the general -idea. The magicians of many ages have used this method of disposing of -their enemies; for unless the transportee can find his Atavars--the -symbols, as it were, of his error--and return them to their proper -places, he must remain Outside forever. This last many have done by -choice, since none ever dies Outside." - -"I'd just as soon not," Hugh said with a groan. "What are my Atavars?" - -"To turn a capstan there must be a lever; and to pivot a man Outside -means that two other living beings must act as the ends of this lever, -and exchange places in time. Your Atavars changed places in time, while -you stood still in time and space, but were pivoted to face Outside." - -At this point he reached over to the boy and gave an experimental tug -on the protruding stick of the lollipop. It slipped out easily; all the -pink candy had dissolved. "Ah," he said. "We are about ready." He made -a few passes with his hands and began to sing: - - "Jet propulsion, Dirac hole, - Trochilminthes, Musterole, - Plenum, bolide, Ding an sich, - Shoot the savvy to me, Great White Which!" - -The tune was one more commonly associated with Pepsi-Cola. After a -moment the boy's mouth opened, and, licking the remains of the lollipop -from its corners, he said clearly, "Two hundred. Night-prowlers." - -"Is that all?" Hugh said, not much surprised. - -"That's quite enough. Well, maybe not quite enough, but it's about all -I ever get." - -"But what does it mean?" - -"Why, simply this: that your Atavars are two hundred years apart from -each other; and that they are night-prowlers." - -"Two hundred years! And I have to find them?" - -"They are represented by simulacra in Outside. You must identify these -simulacra and touch each one; this done, they will exchange again, and -you will be rotated Inside. Have you seen any here?" - -A light burst in Hugh's brain. "I saw a man from my own age who looked -like a bona-fide night-prowler, all right." - -"You see?" The magician spread his hands expressively. "Half the work -is over. Simply search for another night-prowler whose costume is two -hundred years older--or, of course, younger--than the first. It's -very simple. Now, young sir--" The hands began to wash each other -suggestively. - - * * * * * - -Hugh produced a handful of coins. "That's no good," said the little -man with a sniff. "I can make that myself. It's the city's principle -industry. I don't suppose you have any sugar on you? Or rubber bands? -No? Hmm. How about that?" - -He prodded Hugh's vest. "That" was Hugh's Sigma Chi key, dangling from -his watch chain. He had been elected to the honorary society by virtue -of a closely reasoned paper on the deficiencies of current stellar -evolution hypotheses. With a grin he passed it across the counter. -"Thanks," the thaumaturgist said, "I collect fetishes. Totem fixation, -I guess." - -Feeling rather humble, Hugh left the shop and started back toward -Bell's house by the most direct route his memory could provide. Now -that he had begun to get his bearings, his stomach was reminding him -that he had gone the whole day without food. On the way he saw the -known Atavar half-way down a dark alley, contemplating a low doorway -sorrowfully; but when he arrived, the top-hatted figure was gone. -By the time he entered the house where he had his first glimpse of -Outside, he was decidedly discouraged, but the pleasant smell of food -revived him somewhat. - -"Good evening," Bell greeted him, though the ambiguous daylight was as -unvaryingly bright as ever. "Find your astrologer?" - -"Yes. Now I have to find a night-prowler. You wouldn't be one, by any -chance?" - -The man laughed softly. "In a sense, yes, but I'm too old to be the one -you want. You're Atavar-hunting, I take it?" - -"That's it." - -"Well, I'm not a simulacrum. I'm a native here, one of the original -settlers. Come on and eat, anyhow." He led the way into the room which -Hugh had first seen, and waved him to the table. On it was a platter -bearing a complete roast hog's head with an apple in its mouth and -three strips of bacon between its ears, a pudding, a meat pie, a -spitted duckling, three wooden trenchers--boards used as plates--and -three razor-sharp knives. Obviously forks were not in style Outside. - -"Has Yero's administration caused a potato shortage?" Hugh asked -curiously. - -"Potato? No. You transportees have odd ideas; you mean potatoes to eat? -Don't you know they're a relative of the deadly nightshade?" - -Hugh shrugged and fell to. There was bread, anyhow. During the course -of the meal the two pumped him about his experiences during the day, -and he answered with increasing caution. They seemed to be up to -something. He especially disliked young Martin, whose knowing smile -when Hugh described his belief that Yero's queen was in actuality his -own wife irritated him. As the dinner ended Bell came to the point. - -"You've heard Yero spoken of as The Enemy? Well, his rule here is -intermittent. He just pops up every fall season and takes the place of -the Old One, who is the only rightful king, and a good one. It's during -Yero's ascendancy that all the transportees show up--all the people who -make mistakes during that period, if the mistakes are of a certain -kind, get pivoted around here to correct them. It gets pretty nuisancy. - -"You can see what I mean. Here you come busting in on us and split our -good pine door and eat one third of our food. Not that we begrudge you -the food; you're welcome to it; but it is a bother to have all these -strangers around. In addition it decreases the future population in -a way I haven't time to describe now. Everybody hates Yero, even the -transportees. It's our idea to assassinate him before he gets to come -back another time; then the Old One can really do us some good and the -town can come back to normal. Sounds reasonable, doesn't it?" - -"I thought no one ever died here." - -"Nobody ever does, naturally, but accidents or violence can distribute -an individual to the point of helplessness. Since you seem to hate Yero -like the rest of us, we thought you might like to throw in with us." - -The hospitality of the two did not permit him to refuse immediately, -but more and more he was sure he did not want to be involved in any -project of theirs. Bell's picture of what the Outside's substitute for -death was like revolted him; and in addition, the thought occurred to -him that it would be dangerous to take any positive steps while he was -still ignorant of the error that had brought him here. - -"I'd like to sleep on that," he said cautiously. "Do you mind if I -defer judgment for the night? I haven't had any sleep for thirty-six -hours, and I'll just pass out, if I don't get some." - -"All right," Bell said. "You think it over. With The Enemy out of the -way it might be easier to find your Atavars, too, you know. Nothing -ever works right while he's in power." - - * * * * * - -When Hugh awoke his brain did not function properly for quite a few -seconds. The bed had had fleas in it, and the changeless brilliancy of -the "daylight" had kept him awake a long time despite his exhaustion. -The sight of the black-clad figure seated on the nearby stool did not -register at first. - -"Good mornin'," he said muzzily. Then, "You!" - -"Me," the man in the top hat replied ungrammatically. "I had to wait -for the two Princes to get out of the house before I could see you. -I've been looking for you." - -"_You've_ been looking for _me_," Hugh repeated angrily, sitting up -in bed. He noticed with only faint surprise that the wall of the room -was plainly visible through the visitant's stiff shirt bosom. "Well, -you'll have to solidify a minute if you're going to do me any good. I'm -supposed to touch you." - -"Not yet. When you do, this image will vanish, and I've got a few -things to talk to you about before that happens. I got bounced back -two hundred years in time just on account of a fool mistake you made, -and I'm as anxious to see you straightened out as you are myself." He -hiccuped convulsively. "Luckily I'm a book collector with a special -bent towards Cruikshank. I had sense enough to consult Dr. Dee while I -was behind the times, and found out where you were. Do you know?" - -"Where I am? Why, I'm Outside." - -"Use your noggin. How much does 'Outside' mean to you, anyhow?" - -"Very little," Hugh agreed. "Well, the only other place I know where -people go that make mistakes is--awk! Now, wait a minute! Don't tell -me--" - -The figure nodded solemnly. "Now you've got it. You should have guessed -that when the Princes told you their boss was called the Old One. -You've already had clue after clue that they're forbidden to conceal -from you; that no one dies here; that all the world's magicians come -here eventually; that making money--remember the saying about the root -of all evil?--is the town's principle industry; and so on." - -"Well, well." Hugh scratched his head. "Hugh Tracy, Ph.D., F.R.A.S., -spending a season in Hell just like Rimbaud or some other crazy poet. -The fall season at that. How Evelyn would love this. But it's not quite -as I would have pictured it." - -"Why should it have been?" - -Hugh could think of no answer. "Who's Yero, then? He's called The -Enemy." - -"He's their enemy, sure enough. I don't know exactly who he is, but -he's someone in authority, and his job is to see that the Purgatory -candidates get a chance to straighten things out for themselves. -Naturally the Fallen buck him as much as possible; and part of the -trick is to disguise the place somewhat, to keep its nature hidden -from the transportees--the potential damned--and lure them into doing -something that will keep them here for good. That bed you're in, for -instance, is probably a pool of flaming brimstone or something of the -sort." - -Hugh bounded out hastily. - -"Yero establishes himself in the fortress of Dis, which is what that -pile of chromium junk is, up on the hill, after you get behind the -disguise. Each time he comes, he makes a tour through the town, showing -himself to each newcomer in a form which will mean the most to that -person. The important thing is that few people take kindly to being -corrected in the fundamental kinds of mistakes that bring them here, so -that nine times out of ten Yero's appearance to you makes you hate him." - -"Hmm," Hugh said. "I begin to catch on, around the edges, as it were. -To me he looked like a man I'd started out to murder a few days ago." - -"You're on the track. Examine your motives, use your head, son, and -don't let the Princes trick you into anything." The pellucid shape -steadied and grew real and solid by degrees; the man in the top hat -rose and walked toward the bed. "Above all--don't hate Yero." - -His outstretched hand touched Hugh's sleeve, and he vanished on the -instant with a sharp hiccup. - -There was no one in the house, and nothing to eat but a half-consumed -and repellent-looking pudding left over from the "night" before, which -he finished for lack of anything else rather than out of any attraction -the suety object had as a breakfast dish. Then he left the house in -search of the other Atavar. - -The light was bright and cheerful as always, but he felt chilly all the -same. Discovering where he was had destroyed all of his amusement in -the town's crazy construction, and taken the warmth out of his bones. -He eyed the passers-by uneasily, wondering as each one approached -him whether he was seeing a prisoner like himself, a soul in eternal -torment, or an emissary of the Fallen whose real form was ambiguous. - - * * * * * - -For the rest of the morning he roamed the streets in search of a -likely-looking figure, but finally he had to admit that his wanderings -were fruitless. He sat down on a doorstep to think it out. - -His Atavars were the "symbols of his error"; they were night-prowlers, -obviously, because he had been one himself, gun in hand. The error -itself was something to do with Jeremy Wright and Evelyn--not the -impending murder, because it had not been committed, but some other -error. The man in the top hat had been chosen, perhaps, because he had -conceived of Wright as a cavalier, a suave homebreaker, or something -of the sort; dinner clothes made a pointed symbol of such a notion. Of -what else, specifically, had he suspected Jeremy? Tom-catting! - -He groaned and dropped his head in his hands, remembering the cat he -had seen in conjunction with his first sight of the man in dinner -clothes. How was he to find one ragged alley-cat in a town where there -were doubtless hundreds? Cats did not wear period costumes. He couldn't -go around touching cats until something happened! - -He heard a sniffing sound and a thin mournful whine at his side. He -looked down. - -"Go 'way," he said. "I want a cat, not a mongrel pooch." - -The puppy, recoiling at the unfriendly tone, dropped its tail and -began to sidle away from him, and gloomily he watched it go. Brown -dog?--Brown cat?--Brown dog! An inspiration! - -"Here, Fleet," he essayed. The puppy burst into a frenzy of -tail-wagging and came back, with that peculiar angled trot only dogs -out of all the four-footed beasts seem to affect. Hugh patted its head, -and it whined and licked his hand. - -"There, there," he said. "You're lost, I know. So am I. If your name is -Fleet, we'll both be home shortly. It darn well better be Fleet." - -Hugh considered the animal speculatively. It certainly seemed to -respond to the name; but then, it was only a puppy, and might just as -easily respond to any friendly noise. Grimly he sat and waited. In -about an hour the dog began to get restless, and Hugh carted it across -the street to a shop and bought it some meat, leaving in payment a -letter from a colleague which the shopkeeper seemed to think was full -of cantrips, charms of some kind. Then he resumed his vigil. - -It was approximately four o'clock by his personal time-keeping system -when he finally heard the sound he had been listening for, but not -daring to expect--the voice of the red-headed urchin, calling his dog's -name in incredibly weary tones. In a moment the boy appeared, his face -tear-streaked, his feet stumbling, his eyes heavy from lack of sleep. -The stick was still pulling him, and the conical cap, by a miracle, -still rested askew on his head. The rod lunged forward eagerly as soon -as it pointed toward Hugh, and the boy stopped by the doorstep, the -divining rod pointing in quivering triumph squarely at the puppy. The -boy sat down in the street and began to bawl. - -"Now, now," said Hugh. "You've found your dog. Don't cry. What's the -matter?" - -"I haven't had any sleep or any food," the boy snuffled. "I couldn't -let go, and the dog could move faster than I could, so I've been pulled -all over the city, and I'll bet it's all the Old One's fault, too--" -His voice rose rapidly and Hugh tried to calm him down, a little -abstractedly, for in the reference to the Old One Hugh had recognized -the boy's real nature, and knew him for an ally. Wait till I tell -Evelyn, he told himself, that I've seen an Archangel and one of the -Cherubim face to face, and hatched plots with the Fallen! - -"I saw your dog, and figured probably you'd be along." - -"Oh, thank you, sir. I guess I'd have spent the rest of eternity -chasing him if you hadn't held him until I could catch up with him." He -looked angrily at the forked stick, which now lay inert and innocuous -on the cobbled pavement. "I used the wrong spell, and it had to smell -people. No wonder we could never get close enough to Fleet for him to -hear me!" - -"Do you think you could make the rod work again?" - -"Oh, yes, sir. Only I never would." - -"I want to use it. Do you mind?" - -"I don't mind. It's my uncle's, but I can always cut another one. Only -it won't work without the hat, and I took that from my uncle too. He's -an Authority," the urchin added proudly. Hugh thought of Goethe's -Sorcerer's Apprentice and grinned. - -"How come you didn't shake your head and knock it off when you got -tired?" - -"Oh, the hat only starts it. After that it goes by itself. I just -didn't want to lose my uncle's hat, that's all." - -"Good for you. Then suppose I borrow the hat for just a minute, and you -grab it when the stick starts. I want to find a cat." - -The boy shook his head doubtfully. "I wouldn't want to do it myself, -but it's your business. What kind of cat? I have to make up a spell." - -Hugh anticipated some difficulty in explaining what it was he wanted, -but to his relief the boy had already recognized him as a transportee -and understood at once. - -"All right. Put the hat on. Pick up the stick like I had it. That's it, -one fork in each hand. Now then: - - Seeker of souls, lost boys and girls, - Of objects and of wells, - Find his gate between the worlds - Before the curfew knells; - Find the cat who should reside - In the mortal world Inside." - - * * * * * - -The divining rod started forward with a terrific jerk, and Hugh plunged -after it. The boy ran alongside him and snatched off the magician's -cap. "Thanks," Hugh shouted. "You're welcome," the boy called after -him. "Good luck, sir, and thank you for holding my dog." Then the -stick hauled Hugh around a corner, and the dog-owner was gone; but in -Hugh's mind there remained a split-second glimpse of a strange smile, -mischievous, kindly, and agelessly wise. - -The cherub had not specified in his incantation which senses the rod -was to use, and so it had chosen the quickest one--intuition, or -supersensory-perception, or sixth-sense--Hugh had heard it called -many things, but until he held the ends of the fork he never quite -comprehended what it was. - -The stick drew him faster. His toes seemed barely to touch the hard -cobbles. Almost it seemed as if he were about to fly. Yet, somehow, -there was no wind in his face, nor any real sensation of speed. All -about him was a breathless quiet, an intent hush of light through which -he soared. The houses and shops of the town sped by him, blurred and -sadly unreal. The outlines danced waveringly in a haze of heat. - -The town was changing. - -Fear lodged a prickly lump in his larynx. The façades were going down -as he came closer to his own world. He knew that before long the -conventional disguises of the town would be melted, and Hell would -begin to show through. Startled faces turned to watch him as he passed, -and their features were not as they should be. Once he was sure he had -confronted Bell and Martin for an instant. - -A cry, distant and wild, went up behind him. It had been Bell--or was -it--Belial? Other feet were running beside his own; shortly there were -other cries, and then a gathering roar and tumult of voices; the street -began to throb dully with the stampeding feet of a great mob. The rod -yanked him down an alleyway. The thunder followed. - -In the unreal spaces of the public square the other entrances were -already black with blurred figures howling down upon him. The stick -did not falter, but rushed headlong toward the castle. His hands -sweated profusely on the fork, and his feet skimmed the earth in great -impossible bounds. The gates of the fortress swept toward him. There -were shadowy guards there, but they were looking through him at the mob -behind; the next instant he was passing them. - -[Illustration: The unreal spaces were black with blurred faces rushing -down upon him.] - -The mists of unreality became thick, translucent. Everything around -him was a vague reddish opalescence through which the sounds of the -herd rioted, seemingly from every direction. Suddenly he was sure he -was surrounded; but the rod arrowed forward regardless, and he had to -follow. - -At last the light began to coalesce, and in a moment he saw floating -before him a shining crystal globe, over which floated the illuminated -faces of his wife--and--Yero, The Enemy. This was the crucial instant, -and he remembered the simulacrum's advice: "Don't hate Yero." - -Indeed, he could not. He had nearly forgotten whom it was that Yero -resembled, so great was his desire for escape, and his fear of the -tumult behind him. - -The light grew, and by it, the table upon which the crystal rested, -and the bodies belonging to the two illuminated heads, became slowly -visible. There was a cat there, too; he saw the outline become sharp -as he catapulted on through the dimness. He tried to slow down as he -approached the table. The rod, this time, did not resist. The two heads -regarded him with slow surprise. The cat began to rise and bristle. - -The shouting died. - - * * * * * - -"Hugh!" - -He was in Jeremy Wright's apartment, a splintered door behind him, -his heels digging into the carpet to halt his headlong charge. In his -outstretched hand was, not a warped divining rod, but a gun. - -"Hugh!" his wife cried again. "You found out! But--" - -The table was still there, and the crystal. The cat and the castle -were gone. But Jeremy Wright was still dressed in the robes of an -astrologer. He _was_ an astrologer. - -"I'm sorry, darling, honestly--I knew you hated it, but--after all, -breaking in this way! And--a gun! After all, even if you do think it's -humbug--" - -Hugh looked at the serene face of Jeremy Wright, and silently pocketed -the automatic. There was nothing, after all, that he could have said to -either of them. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISTAKE INSIDE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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