Bearing an Hourglass by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page A

holders, to be taken physically. The account of Gawain would be debited. Norton, of course, couldn’t order; he had no account. In the vernacular of the day, he was of no account.
    Orlene also saw a popular book that looked interesting, so she touched its holo too; in a moment it was printed for her on the machine’s supply of paper. It was a historical novel, set in the fascinating time when people believed in neither magic nor science, so had wretched lives. She put the book in her purse.
    They sat on a bench, licking their cones in nominal fashion, and watched the people passing by. Orlene called out the brightnesses of each one. The problem, she explained, was that any person’s suitability as a partner varied greatly, depending on whom he was partnered with. Thus she could get several readings with different matchups.
    Norton was intrigued, but remained uncertain whether the glows she perceived were really magic or only imagination. He wanted to verify some cases, but did not feel right about walking up to strangers and asking how their interpersonal relations were. Orlene surely perceived the glows—but just how accurate were they?
    Then the proof came, abruptly. Orlene called out an older couple, walking hand in hand, evidently still much attached to each other. They were well dressed and handsome for their age. Yet Orlene called out a striking difference in their glows. The woman’s glow was strong; she was almost perfect for the man. But his glow was absent. In fact, it was negative: a dark shadow. “He’s completely wrong for her!” Orlene whispered.
    “I can’t believe that,” Norton protested. “Look how well they relate to each other! Even if he has a mistress on the side, he’s got to be good for this woman. She’s well cared for and contented.”
    “The glow is absent,” Orlene insisted. “He’s
bad
for her!”
    “That just doesn’t make sense!”
    Then they had to be quiet, for the couple was approaching. In fact, they sat down nearby on the bench. Norton wrestled with himself, trying to decide whether to speak to them, to try to resolve the discrepancy.
    “Just a little tired,” the man was saying.
    “Yes, of course,” the woman agreed.
    Then the man fell off the bench.
    Norton jumped up to help him, for he knew something about emergency aid. But he realized as he saw the man’s staring face that he was dead. “Resuscitation unit!” Norton snapped, and a machine burst out of the nearest wall and rolled over to attend to the man.
    It took the machine only a moment to confirm Norton’s diagnosis. “Unit failure—beyond repair,” it clicked.
    The ambulance unit came and loaded the body aboard, taking also the shocked widow. It was all accomplished so swiftly and neatly that many shoppers never realized anything had happened—which was, of course, the point. People did not like shopping where death occurred, with good reason; sometimes vengeful ghosts remained.
    “Oh, that’s so horrible!” Orlene said shudderingly. “Must we stay here?”
    “Of course not.” They walked to the moving belt.
    But as they were carried back toward the apartment, Norton realized that the glow had been confirmed. The man had been a poor partner for the woman, not because of any failure of resources or personality or loyalty, but because he was not going to be with her very long and, in fact, had been about to bring her crushing grief. Thus the glow, instead of being absent, was black. The glow had known—before the fact.
    He had to accept the glow; it was legitimate magic. That meant he had to accept its verdict on him: he was right for Orlene. But what, then, of his dream? That suggested he was wrong for her—perhaps in the fashion of the man they had just seen die. Which was he to believe?
    “Your glow is wavering,” Orlene murmured. “Are you thinking of leaving me?”
    Norton started guiltily. “I don’t know what is right.”
    She held his arm tightly. “Oh, please, Norton! I