28
Nothing. Which I thought rather impossible, so I filled the void with something. "Let there be anything," I said.
And lo. Yuri beside me. "Consider the following events as happening in no time at all," he said.
"Hey, I'm easy," I said.
He laughed. "I've known you for only a short while, Jake, but I can say that you're one of the most remarkable individuals I've ever met."
"Everyone tells me that."
"As well they should. Shall we go?"
"Where? There doesn't seem to be anyplace to go around here. Fact is, there doesn't seem to be…" I put an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, Yuri, old buddy, listen. You're not going to tell me that you're the Ghost of Christmas Past or something, are you?"
He hesitated for a moment. "Dickens? Dickens. I'm rather weak in English literature, I'm afraid."
"Now, I've always loved Dostoevsky. I can quote you chapter and verse of The Possessed."
"I've never read him."
I was shocked. "And you call yourself educated?"
"Hardly. The universe must be protected from scientists with literary pretensions."
"Well, you've done your duty, Yuri, old pal. Now. What did you have in mind?"
"Let's walk, Jake."
"On what? I don't see- Oh." I felt a floor underneath my boots. Smooth, a little slippery, as if freshly waxed. I looked. There was a bit of a gloss to it.
We walked. As we did, I got the impression of a huge interior space surrounding us. A vast hall, dark, its features black-on-black, unseen, yet somehow felt. The roof soared kilometers above. Our footsteps echoed.
"Is this my show?" I asked.
"Partially. I like the sense of space you've conjured up."
"Big place," I said. "What is it?"
"A meeting place. Perhaps. Perhaps something more."
"I have a question."
"Go ahead."
"It's rather mundane. It's about portals. Do they create more than one aperture?"
"Oh, are you referring to the one you're in the process of shooting?"
"As a matter of fact…"
"Yes, there usually is more than one. A cylinder array creates a whole host of distorted spacetime effects. Most of the secondary apertures are not penetrable. Not usable. That's been known for some time. The research hasn't had much circulation among the general public, of course. As you know, the Colonial Authority censors all scientific publications. The secondary effects are rather difficult to see if you don't know exactly what to look for."
"Oh. Thanks."
I saw something in the distance. We approached, and saw that it was Prime, or some oversized statue of him. If the latter, it spoke.
"Now we come to the conclusion," it said, its voice sounding like Prime's. The image must have been two kilometers high.
"Indeed," a voice answered, and it sounded like the Goddess.
Prime said, "Are you satisfied with the construct? Do its logical elements still offend you?"
I turned and looked. The form of the Goddess came to us from across a distance so vast that I could have reached out and touched her.
"Not so much its logic as its lack of elegance," the Goddess answered.
"What is more important, then? Elegance or actuality?"
"Both are supreme."
"There is truth in what you say. Yet I find fault in the color of your volitional thought-branching."
I leaned toward Yuri's ear. "The who and what of your which?"
"Not every concept can be rendered linguistically, I'm afraid," Yuri said in something like a whisper. "Well, not easily, anyway."
"Generally speaking, what the hell are they gabbing about?"
"You."
"Oh."
Again, Prime's voice rose in the dark hall. "Is the resolution so difficult to accept?"
"Absurdity is unpalatable."
"So is inflexibility, rigidity, and blind refusal to let the waters flow where they must." (This last was probably linguistically fudged.)
"So, too, is unregenerate profligacy. The strength that flows through our minds yields to the channels that contain it. The strongest stem bends in the wind."
I leaned and whispered, "I know what she means. The force that through the green fuse drives the flower drives my trailer truck every other weekend."
Yuri winced. "I'm sorry this isn't better. It is fairly awful, isn't it?"
"Oh, this isn't my show any more?"
"Well, not entirely. At least not the content. Perhaps…" The apparitions faded.
"So, what's it all about, Yuri?"
He laughed. "That's the question, isn't it? Perhaps it's about the universe coming to grips with itself. As for the Skyway-my own personal preoccupation-suffice it to say that in a universe of mysteries, here is one more. The Skyway didn't exist, and it was necessary to invent it. Millions of intelligent races spread throughout the universe, separated by unimaginable distances and immutable laws which rendered those distances unbridgeable. The loneliness! An impossible problem, which the Road creatures solved with science that took ten billion years to develop, a science that bent those unalterable laws to the breaking point, that-"
"Yuri," I said, "let me tell you something. I've had it with metaphysics. Totally uninterested. What I want to know is: What happened to Darla?"
"I'm sorry, Jake. I feel your grief."
I wanted to punch him. "Do you feel my anger, too?"
"Yes, of course. But…"
Yuri's face became indistinct, then came into focus again: "There is no need for either, Jake. Can you believe me?"
"What? She's okay?"
"Let me use an expression that is, I think, American in origin. `It will all come out in the wash."
"That's comforting. I'll ask again: What happened to Darla?"
"That's all I can say for now. Jake, have a little faith. A little. If you have a fault, it's that you can't believe anything."
I nodded. "I'm like that. I also pick my nose and flick the snot onto the ceiling."
"You also lack a sense of reverence."
"No, life is holy to me."
"Of course."
"Another thing. If I didn't believe that existence was totalty meaningless, I think I'd go crazy."
"That's very interesting," Yuri said. "Few people think like that."
"I do. Now, listen. I have a life to get back to-rather, a death. I was just about to cash it in when you dropped by. Now, I hate to be rude, but I really have to get back to business."
Yuri smiled cordially, offering his hand. "I wouldn't think of keeping you. Best of luck, Jake. It's been a pleasure knowing you."
I shook his hand. "Thanks, and write when you get work." I turned, walked away. But there was nowhere to go.
There was nothing at all out there.
The truck was not moving, not a centimeter, nor an inch, either. There was no sound except a faint throbbing coming through the floorboards. The engine, I guessed.
"What the hell happened?" Sam asked. "Where are we?" I turned around. "Is everybody-"
And there was Sean, of all people, sitting in Darla's seat. He grinned at me.
"We're fine," Zoya said. "A little shaken."
"Was great fear, there, for the moment," Ragna said.
Beside him, Oni nodded. "But now, okeydokey."
I couldn't take my eyes off Sean. No one else seemed to acknowledge his presence:
"Yeah," I said. "Fine. Um… good."
"You forgot me," Arthur called from the aft-cabin.
"I can't figure it out," Sam said, pushing his face against the port and trying to peer out. "I can't see a damn thing out there. Nothing."
"Are you okay, Arthur?" Arthur asked himself, and then answered with mock cheer, "Fit as a fiddle! Don't worry about me!"
I tried looking out. I could only see my reflection. I doused the lights in the cab. It didn't help. The strange stars glowing out there were only reflections of the instrument lights.