The Tarn of Eternity - Part 46
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Part 46

He was adding a slight touch of gray to Demo's hair.

Cronus, to those not knowing, has time as his domain. Even the G.o.ds respond to his wiles, and age even as you and I.

And Cronus was gently aging Demo.

Cronus hiccuped.

He had taken a liking to the boy since they had met on an earlier task imposed by Zeus on Demo. So Cronus had not acted in spite. It was only that Cronus is the master of time, and when he hiccuped he inadvertently sent Demo flying into a time far removed. Even this would hardly have been a problem, for Cronus could easily have returned him. But, as only one way exists for a project to go right, and many ways for it to go wrong, this project went wrong.

Cronus was distracted by his wife. He quickly followed her to adjust a timepiece that kept erratic time. "My dear, it really isn't the sundial that's at fault. It's the sun. It refuses to travel at a constant rate. I've talked to Zeus. Unfortunately, It's low on his priority list."

Then Cronus went off to his study, and his hobby of clock collecting. Demo was, for the moment, forgotten. In his study Cronus maintained clocks of every size, every design, every motif. Electronic clocks, grandfather clocks, wall clocks, floor clocks, round clocks, square clocks - even clocks that kept time. But no two displayed exactly the same time. For, you see, time isn't at all the same. Here it has one value, there another, and elsewhere still a third. But, most a.s.suredly, one of the numerous clocks ticked the right time. Only Cronus knew which one.

"Which studio you with? They shooting here today?"

Demo looked quizzically at his interrogator. Since becoming Zeus' prot?g? he found that languages were no problem. All the same, always there were references, words, and phrases of which he had no ken.

"I know not of studios, and the next shooting is at the great fair, a full moon away. There I shall surely prove champion of all of Greece, perhaps of all the civilized world."

"Ah-ha! Your advertising a coming film, right. The Great Fair.

Well, I'll try to take it in. Your doing good, pal. I'll tell you, though, that costume really needs some work."

The stranger smiled and walked away.

Demo frowned.

No city of Greece was this. Gra.s.s grew not, and chariots dashed madly, teamless, down streets of solid rock, The people wore clothing of strange design, talked in a weird dialect, and gazed at him in benign amus.e.m.e.nt. The buildings were as none he had ever seen. They, too, were made of stone or even metal, and their height gave challenge to proud Olympus.

Suddenly he noted, pa.s.sing high overhead, a dragon of strange construction, growling deeply as it pa.s.sed. Pa.s.sersby gave it no heed. Plainly the monster had already fed, was returning to its lair for rest.

A chariot smashed into the side of another, and high-pitched screams as of the wild geese filled the air. The chariots lined up, one behind the other, all emitting similar shrills.

Something here is akilter, he thought.

He noted men being disgorged by the shrilling chariots, shouting each to the other and making aggressive motions with closed fists.

Then arrived chariots with fires of red and blue flashing upon their heads, screaming like night creatures in tales he had been told.

These in turn disgorged men adorned in blue cloth, with shining metal decorations on their chests. These men in turned carried sticks, and screamed and shouted at those who had gone before.

In due time the horseless chariots moved away, the ma.s.s chasing in single file the leader. And endless sequence followed madly after the leading chariot. Was this a race, or a new form of war?

Along the pathway a bench attracted his attention, and he sat down, took dried venison from his poke. A young man, perhaps his own age, approached.

"Hey, got a dollar? I'd like to borrow a dollar for a while."

"What, pray, is a dollar?"

The youth stared at him for a moment. "All right, forget it!

Whatcha eatin'? What's in th' poke?" He gestured toward Demo's pouch.

"Food, good food. Would you care for some tasty viands?"

"Vines? Did you say vines? That ain't vines you're eatin'.

Looks like meat to me. You got any more?"

"Yes, try it. You'll find it quite tasty. My mother dried it under the sun, salted it herself."

The suppliant tasted the dried venison, looked at Demo in disbelief. "h.e.l.l, I'm going to the Salvation Army. You really eat this stuff!"

A large horseless chariot pulled up alongside him. A woman starred at him through some strange, clear material. She smiled, then laughed. He looked around to see what caused her laughter.

Nothing untoward met his sight. Ill-dressed heathens strolled aimlessly, it seemed, along the wide pathway. No, there was nothing amusing to be seen.

Frowning, he continued to eat his dried venison. Two men dismounted from the chariot, and it drove away, moaning in a disquieting manner.

Inside the pa.s.sengers were looking at him through the viewing s.p.a.ce in the rear.

Perhaps it is my garb. Here they dress strangely.

"Hare Krishna?"

One of the pa.s.sengers who had descended addressed him.

"No, Demo."

"That's a new one. Is it Indian?"

"I don't think so. Greek."

"Greek? Well, new ones are popping up all over. Here, just to show you I'm open-minded, I'll donate a couple of bucks. Good luck."

The man walked off, murmuring, "Demo, and Greek! L A is the place, I'll tell you!"

He approached a large building. It had openings through which he could see, but could not enter. However, watching the strange people he noted an entrance that resembled a whirligig. My, he thought, how many years since I played with a whirligig. Anyway, as people went in and out, the door rotated.

Finally, he entered the building.

A boy stood in front of a silver recess, leaned down, and a gush of water rose, striking him on the mouth. Only then did Demo realize he was thirsty. When the boy moved Demo approached the recess, leaned down.

Demo frowned. Nothing had happened.

He leaned forward again. A man looked at him, "Hey, it ain't broke again, is it?" The man pressed the b.u.t.ton and a stream of water struck Demo's face. He sputtered, then drank thirstily.