Universe 6 - [Anthology]

by Edited By Terry Carr

  Carol cocked an amazed eyebrow at David, who shrugged. “Dr. Divine,” he said.

  “The teledream treatment.”

  “You’ve heard of him?” he asked, surprised.

  “Hasn’t everyone?”

  Again Melody interrupted. “Dr. Divine shot us both full of wild, wild dope. And hypnosis. You wouldn’t believe his eyes. They were like—like big black swimming pools. And his —yipe.”

  Garth had bitten her nipple off.

  David, shrugging apologetically, went on: “Some old story. Pure fiction. Where does he get them? I was the Pope and Melody—”

  “A wild robot.” Escaping Garth, she had risen above the table, where she drifted, hands flashing excitedly. “I was really him—the robot—and he wasn’t even a real person. We fought sword duels and rode donkeys and you couldn’t tell it wasn’t real life.”

  “And you, David?” Carol asked. “You were involved in this too?”

  “Yes,” he said defensively.

  “And was it the way Melody describes?” She made no effort to keep the sarcasm from creeping into her tone. “Was it marvelous? Fantastic? Was it utterly real?”

  “It was,” David said, “an absolute bore.”

  “Of course.” Carol giggled.

  “And”—getting up his nerve—”and you, Carol? What did you do last year?”

  “Dr. Divine.”

  “The same?” He allowed himself a brief, relieved smile, though not yet triumphant. “How was it? Which story did you live?”

  Carol turned away, distracted. Following her gaze, David caught sight of Garth and Melody taking the tumble slide through the ice-crystal clouds above. A hollow gong; the crystals dissolved into a rain of acrid fire.

  “Story? Did you say story? David, David.” Reaching out, she patted his hand tenderly. “That was ages ago when they were doing stories. It’s people now—real people. Dr. Divine transmits your soul into another body. Garth and I were—can you fashion it?—a San Francisco streetcleaner and his mistress. Oh.” She rocked in her chair, nearly laughing. “It was tremendously amusing.”

  Tilting forward, shoving her hand aside, he cried: “You mean to say you liked it?”

  She laughed in high, shrill, stuttering giggles. “Oh, God, David, how could I? Streetcleaning—oh, oh, oh.” She giggled on. “It was a dreadful bore.”

  “I see.” He drew back. Above, Melody, losing her balance, toppled down toward the tabletop. The brittle plastic shattered easily. Drinks, food, candlesticks—everything flew into the orange cloud forming for the next slide. The table collapsed. Gratefully, David sank to his knees in the soft carpet and stayed there.

  * * * *

  “It’s nearly twelve,” Carol announced when the new table arrived. “We’d better vault.” She fluttered immediately into the air, calling back to David, “See you there.”

  Gulping his drink, Garth hurried after her.

  “Now what?” Melody asked, wide-eyed.

  David shook his head, remembering how Dr. Divine had assured him that the teledream treatment was a secret process. The filthy liar. “We vault.”

  “To where? Where now?”

  “Chicago,” he said, staggering to his feet.

  She bounced up to join him. “Why there?”

  “Because it’s eleven o’clock there.” Together they were passing through the crowd. “Then, in an hour, we go to Denver. Then San Francisco. Anchorage. Honolulu. And so on.”

  “That’s marvelous. How long can it last?”

  “As long as you want it,” he said glumly. They had reached the vaulting booths. He spied Garth’s hairy flanks disappearing inside one sealed cage. But a long line stretched ahead of him and Melody.

  “And then what?” she said.

  “Then you go home.”

  “Home?”

  “Yes.” He added, pleasantly, “With Garth.”

  “No!” Her terror was genuine. “Me—with him?”

  “Oh, he’s as tender as a lamb,” David assured her. “As gentle as a child.”

  “But what—?”

  “About me?” David said, substituting his own question for her unspoken one. “Well, I’ll tell you.” Her vulgarity, after all, deserved some reward. Why should he suffer alone? “I’m going to take Carol home with me. It’s a tradition with us— an old family tradition.”

  * * * *

  “I’ve really been looking forward to tonight,” Melody confessed as she and David passed through the thick, shifting mob of the memorial ballroom. “Last year was fun.”

  “You enjoyed it?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Does that mean you enjoyed Garth?” He smiled pleasantly at her.

  “Oh”—she looked deliberately away—”frap you.”

  He laughed. The size of the crowd here tonight depressed him. The Castle Orion had become increasingly common as its popularity grew. Some of the people he saw here tonight were incredible in their base coarseness. Compared to them, Melody might be elected to serve as a symbol of elegant sophistication. “Float up and see if they’re here,” he told her, but as soon as he spoke he spotted Carol and Garth seated at a table in the private section of the room. Swiftly he and Melody slid into the chairs reserved for them.

  “Happy, happy, happy,” Carol said, meeting his lips.

  A moment later Melody darted off, murmuring something. Garth polarized himself into two fundamental colors and blended instantly with the dank, humid jungle that was forming around their table. A panther snarled. David saw the cat eyes gleaming beneath the folds of a wet elephant-ear leaf. The fern trembled and he saw that it was Garth, seeking Melody.

  “Some things never seem to change,” Carol said.

  “You must mean Melody.”

  “No better?”

  He shrugged. “I think she’s hopeless.”

  “Oh, David.” Carol grabbed his hand, pressing fervently. “You have to keep trying. Otherwise, what’s the use? Live each moment of your life to its fullest. Never do anything twice because there isn’t enough time to do it all once. I know I told you last year—I sense a real core of seriousness below all that vulgar veneer.”

  “I remember,” he lied.

  “But—tell me—what have you been doing this year?”

  It had come too quickly for him. He took a deep sour breath, hoping she failed to detect the depth of his anxiety. A water sphere burst nearby and Melody dropped beside him. Her presence served only to deepen his fear.

  “Dr. Divine—” Melody suddenly began.

  David couldn’t help himself. Her words— He struck her viciously across the face. A white spot formed on her cheek. A scarlet trickle of blood ran from her nose. “Oh, David,” she said, burying her face in the white tablecloth.

  “For Christ’s sake, quit whimpering,” he said.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Carol said.

  He waved at Melody “She already did. Dr. Divine. But”— he tried to inject a note of confidence into his voice—”it was different.”

  “How so? Real people?”

  “Oh, that was last year. This year we were—” He paused for effect.

  “Monsters,” Melody concluded, holding her bleeding nose between two fingers.

  “She means aliens,” he added quickly.

  “Oh, really?” Carol said. “And how was that?”

  “Interesting,” he said, choosing his language with care. “The soul is transported across space. We spent a few months on a dust planet. A real place, too. We read the expeditionary report first.”

  “It was fun?” Carol asked coldly.

  “Yes,” Melody said. She breathed out, spattering her face with tiny droplets of blood that quickly turned brown. She ignored it, but her chin trembled. “So—so different.”

  “I see,” Carol said.

  “It was a bore,” David said. “Awful.” He affected a weary laugh. “Slithering through the hot sand like worms. Ugh.”

  ‘Then,” said Carol, “you mis
sed the real excitement last year.”

  “I did?” David said.

  “Oh, yes. Haven’t you heard? The starlanes are finally open, really open. Garth and I had seats on the first flight. Quaint places, I can hardly recall the names. Oh, Sirius—a big star. The light hurts your eyes. Some had aliens like yours. Interesting, yes . . . but, well, stupid.”

  “Some alien races are quite intelligent,” Melody said.

  “Are they?” Carol said. “If you want, you might be able to get reservations. See for yourself.”

  “Not this year,” David said.

  “Oh, David,” Melody cried. “Couldn’t we?”

  * * * *

  “David,” said Melody, sighing peevishly, “why won’t you tell her? I think it’s mean of you to make her wait.” Melody’s hands glowed brightly. She was wearing a pair of electronically enhanced gloves—a rage only slightly out of fashion—and they had so far proven useful in keeping Garth at a distance. Presently he writhed on the floor, clutching his genitals with both hands. “It was a marvelous time we had. Don’t be ashamed.”

  “I loathe this place,” David said, concentrating upon Carol to the exclusion of all else. “Next year, we go somewhere else.”

  “That’s next year,” Carol said. “I want to know what you did last year.”

  “Oh, please tell her,” said Melody.

  “We took a spaceride,” he said.

  “Oh,” Carol said, plainly disappointed. “You mean the stars.”

  He nodded.

  “Garth and I did that too.” She waved a hand. “Ages ago, of course.”

  “We didn’t really go to the stars,” he said.

  “You were lying to me?”

  “No, not really. We went through the stars—not to them. We went—”

  “To where there is nothing,” Melody said, her voice filled with awe.

  His glare silenced her. “To the edge of the universe,” he explained. “Where there is nothing. The stars got redder and redder. There were galaxies going by. Everything was older and fainter. Murkey. They told us we were approaching the edge of the observable universe, out beyond where men can see—”

  “Why can’t you see farther?” Carol said.

  “Something, I didn’t catch it. Some jargon, you know. We left a week after last birthday—it takes that long. We arrived home two days ago.”

  “It was unbelievable,” Melody said. “Utterly.”

  “It was nothing,” David said. “Utterly.” He laughed. “But isn’t that the whole point? The edge of the universe—nothing. The trip was interesting, though the service was poor, the food crude, the robots sloppy. The actual arrival was a monstrous letdown. What can you do with nothing?”

  “It was scary,” Melody said, shivering.

  David nodded, as if agreeing, then reached over and touched the control that powered her gloves. Immediately, the light went out. In response, Garth bounced off the floor. He growled and sprang at Melody. Shrieking, she danced away. Garth flew after her.

  David, smiling sourly, continued: “Nothing.”

  But Carol was no longer listening. “We had a vaguely interesting time ourselves. But we’re through with space. Now it’s time instead.”

  “Time?”

  “Travel. Haven’t you heard? Dr. Proteus in Rio. Oh”—her smooth face wrinkled in anxious thought—”I just can’t remember where. Or when. The past is like a lunar landscape. All craters look the same. Wars, plagues, assassinations, earthquakes, scandals, floods. Who cares? Dr. Proteus wanted to send us to old America but I said no to that. I think we went somewhere in France. It was just what I expected. Peasants gathering faggots, and who needs that?”

  “Yes,” David said.

  “But I am beginning to worry about you. David, I want you to tell me the truth. Is it”—she lowered her voice to a confidential whisper—”her? Does she force you?”

  “What?” He didn’t understand.

  “Is it her who makes you take all these absurd trips?”

  “No,” David said dully. He stood up, scanning the room. “Melody never forces me to do anything.”

  * * * *

  The four of them sat around a small, stained wooden table. Between them, untouched, sat four mugs of dark, odiferous beer. The room was barely occupied. A shabby trio clustered near a table in one shadowed corner. The air held the flat, oily memory of yesterday’s fried food. The bartender held his post at a crude barswell. Behind the bar, fastened to a cloudy mirror, a sign said: we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.

  Reading the words aloud, Carol giggled. “Do you suppose,” she asked, “they mean us?”

  David blushed. “I thought it would be a change.”

  “Oh, it is.” She turned her head slowly, as if dazzled by the atmosphere. “It is.”

  “I mean—”

  “Six months ago it would have been all right. But, David, these places are too blatantly quaint. They never were able to catch on.”

  “It is nice,” Melody said. “Sort of serene. Even Garth is quiet.”

  “That,” Carol said, “is because he’s falling asleep—from boredom.”

  “I was sick of the Castle Orion,” David said. “I couldn’t stand that place another year.”

  “Oh, they’ve improved it,” Carol said. “Finally. It’s much more exclusive now. The ax fell last month. Why, David”— she laughed gaily—”I’m not even sure you could get in now.”

  “Don’t say that. Just—just shut up.” He pouted, turning sullen.

  Carol patted his hand. “Oh, oh, oh,” she said softly. “But” —she smiled—”no matter. In an hour, Chicago. Before then, though, I want to know what you did last year.”

  “Dr.—”

  “Not Divine?”

  He shook his head. “Proteus.”

  “Oh, him,” Carol said, covering her lips. “Garth, you remember. When was it we—?”

  David hurried on: “We went all the way back.”

  “Cave men?”

  “Before that.”

  “Dinosaurs?” ’

  “Before that.”

  “Well, when?”

  “Past the edge of time. To the dawn of creation. We saw the earth being born.”

  “It was—” Melody began, but, catching a glimpse of David, she fell silent.

  “Well,” said Carol, “tell me. How was it?”

  “Gas,” David said, recollecting slowly. “Swirling mists. Everything a dull red, like embers. Interesting—in an intellectual way—but—”

  She sighed. “It was the same with Garth and me. We died.”

  “What?” cried Melody. “You died? Do tell us.”

  “Yes,” David said painfully, “do.”

  “A new technique. Dr. Divine. You die—and it isn’t pretty —he guarantees that—what a morbid imagination—and then you are revived. How many times did we die, Garth? Eight? Nine?”

  “And was it interesting?” David said, his tone almost ugly. “Did you have a simply lovely time?”

  Carol ignored his mood. “Being reborn was rather fun,” she said, “but dying—” She made an ugly face. “It’s something I could’ve lived without.” She laughed joyously and David swallowed a fierce gulp of beer. Suddenly, swiveling in her chair, Carol threw her arms around Melody’s bare shoulders and kissed her lips. “Oh, Melody,” she cried, jumping up. “You and David are my two favorite people. Hurry, hurry.” She tugged Melody with her. “We don’t want to be late.”

  * * * *

  “I can’t see them,” Melody said flatly.

  “They’re here,” David said.

  “I still don’t see them.” They stood side by side upon the memorial-ballroom floor of the Castle Orion. Gazing around —his view distinctly limited—David was appalled. The room was densely packed. The customers seemed lower than any he remembered from the past.

  “Let’s find our table,” he said. “They may be there.”

  “All right.” She shrugged. “If you insi
st.”

  He stopped and glared. “What do you mean by that? What do you think we should do? Just turn around? Go straight home?”