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?"
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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.