Niall shook his head. “Not now, thank you. But I’d like to ask your opinion about that dream. Do you know about the girl we found hanging upside down in Skorbo’s larder?”
“Yes.” The Steegmaster’s ability to read thoughts meant that it was able to perceive every important event that occurred in the city.
“I dreamed about her last night. I dreamt that Simeon came and cut off her tunic with a big pair of scissors, and I saw that she had bits of brown stuff, like dead leaves, stuck to her skin. Well, when I woke up, Simeon did cut off her tunic with a pair of scissors, and she did have bits of brown stuff stuck to her skin. How can you explain that?”
“And were they dead leaves?”
“No. They were this stuff.” He bent down and picked up the flat box from under his chair. “Seaweed.”
The old man took a damp brown frond between his thumb and forefinger, and stared at it intently. Niall knew enough of the operations of the Steegmaster to know that it was being chemically analyzed.
“This is not seaweed.”
“It’s not?” Niall was astonished. “It smells like it.”
“Sea water contains a precise percentage of magnesium, sulfur, and calcium, as well as fifty-eight other elements. This contains far too much of all three, as well as a high percentage of phosphorus. That indicates that it comes from a freshwater lake with a high mineral content. It could be the crater of an extinct volcano.”
“Could it be an underground lake?”
“Impossible. Even weed requires light to grow. As you can see, this weed was not originally brown but green.” He placed his finger on a small area of weed that was, in fact, a pale green. “It has oxidized to this brown color.”
Niall stared at the brown mat of weed, whose smell filled the room.
“And that means sunlight?”
“Of course. Plants live by photosynthesis — absorbing carbon dioxide to produce sugar.”
“Have you any idea where it might have come from?”
“I cannot be specific. There are a dozen extinct volcanoes within fifty miles.” Niall recalled from his sleep-learning sessions that the approach of the comet Opik had produced many volcanic eruptions.
“And are there many lakes with that kind of high mineral content?”
“Certainly not in this region.”
“Could it be identified?”
“Unfortunately, I know of no such lake. But you must remember that most of my geological information dates back several centuries.”
Niall lifted the mat of weed, and held it up by its corners. “Why do you suppose the magician’s servants brought this with them?”
A silence of ten seconds indicated that the Steegmaster was surveying many alternatives. “Possibly it has some religious significance.”
“Religious?” This idea bewildered him.
“Or it may have been used in some kind of magical ritual.”
“What kind of ritual?”
“That is impossible to say. There was a tribe of Indians in Ecuador who wore a garment made of leaves from a sacred tree for their magical ceremonies. You observe that this mat is a human artifact.”
This also came as a surprise. Niall spread out the weed on the tabletop. Now that he examined it closely, he could see that the old man was correct. A number of pieces of weed had been woven together so skillfully that it was virtually impossible to see the joins. He held it out at arm’s length. Yet it was obviously a mat, not some kind of a garment. He sighed with exasperation as he refolded it and replaced it in the box.
“They must have had some reason for bringing it. But what could it have been?”
“I can offer no other suggestions.”
Niall looked out the window at the sunlit market scene, which was now busier than ever. “And if time travel is impossible, how did I dream of the future. Can your books on magic explain that?”
“Magical philosophy states that the mind exists outside space and time. Only the body is subject to these limitations. So when the body is asleep, the mind may be able to pass beyond space and time.”
Niall asked with excitement: “Do you think that’s true?”
The old man smiled gently. “How could I?” Niall shrugged impatiently. “I have no means of judging whether such a theory is true or not. I exist merely in space and time. You are alive, which means that you are not entirely limited by space and time. You must judge for yourself.”
Niall felt a twinge of remorse. “I’m sorry.” He stood up. “And thank you for your help.” Apologizing made him feel calmer, less frustrated.
“It is always available.” His courtesy made Niall feel even more ashamed of his impatience.
The position of the sun in the sky showed that it was about two hours after midday. As he moved from behind the table, Niall became aware of the box in his pocket. He had totally forgotten about it. “Have you any idea what this is?”
The old man took the pointed quill and held it in the palm of his hand.
“Yes. This is a primitive form of hypodermic syringe, of the kind invented in the seventeenth century.” He uncorked the bottle and sniffed its contents. After a pause he said: “And this is human blood serum containing traces of spider venom.”
Niall snapped his fingers. “Of course! I should have guessed! A serum against the poison of the death spiders. Do you think it will work?”
The old man shook his head. “There is only one way to find out — by experiment.”
“Thank you.” Niall was already halfway to the door when the old man stopped him.
“You have forgotten your lakeweed. Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“To the hospital. It’s full of people who’ve been paralyzed by spider venom.”
“In that case, they will still be there when you arrive, will they not? Remember that impatience is the worst of human failings.” But Niall was already out of the room.
As he approached the hospital, Niall saw that the main doorway was blocked by a small crowd. The hall beyond was also full of people, and a babe in arms was crying lustily. Niall made his way round to the rear entrance, and was relieved to find it deserted. The first person he saw when he stepped inside was Phelim.
“What’s happening?”
“Word got around and they’ve all come looking for relatives.”
At the far end of the corridor, three nurses were forming a human barrier to hold back the crowd, and a powerfully built woman, whom Niall recognized as the matron, was admonishing everyone to make less noise. The door of the room in which the unconscious bodies were laid out stood open. As they approached, a woman rushed out, her hands over her face, wailing noisily. Behind her, Simeon was shaking his head with angry disgust.
“Damn fool! She wants to take her husband back home. I told her he’d be better here.” He noticed Niall, and made an obvious effort to regain his equanimity. “Hello, my boy. You can see what chaos we’re in.”
Half a dozen people were wandering around among the prostrate bodies, peering anxiously into unconscious faces. One of them, a dark-haired girl in a simple yellow dress, seemed vaguely familiar.
Boyd came into the room, carrying an oblong metal container, with a large and badly worn book balanced on top of it. He was obviously pleased with himself. “Look what I’ve found.”
Phelim said resignedly: “Go on. What is it?”
“An ECT apparatus.”
Simeon said: “A what?”
“Electro-convulsive therapy. Look, here’s a piece about it.” He opened the book and handed it to Simeon, who fumbled in his pocket and took out a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, which he balanced on his nose.
Boyd watched his face anxiously as he read. “Worth trying, don’t you think?”
Simeon said nothing for several seconds, then shook his head. “No. It’s for curing depressives. And it recommends administering a light general anesthetic before use. These poor devils are already anesthetized.”
“But it might wake them up.”
“Too risky.” The experiment with the snake serum had obviously made him cautious. “Thanks anyway.”
Boyd shrugged disconsolately. As he left the room Simeon called after him: “Keep trying.”
Niall said: “I think I may have the answer.”
“To what?”
“Waking them up.” He produced the box from his pocket, and slid back the lid.
“What on earth’s that?”
“I found it in the hideout.”
Simeon stared at it through his spectacles, then held the brown bottle up to the light. “What do you suppose it is?”
“I think it’s antidote to spider venom.”
Simeon’s face brightened. He took up the quill and squeezed the bulb. “You could be right. This is obviously a crude hypodermic needle.” Two spots of red on his cheekbones were the only indication of his excitement. He turned to Phelim. “What do you think? Should we risk it?”