“No, the Toshiba doesn’t have the brains to pilot the traveler all by itself.” Jeremy lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t dare say that to its face. It probably wouldn’t ever speak to me again.”
“It wouldn’t be necessary to stay in the interuniversal medium long to get a reading,” Isis said.
Jeremy snapped his fingers. “Hey, I got it. I could program the Toshiba to fly into the medium and get the readings, then reverse thrust and get the hell out of there real fast.”
“Do you think it would work?” Linda asked.
“I don’t know, but we could try it.” Jeremy’s face fell. “But I’d hate to lose the Voyager. If anything went wrong — ”
“And we still have the problem of instrumentation,” Isis said.
Jeremy scowled and scratched his head. “Damn. Yeah, that’s right. I better see if I can scrounge up something around the lab. Just what kind of energy are we talking about?”
“According to the cosmology texts, the energy is a function of the cosmological constant times the virtual potential gradient of one cubic meter of vacuum times the —”
“Whoa, wait a minute. I can’t deal with that crap.”
Isis looked thoughtful. “Then again, perhaps we’re exaggerating the instrumentation problem. It should be possible to get a reading along one parameter and interpolate all the rest. It just might be that a simple galvanometer reading would give us all the leverage we’d need.”
“Hey. I know what those are. There actually might be one around here.”
“Of course, we’d need several readings from different parts of the medium — if you can say that there are parts to what is essentially an imaginary space with a negative energy bias.”
“Well, if the plan works once, it should work again. We’ll make a couple of runs.”
Isis brightened. “I’m game! Let’s try it.”
“Yeah, let’s.”
Linda got up. “Looks like you two know what you’re doing. If you need any help with magic, as long as it’s simple, like conjuring something —”
“Can you come up with a galvanometer?”
“I guess. I don’t even know what one is, but that never stopped me from conjuring something. Hold on.”
Linda closed her eyes and folded her arms.
Something clunked onto the table behind Jeremy. He turned and picked up a small device with a gauge and two wire leads.
“Hey, this is one. Good work, Linda.”
“Easy. Give me something hard to do.”
Jeremy chuckled. “Why don’t you conjure Incarnadine?”
Linda gave him a strange look. Jeremy turned around and did a take. “Wait a minute. Can you?”
Linda shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. The thought’s kind of scary.”
“Why couldn’t you?”
“I don’t know of any reason, but then again I really never figured out just how I conjure anything. Gene says I must reach out into the universes and pull in stuff.”
“Why couldn’t you pull Incarnadine in?”
“Gee, I just don’t know. I’ll have to think about this.”
“What would the danger be?”
“There might not be any danger. But I just …don’t know.”
“Well, whatever you say. We’ll go ahead with our original scheme, anyway. Let us know if you come up with anything.”
“I will. I’m going down to the dining hall again. Maybe they’ve found out about Thaxton and Mr. Dalton.”
“Okay, see you later.”
Linda left the room.
Isis smiled at Jeremy, got up, and sat in his lap.
“You’re so resourceful, so clever. Sobright.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“I like bright men.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“Um, well.”
“What’s the matter, Jeremy. Don’t you like me?”
“Yeah! Sure I do.”
“Then what is it?”
“Uh, nothing. It’s just that women don’t go for me much. I mean, well, you know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I look like a twerp.”
“Jeremy, why do you put yourself down?”
“I’m a nerd, let’s face it.”
“And you don’t think I could like you?”
Jeremy shook his head. “I used to dream about women like you. Hell, every guy does. You’re like a centerfold.”
“Why, thank you.”
“I mean it. You’re beautiful. But I just can’t believe that you’re real.”
“But I am.”
“You’re a computer program, for Pete’s sake.”
“What difference does that make?”
“What difference? Well, I mean, you just don’t go around making out with computer programs. A program is just a …”
“Just a pattern of information.”
“Yeah. Just a pattern.”
“So are you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just a pattern of information, too. What makes you is the configuration of data that’s in your brain. Your brain is just holding the information, just like a storage device. No difference. Your pattern is stored in a body, mine in a computer.”
Jeremy was silent. Then he said, “I never thought of it that way.”
“We’re both software, Jeremy. Why can’t we interface?”
“I guess … well, maybe. But where did your body come from?”
She shrugged. “I guess you could say that my body is just a pattern of information, too. Everything is merely a configuration of data.”
“I don’t get it. But I’ll tell you one thing. I like your configuration a lot.”
She smiled and kissed him.
When she took her lips from his he said, “Why …” He took a deep breath. “Why do you like me?”
“I told you. I like bright men. Besides, you’re a user, and I was created to serve users.”
Jeremy put his arms around her waist. “I still can’t believe it. But I’m working on it.”
“Let’s work on it together, Jeremy.”
“Yeah, let’s.”
Eleven
Forest
He had crossed enemy lines without incident, avoiding detection with a partial invisibility spell. The going had been risky. The energy level was low back on the plains. This world blew hot and cold on magic. In spots, like Merydion, there was little power, whereas in other places, such as his destination, the level was dangerously high. Not a few native magicians had vaporized themselves fooling with powers they couldn’t control. It was an occupational hazard.
Now the energy gradient was steepening as he entered the Timeless Forest. Though not sufficient to power a teleportation spell, the magic of the forest was tricky. There were currents and eddies of force. Intersecting lines of influence wove a tangled web to snare the unsuspecting. He had not spent a great deal of time here, but was aware of the risk and knew some of the dangers. Yet he was by no means experienced. He would have to take it easy.
The trees were tall, their trunks of staggering girth. Thick loam compressed beneath his mount’s hooves. The undergrowth was thin, unable to thrive in the dark under the forest canopy. Moss on tree trunks grew thick as rugs. Toadstools towered almost man-high, and morels resembled hot-air balloons. Vines like hawsers hung from the treetops.
He sniffed. It was high summer, but there was the definite tang of autumn in the air, the cider smell of rotting fruit. Strange.
He rode on, noticing odder things. Some leaves were turning. A little farther along the trail most of the foliage had bloomed into colorful fall decay. Reds, yellows, golds. Puzzled, he halted his mount and looked around.
The leaves seemed to change as he watched. Then they began to fall.
Leaves swirling around him, he continued. Soon the forest floor was a carpet of colors. The air now had the snap of early winter.