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the middle of it.
Gene began, Of all the
Fore!
A small white ball thumped into the turf a few feet from Gene, hit his right
arm, and bounded away to roll into the expansive sand trap in front of the
green.
Ow, Gene complained, rubbing his arm. What the hell?
Moments later Thaxton, whom Gene recognized from the dining hall, came running
over a rise a few yards down the fairway. He looked peeved.
I say, he shouted, would you mind awfully getting out of the bloody way?
Sorry, Gene told him.
If you hadn t been standing there, I d be putting for an eagle. Now I m in a
bloody hazard! Blast it all.
Thaxton stalked by and gave Gene a grouchy look.
Excu-u-u-se me, Gene said, and backed away toward his companions.
Thaxton waited off to one side of the green. Another ball shot over the rise,
arching down to hit the lip of the trap. It bounced cleanly, lobbed onto the
green, rolled, bounded off the pin and came to rest a few feet from the cup.
Oh, bloody hell! Thaxton despaired. Of all the bleeding luck! Grumbling,
he sat down on the edge of the
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A few moments later Cleve Dalton came sauntering over the rise.
Hello there!
He came down to where Gene and company were standing.
Sorry to interrupt your game, Gene told him.
Oh, don t worry about it, Dalton said amiably. I heard Thaxton giving you a
hard time. Don t pay him any mind.
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Mind telling me what a golf course is doing in the middle of the Jurassic?
Is that what this is? Dalton smiled. I didn t know.
Well, it s close. We were hoping that this is one of the more stable
aspects.
It is. Very stable at least it has been for the three years I ve been a
Guest.
Good. Then we can get back to the castle.
Easily, as long as you don t wander too far.
Fine. Now, about this course &
Nobody I know remembers when it was put in, Dalton said. It s maintained by
castle servants, though, so I
imagine Incarnadine had it built for the delectation of his Guests.
Hmm. No kidding.
Rather glad he did, myself. Golf s one of my passions. He crossed his
ankles, put the head of his seven-iron at his feet and leaned on the shaft.
In addition to good books and straight gin. The latter is my one vice.
Where the devil is that lummox of a caddy? Thaxton griped. Oh, to hell with
it.
He stood up, trudged over to the ball and addressed it.
It s like the bloody Sudan here, he muttered. You have to be bloody Chinese
Gordon to play this course!
His trap shot hit the lip of the bunker and bounced back into the sand. A bout
of potent cursing ensued.
There s a lady present, Dalton told him.
Eh? Thaxton looked, Linda s gender hitting him. Oh. Frightfully sorry. Do
forgive me.
Oh, that s all right, Linda called.
It is a difficult course, Dalton conceded. Impossible to find a ball in the
rough.
Yeah, Gene said. Is there anything else here besides the golf course?
No, except for a small clubhouse. Mostly lockers and things. It does have a
bar, however.
Hm. No civilization, then. Rats.
Well, I wouldn t exactly say no civilization.&
There you are, you great bumbling twit! Thaxton shouted to the strange
figure coming over the rise. I need my wedgie chop-chop!
Linda s hand shot up to cover her mouth.
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The caddy, a green, seven-foot-tall saurian beast resembling a kangaroo, broke
into a loping run. Spindly forelegs struggling with two golf bags and a
plastic cooler, it ambled down the grade, dropped one of the bags, back-
tracked and bent to pick it up, and in so doing, emptied the other bag of its
clubs.
Oh, for God s sake.
After some effort and a few more mishaps, the caddy finally arrived at the
green, dumped its burdens, fetched one of the bags back up, and frantically
rummaged through it.
Thaxton looked on, scowling. Losing patience, he barked, The wedgie, the
wedgie! No, no, no, not that one, for
God s sake. Yes, that one. Yes! Can t you bloody hear? Right, now give it to
me.
Is that thing intelligent? Gene asked in wonder.
Not bloody likely, Thaxton answered, striking out into the endless wastes of
the sand trap.
I mean, is it sentient? Gene amended.
Oh, yes, very, Dalton said. This one s not the best of the caddies, but he
tries. They all belong to a local tribe.
Tribe? Wow.
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Dalton turned to the beast and said, Lummox, old boy, could I trouble you for
a drink?
Lummox nodded and opened the cooler, which was filled with bottles and other
containers nesting in shaved ice.
He withdrew a small plastic pitcher, opened the spout on the cover, took out a
long-stemmed frosted glass and filled it. Gene and Linda were amazed at how
humanlike and dexterous the hands were. Bearing the glass and moving his huge
feet carefully, Lummox walked over to where Dalton stood, but stopped just
short.
His face, generally saurian but capable of much expression, suddenly developed
a guilty look.
O-live! Lummox wailed apologetically.
Never mind, old boy, Dalton said mildly. Give it here.
Damn! Thaxton s shot had wound up a goodly distance from the cup; the ball
hugged the edge of the green.
It ll be a good twenty feet for a bogey! Damn! He trudged out of the sand.
Damn, damn, damn!
Well, Gene said, sighing. I guess there s not much use in us staying here.
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Unless you re in the mood for golf, Linda. How bout you, Snowclaw?
Snowclaw snorted.
You know, he s kind of cute, Linda said, walking up to Lummox. The caddy
gave her a shy smile and scurried back to the cooler.
Yeah, really, Gene said. He turned to Dalton. What would you suggest we
do?
Dalton sipped at his drink. I ll say one thing for Lummox he makes a damn
good martini. I m sorry, what did you say? What should you do? Why, anything
you want. You re young there s a very good aspect just down from the Queen s
dining hall. You might try that if you like white-water rafting. There are
some good guides available.
White-water & ? No, what I meant was, what s the best way to go about finding
a way out of the castle?
Dalton was appalled. Why in the world would you want to do that? There s
absolutely nothing out there.
No, I mean a way back to our world.
Oh, that. Well, if I were you I d disabuse myself of that notion in short
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