"I know of him," the dust devil hummed. "We dwell in neighboring realms and are much alike in that we are neither evil nor good, but much maligned by men."
"Can you get him here? He's an expert in air conditioning! If anybody can save me, he can!"
"I shall try," the dust devil said, and whirled faster and faster until it had flung itself to bits, disappearing.
I stared. That was going home? Then I realized what I had asked for, and waited in dread. Maxwell's Demon was a gimmick James Clerk Maxwell had dreamed up, in an attempt to get around Newton's laws of thermodynamics. Being from the never-never land of scientists' whimsy, he wouldn't be either good or bad - he'd be an impersonal force. So he wouldn't be one that could be ordered around - and might decide not to help me. In fact, there was no guarantee he would be here; he came if he wanted to, and didn't if he didn't.
Maybe I hadn't made the situation clear. I tried again.
I wasn't sure about the "eftsoons" part; after all, Maxwell had invented his Demon in the nineteenth century, but the air split with the sound of gunshot, and the Demon was there, a point of unbearably intense light, with the dust devil rising from the sand again behind it. The Demon was singing and humming, "What have we here? What other mortal knows of me in this universe of magic? "
"The name's Saul," I said, with my most ingratiating smile. Then the implications of the spark's remark hit me like a ton of books.
"Other mortal?"
Aye. I have a friend who knows my name, though he learned of it in another realm within the curves of time and space." I forced myself not to ask; first things first, and right now, survival was kind of the top priority. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to lend a hand to another know-it-all, would you?"
"Mayhap," the Demon hummed, "if it strikes me as amusing. Know, mortal, that the bane of existence of immortals is tedium. If you can offer me respite in the form of some unusual event, I shall be quite pleased to intervene on your behalf, What diversion can you offer me?"
"How about saving my life?"
"I have saved mortals before." The Demon seemed irritated.
"What is new in the fashion in which you would have me save you?" I began to realize that I was really dealing with an embodiment of physical principles - impersonal, like a computer, and therefore needing explicit instructions that it would follow to the letter. Unlike a computer, though, it wanted to be amused.
I would have to be very careful of what I said.
"I specialize in paradoxes," I told the Demon. "You might have fun watching."
"Paradox?" The Demon sounded interested. "In what fashion?"
"Well, for openers, I contradict myself every five minutes, especially since I came to this universe. Not my own idea, by the way."
"I doubt it not." The Demon's hum deepened to a lower pitch. "In what manner do you contradict yourself?"
"I'm bound and determined not to be committed, you see - not to a woman, not to an idea, not even to myself, if I can help it - but especially not to good or evil."
"Amazing," the Demon murmured. "How have you endured more than thirty seconds in this universe in which all action stems from either good or evil, from God or Satan?"
"By pure dumb luck, I guess, until I found out what was going on. But as soon as an emissary from each side had tried to recruit me, I dug my heels in and turned mule-headed. I was bound and determined not to be a tool for either one - so every time I accidentally did something a little bit good, I tried to follow it with something a little bit bad."
" 'Tis a set of poles, not a continuum," the Demon corrected me in an abstracted tone. "Indeed you live in contradiction - not in thoughts or words alone, but in deeds. Yet do you dare no more than little bits?"
Indignation hit, along with the age-old alertness that someone was trying to infringe on my identity, to twist me into his own path. "I'm me," I said, "not an extension of somebody else, natural or supernatural. I have to be me; I can't be anybody else. If I go in for big gestures, stupendous feats of nobility, I'm committing myself to good so thoroughly that I become just an extension of it. Worse, I'd have to counteract that by doing something really vile, which would mean I'd have to infringe on someone else's identity, destroy their integrity, little bits of good and evil, and that's just flat-out wrong. No, I'll do I thank you, but all I'll go for in a big way is being me."
"Excellently stated!" the Demon hummed. "You have grasped the essence of paradox!"
I had?
"I cannot allow a mind such as this to be wasted and withered," he went on. "What would you of me?"
"Shelter!" I gasped-then, afraid of seeming too eager, I tried nonchalance. "As you can see, I'm in the kind of a bind only you can save me from."
"Save?" The Demon hummed, surveying the situation. The local spirits groaned and winked out, vanishing into their boulders and sand grains.
"Kin!" the dust devil gusted. "Source and lord!"
"In some measure, mayhap," the Demon hummed, and to me, "wherefore seek you my aid? Here is one with power enough!"
"Only to make things hot," I groaned, "and my species doesn't do too well at temperatures above ninety degrees Fahrenheit."
"Aye-I had forgotten you were so fragile," the Demon answered.
"I ken not how your kind has survived so long, balanced on so fine a line of energy."
"Cultural evolution! Artificial temperature control! Technology! But the duke and his men stranded me out here without any machines, and I'm just not built for it! Please, Demon - take me some place cool! About seventy degrees Fahrenheit," I added quickly. Somehow, I didn't think I wanted to be where it was cool for the Demon.
"Someplace that is neither hot nor cool, rather," the Demon corrected me, "a barrier between heat and cold. Aye, I know of such a place. But 'tis such a realm as would drive a mortal mad." Ingrained caution welled up. "How so?"
"Why, for that 'tis a realm of paradox incarnate, where a mortal would be lost in confusion . . ." The Demon's voice trailed off, then ignited with enthusiasm. "Aye, we shall put you to the test of yourself! Do you think that you are so wholly dedicated to paradox as to withstand the confrontation of it?"
I hesitated - but he was putting me to the test of my self-image.
"If I'm not," I said, "I want to know about it." Then the counterimpulse made me say, "Besides, if I can't, you can always drop me back in the real world-preferably at some point a little less extreme in temperature.
The Demon keened with delight. "You contradict yourself indeed! Nay, let us see how you withstand the test that you yourself conceive! Come, mortal, away!"
The landscape tilted and slid-or was it I who was sliding? I didn't know, but suddenly, blessed coolness surrounded me. In fact, I shivered.
"Sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit," the Demon informed me.
"I'll get used to it," I promised, "fast. Thank you, Demon. You're a lifesaver." I looked around, and found myself in a realm of formless gray. Mist seemed to fill all the volume about me, and beyond it were only clouds. I looked down and, for all I knew, I could be sitting on another cloud. "Where are we?"
"Where you have wished to be," the Demon said, "the barrier between the cold and the hot. I looked up, startled, finally recognizing the reference.
"Welcome to my home," the Demon sang.
"Uh-thanks." I looked around, feeling kind of weird-new boy in town, and all. And a town there was; shapes were beginning to show through the mist-houses, or things that my mind was interpreting as houses; it occurred to me that I probably wasn't seeing what was really there - or, rather, that I was seeing it, or my eyes were, but my mind couldn't accept it or comprehend it, so it was giving me familiar analogs. If that was the case, then the mist would be the fog of my own confusion. One way or another, it was thinning as I began to be able to recognize forms, and I was feeling a bit better at being able to see houses - in the shapes of geometric solids, and with polygons for windows and doors, but definitely houses. And a street - though it looped about in a funny way, and I couldn't see anything supporting it. And some strange, amorphous masses of greenery that kept fluxing and flowing and changing shape, like vegetable amoebas; I figured they had to be analogous to trees and bushes.