They sighted Neckerdam after dawn the following day. Alastair reported that friends of the Sidhe Foundation had visited Omphalia in Panelassion, the second of Caster’s three sites; Harris remembered Panelassion being the fair world’s Greece. The Sidhe Foundation men found the same sort of Cabinet-henge arrangement there, abandoned; the ceremony was completed, the second link to the grim world cut.
Harris decided not to return to the forward cabin for the Neckerdam landing. The shade of Jean-Pierre might be waiting there for him. He stayed in the lounge and, through its windows, watched the landing, then the refueling and reprovisioning that followed.
Workmen of the Sidhe Foundation came with a coffin for Jean-Pierre. Harris saw Doc go outside and issue them orders. They brought the casket aboard. A few minutes later they left with it, carrying it like pallbearers.
The last of Jean-Pierre. Harris waved good-bye from behind a small round window.
Other men brought new stores, more weapons, additional ammunition, books requested by Doc and Caster Roundcap. Harris asked for a welding torch; Alastair told him the lab was already fitted with one.
Harris checked the map in the lab cabin and found their destination: the nation of Aluxia. Alastair had pronounced it “Alushia.” It sprawled across what on the grim world would have been Yucatan, Guatemala, and Belize.
Doc came back aboard with a man and woman. He introduced Harris to Ladislas and Welthow, pilots employed by the Foundation—“Aboard,” Doc said, “so Noriko and the rest of the pilots can get some rest instead of being bound to the cockpit.”
The new pilots both wore battered leather bomber-style jackets—his black, hers red.
Ladislas, whom Doc said was from faraway Dacisperia, was a head shorter than Harris but had a firm grip. His dark hair, pale complexion, and the point to his ears gave him a sinister aspect. He obviously enjoyed it, and cultivated a smile full of both charm and menace. He spoke with a heavy accent full of rolling R’s: “I understand some of you are learning to fly. Perhaps we will find out if the Frog Prince is capable of an outside loop.”
Alastair said, “Perhaps we will find out if you can pass through spinning propellers without being hurt.”
Welthow, nicknamed Welthy, was a head shorter than Ladislas. Her hair was blond, twined into a waist-length braid. She had muscles like a cat and a grin that suggested she’d just been at the cream. Harris decided that she looked like pure sex in a compact frame. He was surprised that he felt like noticing. “Ignore Ladislas,” she said. “He’s crashed in every outside loop he’s tried. Won’t rest until he gets it right.”
Doc got them and their gear squared away.
Through the windows, Harris saw the mechanics shake their heads over the engines, but by midmorning the Frog Prince was airborne.
When the others came back to the lounge or the bunks after seeing the takeoff show, Harris waved Joseph over. “Do you know how to use a welder?”
“I do.”
“Would you help me put something together? I have a kind of a sick toy in mind. Something that will give one of Duncan’s men fits.”
“With such a goal, I would be happy to help.”
Gaby sat with Doc in front of the replacement talk-box and learned everything she could about talk-boxes.
There were four types. Singles could only receive sound. Doubles could send and receive sound. Triples could receive sound and pictures. Quadruples, like most of the ones scattered through Doc’s headquarters, could send and receive sound and pictures. Most of the triples and quadruples in existence, and most of the broadcasts for them, were black-and-white, but color was available—just very expensive.
Each talk-box could receive signals two ways, from the Ether or the Grid.
The Grid was a network of cables stretching to many parts of the world. It was used mostly for two-way communications, like the telephone system she was used to. But most parts of the Grid could handle full sound and picture transmissions. Two people with quadruples set up on the Grid could talk to one another’s TV images.
The Ether seemed to be radio/TV broadcast transmissions. It was made up mostly of entertainment and news programming, but certain portions were set aside for communications between talk-boxes not set up on the Grid. These included the devices installed in the cockpit of the Frog Prince and the bridges of liftships—what the fairworlders called zeppelins and blimps—and ships at sea.
There was still a third arrangement, enjoyed by the talk-box in the lounge of the Frog Prince. That talk-box was set up to send and receive through the Ether, but could also broadcast to and receive from special relay stations attached to the Grid. Doc said he paid a fortune for the service. “But at critical times, the ability to call into the Grid from the plane can save your life.”
“Pretty good, Doc.” Gaby smiled and decided not to tell him that the grimworlders had such things in their cars.
Homes that could afford it tended to have one quadruple for entertainment and one double to act as a telephone. But if the double broke down, the owner could plug the quadruple into the Grid and use it for ordinary communications. Gaby found the arrangement handy.
“You,” Doc said, “seem to have an affinity for the Grid. You say you’ve never seen any entertainment broadcasts as Gabrielle.”
“Can’t remember any, no.”
“So the Grid may act as some enormous antenna for your Gift. Even across the gulf between worlds. I wonder if you could tap into the Grid of the grim world, too.”
“That would be something. But I don’t think I ever have.”
“We’ll try another time. For now, we’ll try a couple of tests. I want you to see if you can find and talk to a central Grid operator in Neckerdam. And then—well, I had Brian Banwite deliver a handful of talk-boxes for this craft, because I want you to try to blow some of them up.”
“Oh, good.”
“It wouldn’t bother me at all if some of the pieces broke off and stuck on impact,” Harris said.
Joseph nodded. “That simplifies matters. Instead of welding, we will solder.”
They started with a smallish bronze bowl. They assembled small pieces of iron or steel, each from one-half to one inch in length, and sharpened each one to a razory point or edge. Harris thought about sacrificing his lockback hunting knife from the grim world, letting Joseph cut it into shards, but decided that they had enough raw material from the bits of ferrous metal in the lab’s scrap drawer.
Joseph meticulously soldered all those blades to the convex surface of the bowl. The sharp edges pointed up; some were angled. When it was done, Harris decided that it looked like a cheese grater designed by a serial killer.
Joseph looked at it. “This will hurt someone very badly.”
“That bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“But you made it anyway.”
The giant was slow in answering. “All I want is for the world to leave me alone, and never again to hear bones cracking under my hands. But if the world must drag me back into its affairs, if it insists that I hurt anyone, I will hurt those who seem to find such joy in inflicting pain. Men like Duncan and those who serve him.”
With a hammer and ream, Harris punched three holes at regular intervals around the bowl’s rim and used a file to sand them smooth. He tied a long cord to each hole, then spent a while tying the whole arrangement on over his clothes.
He’d have to practice while wearing the thing. Otherwise he might carve himself when doing kicks.