[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Another school of larger fish swam lazily across the road in front of them. A
family of little round heads atop bodiless legs scrambled into a protective
gully. Frank thought he could hear them bleating as the motor home went past.
Whether benign or malevolent, at least every reality line they'd visited thus
far had exhibited the familiar constants like air, gravity, and internal
logic. It was the same in Pass Regulus as it had been in Hades or at the
Conjunction. Now they found themselves on a line somewhere between reality and
chaos, where the simplest laws of nature appeared to have been repealed.
"What kinda place is this?" Steven's face was screwed into an
expression of distaste and puzzlement.
"I am sure I don't know." Mouse was as intrigued as any of them.
"Maybe we'll get through it quickly." Alicia glanced hopefully at her husband,
found no reassurance there. Unable to come up with any explanations for his
own questions, he had none to spare for her.
They drove past a grove of upside-down trees. These balanced themselves on
delicate branches, their roots hanging in the air like the hair of an old
woman. They grew among rocky outcrops that drifted above grass, which in turn
grew half an inch above the soil. A flock of raucous birds erupted from the
ground beneath one tree, assembled briefly on its roots, then dove beak-first
back into the earth.
"Too weird," Wendy muttered.
The engine chose that moment to sputter and miss. The motor home shuddered.
Then the electronic ignition refired and they lurched forward.
Frank found he was sweating. If the engine died here they might never get it
going again. In a place like this, where natural law seemed to be on a
permanent vacation, a familiar internal combustion device might decide to
start putting out ice cubes instead of heat. The word for this reality line
was subversive.
"I've never been anyplace like this," Mouse was saying.
"I've never imagined anyplace like it." He kept resolutely to the pavement.
A tapping at his window brought his head around sharply. Three large angelfish
drifted just beyond the glass, keeping pace without visible effort.
He checked the speedometer, which read sixty. The fish in front was black with
yellow stripes, while its companions were orange and white. The leader was
tapping on the glass with a fin. Frank hesitated, then cracked the window a
few inches. The fish drifted up to the gap.
"Pardon me," it said in perfect English, "but I don't think I've seen you here
before." Its fins rippled smoothly as it swam alongside.
"We're just passing through." After all they'd experienced, it seemed almost
normal to be conversing with a fish. If this variety fell in the water, he
wondered, would it drown? "We're on the right road, ain't we?"
"You're on the only road," the fish assured him. Silver-dollar-sized eyes
pressed curiously against the glass.
Page 127
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Peculiar creatures," opined one of the orange swimmers. "Strange habitat.
Could we come inside? Just for a quick visit. We won't stay long."
"I don't know." Frank glanced back at Burnfingers.
"Some of my best friends are fish," came the reply. "Fishy, anyway."
Why the hell not? Frank wondered. He rolled the window down all the way.
Given their speed, the entering fish should have been accompanied by a stiff
breeze, but there was no wind at all. They came in wiggling their fins.
They poked curiously at everything and everyone, but they couldn't do any harm
because they had no hands.
"A nice shape," one of the orange visitors decided. "Next week it might be
different, but right now it's a nice shape."
"We're very big on streamlining, you know," its companion declared.
"It's hard to be both elegant and streamlined."
"A machine," the other announced with satisfaction. It was poking at the stove
like a bottom feeder hunting for worms. "We haven't seen machines in
-- actually I can't remember the last time I saw a machine. Or if I ever did."
"It's nice to have visitors," said the first. "We don't get many. This isn't a
very busy road."
"I can see why," said Frank fervently. "You might arrive looking like one [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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Another school of larger fish swam lazily across the road in front of them. A
family of little round heads atop bodiless legs scrambled into a protective
gully. Frank thought he could hear them bleating as the motor home went past.
Whether benign or malevolent, at least every reality line they'd visited thus
far had exhibited the familiar constants like air, gravity, and internal
logic. It was the same in Pass Regulus as it had been in Hades or at the
Conjunction. Now they found themselves on a line somewhere between reality and
chaos, where the simplest laws of nature appeared to have been repealed.
"What kinda place is this?" Steven's face was screwed into an
expression of distaste and puzzlement.
"I am sure I don't know." Mouse was as intrigued as any of them.
"Maybe we'll get through it quickly." Alicia glanced hopefully at her husband,
found no reassurance there. Unable to come up with any explanations for his
own questions, he had none to spare for her.
They drove past a grove of upside-down trees. These balanced themselves on
delicate branches, their roots hanging in the air like the hair of an old
woman. They grew among rocky outcrops that drifted above grass, which in turn
grew half an inch above the soil. A flock of raucous birds erupted from the
ground beneath one tree, assembled briefly on its roots, then dove beak-first
back into the earth.
"Too weird," Wendy muttered.
The engine chose that moment to sputter and miss. The motor home shuddered.
Then the electronic ignition refired and they lurched forward.
Frank found he was sweating. If the engine died here they might never get it
going again. In a place like this, where natural law seemed to be on a
permanent vacation, a familiar internal combustion device might decide to
start putting out ice cubes instead of heat. The word for this reality line
was subversive.
"I've never been anyplace like this," Mouse was saying.
"I've never imagined anyplace like it." He kept resolutely to the pavement.
A tapping at his window brought his head around sharply. Three large angelfish
drifted just beyond the glass, keeping pace without visible effort.
He checked the speedometer, which read sixty. The fish in front was black with
yellow stripes, while its companions were orange and white. The leader was
tapping on the glass with a fin. Frank hesitated, then cracked the window a
few inches. The fish drifted up to the gap.
"Pardon me," it said in perfect English, "but I don't think I've seen you here
before." Its fins rippled smoothly as it swam alongside.
"We're just passing through." After all they'd experienced, it seemed almost
normal to be conversing with a fish. If this variety fell in the water, he
wondered, would it drown? "We're on the right road, ain't we?"
"You're on the only road," the fish assured him. Silver-dollar-sized eyes
pressed curiously against the glass.
Page 127
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Peculiar creatures," opined one of the orange swimmers. "Strange habitat.
Could we come inside? Just for a quick visit. We won't stay long."
"I don't know." Frank glanced back at Burnfingers.
"Some of my best friends are fish," came the reply. "Fishy, anyway."
Why the hell not? Frank wondered. He rolled the window down all the way.
Given their speed, the entering fish should have been accompanied by a stiff
breeze, but there was no wind at all. They came in wiggling their fins.
They poked curiously at everything and everyone, but they couldn't do any harm
because they had no hands.
"A nice shape," one of the orange visitors decided. "Next week it might be
different, but right now it's a nice shape."
"We're very big on streamlining, you know," its companion declared.
"It's hard to be both elegant and streamlined."
"A machine," the other announced with satisfaction. It was poking at the stove
like a bottom feeder hunting for worms. "We haven't seen machines in
-- actually I can't remember the last time I saw a machine. Or if I ever did."
"It's nice to have visitors," said the first. "We don't get many. This isn't a
very busy road."
"I can see why," said Frank fervently. "You might arrive looking like one [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]