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aren't from around here. What can I do for you?"

"We've undertaken one hell of a shopping trip," Jon-

Tom told her.

She sighed. "I was afraid of that. Just when I got

myself all nice and comfortable. Well, that's par for the

course."

Jon-Tom's eyes grew wide. "That's an expression of

my world."

"Is it? I traffic with so many I sometimes get confused.

Sure as the gleebs are on the fondike."

Jon-Tom decided to tread as lightly as possible, bearing

the rabbit's admonition in mind. "We don't want to

disturb you. We could come back tomorrow." He tried to

see past her, into the store. "You haven't by any chance

had a couple of other out-of-town customers in recently,

have you? An old ferret, maybe accompanied by a human

female?" He held his breath.

The kangaroo scratched under her chin with her free

hand. "Nope. No one of that description. In fact, I haven't

r

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Alan Dean Foster

had any local out-of-town customers stop by in some

time."

Forbearing to inquire into the nature of a local out-of-

towner, which seemed to Jon-Tom to be a contradiction in

terms, he permitted himself a moment of silent exultation.

They'd done it! With Drom's help they'd succeeded in

beating Jalwar to Crancularn. Now he could relax. The

object of their long, arduous journey was almost in his

grasp.

He turned to leave. "We don't want to upset your siesta.

We'll come back tomorrow."

A small brown shape pushed past him. Mudge took

up an aggressive stance on the lowest step. "Now let's

'old on a minim 'ere, guv'nor." The otter fixed the

proprietress with a jaundiced eye. "This 'ere dump is

the place I've been 'earin' about for weeks? This

cobbled-together wreck is the marvelous, the wondrous,

the magnificent Shop o' the Aether and Neither? And

you're the owner?"

The kangaroo nodded.

"Well," announced Mudge in disgust, "it sure as 'ell

don't look like much to me."

"Mudge!" Jon-Tom angrily grabbed the otter by his

shoulder.

The kangaroo, however, did not appear upset. "Ap-

pearances can be deceiving, my fuzzy little cousin." She

turned to face Jon-Tom as she stood on enormous, power-

ful feet. She was as tall as he was. The rickety porch

boards squeaked under her weight.

"I can tell just by looking at you that you've come a

long ways to do your shopping. Except for the Crancularni-

ans, most of my customers travel far to buy from me,

some by means most devious. Some I sell to, others I do

not." She turned and pointed toward a thin scrawl on a

worn piece of wood that was nailed over the doorway. The

sign said:

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE     255

WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYTHING

"It's not for ourselves that we come seeking your

help," Jon-Tom told her. "We're here at the behest of a

great wizard who lives in the forest of the Bellwoods, far

across the Glittergeist Sea. His name's Clothahump."

"Clothahump." Eyes squinted in reflection behind the

granny glasses. She put out a hand, palm facing down-

ward, and positioned it some four feet above the porch.

"Turtle, old gentleman, about yea high?"

Jon-Tom nodded vigorously. "That's him. You've met

him?"

"Nope. But I know of him by reputation. As wizard's

go, he's up near the top." This revelation impressed even

the skeptical Mudge, who'd always thought of Ciothahump

as no better than a talented fakir verging on senility who

just happened to get lucky once in a while. "What's

wrong with him?"

Jon-Tom fumbled with the vial around his neck, removed

the small piece of paper from within. "He says he's dying,

and he's in terrible pain. He says this can cure him."

Snooth took the fragment, adjusted her glasses, and read.

Her lips moved as she digested the paper's information. "Yes,

yes...I believe I have this in stock." She glanced back at

Jen-Tom. "Your devotion to your mentor does you credit."

Which made him feel more than a little guilty, since the

main reason he'd undertaken the journey was to protect his

only chance of returning home by ensuring Clothahump's

continued good health.

"You overpraise my altruism."

"I think not." She stared at him in the most peculiar

fashion. "You are better than you give yourself credit for.

That is why you would make a good adjudicator. Your

good instincts outweigh your common sense."

For the second time since arriving at the store Jon-Tom's

eyes widened. "How did you know that I was studying to

be a lawyer?"

256

Alan Dean Foster

"Lucky guess," said Snooth absently, dismissing the

matter despite Jon-Tom's desire to pursue it further. She

held out the paper with the formula written on it. "May I

hold on to this?"

Jon-Tom shrugged. "Why not? It's the medicine we

need."

Snooth tucked the paper neatly into her pouch. Again

Jon-Tom thought he saw something moving about within.

If Snooth was carrying a joey, it was evidently either too

immature or too shy to show itself.

"Come on in." She turned and pushed wide the door.

Her visitors mounted the steps and crossed the porch.

The front room of the building was furnished in simple

kaleidoscopic style. To one side was another rocking chair,

only instead of being fashioned of wood it was composed

of transparent soap bubbles clinging to a thin metal frame.

The bubbles were moving in slow motion and looked fragile

and ready to burst.

"Surely you don't sit in that?" Roseroar said.

"Wouldn't be much use for anything else. Like to try

it?"

"Ah couldn't," the tigress protested. "Ah'd bust it as

well as mah tail end."

-   "Maybe not," said the kangaroo with quiet confidence.

Reluctantly, Roseroar accepted the challenge, turning to

set herself gently into the chair. The soap bubbles gave

under her weight but did not break, nor did the thin metal

frame. And the bubbles kept moving, massaging the chair's

new occupant with a gentle sliding motion. A rich throbbing

purr filled the room.

"How much?" Roseroar inquired.

"Sorry. That's a demo model. Not for sale."

"Come on, Roseroar," Jon-Tom told her. "That's not

what we came for." She abandoned the caressing chair

sadly.

As they crossed the room, Jon-Tom had time to notice a

circular recording device, a heatless stove, and a number

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

257

of utterly alien machines scattered among the familiar.

Snooth led them through another doorway barred by opaque

ceramic strips that hung in midair and into a back store

room filled with broken, jumbled goods. A bathroom was

visible off to the left.

A second suspended curtain admitted them to the store.

Jon-Tom's brain went blank. He heard Roseroar hiss

next to him and even the always voluble Mudge was at a

loss for words. Drom inhaled sharply in surprise.

As near as they could tell, the shop filled the whole

inside of the mountain.

XV

Ahead of them was an aisle flanked by long metal shelves.

The multiple shelving rose halfway to the forty-foot-high

ceiling and was crammed with boxed, crated, and clear-

packaged goods. Jon-Tom saw only a few empty slots. The

shelving and the aisle between ran away into the distance

until all three seemed to meet at some distant vanishing

point.

He turned and stared to his left. Shelves and aisles

marched off into the distance as far as he could see. He

looked right and saw a mirror image of the view on his left.