pricked the tip of my left index finger with the sliver of unicorn’s horn I carry in my lapel to warn against poisons and let one fat drop of blood fall into the dark interior of the well. The oracle made a really disgusting satisfied sound, and I winced despite myself.
“All right, you old ham,” I said. “You’ve had your payment, now answer the question. What do I have to do to stop the soulbomber?”
“There’s nothing you can do. The soulbomb will detonate some forty-one minutes from now.”
I blinked a few times. “That’s it?”
“Afraid so. There isn’t a single possible future where the soulbomb doesn’t detonate.”
“No way of avoiding it?”
“None at all.”
“Can’t I try talking to him?”
“If you like.”
“Will that help?”
“No. Doesn’t matter what you do or say: Mr. Soulbomber, he go boom.”
“Well, you’re a lot of use!”
“Lot of people say that to me ...”
“All right,” I said, searching desperately for some solid ground. “Let’s try something else. What can you tell me about Excalibur?”
“You mean that appallingly powerful thing hanging off your back? Burning so brightly I can’t even look at it? Well, to start with, it’s not really a sword. It only looks like one.”
“What is it, then?”
“Reply cloudy, try again later. I told you, it’s so potent I can’t even get a good look at it. You could cut the world in half with a weapon like that.”
“I thought you said it isn’t a sword?” I said.
“It isn’t. It’s much more than a sword. More than a weapon. It’s the lever you turn to move the world.”
“Can you tell me why it’s entered my life?”
“I see you going on a long journey ...”
“If you tell me I’m going to meet a tall dark stranger, I swear I will unzip right here and now and piss into you.”
“You would, too, wouldn’t you? Bully ...”
“Hold everything,” I said. “You’re predicting a journey in my future. How can I have a future if the soulbomb’s going to go off in forty-one minutes?”
“Actually, rather less than that now. But yes, I see your point.” The oracle hummed tunelessly to itself for a moment. “Look, your whole existence is so unlikely it gives me a pain in the rear I haven’t got just thinking about it. It’s hard to be sure about anything where you’re concerned.”
“Because my mother was a Biblical Myth?”
“That doesn’t help, certainly. But it’s more that you’re involved in so many vital, important, and earth-shaking things, that every decision you make changes not only your life but everyone else’s as well.”
“It’s the destiny thing, isn’t it?” I said.
“See that sacred-looking guy over there, with the nervous twitch, trying to comfort Fate? That’s Destiny, that is.”
“Whatever happened to free will?”
“I do have an answer to that,” said the well smugly, “but it would make your head explode. I could tell you a lengthy but complex parable if you like.”
“Would it help?”
“Not really.”
“But you are completely certain that the soulbomb is going to explode?”
“Oh yes. In thirty-nine minutes.”
“I hate you.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
I ran through the rest of the corridors to be sure of reaching the soulbomber in time. The oracle is shifty, crafty, and absolutely glories in being spitefully obtuse; but it’s never wrong. My only hope was that it had seen some kind of future for me afterwards. Otherwise, I’d have said, Sod this for a lark , and legged it for the nearest exit. There had to be something I could do. Contain the explosion, perhaps, using the mall’s shields? Throw the soulbomber through one of the dimensional doorways? I told myself I’d think of something, and tried very hard to believe it. After all, I wouldn’t lie to me about something like that.
I found him sitting quite casually on the floor, in the very centre of the mall. A balding, dumpy, middle-aged man in
“All right, you old ham,” I said. “You’ve had your payment, now answer the question. What do I have to do to stop the soulbomber?”
“There’s nothing you can do. The soulbomb will detonate some forty-one minutes from now.”
I blinked a few times. “That’s it?”
“Afraid so. There isn’t a single possible future where the soulbomb doesn’t detonate.”
“No way of avoiding it?”
“None at all.”
“Can’t I try talking to him?”
“If you like.”
“Will that help?”
“No. Doesn’t matter what you do or say: Mr. Soulbomber, he go boom.”
“Well, you’re a lot of use!”
“Lot of people say that to me ...”
“All right,” I said, searching desperately for some solid ground. “Let’s try something else. What can you tell me about Excalibur?”
“You mean that appallingly powerful thing hanging off your back? Burning so brightly I can’t even look at it? Well, to start with, it’s not really a sword. It only looks like one.”
“What is it, then?”
“Reply cloudy, try again later. I told you, it’s so potent I can’t even get a good look at it. You could cut the world in half with a weapon like that.”
“I thought you said it isn’t a sword?” I said.
“It isn’t. It’s much more than a sword. More than a weapon. It’s the lever you turn to move the world.”
“Can you tell me why it’s entered my life?”
“I see you going on a long journey ...”
“If you tell me I’m going to meet a tall dark stranger, I swear I will unzip right here and now and piss into you.”
“You would, too, wouldn’t you? Bully ...”
“Hold everything,” I said. “You’re predicting a journey in my future. How can I have a future if the soulbomb’s going to go off in forty-one minutes?”
“Actually, rather less than that now. But yes, I see your point.” The oracle hummed tunelessly to itself for a moment. “Look, your whole existence is so unlikely it gives me a pain in the rear I haven’t got just thinking about it. It’s hard to be sure about anything where you’re concerned.”
“Because my mother was a Biblical Myth?”
“That doesn’t help, certainly. But it’s more that you’re involved in so many vital, important, and earth-shaking things, that every decision you make changes not only your life but everyone else’s as well.”
“It’s the destiny thing, isn’t it?” I said.
“See that sacred-looking guy over there, with the nervous twitch, trying to comfort Fate? That’s Destiny, that is.”
“Whatever happened to free will?”
“I do have an answer to that,” said the well smugly, “but it would make your head explode. I could tell you a lengthy but complex parable if you like.”
“Would it help?”
“Not really.”
“But you are completely certain that the soulbomb is going to explode?”
“Oh yes. In thirty-nine minutes.”
“I hate you.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
I ran through the rest of the corridors to be sure of reaching the soulbomber in time. The oracle is shifty, crafty, and absolutely glories in being spitefully obtuse; but it’s never wrong. My only hope was that it had seen some kind of future for me afterwards. Otherwise, I’d have said, Sod this for a lark , and legged it for the nearest exit. There had to be something I could do. Contain the explosion, perhaps, using the mall’s shields? Throw the soulbomber through one of the dimensional doorways? I told myself I’d think of something, and tried very hard to believe it. After all, I wouldn’t lie to me about something like that.
I found him sitting quite casually on the floor, in the very centre of the mall. A balding, dumpy, middle-aged man in
Similar Books
