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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sky Is Falling, by Lester del Rey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sky Is Falling
+
+Author: Lester del Rey
+
+Release Date: July 6, 2006 [EBook #18768]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKY IS FALLING ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Geetu Melwani and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+      THE SKY IS FALLING
+
+            By
+       LESTER DEL REY
+
+
+[Illustration: THE SKY IS FALLING
+WHEN MEN RULED THE STARS--AND THE STARS RULED MEN!]
+
+
+
+Transcriber note: Extensive research did not uncover any
+evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+     Dave stared around the office. He went to the window and stared
+     upwards at the crazy patchwork of the sky. For all he knew, in
+     such a sky there might be cracks. In fact, as he looked, he
+     could make out a rift, and beyond that a ... hole ... a small
+     patch where there was no color, and yet the sky there was not
+     black. There were no stars there, though points of light were
+     clustered around the edges, apparently retreating.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+     THE SKY
+     IS FALLING
+
+     By
+     LESTER DEL REY
+
+     ace books
+
+     A Division of Charter Communications Inc.
+     1120 Avenue of the Americas
+     New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Copyright © 1954, 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.
+
+A shorter and earlier version of this story appeared as "No More Stars"
+under the pseudonym of Charles Satterfield in _Beyond Fantasy Fiction_
+for July, 1954
+
+_First Ace printing: January, 1973_
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+THE SKY IS FALLING
+
+
+I
+
+
+"Dave Hanson! By the power of the true name be summoned cells and
+humors, ka and id, self and--"
+
+Dave Hanson! The name came swimming through utter blackness, sucking at
+him, pulling him together out of nothingness. Then, abruptly, he was
+aware of being alive, and surprised. He sucked in on the air around him,
+and the breath burned in his lungs. He was one of the dead--there should
+be no quickening of breath within him!
+
+He caught a grip on himself, fighting the fantasies of his mind, and
+took another breath of air. This time it burned less, and he could force
+an awareness of the smells around him. But there was none of the pungent
+odor of the hospital he had expected. Instead, his nostrils were
+scorched with a noxious odor of sulfur, burned hair and cloying incense.
+
+He gagged on it. His diaphragm tautened with the sharp pain of
+long-unused muscles, and he sneezed.
+
+"A good sign," a man's voice said. "The followers have accepted and are
+leaving. Only a true being can sneeze. But unless the salamander works,
+his chances are only slight."
+
+There was a mutter of agreement from others, before an older voice broke
+in. "It takes a deeper fire than most salamanders can stir, Ser Perth.
+We might aid it with high-frequency radiation, but I distrust the
+effects on the prepsyche. If we tried a tamed succubus--"
+
+"The things are untrustworthy," the first voice answered. "And with the
+sky falling, we dare not trust one."
+
+The words blurred off in a fog of semiconsciousness and half-thoughts.
+The sky was falling? Who killed Foxy Loxy? I, said the spider, who sat
+down insider, I went boomp in the night and the bull jumped over the
+moon....
+
+"Bull," he croaked. "The bull sleeper!"
+
+"Delirious," the first voice muttered.
+
+"I mean--bull pusher!" That was wrong, too, and he tried again, forcing
+his reluctant tongue around the syllables. "Bull _dosser_!"
+
+Damn it, couldn't he even pronounce simple Engaliss?
+
+The language wasn't English, however. Nor was it Canadian French, the
+only other speech he could make any sense of. Yet he understood it--had
+even spoken it, he realized. There was nothing wrong with his command of
+whatever language it was, but there seemed to be no word for bulldozer.
+He struggled to get his eyes open.
+
+The room seemed normal enough, in spite of the odd smells. He lay on a
+high bed, surrounded by prim white walls, and there was even a chart of
+some kind at the bottom of the bedframe. He focused his eyes slowly on
+what must be the doctors and nurses there, and their faces looked back
+with the proper professional worry. But the varicolored gowns they wore
+in place of proper clothing were covered with odd designs, stars,
+crescents and things that might have been symbols for astronomy or
+chemistry.
+
+He tried to reach for his glasses to adjust them. There were no glasses!
+That hit him harder than any other discovery. He must be delirious and
+imagining the room. Dave Hanson was so nearsighted that he couldn't
+have seen the men, much less the clothing, without corrective lenses.
+
+The middle-aged man with the small mustache bent over the chart near his
+feet. "Hmm," the man said in the voice of the first speaker. "Mars
+trines Neptune. And with Scorpio so altered ... hmm. Better add two cc.
+of cortisone to the transfusion."
+
+Hanson tried to sit up, but his arms refused to bear his weight. He
+opened his mouth. A slim hand came to his lips, and he looked up into
+soothing blue eyes. The nurse's face was framed in copper-red hair. She
+had the transparent skin and classic features that occur once in a
+million times but which still keep the legend of redheaded enchantresses
+alive. "Shh," she said.
+
+He began to struggle against her hand, but she shook her head gently.
+Her other hand began a series of complicated motions that had a
+ritualistic look about them.
+
+"Shh," she repeated. "Rest. Relax and sleep, Dave Hanson, and remember
+when you were alive."
+
+There was a sharp sound from the doctor, but it began to blur out before
+Hanson could understand it. He fought to remember what he'd heard the
+nurse say--something about when he was alive--as if he'd been dead a
+long time.... He couldn't hold the thought. At a final rapid motion of
+the girl's hand his eyes closed, the smell faded from his nose and all
+sounds vanished. Once there was a stinging sensation, as if he were
+receiving the transfusion. Then he was alone in his mind with his
+memories--mostly of the last day when he'd still been alive. He seemed
+to be reliving the events, rethinking the thoughts he'd had then.
+
+It began with the sight of his uncle's face leering at him. Uncle David
+Arnold Hanson looked like every man's dream of himself and every woman's
+dreams of manliness. But at the moment, to Dave, he looked more like a
+personal demon. His head was tilted back and nasty laughter was booming
+through the air of the little office.
+
+"So your girl writes that your little farewell activity didn't fare so
+well, eh?" he chortled. "And you come crawling here to tell me you want
+to do the honorable thing, is that it? All right, my beloved nephew,
+you'll do the honorable thing! You'll stick to your contract with me."
+
+"But--" Dave began.
+
+"But if you don't, you'd better read it again. You don't get one cent
+except on completion of your year with me. That's what it says, and
+that's what happens." He paused, letting the fact that he meant it sink
+in. He was enjoying the whole business, and in no hurry to end it. "And
+I happen to know, Dave, that you don't even have fare to Saskatchewan
+left. You quit and I'll see you never get another job. I promised my
+sister I'd make a man of you and, by jumping Jupiter, I intend to do
+just that. And in my book, that doesn't mean you run back with your tail
+between your legs just because some silly young girl pulls that old
+chestnut on you. Why, when I was your age, I already had...."
+
+Dave wasn't listening any longer. In futile anger, he'd swung out of the
+office and gone stumbling back toward the computer building. Then, in a
+further burst of anger, he swung off the trail. To hell with his work
+and blast his uncle! He'd go on into town, and he'd--he'd do whatever he
+pleased.
+
+The worst part of it was that Uncle David could make good on his threat
+of seeing that Dave got no more work anywhere. David Arnold Hanson was a
+power to reckon with. No other man on Earth could have persuaded anyone
+to let him try his scheme of building a great deflection wall across
+northern Canada to change the weather patterns. And no other man could
+have accomplished the impossible task, even after twelve countries
+pooled their resources to give him the job. But he was doing it, and it
+was already beginning to work. Dave had noticed that the last winter in
+Chicago had definitely shown that Uncle David's predictions were coming
+true.
+
+Like most of the world, Dave had regarded the big man who was his uncle
+with something close to worship. He'd jumped at the chance to work under
+Uncle David. And he'd been a fool. He'd been doing all right in Chicago.
+Repairing computers didn't pay a fortune, but it was a good living, and
+he was good at it. And there was Bertha--maybe not a movie doll, but a
+sort of pretty girl who was also a darned good cook. For a man of thirty
+who'd always been a scrawny, shy runt like the one in the "before"
+pictures, he'd been doing all right.
+
+Then came the letter from his uncle, offering him triple salary as a
+maintenance man on the computers used for the construction job. There
+was nothing said about romance and beauteous Indian maids, but Dave
+filled that in himself. He would need the money when he and Bertha got
+married, too, and all that healthy outdoor living was just what the
+doctor would have ordered.
+
+The Indian maids, of course, turned out to be a few fat old squaws who
+knew all about white men. The outdoor living developed into five months
+of rain, hail, sleet, blizzard, fog and constant freezing in tractors
+while breathing the healthy fumes of diesels. Uncle David turned out to
+be a construction genius, all right, but his interest in Dave seemed to
+lie in the fact that he was tired of being Simon Legree to strangers
+and wanted to take it out on one of his own family. And the easy job
+turned into hell when the regular computer-man couldn't take any more
+and quit, leaving Dave to do everything, including making the field
+tests to gain the needed data.
+
+Now Bertha was writing frantic letters, telling him how much he'd better
+come back and marry her immediately. And Uncle David thought it was a
+joke!
+
+Dave paid no attention to where his feet were leading him, only vaguely
+aware that he was heading down a gully below the current construction
+job. He heard the tractors and bulldozers moving along the narrow cliff
+above him, but he was used to the sound. He heard frantic yelling from
+above, too, but paid no attention to it; in any Hanson construction
+program, somebody was always yelling about something that had to be done
+day before yesterday. It wasn't until he finally became aware of his own
+name being shouted that he looked up. Then he froze in horror.
+
+The bulldozer was teetering at the edge of the cliff as he saw it, right
+above him. And the cliff was crumbling from under it, while the tread
+spun idiotically out of control. As Dave's eyes took in the whole
+situation, the cliff crumbled completely, and the dozer came lunging
+over the edge, plunging straight for him. His shout was drowned in the
+roar of the motor. He tried to force his legs to jump, but they were
+frozen in terror. The heavy mass came straight for him, its treads
+churning like great teeth reaching for him.
+
+Then it hit, squarely on top of him. Something ripped and splattered and
+blacked out in an unbearable welter of agony.
+
+Dave Hanson came awake trying to scream and thrusting at the bed with
+arms too weak to raise him. The dream of the past was already fading.
+The horror he had thought was death lay somewhere in the past.
+
+Now he was here--wherever here was.
+
+The obvious answer was that he was in a normal hospital, somehow still
+alive, being patched up. The things he seemed to remember from his other
+waking must be a mixture of fact and delirium. Besides, how was he to
+judge what was normal in extreme cases of surgery?
+
+He managed to struggle up to a sitting position in the bed, trying to
+make out more of his surroundings. But the room was dark now. As his
+eyes adjusted, he made out a small brazier there, with a cadaverous old
+man in a dark robe spotted with looped crosses. On his head was
+something like a miter, carrying a coiled brass snake in front of it.
+The old man's white goatee bobbed as he mouthed something silently and
+made passes over the flame, which shot up prismatically. Clouds of white
+fire belched up.
+
+Dave reached to adjust his glasses, and found again that he wasn't
+wearing them. But he'd never seen so clearly before.
+
+At that moment, a chanting voice broke into his puzzled thoughts. It
+sounded like Ser Perth. Dave turned his head weakly. The motion set sick
+waves of nausea running through him, but he could see the doctor
+kneeling on the floor in some sort of pantomime. The words of the chant
+were meaningless.
+
+A hand closed over Dave's eyes, and the voice of the nurse whispered in
+his ear. "Shh, Dave Hanson. It's the Sather Karf, so don't interrupt.
+There may be a conjunction."
+
+He fell back, panting, his heart fluttering. Whatever was going on, he
+was in no shape to interrupt anything. But he knew that this was no
+delirium. He didn't have that kind of imagination.
+
+The chant changed, after a long moment of silence. Dave's heart had
+picked up speed, but now it missed again, and he felt cold. He shivered.
+Hell or heaven weren't like this, either. It was like something out of
+some picture--something about Cagliostro, the ancient mystic. But he was
+sure the language he somehow spoke wasn't an ancient one. It had words
+for electron, penicillin and calculus, for he found them in his own
+mind.
+
+The chant picked up again, and now the brazier flamed a dull red,
+showing the Sather Karf's face changing from some kind of disappointment
+to a businesslike steadiness. The red glow grew white in the center, and
+a fat, worm-like shape of flame came into being. The old man picked it
+up in his hand, petted it and carried it toward Dave. It flowed toward
+his chest.
+
+He pulled himself back, but Ser Perth and the nurse leaped forward to
+hold him. The thing started to grow brighter. It shone now like a tiny
+bit of white-hot metal; but the older man touched it, and it snuggled
+down into Dave's chest, dimming its glow and somehow purring. Warmth
+seemed to flow from it into Dave. The two men watched for a moment, then
+picked up their apparatus and turned to go. The Sather Karf lifted the
+fire from the brazier in his bare hand, moved it into the air and said a
+soft word. It vanished, and the two men were also gone.
+
+"Magic!" Dave said. He'd seen such illusions created on the stage, but
+there was something different here. And there was no fakery about the
+warmth from the thing over his chest. Abruptly he remembered that he'd
+come across something like it, called a salamander, in fiction once;
+the thing was supposed to be a spirit of fire, and dangerously
+destructive.
+
+The girl nodded in the soft glow coming from Dave's chest. "Naturally,"
+she told him. "How else does one produce and control a salamander,
+except by magic? Without, magic, how can we thaw a frozen soul? Or
+didn't your world have any sciences, Dave Hanson?"
+
+Either the five months under his uncle had toughened him, or the sight
+of the bulldozer falling had knocked him beyond any strong reaction. The
+girl had practically told him he wasn't in his own world. He waited for
+some emotion, felt none, and shrugged. The action sent pain running
+through him, but he stood it somehow. The salamander ceased its purring,
+then resumed.
+
+"Where in hell am I?" he asked. "Or when?"
+
+She shook her head. "Hell? No, I don't think so. Some say it's Earth and
+some call it Terah, but nobody calls it Hell. It's--well, it's a
+long--time, I guess--from when you were. I don't know. In such matters,
+only the Satheri know. The Dual is closed even to the Seri. Anyhow, it's
+not your space-time, though some say it's your world."
+
+"You mean dimensional travel?" Dave asked. He'd seen something about
+that on a science-fiction television program. It made even time travel
+seem simple. At any event, however, this wasn't a hospital in any sane
+and normal section of Canada during his time, on Earth.
+
+"Something like that," she agreed doubtfully. "But go to sleep now.
+Shh." Her hands came up in complicated gestures. "Sleep and grow well."
+
+"None of that hypnotism again!" he protested.
+
+She went on making passes, but smiled on him kindly. "Don't be
+superstitious--hypnotism is silly. Now go to sleep. For me, Dave
+Hanson. I want you well and true when you awake."
+
+Against his will, his eyes closed, and his lips refused to obey his
+desire to protest. Fatigue dulled his thoughts. But for a moment, he
+went on pondering. Somebody from the future--this could never be the
+past--had somehow pulled him out just ahead of the accident, apparently;
+or else he'd been deep frozen somehow to wait for medical knowledge
+beyond that of his own time. He'd heard it might be possible to do that.
+
+It was a cockeyed future, if this were the future. Still, if scientists
+had to set up some, sort of a religious mumbo-jumbo....
+
+Sickness thickened in him, until he could feel his face wet with
+perspiration. But with it had come a paralysis that left him unable to
+move or groan. He screamed inside himself.
+
+"Poor mandrake-man," the girl said softly. "Go back to Lethe. But don't
+cross over. We need you sorely."
+
+Then he passed out again.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Whatever they had done to patch him up hadn't been very successful,
+apparently. He spent most of the time in a delirium; sometimes he was
+dead, and there was an ultimate coldness like the universe long after
+the entropy death. At other times, he was wandering into fantasies that
+were all horrible. And at all times, even in unconsciousness, he seemed
+to be fighting desperately to keep from falling apart painfully within
+himself.
+
+When he was awake, the girl was always beside him. He learned that her
+name was Nema. Usually there was also the stout figure of Ser Perth.
+Sometimes he saw Sather Karf or some other older man working with
+strange equipment, or with things that looked like familiar hypodermics
+and medical equipment. Once they had an iron lung around him and there
+was a thin wisp over his face.
+
+He started to brush it aside, but Nema's hand restrained him. "Don't
+disturb the sylph," she ordered.
+
+Another semirational period occurred during some excitement or danger
+that centered around him. He was still half delirious, but he could see
+men working frantically to build a net of something around his bed,
+while a wet, thick thing flopped and drooled beyond the door, apparently
+immune to the attacks of the hospital staff. There were shouting orders
+involving the undine. The salamander in Dave's chest crept deeper and
+seemed to bleat at each cry of the monstrous thing beyond the door.
+
+Sather Karf sat hunched over what seemed to be a bowl of water, paying
+no attention to the struggle. Something that he seemed to see there held
+his attention. Then he screamed suddenly.
+
+"The Sons of the Egg. It's their sending!"
+
+He reached for a brazier beside him, caught up the fire and plunged it
+deep into the bowl of water, screaming something. There was the sound of
+an explosion from far away as he drew his hands out, unwet by the water.
+Abruptly the undine began a slow retreat. In Dave's chest, the
+salamander began purring again, and he drifted back into his coma.
+
+He tried to ask Nema about it later when she was feeding him, but she
+brushed it aside.
+
+"An orderly let out the news that you are here," she said. "But don't
+worry. We've sent out a doppelganger to fool the Sons, and the orderly
+has been sentenced to slavery under the pyramid builder for twenty
+lifetimes. I hate my brother! How dare he fight us with the sky
+falling?"
+
+Later, the delirium seemed to pass completely, but Dave took no comfort
+from that. In its place came a feeling of gloom and apathy. He slept
+most of the time, as if not daring to use his little strength even to
+think.
+
+Ser Perth stayed near him most of the time now. The man was obviously
+worried, but tried not to show it. "We've managed to get some
+testosterone from a blond homunculus," he reported. "That should put you
+on your feet in no time. Don't worry, young man we'll keep you vivified
+somehow until the Sign changes." But he didn't sound convincing.
+
+"Everyone is chanting for you," Nema told him. "All over the world, the
+chants go up."
+
+It meant nothing to him, but it sounded friendly. A whole world hoping
+for him to get well! He cheered up a bit at that until he found out that
+the chants were compulsory, and had nothing to do with goodwill.
+
+The iron lung was back the next time he came to, and he was being tugged
+toward it. He noticed this time that there was no sylph, and his
+breathing seemed to be no worse than usual. But the sight of the two
+orderlies and the man in medical uniform beside the lung reassured him.
+Whatever their methods, he was convinced that they were doing their best
+for him here.
+
+He tried to help them get him into the lung, and one of the men nodded
+encouragingly. But Dave was too weak to give much assistance. He glanced
+about for Nema, but she was out on one of her infrequent other duties.
+He sighed, wishing desperately that she were with him. She was a lot
+more proficient than the orderlies.
+
+The man in medical robe turned toward him sharply. "Stop that!" he
+ordered.
+
+Before Dave could ask what he was to stop, Nema came rushing into the
+room. Her face paled as she saw the three men, and she gasped, throwing
+up her hand in a protective gesture.
+
+The two orderlies jumped for her, one grabbing her and the other closing
+his hands over her mouth. She struggled violently, but the men were too
+strong for her.
+
+The man in doctor's robes shoved the iron lung aside violently and
+reached into his clothing. From it, he drew a strange, double-bladed
+knife. He swung toward Dave, raising the knife into striking position
+and aiming it at Dave's heart.
+
+"The Egg breaks," he intoned hollowly. It was a cultured voice, and
+there was a refinement to his face that registered on Dave's mind even
+over the horror of the weapon. "The fools cannot hold the shell. But
+neither shall they delay its breaking. Dead you were, mandrake son, and
+dead you shall be again. But since the fault is only theirs, may no ill
+dreams follow you beyond Lethe!"
+
+The knife started down, just as Nema managed to break free. She shrieked
+out a phrase of keening command. The salamander suddenly broke from
+Dave's chest, glowing brighter as it rose toward the face of the
+attacker. It was like a bit from the center of a star. The man jumped
+back, beginning a frantic ritual. He was too late. The salamander hit
+him, sank into him and shone through him. Then he slumped, steamed ...
+and was nothing but dust falling toward the carpet. The salamander
+turned, heading toward the others. But it was to Nema it went, rather
+than the two men. She was trying something desperately, but fear was
+thick on her face, and her hands were unsure.
+
+Abruptly, Sather Karf was in the doorway. His hand lifted, his fingers
+dancing. Words hissed from his lips in a stream of sibilants too quick
+for Dave to catch. The salamander paused and began to shrink doubtfully.
+Sather Karf turned, and again his hands writhed in the air. One hand
+darted back and forward, as if he were throwing something. Again he made
+the gesture. With each throw, one of the false orderlies dropped to the
+floor, clutching at a neck where the skin showed marks of constriction
+as if a steel cord were tightening. They died slowly, their eyes bulging
+and faces turning blue. Now the salamander moved toward them, directed
+apparently by slight motions from Sather Karf. In a few moments, there
+was no sign of them.
+
+The old man sighed, his face slumping into lines of fatigue and age. He
+caught his breath. He held out a hand to the salamander, petted it to a
+gentle glow and put it back over Dave's chest.
+
+"Good work, Nema," he said wearily. "You're too weak to control the
+salamander, but this was done well in the emergency. I saw them in the
+pool, but I was almost too late. The damned fanatics. Superstition in
+this day and age!"
+
+He swung to face Dave, whose vocal cords were still taut with the shock
+of the sight of the knife. "Don't worry, Dave Hanson. From now on, every
+Ser and Sather will protect you with the lower and the upper magic. The
+House changes tomorrow, if the sky permits, and we shall shield you
+until then. We didn't bring you back from the dead, piecing your
+scattered atoms together with your scattered revenant particle by
+particle, to have you killed again. Somehow, we'll incarnate you fully!
+You have my word for that."
+
+"Dead?" Dave had grown numbed to his past during the long illness, but
+that brought it back afresh. "Then I was killed? I wasn't just frozen
+and brought here by some time machine?"
+
+Sather Karf stared at him blankly. "Time machine? Impossible. Of course
+not. After the tractor killed you, and you were buried, what good would
+such fantasies be, even if they existed? No, we simply reincarnated you
+by pooling our magic. Though it was a hazardous and parlous thing, with
+the sky falling...."
+
+He sighed and went out, while Dave went back to his delirium.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+There was no delirium when he awoke in the morning. Instead, there was
+only a feeling of buoyant health. In fact, Dave Hanson had never felt
+that good in his life--or his former life. He reconsidered his belief
+that there was no delirium, wondering if the feeling were not itself a
+form of hallucination. But it was too genuine. He knew without question
+that he was well.
+
+It shouldn't have been true. During the night, he'd partially awakened
+in agony to find Nema chanting and gesturing desperately beside him, and
+he'd been sure he was on the verge of his second death. He could
+remember one moment, just before midnight, when she had stopped and
+seemed to give up hope. Then she'd braced herself and begun some ritual
+as if she were afraid to try it. Beyond that, he had no memory of pain.
+
+Nema came into the room now, touching his shoulder gently. She smiled
+and nodded at him. "Good morning, Sagittarian. Get out of bed."
+
+Expecting the worst, he swung his feet over the side and sat up. After
+so much time in bed, even a well man should be rendered weak and shaky.
+But there was no dizziness, no sign of weakness. He had made a most
+remarkable recovery, and Nema didn't even seem surprised. He tentatively
+touched foot to floor and half stood, propping himself against the high
+bed.
+
+"Come on," Nema said impatiently. "You're all right now. We entered your
+sign during the night." She turned her back on him and took something
+from a chest beside the bed. "Ser Perth will be here in a moment. He'll
+want to find you on your feet and dressed."
+
+Hanson was beginning to feel annoyance at the suddenly cocksure and
+unsympathetic girl, but he stood fully erect and flexed his muscles.
+There wasn't even a trace of bedsoreness, though he had been flat on his
+back long enough to grow callouses. And as he examined himself, he could
+find no scars or signs of injuries from the impact of the bulldozer--if
+there had ever really been a bulldozer.
+
+He grimaced at his own doubts. "Where am I, anyhow, Nema?"
+
+The girl dumped an armload of clothing on his bed and looked at him with
+controlled exasperation. "Dave Hanson," she told him, "don't you know
+any other words? That's the millionth time you've asked me that, at
+least. And for the hundredth time, I'll tell you that you're here. Look
+around you; see for yourself. I'm tired of playing nursemaid to you."
+She picked up a shirt of heavy-duty khaki from the pile on the bed and
+handed it to him. "Get into this," she ordered. "Dress first, talk
+later."
+
+She stalked out of the room.
+
+Dave did as she had ordered, busy with his own thoughts as he discovered
+what he was to wear. He was still wearing something with a vague
+resemblance to a short hospital gown, with green pentacles and some
+plant symbol woven into it, and with a clasp to hold it together shaped
+into a silver crux ansata. He took it off and hurled it into a corner
+disgustedly.
+
+He picked up the khaki shirt and put it on; then, with growing
+curiosity, the rest of the garments, until he came to the shoes. Khaki
+shirt, khaki breeches, a wide, webbed belt, a flat-brimmed hat. And the
+shoes--they weren't shoes, but knee-length leather boots, like a dressy
+version of lumberman's boots or a rougher version of riding boots. He
+hadn't seen even pictures of such things since the few silent movies run
+in some of the little art theaters. He struggled to get them on. They
+were an excellent fit, and comfortable enough, but he felt as if his
+legs were encased in hardened concrete when he was through. He looked
+down at himself in disgust. He was in all respects costumed as the
+epitome of the Hollywood dream of a heroic engineer-builder, ready to
+drive a canal through an isthmus or throw a dam across a raging
+river--the kind who'd build the dam while the river raged, instead of
+waiting until it was quiet, a few days later. He was about as far from
+the appearance of the actual blue-denim, leather-jacket engineers he had
+worked with as Maori in ancient battle array.
+
+He shook his head and went looking for the bathroom, where there might
+be a mirror. He found a door, but it led into a closet, filled with
+alembics and other equipment. There was a mirror hung on the back of it,
+however, with a big sign over it that said "Keep Out." He threw the door
+wide and stared at himself. At first, in spite of the costume, he was
+pleased. Then the truth began to hit him, and he felt abruptly sure he
+was still raging with fever and delirium.
+
+He was still staring when Nema came back into the room. She pursed her
+lips and shut the door quickly. But he'd already seen enough.
+
+"Never mind where I am," he said. "Tell me, _who_ am I?"
+
+She stared at him. "You're Dave Hanson."
+
+"The hell I am," he told her. "Oh, that's what I remember my father
+having me christened as. He hated long names. But take a good look at
+me. I've been shaving my face for years now, and I should know it.
+_That_ face in the mirror wasn't it! There's a resemblance. But a darned
+faint one. Change the chin, lengthen my nose, make the eyes brown
+instead of blue, and it might be me. But Dave Hanson's at least five
+inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter, too. Maybe the face is plastic
+surgery after the accident--but this isn't even my body."
+
+The girl's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Dave Hanson," she said
+gently. "We should have thought to warn you. You were a difficult
+conjuration--and even the easier ones often go wrong these days. We did
+our best, though it may be that the auspices were too strong on the
+soma. I'm sorry if you don't like the way you look. But there's nothing
+we can do about it now."
+
+Hanson opened the door again, in spite of Nema's quick frown, and looked
+at himself. "Well," he admitted, "I guess it could be worse. In fact, I
+guess it was worse--once I get used to looking like this, I think I'll
+get to like it. But seeing it was a heck of a thing to take for a sick
+man."
+
+Nema said sharply, "Are you sick?"
+
+"Well--I guess not."
+
+"Then why say you are? You shouldn't be; I told you we've entered the
+House of Sagittarius now. You can't be sick in your own sign. Don't you
+understand even that much elementary science?"
+
+Hanson didn't get a chance to answer. Ser Perth was suddenly in the
+doorway, dressed in a different type of robe. This was short and somehow
+conservative--it had a sincere, executive look about it. The man seemed
+changed in other ways, too. But Dave wasn't concerned about that. He was
+growing tired of the way people suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Maybe
+they all wore rubber-soled shoes or practiced sneaking about; it was a
+silly way for grown people to act.
+
+"Come with me, Dave Hanson," Ser Perth ordered, without wasting words.
+He spoke in a clipped manner now.
+
+Dave followed, grumbling in his mind. It was even sillier than their
+sneaking about for them to expect him to start running around before
+they bothered to check the condition of a man fresh out of his death
+bed. In any of the hospitals he had known, there would have been hours
+or days of X-rays and blood tests and temperature taking before he would
+be released. These people simply decided a man was well and ordered him
+out.
+
+To do them justice, however, he had to admit that they seemed to be
+right. He had never felt better. The twaddle about Sagittarius would
+have to be cleared up sometime, but meanwhile he was in pretty good
+shape. Sagittarius, as he remembered it, was supposed to be one of the
+signs of the Zodiac. Bertha had been something of a sucker for
+astrology and had found he was born under that sign before she agreed to
+their little good-by party. He snorted to himself. It had done her a
+heck of a lot of good, which was to be expected of such nonsense.
+
+They passed down a dim corridor and Ser Perth turned in at a door.
+Inside there was a single-chair barber shop, with a barber who might
+also have come from some movie-casting office. He had the proper wavy
+black hair and rat-tailed comb stuck into a slightly dirty off-white
+jacket. He also had the half-obsequious, half-insulting manner Dave had
+found most people expected from their barbers. While he shaved and
+trimmed Dave, he made insultingly solicitous comments about Dave's skin
+needing a massage, suggested a tonic for thinning hair and practically
+insisted on a singe. Ser Perth watched with a mixture of intentness and
+amusement. The barber trimmed the tufts from over Dave's ears and
+clipped the hair in his nose, while a tray was pushed up and a
+slatternly blonde began giving him a manicure.
+
+He began noticing that she carefully dumped his fingernail parings into
+a small jar. A few moments later, he found the barber also using a jar
+to collect the hair and shaving stubble. Ser Perth was also interested
+in that, it seemed, since his eyes followed that part of the operation.
+Dave frowned, and then relaxed. After all, this was a hospital barber
+shop, and they probably had some rigid rules about sanitation, though he
+hadn't seen much other evidence of such care.
+
+The barber finally removed the cloth with a snap and bowed. "Come again,
+sir," he said.
+
+Ser Perth stood up and motioned for Dave to follow. He turned to look in
+a mirror, and caught sight of the barber handing the bottles and jars of
+waste hair and nail clippings to a girl. He saw only her back, but it
+looked like Nema.
+
+Something stirred in his mind then. He'd read something somewhere about
+hair clippings and nail parings being used for some strange purpose. And
+there'd been something about spittle. But they hadn't collected that. Or
+had they? He'd been unconscious long enough for them to have gathered
+any amount they wanted. It all had something to do with some kind of
+mumbo-jumbo, and....
+
+Ser Perth had led him through the same door by which they'd entered--but
+_not_ into the same hallway. Dave's mind dropped the other thoughts as
+he tried to cope with the realization that this was another corridor. It
+was brightly lit, and there was a scarlet carpet on the floor. Also, it
+was a short hall, requiring only a few steps before they came to a
+bigger door, elaborately enscrolled. Ser Perth bent before it, and the
+door opened silently while he and Dave entered.
+
+The room was large and sparsely furnished. Sitting cross-legged on a
+cushion near the door was Nema, juggling something in her hands. It
+looked like a cluster of colored threads, partly woven into a rather
+garish pattern. On a raised bench between two windows sat the old figure
+of Sather Karf, resting his chin on hands that held a staff and staring
+at Dave intently.
+
+Dave stopped as the door closed behind him. Sather Karf nodded, as if
+satisfied, and Nema tied a complex knot in the threads, then paused
+silently.
+
+Sather Karf looked far less well than when Dave had last seen him. He
+seemed older and more shriveled, and there was a querulous, pinched
+expression in place of the firmness and almost nobility Dave had come to
+expect. His old eyes bored into the younger man, and he nodded. His
+voice had a faint quaver now. "All right. You're not much to look at,
+but you're the best we could find in the Ways we can reach. Come here,
+Dave Hanson."
+
+The command was still there, however petty the man seemed now. Dave
+started to phrase some protest, when he found his legs taking him
+forward to stop in front of Sather Karf, like some clockwork man whose
+lever has been pushed. He stood in front of the raised bench, noticing
+that the spot had been chosen to highlight him in the sunset light from
+the windows. He listened while the old man talked.
+
+Sather Karf began without preamble, stating things in a dry voice as if
+reading off a list of obvious facts.
+
+"You were dead, Dave Hanson. Dead, buried, and scattered by time and
+chance until even the place where you lay was forgotten. In your own
+world, you were nothing. Now you are alive, through the effort of men
+here whose work you could not even dream of. We have created you, Dave
+Hanson. Remember that, and forget the ties to any other world, since
+that world no longer holds you."
+
+Dave nodded slowly. It was hard to swallow, but there were too many
+things here that couldn't be in any world he had known. And his memory
+of dying was the clearest memory he had. "All right," he admitted. "You
+saved my life--or something. And I'll try to remember it. But if this
+isn't my world, what world is it?"
+
+"The only world, perhaps. It doesn't matter." The old man sighed, and
+for a moment the eyes were shrouded in speculation, as if he were
+following some strange by-ways of his own thoughts. Then he shrugged.
+"It's a world and culture linked to the one you knew only by theories
+that disagree with each other. And by vision--the vision of those who
+are adept enough to see through the Ways to the branches of Duality.
+Before me, there was nothing. But I've learned to open a path--a
+difficult path for one in this world--and to draw from it, as you have
+been drawn. Don't try to understand what is a mystery even to the
+Satheri, Dave Hanson."
+
+"A reasonably intelligent man should be able--" Dave began.
+
+Ser Perth cut his words off with a sharp laugh. "Maybe a man. But who
+said you were a man, Dave Hanson? Can't you even understand that? You're
+only half human. The other half is mandrake--a plant that is related to
+humanity through shapes and signs by magic. We make simulacra out of
+mandrakes--like the manicurist in the barber shop. And sometimes we use
+a mandrake root to capture the essence of a real man, in which case he's
+a mandrake-man, like you. Human? No. But a very good imitation, I must
+admit."
+
+Dave turned from Ser Perth toward Nema, but her head was bent over the
+cords she was weaving, and she avoided his eyes. He remembered now that
+she'd called him a mandrake-man before, in a tone of pity. He looked
+down at his body, sick in his mind. Vague bits of fairy tales came back
+to him, suggesting horrible things about mandrake creatures--zombie-like
+things, only outwardly human.
+
+Sather Karf seemed amused as he looked at Ser Perth. Then the old man
+dropped his eyes toward Dave, and there was a brief look of pity in
+them. "No matter, Dave Hanson," he said. "You were human, and by the
+power of your true name, you are still the same Dave Hanson. We have
+given you life as precious as your other life. Pay us for that with your
+service, and that new life will be truly precious. We need your
+services."
+
+"What do you want?" Dave asked. He couldn't fully believe what he'd
+heard, but there had been too many strange things to let him disbelieve,
+either. If they had made him a mandrake-man, then by what little he
+could remember and guess, they could make him obey them.
+
+"Look out the window--at the sky," Sather Karf ordered.
+
+Dave looked. The sunset colors were still vivid. He stepped forward and
+peered through the crystalline glass. Before him was a city, bathed in
+orange and red, towering like the skyline of a dozen cities he had
+seen--and yet; not like any. The buildings were huge and many-windowed.
+But some were straight and tall, some were squat and fairy-colored and
+others blossomed from thin stalks into impossibly bulbous, minareted
+domes, like long-stemmed tulips reproduced in stone. Haroun-al-Rashid
+might have accepted the city, but Mayor Wagner could never have believed
+in it.
+
+"Look at the sky," the old man suggested again, and there was no mockery
+in his voice now.
+
+Dave looked up obediently.
+
+The sunset colors were not sunset. The sun was bright and blinding
+overhead, surrounded by reddish clouds, glaring down on the fairy city.
+The sky was--blotchy. It was daylight, but through the clouds bright
+stars were shining. A corner of the horizon was winter blue; a whole
+sweep of it was dead, featureless black. It was a nightmare sky, an
+impossible sky. Dave's eyes bulged as he looked at it.
+
+He turned back to Sather Karf. "What--what's the matter with it?"
+
+"What indeed?" There was bitterness and fear in the old man's voice. In
+the corner of the room, Nema looked up for a moment, and there was fear
+and worry in her eyes before she looked back to her weaving of endless
+knots. Sather Karf sighed in weariness. "If I knew what was happening to
+the sky, would I be dredging the muck of Duality for the likes of you,
+Dave Hanson!"
+
+He stood up, wearily but with a certain ease and grace that belied his
+age, looking down at Dave. There was stern command in his words, but a
+hint of pleading in his expression.
+
+"The sky's falling, Dave Hanson. Your task is to put it together again.
+See that you do not fail us!"
+
+He waved dismissal and Ser Perth led Dave and Nema out.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+The corridor down which they moved this time was one that might have
+been familiar even in Dave's Chicago. There was the sound of typewriters
+from behind the doors, and the floor was covered with composition tile,
+instead of the too-lush carpets. He began to relax a little until he
+came to two attendants busily waxing the floor. One held the other by
+the ankles and pushed the creature's hairy face back and forth, while
+its hands spread the wax ahead of it. The results were excellent, but
+Dave found it hard to appreciate.
+
+Ser Perth shrugged slightly. "They're only mandrakes," he explained. He
+threw open the door of one of the offices and led them through an outer
+room toward an inner chamber, equipped with comfortable chairs and a
+desk. "Sit down, Dave Hanson. I'll fill you in on anything you need to
+know before you're assigned. Now--the Sather Karf told you what you were
+to do, of course, but--"
+
+"Wait a minute," Dave suggested. "I don't remember being told any such
+thing."
+
+Ser Perth looked at Nema, who nodded. "He distinctly said you were to
+repair the sky. I've got it down in my notes if you want to see them."
+She extended the woven cords.
+
+"Never mind," Ser Perth said. He twiddled with his mustache. "I'll recap
+a little. Dave Hanson, as you have seen, the sky is falling and must be
+repaired. You are our best hope. We know that from a prophecy, and it
+is confirmed by the fact that the fanatics of the Egg have tried several
+times to kill you. They failed, though one effort was close enough, but
+their attempts would not have been made at all if they had not been
+convinced through their arts that you can succeed with the sky."
+
+Dave shook his head. "It's nice to know you trust me!"
+
+"Knowing that you _can_ succeed," the other went on smoothly, "we know
+that you will. It is my unpleasant duty to point out to you the things
+that will happen if you fail. I say nothing of the fact that you owe us
+your life; that may be a small enough gift, and one quickly withdrawn. I
+say only that you have no escape from us. We have your name, and the
+true symbol is the thing, as you should know. We also have cuttings from
+your hair and your beard; we have the parings of your nails, five cubic
+centimeters of your spinal fluid and a scraping from your liver. We have
+your body through those, nor can you take it out of our reach. Your name
+gives us your soul." He looked at Hanson piercingly. "Shall I tell you
+what it would be like for your soul to live in the muck of a swamp in a
+mandrake root?"
+
+Dave shook his head. "I guess not. I--look, Ser Perth. I don't know what
+you're talking about. How can I go along with you when I'm in the dark?
+Start at the beginning, will you? I was killed; all right, if you say I
+was, I was. You brought me to life again with a mandrake root and
+spells; you can do anything you want with me. I admit it; right now,
+I'll admit anything you want me to, because you know what's going on and
+I don't. But what's all this business of the sky falling? If it is and
+can be falling, what's the difference? If there is a difference, why
+should I be able to do anything about it?"
+
+"Ignorance!" Ser Perth murmured to himself. He sighed heavily. "Always
+ignorance. Well, then, listen." He sat down on the corner of the desk
+and took out a cigarette. At least it looked like a cigarette. He
+snapped his fingers and lighted it from a little flame that sprang up,
+blowing clouds of bright green smoke from his mouth. The smoke hung
+lazily, drifting into vague patterns and then began to coalesce into a
+green houri without costume. He swatted at it negligently.
+
+"Dratted sylphs. There's no controlling the elementals properly any
+more." He didn't seem too displeased, however, as he watched the thing
+dance off. Then he sobered.
+
+"In your world, Dave Hanson, you were versed in the engineering
+arts--you more than most. That you should be so ignorant, though you
+were considered brilliant is a sad commentary on your world. But no
+matter. Perhaps you can at least learn quickly still. Even you must have
+had some idea of the composition of the sky?"
+
+Dave frowned as he tried to answer. "Well, I suppose the atmosphere is
+oxygen and nitrogen, mostly; then there's the ionosphere and the ozone
+layer. As I remember, the color of the sky is due to the scattering of
+light--light rays being diffracted in the air."
+
+"Beyond the air," Ser Perth said impatiently. "The sky itself!"
+
+"Oh--space. We were just getting out there with manned ships. Mostly
+vacuum, of course. Of course, we're still in the solar atmosphere, even
+there, with the Van Allen belts and such things. Then there are the
+stars, like our sun, but much more distant. The planets and the moon--"
+
+"Ignorance was bad enough," Ser Perth interrupted in amazement. He
+stared at Dave, shaking his head in disgust. "You obviously come from a
+culture of even more superstition than ignorance. Dave Hanson, the sky
+is no such thing. Put aside the myths you heard as a child. The sky is a
+solid sphere that surrounds Earth. The stars are no more like the sun
+than the glow of my cigarette is like a forest fire. They are lights on
+the inside of the sphere, moving in patterns of the Star Art, nearer to
+us than the hot lands to the south."
+
+"Fort," Dave said. "Charles Fort said that in a book."
+
+Ser Perth shrugged. "Then why make me say it again? This Fort was right.
+At least one intelligent man lived in your world, I'm pleased to know.
+The sky is a dome holding the sun, the stars and the wandering planets.
+The problem is that the dome is cracking like a great, smashed
+eggshell."
+
+"What's beyond the dome?"
+
+Ser Perth shuddered slightly. "My greatest wish is that I die before I
+learn. In your world, had you discovered that there were such things as
+elements? That is, basic substances which in combination produce--"
+
+"Of course," Dave interrupted.
+
+"Good. Then of the four elements--" Dave gulped, but kept silent, "--of
+the four elements the universe is built. Some things are composed of a
+single element; some of two, some of three. The proportions vary and the
+humors and spirits change but all things are composed of the elements.
+And only the sky is composed of all four elements--of earth, of water,
+of fire and of air--in equal proportions. One part each, lending each
+its own essential quality to the mixture, so that the sky is solid as
+earth, radiant as fire, formless as water, insubstantial as air. And the
+sky is cracking and falling, as you have seen for yourself. The effects
+are already being felt. Gamma radiation is flooding through the gaps;
+the quick-breeding viruses are mutating through half the world, faster
+than the Medical Art can control them, so that millions of us are
+sneezing and choking--and dying, too, for lack of antibiotics and proper
+care. Air travel is a perilous thing; just today, a stratosphere roc
+crashed head-on into a fragment of the sky and was killed with all its
+passengers. Worst of all, the Science of Magic suffers. Because the
+stars are fixed on the dome of the sky. With the crumbling of that dome,
+the course of the stars has been corrupted. It's pitiful magic that can
+be worked without regard to the conjunctions of the planets; but it is
+all the magic that is left to us. When Mars trines Neptune, the Medical
+Art is weak; even while we were conjuring you, the trine occurred. It
+almost cost your life. And it should not have occurred for another seven
+days."
+
+There was silence, while Ser Perth let Dave consider it. But it was too
+much to accept at once, and Dave's mind was a treadmill. He'd agreed to
+admit anything, but some of this was such complete nonsense that his
+mind rejected it automatically. Yet he was sure Ser Perth was serious;
+there was no humor on the face of the prissy thin-mustached man before
+him. Nor had the Sather Karf considered it a joke, he was sure. He had a
+sudden vision of the latter strangling two men from a distance of thirty
+feet without touching them. That couldn't happen in a sane world,
+either.
+
+Dave asked weakly, "Could I have a drink?"
+
+"With a sylph around?" Ser Perth grimaced. "You wouldn't have a chance.
+Now, is all clear to you, Dave Hanson?"
+
+"Sure. Except for one thing. What am I supposed to do?"
+
+"Repair our sky. It should not be too difficult for a man of your
+reputation. You built a wall across a continent high and strong enough
+to change the air currents and affect all your weather--and that in the
+coldest, meanest country in your world. You come down to us as one of
+the greatest engineers of history, Dave Hanson, so great that your fame
+has penetrated even to our world, through the viewing pools of our
+wisest historians. There is a shrine and monument in your world. 'Dave
+Hanson, to whom nothing was impossible.' Well, we have a nearly
+impossible task: a task of engineering and building. If our Science of
+Magic could be relied upon--but it cannot; it never can be, until the
+sky is fixed. We have the word of history: no task is impossible to Dave
+Hanson."
+
+Dave looked at the smug face and a slow grin crept over his own, in
+spite of himself. "Ser Perth, I'm afraid you've made a slight mistake."
+
+"We don't make mistakes in such matters. You're Dave Hanson," Ser Perth
+said flatly. "Of all the powers of the Science, the greatest lies in the
+true name. We evoked you by the name of Dave Hanson. You _are_ Dave
+Hanson, therefore."
+
+"Don't try to deceive us," Nema suggested. Her voice was troubled. "Pray
+rather that we never have reason to doubt you. Otherwise the wisest of
+the Satheri would spend their remaining time in planning something
+unthinkable for you."
+
+Ser Perth nodded vigorous assent. Then he motioned to the office. "Nema
+will show you to your quarters later. Use this until you leave. I have
+to report back."
+
+Dave stared after him until he was gone, and then around at the office.
+He went to the window and stared upwards at the crazy patchwork of the
+sky. For all he knew, in such a sky there might be cracks. In fact, as
+he looked, he could make out a rift, and beyond that a ... hole ... a
+small patch where there was no color, and yet the sky there was not
+black. There were no stars there, though points of light were clustered
+around the edges, apparently retreating.
+
+All he had to do was to repair the sky. Shades of Chicken Little!
+
+Maybe to David Arnold Hanson, the famed engineer, no task was
+impossible. But quite a few things were impossible to that engineer's
+obscure and unimportant nephew, the computer technician and generally
+undistinguished man who had been christened Dave. They'd gotten the
+right man for the name, all right. But the wrong man for the job.
+
+Dave Hanson could repair anything that contained electrical circuits or
+ran on tiny jeweled bearings, but he could handle almost nothing else.
+It wasn't stupidity or incapacity to learn, but simply that he had never
+been subjected to the discipline of construction engineering. Even on
+the project, while working with his uncle, he had seen little of what
+went on, and hadn't really understood that, except when it produced data
+that he could feed into his computer. He couldn't drive a nail in the
+wall to hang a picture or patch a hole in the plaster.
+
+But it seemed that he'd better put on a good show of trying if he wanted
+to continue enjoying good health.
+
+"I suppose you've got a sample of the sky that's fallen?" he asked Nema.
+"And what the heck are you doing here, anyhow? I thought you were a
+nurse."
+
+She frowned at him, but went to a corner where a small ball of some
+clear crystalline substance stood. She muttered into it, while a surly
+face stared out. Then she turned back to him, nodding. "They are sending
+some of the sky to you. As to my being a nurse, of course I am. All
+student magicians take up the Medical Art for a time. Surely one so
+skilled can also be a secretary, even to the great Dave Hanson? As to
+why I'm here--" She dropped her eyes, frowning, while a touch of added
+color reached her cheeks. "In the sleep spell I used, I invoked that you
+should be well and true. But I'm only a bachelor in magic, not even a
+master, and I slipped. I phrased it that I wanted you well and true.
+Hence, well and truly do I want you."
+
+"Huh?" He stared at her, watching the blush deepen. "You mean--?"
+
+"Take care! First you should know that I am proscribed as a duly
+registered virgin. And in this time of need, the magic of my blood must
+not be profaned." She twisted sidewise, and then turned toward the door,
+avoiding him. Before she reached it, the door opened to show a dull
+clod, entirely naked, holding up a heavy weight of nothing.
+
+"Your sample of sky," she said as the clod labored over to the desk and
+dropped nothing with a dull clank. The desk top dented slightly.
+
+Dave could clearly see that nothing was on the desk. But if nothing was
+a vacuum, this was an extremely hard and heavy one. It seemed to be
+about twelve inches on a side, in its rough shape, and must have weighed
+two hundred pounds. He tapped it, and it rang. Inside it, a tiny point
+of light danced frantically back and forth.
+
+"A star," she said sadly.
+
+"I'm going to need some place to experiment with this," he suggested. He
+expected to be sent to the deepest, dankest cave of all the world as a
+laboratory, and to find it equipped with pedigreed bats, dried unicorn
+horns and whole rows of alembics that he couldn't use.
+
+Nema smiled brightly. "Of course. We've already prepared a construction
+camp for you. You'll find most of the tools you used in your world
+waiting there and all the engineers we could get or make for you."
+
+He'd been considering stalling while he demanded exactly such things. He
+was reasonably sure by now that they had no transistors, signal
+generators, frequency meters or whatever else he could demand. He could
+make quite an issue out of the need to determine the characteristic
+impedance of their sky. That might even be interesting, at that; would
+it be anywhere near 300 ohms here? But it seemed that stalling wasn't
+going to work. They'd given him what they expected him to need, and he'd
+have to be careful to need only what they expected, or they might just
+decide he wasn't Dave Hanson.
+
+"I can't work on this stuff here," he said.
+
+"Then why didn't you say so?" she asked sharply. She let out a cry and a
+raven came flying in. She whispered something to it, frowned, and then
+ordered it off. "There's no surface transportation available, and all
+the local rocs are in use. Well, we'll have to make do with what we
+have."
+
+She darted for the outer office, rummaged in a cabinet, and came back
+with a medium-sized rug of worn but gaudy design. Bad imitation Sarouk,
+Dave guessed. She tossed it onto the largest cleared space, gobbled
+some outlandish noises, and dropped onto it, squatting near one end.
+Behind her, the dull clod picked up the sample of sky and fell to his
+face on the rug. At her vehement signal, Dave squatted down beside her,
+not daring to believe what he was beginning to guess.
+
+The carpet lifted uncertainly. It seemed to protest at the unbalanced
+weight of the sky piece. She made the sounds again, and it rose
+reluctantly, curling up at the front, like a crazy toboggan. It moved
+slowly, but with increasing speed, sailed out of the office through the
+window and began gaining altitude. They went soaring over the city at
+about thirty miles an hour, heading toward what seemed to be barren land
+beyond. "Sometimes they fail now," she told him. "But so far, only if
+the words are improperly pronounced."
+
+He gulped and looked gingerly over at the city below. As he did, she
+gasped. He heard a great tearing sound of thunder. In the sky, a small
+hole appeared. There was a scream of displaced air, and something went
+zipping downwards in front of them, setting up a wind that bounced the
+carpet about crazily. Dave glanced over the edge again to see one of the
+tall buildings crumple under the impact. The three top stories were
+ripped to shreds. Then the whole building began to change. It slowly
+blossomed into a huge cloud of pink gas that rifted away, to show people
+and objects dropping like stones to the ground below. Nema sighed and
+turned her eyes away.
+
+"But--it's ridiculous!" Dave protested. "We heard the rip and less than
+five seconds later, that piece fell. If your sky is even twenty miles
+above us, it would take longer than that to fall."
+
+"It's a thousand miles up," she told him. "And sky has no inertia until
+it is contaminated by contact with the ground. It took longer than
+usual for that piece to fall." She sighed. "It gets worse. Look at the
+signs. That break has disturbed the planets. We're moving retrograde,
+back to our previous position, out of Sagittarius! Now we'll go back to
+the character we had before--and just when I was getting used to the
+change."
+
+He jerked his eyes off the raw patch of emptiness in the sky, where a
+few stars seemed to be vanishing. "Your character? Isn't anything stable
+here?"
+
+"Of course not. Naturally, in each House we have a differing of
+character, as does the world itself. Why else should astrology be the
+greatest of the sciences?"
+
+It was a nice world, he decided. And yet the new factor explained some
+things. He'd been vaguely worried about the apparent change in Ser
+Perth, who'd turned from a serious and helpful doctor into a
+supercilious, high-handed fop. But--what about his recovery, if that was
+supposed to be determined by the signs of the zodiac?
+
+He had no time to ask. The carpet bucked, and the girl began speaking to
+it urgently. It wavered, then righted itself, to begin sliding
+downwards.
+
+"There is a ring of protection around your camp," Nema explained. "It is
+set to make entry impossible to one who does not have the words or who
+is unfriendly. The carpet could not go through that, anyway. The ring
+negates all other magic trying to pass it. And of course we have
+basilisks mounted on posts around the grounds. They're trained to hood
+their eyes, except when they sense anyone trying to enter who should
+not. You can't be turned to stone looking at one, you know--only by
+having one look at you."
+
+"You're cheering me up no end," he assured her.
+
+She smiled pleasantly and began setting the carpet down. Below, he
+could see a camp that looked much like the camps he had seen in the same
+movies from which all his clothes had been copied. There were well
+laid-out rows of sheds, beautiful lines of construction equipment and
+everything in order, as it could never be in a real camp. As he began
+walking with the girl toward a huge tent that should have belonged to a
+circus, he could see other discrepancies. The tractors were designed for
+work in mud flats and the haulers had the narrow wheels used on rocky
+ground. Nothing seemed quite as it should be. He spotted a big generator
+working busily--and then saw a gang of about fifty men, or mandrakes,
+turning a big capstan that kept it going. Here and there were neat racks
+of miscellaneous tools. Some were museum pieces. There was even a gandy
+cart, though no rails for it to run on.
+
+They were almost at the main tent when a crow flew down and yelled
+something in Nema's ear. She scowled, and nodded. "I'm needed back," she
+said. "Most of the men here--" She pointed to the gangs that moved about
+busily doing nothing, all in costumes similar to his, except for the
+boots and hat. "They're mandrakes, conjured into existence, but without
+souls. The engineers we have are snatched from Duality just after dying
+and revived here while their brains still retain their knowledge. They
+have no true souls either, of course, but they don't know it. Ah. The
+short man there--he's Garm. Sersa Garm, an apprentice to Ser Perth. He's
+to be your foreman, and he's real."
+
+She headed back to the outskirts, then turned to shout back. "Sather
+Karf says you may have ten days to fix the sky," she called. Her hand
+waved toward him in friendly good-bye. "Don't worry, Dave Hanson. I have
+faith in you."
+
+Then she was running toward her reluctant carpet.
+
+Dave stared up at the mottled dome above him and at the dull
+clod--certainly a mandrake--who was still carrying the sample. With all
+this preparation and a time limit, he couldn't even afford to stall.
+He'd never fully understood why some plastics melted and others turned
+hard when heated, but he had to find what was wrong with the dome above
+and how to fix it. And maybe the time limit could be stretched a little,
+once he came up with the answer. Maybe. He'd worry about that after he
+worried about the first steps.
+
+Sersa Garm proved to be a glum, fat young man, overly aware of his
+importance in training for serhood. He led Dave through the big tent,
+taking pride in the large drafting section--under the obvious belief
+that it was used for designing spells. Maybe it could have been useful
+for that if there had been a single man who knew anything about
+draftsmanship. There were four engineers, supposedly. One, who had died
+falling off a bridge while drunk, was curing himself of the shock by
+remaining dead drunk. One had been a chemical engineer specializing in
+making yeast and dried soya meal into breakfast cereals. Another knew
+all about dredging canals and the last one was an electronics
+engineer--a field in which Dave was far more competent.
+
+He dismissed them. Whatever had been done to them--or perhaps the
+absence of a true soul, whatever that was--left them rigidly bound to
+their past ideas and totally incapable of doing more than following
+orders by routine now. Even Sersa Garm was more useful.
+
+That young man could offer little information, however. The sky, he
+explained pompously, was a great mystery that only an adept might
+communicate to another. He meant that he didn't know about it, Dave
+gathered. Everything, it turned out, was either a mystery or a rumor.
+He also had a habit of sucking his thumb when pressed too hard for
+details.
+
+"But you must have heard some guesses about what started the cracks in
+the sky?" Dave suggested.
+
+"Oh, indeed, that is common knowledge," Sersa Garm admitted. He changed
+thumbs while he considered. "'Twas an experiment most noble, but through
+mischance going sadly awry. A great Sather made the sun remain in one
+place too long, and the heat became too great. It was like the Classic
+experiment--"
+
+"How hot is your sun?"
+
+There was a long pause. Then Sather Germ shrugged. "'Tis a great
+mystery. Suffice to say it has no true heat, but does send forth an
+activating principle against the phlogiston layer, which being excited
+grows vengeful against the air ... but you have not the training to
+understand."
+
+"Okay, so they didn't tell you, if they knew." Dave stared up at the
+sun, trying to guess. The light looked about like what he was used to,
+where the sky was still whole. North light still was like what a color
+photographer would consider 5500° Kelvin, so the sun must be pretty hot.
+Hot enough to melt anything he knew about. "What's the melting point of
+this sky material?"
+
+He never did manage to make Sather Garm understand what a melting point
+was. But he found that one of the solutions tried had been the bleeding
+of eleven certified virgins for seven days. When the blood was mixed
+with dragonfeathers and frogsdown and melded with a genuine
+philosopher's stone, they had used it to ink in the right path of the
+planets of a diagram. It had failed. The sky had cracked and a piece had
+fallen into the vessel of blood, killing a Sather who was less than two
+thousand years old.
+
+"Two thousand?" Dave asked. "How old is Sather Karf?"
+
+"None remembers truly. He has always been the Sather Karf--at least ten
+thousand years or more. To attain the art of a Sather is the work of a
+score of centuries, usually."
+
+That Sather had been in sad shape, it seemed. No one had been able to
+revive him, though bringing the dead back to life when the body was
+reasonably intact was routine magic that even a sersa could perform. It
+was after that they'd begun conjuring back to Dave's world for all the
+other experts.
+
+"All whose true names they could find, that is," Garm amended. "The
+Egyptian pyramid builder, the man who discovered your greatest science,
+dianetics, the great Cagliostro--and what a time we had finding his true
+name! I was assigned to the helping of one who had discovered the
+secrets of gravity and some strange magic which he termed
+relativity--though indeed it had little to do with kinship, but was a
+private mystery. But when he was persuaded by divers means to help us,
+he gave up after one week, declaring it beyond his powers. They were
+even planning what might best be done to chastise him when he discovered
+in some manner a book of elementary conjuration and did then devise some
+strange new formula from the elements with which magic he disappeared."
+
+It was nice to know that Einstein had given up on the problem, Dave
+thought bitterly. As nice as the discovery that there was no fuel for
+the equipment here. He spent an hour rigging up a portable saw to use in
+attempting to cut off a smaller piece of the sky, and then saw the
+motor burn out when he switched it on. It turned out that all
+electricity here was d.c., conjured up by commanding the electrons in a
+wire to move in one direction, and completely useless with a.c. motors.
+It might have been useful for welding, but there was no electric torch.
+
+"'Tis obviously not a thing of reason," Garm told him severely. "If the
+current in such a form moves first in one direction and then in the
+other, then it cancels out and is useless. No, you must be wrong."
+
+As Dave remembered it, Tesla had been plagued by similar doubts from
+such men as Edison. He gave up and settled finally for one of the native
+welding torches, filled with a dozen angry salamanders. The flame or
+whatever it was had enough heat, but it was hard to control. By the time
+he learned to use it, night had fallen, and he was too tired to try
+anything more. He ate a solitary supper and went to sleep.
+
+During the next three days he learned a few things the hard way,
+however. In spite of Garm's assurance that nothing could melt the sky,
+he found that his sample would melt slowly under the heat of the torch.
+In the liquid state, it was jet black, though it cooled back to complete
+transparency. It was also without weight when in liquid form--a fact he
+discovered when it began rising through the air and spattering over
+everything, including his bare skin. The burns were nasty, but somehow
+seemed to heal with remarkable speed. Sersa Garm was impressed by the
+discoveries, and went off to suck his thumbs and brood over the new
+knowledge, much to Dave's relief.
+
+More work established the fact that welding bits of the sky together was
+not particularly difficult. The liquid sky was perfectly willing to bond
+onto anything, including other bits of itself.
+
+Now, if he could get a gang up the thousand miles to the sky with enough
+torches to melt the cracks, it might recongeal as a perfect sphere. The
+stuff was strong, but somewhat brittle. He still had no idea of how to
+get the stars and planets back in the right places.
+
+"The mathematician thought of such an idea," Sersa Garm said sourly.
+"But 'twould never work. Even with much heat, it could not be done. For
+see you, the upper air is filled with phlogiston, which no man can
+breathe. Also, the phlogiston has negative weight, as every school child
+must know. Your liquid sky would sink through it, since negative weight
+must in truth be lighter than no weight, while nothing else would rise
+through the layer. And phlogiston will quench the flame of a rocket, as
+your expert von Braun discovered."
+
+The man was a gold mine of information, all bad. The only remaining
+solution, apparently, was to raise a scaffolding over the whole planet
+to the sky, and send up mandrakes to weld back the broken pieces. They
+wouldn't need to breathe, anyhow. With material of infinite
+strength--and an infinite supply of it--and with infinite time and
+patience, it might have been worth considering.
+
+Nema came out the next day with more cheering information. Her
+multi-times great grandfather, Sather Karf, regretted it, but he must
+have good news to release at once; the populace was starving because the
+food multipliers couldn't produce reliable supplies. Otherwise, Dave
+would find venom being transported into his blood in increasing amounts
+until the pain drove him mad. And, just incidentally, the Sons of the
+Egg who'd attacked him in the hospital had tried to reach the camp twice
+already, once by interpenetrating into a shipment of mandrakes, which
+indicated to what measures they would resort. They meant to kill him
+somehow, and the defense of him was growing too costly unless there were
+positive results.
+
+Dave hinted at having nearly reached the solution, giving her only a bit
+of his wild idea of welding the sky. She took off with that, but he was
+sure it wouldn't satisfy the Sather. In that, he was right. By
+nightfall, when she came back from the city, he was groaning in pain.
+The venom had arrived ahead of her, and his blood seemed to be on fire.
+
+She laid a cool hand on his forehead. "Poor Dave," she said. "If I were
+not registered and certified, sometimes I feel that I might ... but no
+more of that. Ser Perth sends you this unguent which will hold back the
+venom for a time, cautioning you not to reveal his softness." Ser Perth,
+it seemed, had reverted to his pre-Sagittarian character as expected.
+"And Sather Karf wants the full plans at once. He is losing patience."
+
+He began rubbing on the ointment, which helped slightly. She peeled back
+his shirt and began helping, apparently delighted with the hair which
+he'd sprouted on his chest since his reincarnation. The unguent helped,
+but it wasn't enough.
+
+"He never had any patience to lose. What the hell does he expect me to
+do?" Dave asked hotly. "Snap my fingers thus, yell _abracadabra_ and
+give him egg in his beer?"
+
+He stopped to stare at his hand, where a can of beer had suddenly
+materialized!
+
+Nema squealed in delight. "What a novel way to conjure, Dave. Let me try
+it." She began snapping her fingers and saying the word eagerly, but
+nothing happened. Finally she turned back to him. "Show me again."
+
+He was sure it wouldn't work twice, and he hesitated, not too willing to
+have his stock go down with her. Then he gave in.
+
+"_Abracadabra!_" he said, and snapped his fingers.
+
+There were results at once. This time an egg appeared in his hand, to
+the delighted cry of Nema. He bent to look at it uncertainly. It was a
+strange looking egg--more like one of the china eggs used to make hens
+think they were nesting when their eggs were still being taken from
+them.
+
+Abruptly Nema sprang back. But she was too late. The egg was growing. It
+swelled to the size of a football, then was man-sized, and growing to
+the size of a huge tank that filled most of the tent. Suddenly it split
+open along one side and a group of men in dull robes and masks came
+spilling out of it.
+
+"Die!" the one in front yelled. He lifted a double-bladed knife, charged
+for Dave, and brought the knife down.
+
+The blades went through clothing, skin, flesh and bones, straight for
+Dave's heart.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+The knife had pierced Dave's chest until the hilt pressed against his
+rib cage. He stared down at it, seeing it rise with the heaving of his
+lungs. Yet he was still alive!
+
+Then the numbness of shock wore off and the pain nerves carried their
+messages to his brain. He still lived, but there was unholy agony
+where the blade lay. Coughing and choking on what must be his own
+blood, he scrabbled at the knife and ripped it out. Blood jetted from
+the gaping rent in his clothing. It gushed forth--and slowed; it
+frothed--trickled--and stopped entirely.
+
+As he ripped his shirt back to look, the wound was closed already. But
+there was no easing of the pain that threatened to make him black out at
+any second.
+
+He heard shouting, quarreling voices, but nothing made sense through the
+haze of his agony. He felt someone grab at him--more than one
+person--and they were dragging him willy-nilly across the ground.
+Something was clutched around his throat, almost choking him. He opened
+his eyes just as something clicked behind him.
+
+The huge, translucent walls of the monstrous egg were all around him and
+the opened side was closing.
+
+The pain began to abate. The bleeding had already stopped entirely and
+his lungs seemed to have cleared themselves of the blood and froth in
+them. Now with the ache of the wound ceasing, Dave could still feel the
+venom burning in his blood, and the constriction around his throat was
+still there, making it hard to breathe. He sat up, trying to free
+himself. The constriction came from an arm around his neck, but he
+couldn't see to whom it belonged, and there was no place to move aside
+in the corner of the egg.
+
+From inside, the walls of the egg were transparent enough for him to see
+cloudy outlines of what lay beyond. He could see the ground sweeping
+away beneath them from all points. A man had run up and was standing
+beside the egg, beating at it. The man suddenly shot up like a fountain,
+growing huge; he towered over them, until he seemed miles high and the
+giant structures Dave could see were only the turned-up toes of the
+man's shoes. One of those shoes was lifting, as if the man meant to step
+on the egg.
+
+They must be growing smaller again.
+
+A voice said tightly: "We're small enough, Bork. Can you raise the wind
+for us now?"
+
+"Hold on." Bork's voice seemed sure of itself.
+
+The egg tilted and soared. Dave was thrown sidewise and had to fight for
+balance. He stared unbelievingly through the crystal shell. They rose
+like a Banshee jet. There was a shaggy, monstrous colossus in the
+distance, taller than the Himalayas--the man who had been beside them.
+Bork grunted. "Got it! We're all right now." He chanted something in a
+rapid undertone "All right, relax. That will teach them not to work
+resonance magic inside a protective ring; the egg knows how we could
+have got through otherwise. Lucky we were trying at the right time,
+though. The Satheri must be going crazy. Wait a minute, this tires the
+fingers."
+
+The man called Bork halted the series of rapid passes he had been
+making, flexing his fingers with a grimace. The spinning egg began to
+drop at once, but he let out a long, keening cry, adding a slight flip
+of his other arm. Outside, something like a mist drew near and swirled
+around them. It looked huge to Dave, but must have been a small thing in
+fact. Now they began speeding along smoothly again. The thing was
+probably another sylph, strong enough to move them in their present
+reduced size.
+
+Bork pointed his finger. "There's the roc!" He leaned closer to the wall
+of the tiny egg and shouted. The sylph changed direction, and began to
+bob about.
+
+It drifted gently, while Bork pulled a few sticks with runes written on
+them toward him and made a hasty assembly of them. At once, there was a
+feeling of growing, and the sylph began to shrink away from them. Now
+they were falling swiftly, growing as they dropped. Dave felt his
+stomach twist, until he saw they were heading toward a huge bird that
+was cruising along under them, drawing closer. It looked like a cross
+between a condor and a hawk, but its wing span must have been over three
+hundred feet. It slipped under the egg, catching the falling object
+deftly on a cushion-like attachment between its wings, and then struck
+off briskly toward the east.
+
+Bork snapped the side of the egg open and stepped out while the others
+followed. Dave tried to crawl out, but something held him back. It
+wasn't until Bork's big hand reached in to help him that he made it.
+When all were out, Bork tapped the egg-shaped object and caught it as it
+shrank. When it was small enough, he pocketed it.
+
+Dave sat up again, examining himself, now that he had more room. His
+clothing was a mess, spattered with drying blood, but he seemed unharmed
+now. Even the burning of the venom was gone. He reached for the arm
+around his neck and began breaking it free from its stranglehold.
+
+From behind an incredulous cry broke out. Nema sprawled across him,
+staring at his face and burying her head against his shoulder. "Dave!
+You're not dead! You're alive!"
+
+Dave was still amazed at that himself. But Bork snorted. "Of course he
+is. Why'd we take him along with you hanging on in a faint if he were
+dead? When the snetha-knife kills, it kills completely. They stay dead,
+or they don't die. Sagittarian?"
+
+She nodded, and the big man seemed to be doing some calculations in his
+head.
+
+"Yeah," he decided. "It would be. There was one second there around
+midnight when all the signs were at their absolute maximum
+favorableness. Someone must have said some pretty dangerous health
+spells over him then." He turned to Dave, as if aware that the other was
+comparatively ignorant of such matters. "Happened once before, without
+this mess-up of the signs. They revived a corpse and found he was
+unkillable from then on. He lasted eight thousand years, or something
+like that, before he got burned trying to control a giant salamander.
+They cut off his head once, but it healed before the axe was all the way
+through. Woops!"
+
+The bird had dipped downward, rushing toward the ground. It landed at a
+hundred miles an hour and managed to stop against a small entrance to a
+cave in the hillside. Except for the one patch where the bird had
+lighted, they were in the middle of a dense forest.
+
+Dave and Nema were hustled into the cave, while the others melted into
+the woods, studying the skies. She clung to Dave, crying something about
+how the Sons of the Egg would torture them.
+
+"All right," he said finally. "Who are these sons of eggs? And what have
+they got against me?"
+
+"They're monsters," she told him. "They used to be the antimagic
+individualists. They wanted magic used only when other means wouldn't
+work. They fought against the Satheri. While magic produced their food
+and made a better world for them, they hated it because they couldn't do
+it for themselves. And a few renegade priests like my brother joined
+them."
+
+"Your brother?"
+
+"She means me," Bork said. He came in to drop on his haunches and grin
+at Dave. There was no sign of personal hatred in his look. "I used to be
+a stooge for Sather Karf, before I got sick of it. How do you feel, Dave
+Hanson?"
+
+Dave considered it, still in wonder at the truth. "I feel good. Even the
+venom they were putting in my blood doesn't seem to hurt any more."
+
+"Fine. Means the Sather Karf must believe we killed you--he must have
+the report by now. If he thinks you're dead, there's no point in his
+giving chase; he knows I wouldn't let them kill Nema, even if she is a
+little fool. Anyhow, he's not really such a bad old guy, Dave--not, like
+some of those Satheri. Well, you figure how you'd like it if you were
+just a simple man and some priest magicked her away from you--and then
+sent her back with enough magic of her own to be a witch and make life
+hell for you because she'd been kicked out by the priest, but he hadn't
+pulled the wanting spell off her. Or anything else you wanted and
+couldn't keep against magic. Sure, they fed us. They had to, after they
+took away our fields and the kine, and got everyone into the habit of
+taking their dole instead of earning our living in the old way. They
+made slaves of us. Any man who lets another be responsible for him _is_
+a slave. It's a fine world for the Satheri, if they can keep the egg
+from breaking."
+
+"What's all this egg nonsense?"
+
+Bork shrugged. "Plain good sense. Why should there be a sky shell around
+the planet? Look, there's a legend here. You should know it, since for
+all I know it has some meaning for you. Long ago--or away, or
+whatever--there was a world called Tharé and another called Erath. Two
+worlds, separate and distinct, on their own branching time paths. They
+must have been that way since the moment of creation. One was a world of
+rule and law. One plus one might not always equal two, but it had to
+equal something. There seems to be some similarity to your world in
+that, doesn't there? The other was--well, you'd call it chaos, though it
+had some laws, if they could be predicted. One plus one there
+depended--or maybe there was no such thing as unity. Mass-energy wasn't
+conserved. It was deserved. It was a world of anarchy, from your point
+of view. It must have been a terrible place to live, I guess."
+
+He hesitated somberly. "As terrible as this one is getting to be," he
+said at last. "Anyway, there were people who lived there. There were the
+two inhabited worlds in their own time lines, or probability orbits, or
+whatever. You know, I suppose, how worlds of probability would separate
+and diverge as time goes on? Of course. Well, these two worlds
+_coalesced_."
+
+He looked searchingly at Dave. "Do you see it? The two time lines came
+together. Two opposites fused into one. Don't ask me to explain it; it
+was long ago, and all I know for sure is that it happened. The two
+worlds met and fused, and out of the two came this world, in what the
+books call the _Dawnstruggle_. When it was over, our world was as it
+has been for thousands of centuries. In fact, one result was that in
+theory, neither original world could have a real past, and the fusion
+was something that had been--no period of change. It's pretty
+complicated."
+
+"It sounds worse than that," Dave grumbled. "But while that might
+explain the mystery of magic working here, it doesn't explain your sky."
+
+Bork scratched his head. "No, not too well," he admitted. "I've always
+had some doubts about whether or not all the worlds have a shell around
+them. I don't know. But our world does, and the shell is cracking. The
+Satheri don't like it; they want to stop it. We want it to happen. For
+the two lines that met and fused into one have an analogue. Doesn't the
+story of that fusion suggest something to you, Dave Hanson? Don't you
+see it, the male principle of rule and the female principle of whim;
+they join, and the egg is fertile! Two universes join, and the result is
+a nucleus world surrounded by a shell, like an egg. We're a universe
+egg. And when an egg hatches, you don't try to put it back together!"
+
+He didn't look like a fanatic, Dave told himself. Crazy or not, he took
+this business of the hatching egg seriously. But you could never be sure
+about anyone who joined a cult. "What is your egg going to hatch into?"
+he asked.
+
+The big man shrugged. "Does an egg know it is going to become a hen--or
+maybe a fish? We can't possibly tell, of course."
+
+Dave considered it. "Don't you even have a guess?"
+
+Bork answered shortly, "No." He looked worried, Dave thought, and
+guessed that even the fanatics were not quite sure they _wanted_ to be
+hatched. Bork shrugged again.
+
+"An egg has got to hatch," he said. "That's all there is to it. We
+prophesied this, oh, two hundred years ago. The Satheri laughed. Now
+they've stopped laughing, but they want to stop it. What happens to a
+chick when it is stopped from hatching? Does it go on being a chick, or
+does it die? It dies, of course. And we don't want to die. No, Dave
+Hanson, we don't know what happens next--but we do know that we must go
+through with it. I have nothing against you personally--but I can't let
+you stop us. That's why we tried to kill you. If I could, I'd kill you
+now, with the snetha-knife so they couldn't revive you."
+
+Dave said reasonably, "You can't expect me to like it, you know. The
+Satheri, at least, saved my life--" He stopped in confusion. Bork was
+staring at him in hilarious incredulousness that broke into roars of
+laughter.
+
+"You mean ... Dave Hanson, do you believe everything they tell you?
+Don't you know that the Satheri arranged to kill you first? They needed
+a favorable death conjunction to bring you back to life; they got it--by
+arranging an accident!"
+
+Nema cried out in protest. "That's a lie!"
+
+"Of course," Bork said mildly. "You always were on their side, little
+sister. You were also usually a darned nuisance, fond as I was of you.
+Come here."
+
+He caught her and yanked a single hair out of her head. She screamed and
+tried to claw him, then fought for the hair. Bork was immovable. He held
+her off easily with one hand while the fingers of the other danced in
+the air. He spoke what seemed to be a name, though it bore no
+resemblance to Nema. She quieted, trembling.
+
+"You'll find a broom near the entrance, little sister. Take it and go
+back, to forget that Dave Hanson lives. You saw him die and were
+dragged off with us and his body. You escaped before we reached our
+hideaway. By the knot I tie in your true hair and by your secret name,
+this I command."
+
+She blinked slowly and looked around as Bork burned the knotted hair.
+Her eyes swept past Bork and Dave without seeing them and centered on
+the broom one man held out to her, without appearing to see him, either.
+She seized the broom. A sob came to her throat. "The devil! The renegade
+devil! He didn't have to kill Dave! He didn't--"
+
+Her voice died away as she ran toward the clearing. Dave made no
+protest. He suspected Bork was putting the spell on her for her own
+good, and he agreed that she was better out of all this.
+
+"Now where were we?" Bork asked. "Oh, yes, I was trying to convert you
+and knowing I'd failed already. Of course, I don't know that they killed
+you first--but those are their methods. Take it from me, I know. I was
+the youngest Ser ever to be accepted for training as a Sather. They
+wanted you, so they got you."
+
+Dave considered it. It seemed as likely as anything else. "Why me?" he
+asked.
+
+"Because you can put back the sky. At least, the Satheri think so, and I
+must admit that in some ways they are smarter than we."
+
+Dave started to protest, but Bork cut him off.
+
+"I know all about your big secret. You're not the engineer, whose true
+name was longer. We know all that. Our pools are closer to perfection
+than theirs, not being contaminated by city air, and we see more. But
+there is a cycle of confirmation; if prophecy indicates a thing will
+happen, it will happen--though not always as expected. The prophecy
+fulfills itself, rather than being fulfilled. Then there are the words
+on the monument--a monument meant for your uncle, but carrying your true
+name, because his friends felt the short form sounded better. It was
+something of a coincidence that they had the wrong true name. But
+prophecy is always strongest when based on coincidence--that is a prime
+rule. And those words coupled with our revelations prophesy that
+_you_--not your uncle--can do the impossible. So what are we going to do
+with you?"
+
+Bork's attitude was reassuring, somehow. It was nearer his own than any
+Dave had heard on this world. And the kidnapping was beginning to look
+like a relief. The Sons of the Egg had gotten him off the hook with
+Sather Karf. He grinned and stretched back. "If I'm unkillable, Bork,
+what can you do?"
+
+The big man grinned back. "Flow rock around you up to your nose and toss
+you into a lake. You'd live there--but you'd always be drowning and
+you'd find it slightly unpleasant for the next few thousand years! It's
+not as bad as being turned into a mangrove with your soul intact, but it
+would last longer. And don't think the Satheri can't pull a lot worse
+than that. They have your name--everyone has your secret name here--and
+parts of you."
+
+The conversation was suddenly less pleasant. Dave thought it over. "I
+could stay here and join your group. I might as well, since I can't
+really help the Satheri anyhow."
+
+"They'd spot your aura eventually. They'll be checking around here for
+us for a while. Of course, we might do something about it, if you really
+converted. But I don't think you would, if you knew more." Bork got up
+and headed for the entrance. "I wasn't going to let you see the
+risings, but now maybe I will. If you still want to join, it might be
+worked. Otherwise, I'll think of something else."
+
+Dave followed the man out into the clearing. A few men were just
+planning to leave, and they looked at Dave suspiciously, but made no
+protest. One, whom Dave recognized as the leader with the snetha-knife,
+scowled.
+
+"The risings are almost due, Bork," he said.
+
+Bork nodded. "I know, Malok. I've decided to let Dave Hanson watch.
+Dave, this is our leader here, Res Malok."
+
+Dave felt no strong love for his would-be murderer, and it seemed to be
+mutual. But no protest was lodged. Apparently Bork was their top
+conjurer, and privileged. They crossed the clearing and went through the
+woods toward another, smaller one. Here a group of some fifty men were
+watching the sky, obviously waiting. Others stood around, watching them
+and avoiding looking up. Almost directly overhead, there was a rent
+place where the strange absence of color or feature indicated a hole in
+the dome over them. As it drew nearer true vertical, a chanting began
+among the men with up-turned faces. Their hands went upwards, fingers
+spread and curled into an unnatural position. Then they stood waiting.
+
+"I don't like it," Bork whispered to Dave. "This is one of the reasons
+we're growing too weak to fight the Satheri."
+
+"What's wrong with a ceremony of worship, if you must worship your
+eggshell?" Dave asked.
+
+"You'll see. That was all it was once--just worship. But now for weeks,
+things are changing. They think it's a sign of favor, but I don't know.
+There, watch!"
+
+The hole in the sky was directly overhead now, and the moaning had
+risen in pitch. Across the little clearing, Malok began backing quietly
+away, carefully not looking upwards. Nobody but Dave seemed to notice
+his absence. There was a louder moan.
+
+One of the men in the clearing began to rise upwards slowly. His body
+was rigid as it lifted a foot, ten feet, then a hundred above the
+ground. Now it picked up speed, and rushed upwards. Another began to
+rise, and another. In seconds, more than half of those who had waited
+were screaming upwards toward the hole in the sky. They disappeared in
+the distance.
+
+Those who had merely stood by and those who had worshipped waited a few
+seconds more, but no more rose. The men sighed and began moving out of
+the clearing. Dave arose to follow, but Bork gestured for him to wait.
+
+"Sometimes--" he said.
+
+They were alone now. Still Bork waited, staring upwards. Then Dave saw
+something in the sky. A speck appeared and came hurtling down. In
+seconds, it was the body of one of the men who had risen. Dave felt his
+stomach tighten and braced himself. There was no slowing as the body
+fell. It landed in the center of the clearing, without losing speed, but
+with less noise than he had expected.
+
+When they reached the shattered body, there could be no question of its
+being dead.
+
+Bork's face was solemn. "If you're thinking of joining, you'd better
+know the worst. You're too easily shocked to make a good convert unless
+you're prepared. The risings have been going on for some time. Malok
+swears it proves we are right. But I've seen five other bodies come down
+like this. What does it mean? Are they stillborn? We don't know. Shall
+I revive him for you?"
+
+Dave felt sick as he stared at the ghastly terror on the face of the
+corpse. The last thing he wanted to see was its revival, but his
+curiosity about the secret in the sky could not be denied. He nodded.
+
+Bork drew a set of phials and implements in miniature size from under
+his robe. "This is routine," he said. He snapped his fingers and
+produced a small flame over the heart of the corpse. Into that he began
+dusting powders, mixing them with something that looked like blood.
+Finally he called a name and a command. There was a sharp explosion, a
+hissing, and Bork's voice calling.
+
+The dead man flowed together and was whole. He stood up woodenly, with
+his face frozen. "Who calls?" he asked in an uninflected, hollow voice.
+"Why am I called? I have no soul."
+
+"We call," Bork answered. "Tell us what you saw at the hole in the sky."
+
+A scream tore from the throat of the thing, and its hands came up to its
+eyes, tearing at them. Its mouth worked soundlessly, and breath sucked
+in. Then a single word came out.
+
+"Faces!"
+
+It fell onto the grass, distorted in death again. Bork shuddered.
+
+"The others were the same," he said. "And he can't be revived again.
+Even the strongest spell can't bring back his soul. That is gone,
+somehow."
+
+Dave shivered. "And knowing that, you'd still fight against repairing
+the sky?"
+
+"Hatching is probably always horrible from inside the shell," Bork
+answered. "Do you still want to join us? No, I thought not. Well, then,
+let's go back. We might as well try to eat something while I think
+about what to do with you."
+
+Malok and most of the others were gone when they reached the cave again.
+Bork fell to work with some scraps of food, cursing the configurations
+of the planets as his spell refused to work. Then suddenly the scraps
+became a mass of sour-smelling stuff. Bork made a face as he tasted it,
+but he ate it in silence. Dave couldn't force himself to put it in his
+mouth, though he was hungry by then.
+
+He considered, and then snapped his fingers. "Abracadabra," he cried. He
+swore as something wet and slimy that looked like seaweed plopped into
+his hand. The next time he got a limp fish that had been dead far too
+long. But the third try worked better. This time, a whole bunch of
+bananas appeared. They were a little riper than he liked, but some of
+them were edible enough. He handed some to the other man, who quickly
+abandoned his own creation.
+
+Bork was thoughtful as he ate. Finally he grimaced. "New magic!" he
+said. "Maybe that's the secret of the prophecy. I thought you knew no
+magic."
+
+"I didn't," Dave admitted. He was still tingling inside himself at this
+confirmation of his earlier discovery. It was unpredictable magic, but
+apparently bore some vague relationship to what he was wishing for.
+
+"So the lake's out," Bork decided. "With unknown powers at your command,
+you might escape in time. Well, that settles it. There's one place where
+nobody will look for you or listen to you. You'll be nothing but another
+among millions, and that's probably the best hiding place for you. With
+the overseers they have, you couldn't even turn yourself back to the
+Satheri, though I'll admit I'm hoping you don't want them to find you."
+
+"And I was beginning to think you liked me," Dave commented bitterly.
+
+Bork grinned. "I do, Dave Hanson. That's why I'm picking the easiest
+place to hide you I can think of. It will be hell, but anything else
+would be worse. Better strip and put this cloth on."
+
+The thing he held out was little more than a rag, apparently torn from
+one of the robes. "Come on, strip, or I'll burn off your clothes with a
+salamander. There, that's better. Now wrap the cloth around your waist
+and let it hang down in front. It'll be easier on you if you don't
+attract much attention. The sky seems to indicate the planets favor
+teleportation now. Be quick before I change my mind and think of
+something worse!"
+
+Dave didn't see what he did this time, but there was a puff of flame in
+front of his eyes.
+
+The next second, he stood manacled in a long line of men loaded with
+heavy stones. Over their backs fell the cutting lashes of a whip. Far
+ahead was a partially finished pyramid. Dave was obviously one of the
+building slaves.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+Sunrise glared harshly over the desert. It was already hot enough to
+send heat waves dancing over the sand as Hanson wakened under the bite
+of a lash. The overseers were shouting and kicking the slaves awake.
+Overhead the marred sky shone in crazy quilt patterns.
+
+Hanson stood up, taking the final bite of the whip without flinching. He
+glanced down at his body, noticing that it had somehow developed a
+healthy deep tan during the few hours of murderous labor the day before.
+He wasn't particularly surprised. Something in his mind seemed also to
+have developed a "tan" that let him face the bite of chance without
+flinching. He'd stopped wondering and now accepted; he meant to get away
+from here at the first chance and he was somehow sure he could.
+
+It was made easier by the boundless strength of his new body. He showed
+no signs of buckling under physical work that would have killed him on
+his own world.
+
+Not all the slaves got up. Two beside him didn't move at all. Sleeping
+through that brutal awakening seemed impossible. When Hanson looked
+closer, he saw that they weren't asleep; they were dead.
+
+The overseer raged back along the line and saw them. He must be one of
+those conjured into existence here from the real Egypt of the past. He
+might have no soul, but a lifetime of being an overseer had given him
+habits that replaced the need for what had been a pretty slim soul to
+begin with.
+
+"Quitters!" he yelled. "Lazy, worthless, work-dodging goldbrick
+artists!" He knelt in fury, thumbing back the eyelids of the corpses.
+There was little need for the test. They were too limp, too waxen to be
+pretending.
+
+The overseer cut them out of the chain and kicked at Hanson. "Move
+along!" he bellowed. "Menes himself is here, and he's not as gentle as I
+am."
+
+Hanson joined the long line, wondering what they were going to do about
+breakfast. How the devil did they expect the slaves to put in sixteen
+hours of work without some kind of food? There had been nothing the
+night before but a skin of water. There was not even that much this
+morning. No wonder the two beside him had died from overwork, beatings
+and plain starvation.
+
+Menes was there, all right. Hanson saw him from the distance, a skinny
+giant of a man in breechclout, cape and golden headdress. He bore a whip
+like everyone else who seemed to have any authority at all, but he
+wasn't using it. He was standing hawklike on a slight rise in the sandy
+earth, motionless and silent. Beside him was a shorter figure: a pudgy
+man with a thin mustache, on whom the Egyptian headdress looked
+strangely out of place. It could only be Ser Perth!
+
+Hanson's staring came to an end as the lash cut down across his
+shoulders, biting through to the shoulder-bone. He stumbled forward,
+heedless of the overseers' shouting voices. Someday, if he had the
+chance, he'd flay his own overseer, but that could wait. Even the agony
+of the cut couldn't take his mind from Ser Perth's presence. Had Bork
+slipped up--did the Satheri know that Hanson was still alive, and had
+they sent Ser Perth here to locate him? It seemed unlikely, however. The
+man was paying no attention to the lines of slaves. It would be hard to
+spot one among three million, anyhow. More likely, Hanson decided, Ser
+Perth was supervising the supervisors, making an inspection tour of all
+this.
+
+Of all what? Apparently then this must be another of their frenzied
+efforts to find a way to put back the sky. He'd heard that they had
+called up the pyramid builder, but hadn't fully realized it would lead
+to this type of activity.
+
+He looked around him appraisingly. The long lines of slaves that had
+been carrying rock and rubble the day before now were being formed into
+hauling teams. Long ropes were looped around enormous slabs of quarried
+rock. Rollers underneath them and slaves tugging and pushing at them
+were the only means of moving them. The huge stones slid remorselessly
+forward onto the prepared beds of rubble. Casting back in his memory,
+Hanson could not recall seeing the rock slabs the night before. They had
+appeared as if by magic--
+
+Obviously, they had really been conjured up by magic. But if the rocks
+could be conjured, what was the need of all the slaves and the sadistic
+overseers? Why not simply magic the entire construction, whatever it was
+to be?
+
+The whip hit him again, and the raging voice of the overseer ranted in
+his ears. "Get on, you blundering slacker. Menes himself is looking at
+you. Ho there--what the devil?"
+
+The overseer's hand spun Hanson around. The man's eyes, large and
+opaque, stared at Hanson. He frowned cruelly. "Yeah, you're the same
+one! Didn't I take the hide off your back twice already? And now you
+stand there without a scar or a drop of blood!"
+
+Hanson grunted feebly. He didn't want attention called to himself while
+Ser Perth was around. "I--I heal quickly." It was no more than the
+truth. Either the body they'd given him or the conjuring during the
+right split second had enabled him to heal almost before a blow was
+struck.
+
+"Magic!" The overseer scowled and gave Hanson a shove that sent him
+sprawling. "Blithering magic again! Magic stones that melt when you get
+them in place--magic slaves that the whip won't touch! And they expect
+us to do a job of work such as not even Thoth could dream up! They won't
+take honest work. No, they have to come snooping and conjuring and
+interfering. Wheels on rollers! Tools of steel and the gods know what
+instead of honest stone. Magic to lift things instead of honest ropes
+that shrink and wood that swells. Magic that fails, and rush, rush, rush
+until I'm half ready to be tortured for falling behind, and--you! You
+would, would you!" His voice trailed off into a fresh roar of rage as he
+caught sight of other slaves taking advantage of his attention to Hanson
+to relax. He raced off, brandishing the whip.
+
+Hanson tried to make himself inconspicuous after that. The wounds would
+heal, and the beatings could never kill him; but there had been no
+provision in his new body for the suppression of pain. He hungered,
+thirsted and suffered like anyone else. Maybe he was learning to take
+it, here, but not to like it.
+
+At the expense of a hundred slaves and considerable deterioration of the
+whips, one block of stone was in place before the sun was high overhead
+in the coppery, mottled sky. Then there was the blessing of a moment's
+pause. Men were coming down the long lines, handing something to the
+slaves. Food, Hanson anticipated.
+
+He was wrong. When the slave with the wicker basket came closer he could
+see that the contents were not food but some powdery stuff that was
+dipped out with carved spoons into the eager hands of the slaves. Hanson
+smelled his portion dubiously. It was cloying, sickly sweet.
+
+Hashish! Or opium, heroin, hemp--Hanson was no expert. But it was
+certainly some kind of drug. Judging by the avid way the other slaves
+were gulping it down, each one of them had been exposed to it before.
+Hanson cautiously made the pretense of swallowing his before he allowed
+it to slip through his fingers to mingle with the sand. Drug addiction
+was obviously a convenient way to make the slaves forget their aches and
+fears, to keep them everlasting anxious to please whatever was necessary
+to make sure the precious, deadly ration never stopped.
+
+There was still no sign of food. The pause in the labor was only for the
+length of time it took the drug-bearing slaves to complete their task.
+Ten minutes, or fifteen at the outside; then the overseers were back
+with the orders and the lashes.
+
+The slaves regrouped on new jobs, and Hanson found himself in a bunch of
+a dozen or so. They were lashing the hauling ropes around a twelve-foot
+block of stone; the rollers were already in place, with the crudely
+plaited ropes dangling loosely. Hanson found himself being lifted by a
+couple of the other slaves to the shoulders of a third. His clawing
+hands caught the top of the block and the slaves below heaved him
+upward. He scrambled to the top and caught the ropes that were flung up
+to him.
+
+From his vantage point he saw what he had not seen before--the amazing
+size of the construction project. This was no piffling little Gizeh
+pyramid, no simple tomb for a king. Its base was measured in kilometers
+instead of yards, and its top was going to be proportionally high,
+apparently. It hardly seemed that there could be enough stone in the
+whole world to finish the job. As far as Hanson could see, over the
+level sand, the ground was black with the suffering millions of slaves
+in their labor gangs.
+
+The idiots must be trying to reach the sky with their pyramid. There
+could be no other answer to the immense bulk planned for this structure.
+Like the pride-maddened men of Babel, they were building a sky-high
+thing of stone. It was obviously impossible, and even Menes must be
+aware of that. Yet perhaps it was no more impossible than all the rest
+of the things in this impossible world.
+
+When the warlocks of this world had discovered that they could not solve
+the problem of the sky, they must have gone into a state of pure
+hysteria, like a chicken dashing back and forth in front of a car. They
+had sought through other worlds and ages for anyone with a reputation as
+a builder, engineer or construction genius, without screening the
+probability of finding an answer. The size of the ancient pyramid must
+have been enough to sway them. They had used Hanson, Menes, Einstein,
+Cagliostro--for some reason of their own, since he'd never been a
+builder--and probably a thousand more. And then they had half-supplied
+all of them, rather than picking the most likely few and giving full
+cooperation. Magic must have made solutions to most things so easy that
+they no longer had the guts to try the impossible themselves. A pyramid
+seemed like a ridiculous solution, but for an incredible task, an
+impossible solution had to be tried.
+
+And maybe, he thought, they'd overlooked the obvious in their own
+system. The solution to a problem in magic should logically be found in
+magic, not in the methods of other worlds. His mind groped for something
+that almost came into his consciousness--some inkling of what should
+have been done, or how they had failed. It was probably only an idle
+fancy, but--
+
+"Hey!" One of the slaves below was waving at him. While Hanson looked
+down, the slave called to another, got a shoulder to lean on, and walked
+his way up the side of the block, pushed from below and helped by
+Hanson's hands above. He was panting when he reached the top, but he
+could still talk. "Look, it's your skin, but you're going to be in
+trouble if you don't get busy. Look out for that overseer up there.
+Don't just stand around when he's in sight." He picked up a loop of rope
+and passed it to Hanson, making a great show of hard work.
+
+Hanson stared up at the overseer who was staring back at him. "Why is he
+any worse than the rest of this crowd?"
+
+The slave shuddered as the dour, slow-moving overseer began walking
+stiffly toward them. "Don't let the fact that he's an overseer fool you.
+He's smarter than most of his kind, but just as ugly. He's a mandrake,
+and you can't afford to mess with him."
+
+Hanson looked at the ancient, wrinkled face of the mandrake and
+shuddered. There was the complete incarnation of inhumanity in the
+thing's expression. He passed ropes around the corners until the
+mandrake turned and rigidly marched away, the blows of his whip falling
+metronome-like on the slaves he passed. "Thanks," Hanson said "I wonder
+what it's like, being a true mandrake?"
+
+"Depends," the slave said easily. He was obviously more intelligent than
+most, and better at conserving himself. "Some mandrake-men are real. I
+mean, the magicians want somebody whom they can't just call back--direct
+translation of the body usually messes up the brain patterns enough to
+make the thinkers hard to use, especially with the sky falling. So they
+get his name and some hold on his soul and then rebuild his body around
+a mandrake root. They bind his soul into that, and in some ways he's
+almost human. Sometimes they even improve on what he was. But the true
+mandrake--like that one--never was human. Just an ugly, filthy
+simulacrum. It's bad business. I never liked it, even though I was in
+training for sersa rating."
+
+"You're from this world?" Hanson asked in surprise. He'd been assuming
+that the man was one of the things called back.
+
+"A lot of us are. They conscripted a lot of the people they didn't need
+for these jobs. But I was a little special. All right, maybe you don't
+believe me--you think they wouldn't send a student sersa here now. Look,
+I can prove it. I managed to sneak one of the books I was studying back
+with me. See?"
+
+He drew a thin volume from his breechclout cautiously, then slipped it
+back again. "You don't get such books unless you're at least of student
+rating." He sighed, then shrugged. "My trouble is that I could never
+keep my mouth shut. I was attendant at one of the revivatoria, and I got
+drunk enough to let out some information about one of the important
+revival cases. So here I am."
+
+"Umm." Hanson worked silently for a minute, wondering how far
+coincidence could go. It could go a long ways here, he decided. "You
+wouldn't have been sentenced to twenty lifetimes here by the Sather
+Karf, would you?"
+
+The slave stared at him in surprise. "You guessed it. I've died only
+fourteen times so far, so I've got six more lives to go. But--hey, you
+can't be! They were counting on you to be the one who really fixed
+things. Don't tell me my talking out of turn did this to you."
+
+Hanson reassured him on that. He recognized the man now for another
+reason. "Aren't you the one I saw dead on his back right next to me this
+morning?"
+
+"Probably. Name's Barg." He stood up to take a careful look at the net
+of cording around the stone. "Looks sound enough. Yeah, I died this
+morning, which is why I'm fairly fresh now. Those overseers won't feed
+us because it takes time and wastes food; they let us die and then have
+us dragged back for more work. It's a lot easier on the ones they
+dragged back already dead; dying doesn't matter so much without a soul."
+
+"Some of them seem to be Indians," Hanson noted. He hadn't paid too
+much attention, but the slaves seemed to be from every possible
+background.
+
+Barg nodded. "Aztecs from a place called Tenochtitlan. Twenty thousand
+of them got sacrificed in a bunch for some reason or other. Poor devils.
+They think this is some kind of heaven. They tell me this is easy work
+compared to the type they had to undergo. The Satheri like to get big
+bunches through in one conjuration, like the haul they made from the
+victims of somebody named Tamerlane." He tested a rope, then dropped to
+a sitting position on the edge of the block. "I'll let you stay up to
+call signals from here. Only watch it. That overseer has his eyes on
+you. Make sure the ropes stay tight while we see if the thing can be
+moved."
+
+He started to slip over the side, hanging by his fingertips. Something
+caught, and he swore. With one hand, he managed to free his breechclout
+and drag out the thin volume that was lodged between his groin and the
+block. "Here, hold this for me until we meet tonight. You've got more
+room to hide it in your cloth than I have." He tossed it over quickly,
+then dropped from sight to land on the ground below.
+
+Hanson shoved the book out of sight and tried to act busy again. The
+mandrake overseer had started ponderously toward him. But in a moment
+the thing's attention was directed to some other object of torture.
+
+Hanson braced himself as the lines of slaves beneath him settled
+themselves to the ropes. There was a loud cracking of whips and a chorus
+of groans. A small drum took up a beat, and the slaves strained and
+tugged in unison. Ever so slowly, the enormous block of stone began to
+move, while the ropes drew tighter.
+
+Hanson checked the rigging with half his mind, while the other half
+raced in a crazy circle of speculation. Mandrakes and mandrake-men,
+zombie-men, from the past and multiple revivals! A sky that fell in
+great chunks. What came next in this ridiculous world in which he seemed
+to be trapped?
+
+As if in answer to his question, there was a sudden, coruscating flare
+from above.
+
+Hanson's body reacted instinctively. His arm came up over his eyes,
+cutting off the glare. But he managed to squint across it, upwards
+toward what was happening in the cracked dome. For a split second, he
+thought that the sun had gone nova.
+
+He was wrong, but not by too much. Something had happened to the sun.
+Now it was flickering and flaming, shooting enormous jets of fire from
+its rim. It hovered at the edge of a great new hole and seemed to be
+wobbling, careening and losing its balance.
+
+There was a massive shriek of fear and panic from the horde of slaves.
+They began bellowing like the collective death-agony of a world. Most of
+them dropped their ropes and ran in blind panic, trampling over each
+other in their random flight for safety. The human overseers were part
+of the same panic-stricken riot. Only the mandrakes stood stolidly in
+place, flicking each running man who passed them.
+
+Hanson flung himself face down on the stone. There was a roar of
+tortured air from overhead and a thundering sound that was unlike
+anything except the tearing of an infinity of cloth combined with a
+sustained explosion of atomic bombs. Then it seemed as if the
+thunderbolt of Thor himself had blasted in Hanson's ears.
+
+The sky had ripped again, and this time the entire dome shook with the
+shock. But that wasn't the worst of it.
+
+The sun had broken through the hole and was falling!
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+The fall of the sun was seemingly endless. It teetered out of the hole
+and seemed to hover, spitting great gouts of flame as it encountered the
+phlogiston layer. Slowly, agonizingly, it picked up speed and began its
+downward rush. Unlike the sky, it seemed to obey the normal laws of
+inertia Hanson had known. It swelled bit by bit, raging as it drew
+nearer. And it seemed to be heading straight for the pyramid.
+
+The heat was already rising. It began to sear the skin long before the
+sun struck the normal atmosphere. Hanson could feel that he was being
+baked alive. The blood in his arteries seemed to bubble and boil, though
+that must have been an illusion. But he could see his skin rise in giant
+blisters and heal almost at once to blister again. He screamed in agony,
+and heard a million screams around him. Then the other screams began to
+decrease in numbers and weaken in volume, and he knew that the slaves
+were dying.
+
+Through a slit between two fingers, he watched the ponderous descent.
+The light was enough to sear his retinas, but even they healed faster
+than the damage. He estimated the course of the sun, amazed to find that
+there was no panic in him, and doubly amazed that he could think at all
+over the torture that wracked his body.
+
+Finally, convinced that the sun would strike miles to the south, he
+rolled across the scorching surface of the stone block and dropped to
+the north side of it. The shock of landing must have broken bones, but
+a moment later he could begin to breathe again. The heat was still
+intense, even behind the stone block, but it was bearable--at least for
+him.
+
+Pieces were breaking off the sun as it fell, and already striking the
+ground. One fell near, and its heat seared at him, giving him no place
+of shelter. Then the sun struck, sending up earth tremors that knocked
+him from his feet. He groped up and stared around the block.
+
+The sun had struck near the horizon, throwing up huge masses of
+material. Its hissing against the ground was a tumult in his ears, and
+superheated ash and debris began to fall.
+
+So far as he could see, there were no other survivors in the camp. Three
+million slaves had died. Those who had found some shelter behind the
+stonework had lived longer than the others, but that had only increased
+their suffering. And even his body must have been close to its limits,
+if it could be killed at all.
+
+He was still in danger. If a salamander could destroy even such a body
+as his, then the fragments of sun that were still roiling across the
+landscape would be fatal. The only hope he had was to get as far away
+from the place where the sun had struck as he could.
+
+He braced himself to leave even the partial shelter. There was a pile of
+water skins near the base of the block, held in the charred remains of
+an attendant's body. The water was boiling, but there was still some
+left. He poured several skins together and drank the stuff, forcing
+himself to endure the agony of its passage down his throat. Without it,
+he'd be dehydrated before he could get a safe distance away.
+
+Then he ran. The desert was like molten iron under his bare feet, and
+the savage radiation on his back was worse than any overseer's whip.
+His mind threatened to blank out with each step, but he forced himself
+on. And slowly, as the distance increased, the sun's pyre sank further
+and further over the horizon. The heat should still have been enough to
+kill any normal body in fifteen minutes, but he could endure it. He
+stumbled on in a trot, guiding himself by the stars that shone in the
+broken sky toward a section of this world where there had been life and
+some measure of civilization before. After a few hours, the tongues of
+flame no longer flared above the horizon, though the brilliant radiance
+continued. And Hanson found that his strong and nearly indestructible
+body still had limits. It could not go on without rest forever. He was
+sobbing with fatigue at every step.
+
+He managed to dig a small hollow in the sand before dropping off to
+sleep. It was a sleep of total exhaustion, lacking even a sense of time.
+It might have been minutes or hours that he slept, and he had no way of
+knowing which. With the sun gone and the stars rocking into dizzy new
+configurations, there was no night or day, nor any way to guess the
+passage of time.
+
+He woke to a roaring wind that sent cutting blasts of sand driving
+against him. He staggered up and forced himself against it, away from
+the place where the sun had fallen. Even through the lashing sandstorm,
+he could see the glow near the horizon. Now a pillar of something that
+looked like steam but was probably vapor from molten and evaporated
+rocks was rising upwards, like the mushroom clouds of his own days. It
+was spreading, apparently just under the phlogiston layer, reflecting
+back the glare. And the wind was caused by the great rising column of
+superheated gases over the sun.
+
+He staggered on, while the sand gave way slowly to patches of green.
+With the sun gone and the sky falling into complete shreds, this world
+was certainly doomed. He'd assumed that the sun of this world must be
+above the sky, but he'd been wrong; like the other heavenly bodies, it
+had been embedded inside the shell. He had discovered that the sky
+material resisted any sudden stroke, but that other matter could be
+interpenetrated into it, as the stars were. He had even been able to
+pass his hand and arm completely through the sample. Apparently the sun
+had passed through the sky in a similar manner.
+
+Then why hadn't the shell melted? He had no real answer. The sun must
+have been moving fast enough so that no single spot became too hot, or
+else the phlogiston layer somehow dissipated the heat.
+
+The cloud of glowing stuff from the rising air column was spreading out
+now, reflecting the light and heat back to the earth. There was a chance
+that most of one hemisphere might retain some measure of warmth, then.
+At least there was still light enough for him to travel safely.
+
+By the time he was too tired to go on again, he had come to the
+beginnings of fertile land. He passed a village, but it had been looted,
+and he skirted around it rather than stare at the ghastly ghoul-work of
+the looters. The world was ending, but civilization seemed to have ended
+already. Beyond it, he came to a rude house, now abandoned. He staggered
+in gratefully.
+
+For a change, he had one piece of good luck. His first attempt at magic
+produced food. At the sound of the snapping fingers and his
+hoarse-voiced "abracadabra," a dirty pot of hot and greasy stew came
+into existence. He had no cutlery, but his hands served well enough.
+When it was gone, he felt better. He wiped his hands on the
+breechclout. Whatever the material in the cloth, it had stood the sun's
+heat almost as well as he had.
+
+Then he paused as his hand found a lump under the cloth. He drew out the
+apprentice magician's book. The poor devil had never achieved his twenty
+lifetimes, and this was probably all that was left of him. Hanson stared
+at it, reading the title in some surprise.
+
+_Applied Semantics._
+
+He propped himself up and began to scan it, wondering what it had to do
+with magic. He'd had a course of semantics in college and could see no
+relationship. But he soon found that there were differences.
+
+This book began with the axiomatic statement that the symbol is the
+thing. From that it developed in great detail the fact that any part of
+a whole bearing similarity to the whole was also the whole; that each
+seven was the class of all sevens; and other details of the science of
+magical similarity followed quite logically from the single axiom.
+Hanson was surprised to find that there was a highly developed logic to
+it. Once he accepted the axiom--and he was no longer prepared to doubt
+it here--he could follow the book far better than he'd been able to
+follow his own course in semantics. Apparently this was supposed to be a
+difficult subject, from the constant efforts of the writer to make his
+point clear. But after learning to deal with electron holes in
+transistors, this was elementary study for Hanson.
+
+The second half of the book dealt with the use of the true name. That,
+of course, was the perfect symbol, and hence the true whole. There was
+the simple ritual of giving a secret name. Apparently any man who
+discovered a principle or device could use a name for it, just as
+parents could give one to their children. And there were the laws for
+using the name. Unfortunately, just when Hanson was beginning to make
+some sense of it, the book ended. Obviously, there was a lot more to be
+covered in later courses.
+
+He tossed the book aside, shivering as he realized that his secret name
+was common knowledge. The wonder was that he could exist at all. And
+while there was supposed to be a ritual for relinquishing one name and
+taking another, that was one of the higher mysteries not given.
+
+In the morning, he stopped to magic up some more food and the clothing
+he would need if he ever found the trace of civilized people again. The
+food was edible, though he'd never particularly liked cereal. He seemed
+to be getting the hang of abracadabraing up what was in his mind. But
+the clothing was a problem. Everything he got turned out to be the right
+size, but he couldn't see himself in hauberk and greaves, nor in a filmy
+nightgown. Finally, he managed something that was adequate, if the
+brilliant floral sportshirt could be said to go with levi pants and a
+morning frock. But he felt somewhat better in it. He finally left the
+frock behind, however. It was still too hot for that.
+
+He walked on briskly, watching for signs of life and speculating on the
+principles of applied semantics, name magic and similarity. He could
+begin to understand how an Einstein might read through one of the
+advanced books here and make leaps in theory beyond what the Satheri had
+developed. They'd had it too easy. Magic that worked tended to overcome
+the drive for the discipline needed to get the most out of it. Any good
+theoretician from Hanson's world could probably make fools of these
+people. Maybe that was why the Satheri had gone scrounging back through
+other worlds to find men who had the necessary drive to get things done
+when the going was tough.
+
+Twice he passed abandoned villages, but there was nothing there for him.
+He was coming toward forested ground now, something like the country in
+which the Sons of the Egg had found refuge. The thought of that made him
+go slower. But for a long time, there was no further sign of life. The
+woods thinned out to grasslands, and he went on for hours more before he
+spotted a cluster of lights ahead.
+
+As he drew nearer, he saw that the lights seemed to be fluorescents.
+They were coming from corrugated iron sheds that looked like aircraft
+hangars strung together. There was a woven-wire fence around the
+structures, and a sign that said simply: _Project Eighty-Five_. In the
+half-light from the sky, he could see a well-kept lawn, and there were a
+few groups of men standing about idly. Most wore white coveralls, though
+two were dressed in simple business suits.
+
+Hanson moved forward purposefully, acting as if he had urgent business.
+If he stopped, there would be questions, he suspected; he wanted to find
+answers, not to answer idle questions.
+
+There was no one at the desk in the little reception alcove, but he
+heard the sound of voices through a side door leading out. He went
+through it, to find a larger yard with more men idling. There should be
+someone here who knew more of what was going on in this world than he
+did now.
+
+His choice, in the long run, seemed to lie between Bork and the Satheri,
+unless he could find some way of hiding himself from both sides. At the
+moment, he was relatively free for the first time since they had brought
+him here, and he wanted to make sure that he could make the most use of
+the fact.
+
+Nobody asked anything. He slowed, drifting along the perimeter of the
+group of men, and still nobody paid him any attention. Finally, he
+dropped onto the ground near a group of half a dozen men who looked more
+alert than the rest. They seemed to be reminiscing over old times.
+
+     "--two thirty-eight an hour with overtime--and double time for
+     the swing shift. We really had it made then! And every
+     Saturday, never fail, the general would come out from Muroc and
+     tell us we were the heros of the home front--with overtime pay
+     while we listened to him!"
+
+     "Yeah, but what if you wanted to quit? Suppose you didn't like
+     your shift boss or somebody? You go down and get your time, and
+     they hand you your draft notice. Me, I liked it better in '46.
+     Not so much pay, but--"
+
+Hanson pricked up his ears. The conversation told him more than he
+needed to know. He stood up and peered through the windows of the shed.
+There, unattended under banks of lights, stood half-finished aircraft
+shapes.
+
+He wouldn't get much information here, it seemed. These were obviously
+reanimates, men who'd been pulled from his own world and set to work.
+They could do their duties and their memories were complete, but they
+were lacking some essential thing that had gone out of them before they
+were brought here. Unless he could find one among them who was either a
+mandrake-man housing a soul or one of the few reanimates who seemed
+almost fully human, he'd get little information. But he was curious as
+to what the Satheri had expected to do with aircraft. The rocs had
+better range and altitude than any planes of equal hauling power.
+
+He located one man who seemed a little brighter than the others. The
+fellow was lying on the ground, staring at the sky with his hands
+clasped behind his head. From time to time, he frowned, as if the sight
+of the sky was making him wonder. The man nodded as Hanson dropped down
+beside him. "Hi. Just get here, Mac?"
+
+"Yeah," Hanson assented. "What's the score?"
+
+The man sat up and made a disgusted noise. "Who knows?" he answered.
+There was more emotion in his voice than might be expected from a
+reanimate; in real life on his own world, he must have had an amazing
+potential for even that much to carry over. "We're dead. We're dead, and
+we're here, and they tell us to make helicopters. So we make them,
+working like dogs to make a deadline. Then, just as the first one comes
+off the line, the power fails. No more juice. The head engineer took off
+in the one we finished. He was going to find out what gives, but he
+never came back. So we sit." He spat on the ground. "I wish they'd left
+me dead after the plant blew up. I'm not myself since then."
+
+"What in hell would they need with helicopters?" Hanson asked.
+
+The man shrugged. "Beats me. But I'm beginning to figure some things
+out. They've got some kind of trouble with the sky. I figure they got
+confused in bringing us here. This shop is one that made those big cargo
+copters they call 'Sky Hooks' and maybe they thought the things were
+just what they're called. All I know is they kept us working five solid
+weeks for nothing. I knew the power was going to fail; they had the
+craziest damn generating plant you ever saw, and it couldn't last. The
+boilers kept sizzling and popping their safety valves with no fire in
+the box! Just some little old man sitting in a corner, practicing the
+Masonic grip or something over a smudgepot."
+
+Hanson gestured back to the sheds. "If there's no power, what are those
+lights?"
+
+"Witch lights, they told us," the man explained. "Saved a lot of wiring,
+or something. They--hey, what's that?"
+
+He was looking up, and Hanson followed his gaze. There was something
+whizzing overhead at jet-plane speed. "A piece of the sky falling?" he
+said.
+
+The man snorted. "Falling sidewise? Not likely, even here. I tell you,
+pal, I don't like this place. Nothing works right. There was no fuel for
+the 'copter we finished--the one we called Betsy Ann. But the little
+geezer who worked the smudgepot just walked up to it and wiggled his
+finger. 'Start your motor going, Betsy Ann,' he ordered with some other
+mumbo-jumbo. Then the motor roared and he and the engineer, took off at
+double the speed she could make on high-test gas. Hey, there it is
+again! Doesn't look like the Betsy Ann coming back, either."
+
+The something whizzed by again, in the other direction, but lower and
+slower. It made a gigantic but erratic circle beyond the sheds and
+swooped back. It looked nothing like a helicopter. It looked like a
+Hallowe'en decoration of a woman on a broomstick. As it came nearer,
+Hanson saw that it _was_ a woman on a broomstick, flying erratically.
+She straightened out in a flat glide.
+
+She came in for a one-point landing a couple of yards away. The tip of
+the broom handle hit the ground, and she went sailing over it, to land
+on her hands and knees. She got up, facing the shed.
+
+The woman was Nema. Her face was masklike, her eyes tortured. She was
+staring searchingly around her, looking at every man.
+
+"Nema!" Hanson cried.
+
+She spun to face him, and gasped. Her skin seemed to turn gray, and her
+eyes opened to double their normal size. She took one tottering step
+toward him and halted.
+
+"Illusion!" she whispered hoarsely, and slumped to the ground in a
+faint.
+
+She was reviving before he could raise her from the ground. She swayed a
+moment, staring at him. "You're not dead!"
+
+"What's so wonderful about that around here?" he asked, but not with
+much interest. With the world going to pot and only a few days left, the
+girl's face and the slim young body under it were about all the reality
+left worth thinking about. He grabbed for her, pulling her to him.
+Bertha had never made him feel like that.
+
+She managed to avoid his lips and slid away from him. "But they used the
+snetha-knife! Dave Hanson, you never died! It was only induced illusion
+by that--that Bork! And to think that I nearly died of grief while you
+were enjoying yourself here! You ... you mandrake-man!"
+
+He grunted. He'd almost managed to forget what he was, and he didn't
+enjoy having the aircraft worker find out. He turned to see what the
+reaction was, and then stared open-mouthed at his surroundings.
+
+There were no lights from the plane factory. In fact, there was no plane
+factory. In the half-light of the sky, he saw that the plant was gone.
+No men were left. There was only barren earth, with a tiny, limp sapling
+in the middle of empty acres.
+
+"What happened?"
+
+Nema glanced around briefly and sighed. "It's happening all over. They
+created the plane plant by the law of identities from that little plane
+tree sapling, I suppose; it is a plane plant, after all. But with the
+conjunctions and signs failing, all such creations are returning to
+their original form, unless a spell is used continually over them. Even
+then, sometimes, we fail. Most of the projects vanished after the sun
+fell."
+
+Hanson remembered the man with whom he'd been talking before Nema
+appeared. He'd have liked to know such a man before death and
+revivification had ruined him. It wasn't fair that anyone with character
+enough to be that human even as a zombie should be wiped out without
+even a moment's consideration. Then he remembered the man's own estimate
+of his current situation. Maybe he was better off returned to the death
+that had claimed him.
+
+Reluctantly, he returned to his own problems. "All right, then, if you
+thought I was dead, what are you doing here, Nema?"
+
+"I felt the compulsion begin even before I returned to the city. I
+thought I was going mad. I tried to forget you, but the compulsion grew
+until I could fight it no longer." She shuddered. "It was a terrible
+flight. The carpets will not work at all now, and I could hardly control
+the broom. Sometimes it wouldn't lift. Twice it sailed so high I could
+hardly breathe. And I had no hope of finding you, yet I went on. I've
+been flying when I could for three days now."
+
+Bork, of course, hadn't known of her spell with which she'd forced
+herself to want him "well and truly." Apparently it had gone on
+operating even when she thought he was dead, and with a built-in sense
+of his direction. Well, she was here--and he wasn't sorry.
+
+Hanson took another look across the plains toward the glowing hell of
+the horizon. He reached for her and pulled her to him. She was firm and
+sweet against him, and she was trembling in response to his urging.
+
+At the last moment she pulled back. "You forget yourself, Dave Hanson!
+I'm a registered and certified virgin. My blood is needed for--"
+
+"For spells that won't work anyhow," he told her harshly. "The sky isn't
+falling now, kid. It's down--or most of it."
+
+"But--" She hesitated and then let herself come a trifle closer. Her
+voice was doubtful. "It's true that our spells are failing. Not even the
+surest magic is reliable. The world has gone mad, and even magic is no
+longer trustworthy. But--"
+
+He was just pulling her close enough again and feeling her arms lift to
+his neck when the ground shook behind them and there was a sound of
+great, jarring, thudding steps.
+
+Hanson jerked around to see a great roc making its landing run, heading
+straight for them. The huge bird braked savagely, barely stopping before
+they were under its feet.
+
+From its back, a ladder of some flexible material snaked down and men
+began descending. The first were mandrakes in the uniform of the
+Satheri, all carrying weapons with evil-looking blades or sharp
+stickers.
+
+The last man off was Bork. He came toward Hanson and Nema with a broad
+grin on his face. "Greetings, Dave Hanson. You do manage to survive,
+don't you? And my little virgin sister, without whose flight I might not
+have found you. Well, come along. The roc's growing impatient!"
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+The great roc's hard-drumming wings set up a constant sound of rushing
+air and the distance flowed behind them. There was the rush of wind all
+around them, but on the bird's back they were in an area where
+everything seemed calm. Only when Hanson looked over toward the ground
+was he fully conscious of the speed they were making. From the height,
+he could see where the sun had landed. It was sinking slowly into the
+earth, lying in a great fused hole. For miles around, smaller drops of
+the three-mile-diameter sun had spattered and were etching deeper holes
+in the pitted landscape.
+
+Then they began passing over desolate country, scoured by winds, gloomy
+from the angry, glaring clouds above. Once, two bodies went hurtling
+upwards toward the great gaps in the sky.
+
+"Those risings were from men who were no worshippers of the egg's
+hatching," Bork commented. "It's spreading. Something is drawing them up
+from all over the planet."
+
+Later, half a square mile of the shell cracked off. The roc squawked
+harshly, but it had learned and had been watching above. By a frantic
+effort of the great wings, it missed the hurtling chunk. They dropped a
+few thousand feet in the winds that followed the piece of sky, but their
+altitude was still safe.
+
+Then they passed over a town, flying low. The sights below were out of a
+ghoul's bacchanalia. As the roc swept over, the people stopped their
+frenzied pursuit of sensation and ran for weapons. A cloud of arrows
+hissed upwards, all fortunately too late.
+
+"They blame all their troubles on the magicians," Bork explained.
+"They've been shooting at everything that flies. Not a happy time to
+associate with the Satheri, is it?"
+
+Nema drew further back from him. "We're not all cowards like you! Only
+rats desert a sinking ship."
+
+"Nobody thought it was sinking when I deserted," Bork reminded her.
+"Anyhow, if you'd been using your eyes and seen the way we are
+traveling, you'd know I've rejoined the crew. I've made up with the
+Sather Karf--and at a time like this, our great grandfather was glad to
+have me back!"
+
+Nema rushed toward him in delight, but Hanson wasn't convinced. "Why?"
+he asked.
+
+Bork sobered. "One of the corpses that fell back from the risings added
+a word to what the others had said. No, I'll bear the weight of it
+myself, and not burden you with it. But I'm convinced now that his egg
+should not hatch. I had doubts before, unlike our friend Malok, who also
+heard the words but is doubly the fanatic now. Perhaps the hatching
+cannot be stopped--but I've decided that I am a man and must fight like
+one against the fates. So, though I still oppose much that the Satheri
+have done, I've gone back to them. We'll be at the camp of the Sather
+Karf shortly."
+
+That sewed everything up neatly, Hanson thought. Before, he had been
+torn between two alternatives. Now there was only one and he had no
+choice; he could never trust the Sons of the Egg with Bork turned
+against them. He stared up at the sky, realizing that more than half of
+it had already fallen. The rest seemed too weak to last much longer. It
+probably didn't make much difference what he did now or who had him;
+time was running out for this world.
+
+The light was dimmer by the time they reached the great capital city--or
+what was left of it. They had left the sun pyre far to the south. The
+air was growing cold already.
+
+The roc flew low over the city. The few people on the streets looked up
+and made threatening gestures, but there was no flight of arrows from
+the ground. Probably the men below had lost even the strength to hate.
+It was hard to see, since there was no electric lighting system now. But
+it seemed to Hanson that only the oldest and ugliest buildings were
+still standing. Honest stone and metal could survive, but the work of
+magic was no longer safe.
+
+One of the remaining buildings seemed to be a hospital, and the empty
+space in front of it was crammed with people. Most of them seemed to be
+dead or unconscious. Squat mandrakes were carrying off bodies toward a
+great fire that was burning in another square. Plague and pestilence had
+apparently gotten out of hand.
+
+They flew on, beyond the city toward the construction camp that had been
+Hanson's headquarters. The roc was beginning to drop into a long landing
+glide, and details below were easier to see. Along the beach beyond the
+city, a crowd had collected. They had a fire going and were preparing to
+cook one of the mermaids. A fight was already going on over the prey.
+Food must have been exhausted days before.
+
+The camp was a mess when they reached it. One section had been ripped
+down by the lash of wind from a huge piece of the sky, which now lay
+among the ruins with a few stars glowing inside it. There was a
+brighter glow beyond. Apparently one blob of material from the sun had
+been tossed all the way here and had landed against a huge rock to
+spatter into fragments. The heat from those fragments cut through the
+chill in the air, and the glow furnished light for most of the camp.
+
+The tents had been burned, but there was a new building where the main
+tent had been. This was obviously a hasty construction job, thrown
+together of rocks and tree trunks, without the use of magic. It was more
+of an enormous lean-to than a true building, but it was the best
+protection now available. Hanson could see Sather Karf and Sersa Garm
+waiting outside, together with less than a hundred other warlocks.
+
+The mandrakes prodded Hanson down from the roc and toward the new
+building, then left at a wave of the Sather Karf's hand. The old man
+stared at Hanson intently, but his expression was unreadable. He seemed
+to have aged a thousand years. Finally he lifted his hand in faint
+greeting, sighed and dropped slowly to a seat. His face seemed to
+collapse, with the iron running out of it. He looked like a beaten, sick
+old man. His voice was toneless. "Fix the sky, Dave Hanson!"
+
+There were angry murmurs from other warlocks in the background, but
+Sather Karf shook his head slowly, still facing Hanson. "No--what good
+to threaten dire punishments or to torture you when another day or week
+will see the end of everything? What good to demand your reasons for
+desertion when time is so short? Fix the sky and claim what reward you
+will afterwards. We have few powers now that the basis of astrology is
+ruined. But repair our sky and we can reward you beyond your dreams. We
+can find ways to return you to your own world intact. You have near
+immortality now. We can fill that entire lifetime with pleasures. We'll
+give you jewels to buy an empire. Or if it is vengeance against whatever
+you feel we are, you shall know my secret name and the name of everyone
+here. Do with us then what you like. _But fix the sky!_"
+
+It shook Hanson. He had been prepared to face fury, or to try lying his
+way out if there was a chance with some story of having needed to study
+Menes's methods. Or of being lost. But he had no defense prepared
+against such an appeal.
+
+It was utterly mad. He could do nothing, and their demands were
+impossible. But before the picture of the world dying and the decay of
+the old Sather's pride, even Hanson's own probable death with the dying
+world seemed unimportant. He might at least give them something to hope
+for while the end came.
+
+"Maybe," he said slowly. "Maybe, if all of the men you brought here to
+work on the problem were to pool their knowledge, we might still find
+the answer. How long will it take to get them here for a council?"
+
+Ser Perth appeared from the group. Hanson had thought the man dead in
+the ruins of the pyramid, but somehow he had survived. The fat was going
+from his face, and his mustache was untrimmed, but he was uninjured. He
+shook his head sadly. "Most have disappeared with their projects. Two
+escaped us. Menes is dead. Cagliostro tricked us successfully. You are
+all we have left. And we can't even supply labor beyond those you see
+here. The people no longer obey us, since we have no food to give them."
+
+"You're the only hope," Bork agreed. "They've saved what they could of
+the tools from the camp and what magical instruments are still useful.
+They've held on only for your return."
+
+Hanson stared at them and around at the collection of bric-a-brac and
+machinery they had assembled for him. He opened his mouth, and his
+laughter was a mockery of their hopes and of himself.
+
+"Dave Hanson, world saver! You got the right name but the wrong man,
+Sather Karf," he said bitterly. He'd been a pretender long enough, and
+what punitive action they took now didn't seem to matter. "You wanted my
+uncle, David Arnold Hanson. But because his friends called him Dave and
+cut that name on his monument, and because I was christened by the name
+you called, you got me instead. He'd have been helpless here, probably,
+but with me you have no chance. I couldn't even build a doghouse. I
+wasn't even a construction engineer. Just a computer operator and
+repairman."
+
+He regretted ruining their hopes, almost as he said it. But he could see
+no change on the old Sather's face. It seemed to stiffen slightly and
+become more thoughtful, but there was no disappointment.
+
+"My grandson Bork told me all that," he said. "Yet your name was on the
+monument, and we drew you back by its use. Our ancient prophecy declared
+that we should find omnipotence carved on stone in a pool of water, as
+we found your name. Therefore, by the laws of rational magic, it is
+_you_ to whom nothing is impossible. We may have mistaken the direction
+of your talent, but nonetheless it is you who must fix the sky. What
+form of wonder is a computer?"
+
+Dave shook his head at the old man's monomania. "Just a tool. It's a
+little hard to explain, and it couldn't help."
+
+"Humor my curiosity, then. What is a computer, Dave Hanson?"
+
+Nema's hand rested on Hanson's arm pleadingly, and he shrugged. He
+groped about for some answer that could be phrased in their language,
+letting his mind flicker from the modern electronic gadgets back to the
+old-time tide predicter.
+
+"An analogue computer is a machine that ... that sets up conditions
+mathematically similar to the conditions in some problem and then lets
+all the operations proceed while it draws a graph--a prediction--of how
+the real conditions would turn out. If the tides change with the
+position of some heavenly body, then we can build cams that have shapes
+like the effect of the moon's orbit, and gear them together in the right
+order. If there are many factors, we have a cam for each factor, shaped
+like the periodic rise and fall of that factor. They're all geared to
+let the various factors operate at the proper relative rate. With such a
+machine, we can run off a graph of the tides for years ahead. Oh,
+hell--it's a lot more complicated than that, but it takes the basic
+facts and draws a picture of the results. We use electronic ones now,
+but the results are the same."
+
+"I understand," Sather Karf said. Dave doubted it, but he was happy to
+be saved from struggling with a more detailed explanation. And maybe the
+old man did understand some of it. He was no fool in his own subject,
+certainly. Sather Karf pondered for a moment, and then nodded with
+apparent satisfaction. "Your world was more advanced in understanding
+than I had thought. This computer is a fine scientific instrument,
+obeying natural law well. We have applied the same methods, though less
+elaborately. But the basic magical principle of similarity is the
+foundation of true science."
+
+Dave started to protest, and then stopped, frowning. In a way, what the
+other had said was true. Maybe there was some relation between science
+and magic, after all; there might even be a meeting ground between the
+laws of the two worlds he knew. Computers set up similar conditions,
+with the idea that the results would apply to the original. Magic used
+some symbolic part of a thing in manipulations that were to be effective
+for the real thing. The essential difference was that science was
+predictive and magic was effective--though the end results were often
+the same. On Dave's world, the cardinal rule of logic was that the
+symbol was not the thing--and work done on symbols had to be translated
+by hard work into reality. Maybe things were really more logical here
+where the symbol was the thing, and all the steps in between thought and
+result were saved.
+
+"So we are all at fault," Sather Karf said finally. "We should have
+studied you more deeply and you should have been more honest with us.
+Then we could have obtained a computer for you and you could have
+simulated our sky as it should be within your computer and forced it to
+be repaired long ago. But there's no time for regrets now. We cannot
+help you, so you must help yourself. Build a computer, Dave Hanson!"
+
+"It's impossible."
+
+Sudden rage burned on the old man's face, and he came to his feet. His
+arm jerked back and snapped forward. Nothing happened. He grimaced at
+the ruined sky. "Dave Hanson," he cried sharply, "by the unfailing power
+of your name which is all of you, I hold you in my mind and your throat
+is in my hand--"
+
+The old hands squeezed suddenly, and Hanson felt a vise clamp down
+around his throat. He tried to break free, but there was no escape. The
+old man mumbled, and the vise was gone, but something clawed at Hanson's
+liver. Something else rasped across his sciatic nerve. His kidneys
+seemed to be wrenched out of him.
+
+"You will build a computer," Sather Karf ordered. "And you _will_ save
+our world!"
+
+Hanson staggered from the shock of the pain, but he was no longer unused
+to agony. He had spent too many hours under the baking of the sun, the
+agony of the snetha-knife and the lash of an overseer's whip. The agony
+could not be stopped, but he'd learned it could be endured. His
+fantastic body could heal itself against whatever they did to him, and
+his mind refused to accept the torture supinely. He took a step toward
+Sather Karf, and another. His hands came up as he moved forward.
+
+Bork laughed suddenly. "Let up, Sather Karf, or you'll regret it. By the
+laws, you're dealing with a _man_ this time. Let up, or I'll free him to
+meet you fairly."
+
+The old man's eyes blazed hotly. Then he sighed and relaxed. The
+clutching hands and the pain were gone from Hanson as the Sather Karf
+slumped back wearily to his seat.
+
+"Fix our sky," the old man said woodenly.
+
+Hanson staggered back, panting from his efforts. But he nodded. "All
+right," he agreed. "Like Bork, I think a man has to fight against his
+fate, no matter how little chance he has. I'll do what I can. I'll build
+the damned computer. But when I'm finished, I'll wait for _your_ true
+name!"
+
+Suddenly Sather Karf laughed. "Well said, Dave Hanson. You'll have my
+name when the time comes. And whatever else you desire. Also what poor
+help we can give you now. Ser Perth, bring food for Dave Hanson!"
+
+Ser Perth shook his head sadly. "There is none. None at all. We hoped
+that the remaining planets would find a favorable conjunction, but--"
+
+Dave Hanson studied his helpers with more bitterness. "Oh, hell!" he
+said at last. He snapped his fingers. "Abracadabra!"
+
+His skill must be improving, since he got exactly what he had wished
+for. A full side of beef materialized against his palm, almost breaking
+his arm before he could snap it out of the way. The others swarmed
+hungrily toward it. At their expressions of wonder, Hanson felt more
+confidence returning to him. He concentrated and went through the little
+ritual again. This time loaves of bread rained down--fresh bread, and
+even of the brand he had wished for. Maybe he was becoming a magician
+himself, with a new magic that might still accomplish something.
+
+Sather Karf smiled approvingly. "The theory of resonance, I see.
+Unreliable generally. More of an art than a science. But you show
+promise of remarkable natural ability to apply it."
+
+"You know about it?" Dave had assumed that it was completely outside
+their experience and procedures.
+
+"We _knew_ it. But when more advanced techniques took over, most of us
+forgot it. The syllables resonate in a sound pattern with your world, to
+which you also still resonate. It won't work for you with anything from
+this world, nor will anything work thus for us from yours. We had
+different syllables, of course, for use here." Sather Karf considered
+it. "But if you can control it and bring in one of your computers or the
+parts for one--"
+
+Sixteen tries later, Dave was cursing as he stared at a pile of useless
+items. He'd gotten transistors at first. Then he lost control with too
+much tension or fatigue and began getting a bunch of assorted junk, such
+as old 201-A tubes, a transit, a crystal vase and resistors. But the
+chief trouble was that he couldn't secure working batteries. He had
+managed a few, but all were dead.
+
+"Like the soul, electrical charges will not transfer," Sather Karf
+agreed sadly. "I should have told you that."
+
+There was no electricity here with which to power anything, and their
+spells could not be made to work now. Even if he could build a computer
+out of what was obtainable, there would be no way to power it.
+
+Overhead, the sky shattered with a roar, and another piece fell, tearing
+downwards toward the city. Sersa Garm stared upwards in horror.
+
+"Mars!" he croaked. "Mars has fallen. Now can there be no conjunction
+ever!"
+
+He tautened and his body rose slowly from the ground. A scream ripped
+from his lips and faded away as he began rushing upwards with increasing
+speed. He passed but of their sight, straight toward the new hole in the
+sky.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+In the hours that followed, Dave's vague plans changed a dozen times as
+he found each idea unworkable. His emotional balance was also
+erratic--though that was natural, since the stars were completely
+berserk in what was left of the sky. He seemed to fluctuate between
+bitter sureness of doom and a stupidly optimistic belief that something
+could be done to avert that doom. But whatever his mood, he went on
+working and scheming furiously. Maybe it was the desperate need to keep
+himself occupied that drove him, or perhaps it was the pleading he saw
+in the eyes around him. In the end, determination conquered his
+pessimism.
+
+Somewhere in the combination of the science he had learned in his own
+world and the technique of magic that applied here there had to be an
+answer--or a means to hold back the end of the world until an answer
+could be found.
+
+The biggest problem was the number of factors with which he had to deal.
+There were seven planets and the sun, and three thousand fixed stars.
+All had to be ordered in their courses, and the sky had to be complete
+in his calculations.
+
+He had learned his trade where the answer was always to add one more
+circuit in increasing complexity. Now he had to think of the simplest
+possible similarity computer. Electronics was out, obviously. He tried
+to design a set of cams, like the tide machine, to make multiple
+tracings on paper similar to a continuous horoscope, but finally gave
+it up. They couldn't build the parts, even if there had been time.
+
+He had to depend on what was available, since magic couldn't produce any
+needed device and since the people here had depended on magic too long
+to develop the other necessary skills. When only the broadest powers of
+magic remained, they were hopeless. Names were still potent, resonance
+worked within its limits, and the general principles of similarity still
+applied; but those were not enough for them. They depended too heavily
+on the second great principle of contagion, and that seemed to be
+wrapped up with some kind of association through the signs and houses
+and the courses of the planets.
+
+He found himself thinking in circles of worry and pulled himself back to
+his problem. Normally, a computer was designed for flexibility and to
+handle varying conditions. This one could be designed to handle only one
+set of factors. It had to duplicate the courses of the objects in their
+sky and simulate the general behavior of the dome. It was not necessary
+to allow for all theoretical courses, but only for the normal orbits.
+
+And finally he realized that he was thinking of a model--the one thing
+which is functionally the perfect analogue.
+
+It brought him back to magic again. Make a doll like a man and stick
+pins in it--and the man dies. Make a model of the universe within the
+sky, and any changes in that should change reality. The symbol was the
+thing, and a model was obviously a symbol.
+
+He began trying to plan a model with three thousand stars in their
+orbits, trying to find some simple way of moving them. The others
+watched in fascination. They apparently felt that the diagrams he was
+drawing were some kind of scientific spell. Ser Perth was closer than
+the others, studying the marks he made. The man suddenly pointed to his
+computations.
+
+"Over and over I find the figure seven and the figure three thousand. I
+assume that the seven represents the planets. But what is the other
+figure?"
+
+"The stars," Hanson told him impatiently.
+
+Ser Perth shook his head. "That is wrong. There were only two thousand
+seven hundred and eighty-one before the beginnings of our trouble."
+
+"And I suppose you've got the exact orbits of every one?" Hanson asked.
+He couldn't see that the difference was going to help much.
+
+"Naturally. They are fixed stars, which means they move with the sky.
+Otherwise, why call them fixed stars? Only the sun and the planets move
+through the sky. The stars move with the sky over the world as a unity."
+
+Dave grunted at his own stupidity. That really simplified things, since
+it meant only one control for all of them and the sky itself. But
+designing a machine to handle the planets and the sun, while a lot
+simpler, was still a complex problem. With time, it would have been easy
+enough, but there was no time for trial and error.
+
+He ripped up his plans and began a new set. He'd need a glass sphere
+with dots on it for the stars, and some kind of levers to move the
+planets and sun. It would be something like the orreries he'd seen used
+for demonstrations of planetary movement.
+
+Ser Perth came over again, staring down at the sketch. He drowned in
+doubt. "Why waste time drawing such engines? If you want a model to
+determine how the orbits should be, we have the finest orrery ever built
+here in the camp. We brought it with us when we moved, since it would be
+needed to determine how the sky should be repaired and to bring the time
+and the positions into congruence. Wait!"
+
+He dashed off, calling two of the mandrakes after him. In a few minutes,
+they staggered back under a bulky affair in a protective plastic case.
+Ser Perth stripped off the case to reveal the orrery to Hanson.
+
+It was a beautiful piece of workmanship. There was an enormous sphere of
+thin crystal to represent the sky. Precious gems showed the stars,
+affixed to the dome. The whole was nearly eight feet in diameter. Inside
+the crystal, Hanson could see a model of the world on jeweled-bearing
+supports. The planets and the sun were set on tracks around the outside,
+with a clockwork drive mechanism that moved them by means of stranded
+spiderweb cords. Power came from weights, like those used on an
+old-fashioned clock. It was obviously all hand work, which must make it
+a thing of tremendous value here.
+
+"Sather Fareth spent his life designing this," Ser Perth said proudly.
+"It is so well designed that it can show the position of all things for
+a thousand centuries in the past or future by turning these cranks on
+the control, or it will hold the proper present positions for years from
+its own engine."
+
+"It's beautiful workmanship," Hanson told him. "As good as the best done
+on my world."
+
+Ser Perth went away, temporarily pleased with himself, and Hanson stood
+staring at the model. It was as good as he'd said it was--and completely
+damning to all of his theories and hopes. No model he could make would
+equal it. But in spite of it and all its precise analogy to the universe
+around him, the sky was still falling in shattered bits!
+
+Sather Karf and Bork had come over to join Hanson. They waited
+expectantly, but Hanson could think of nothing to do. It had already
+been done--and had failed. The old man dropped a hand on his shoulder.
+There was the weight of all his centuries on the Sather, yet a curious
+toughness showed through his weariness. "What is wrong with the orrery?"
+he asked.
+
+"Nothing--nothing at all, damn it!" Hanson told him. "You wanted a
+computer--and you've got it. You can feed in data as to the hour, day,
+month and year, turn the cranks, and the planets there will turn to
+their proper position exactly as the real planets should run. You don't
+need to read the results off graph paper. What more could any analogue
+computer do? But it doesn't influence the sky."
+
+"It was never meant to," the old man said, surprise in his voice. "Such
+power--"
+
+Then he stopped, staring at Hanson while something almost like awe
+spread over his face. "Yet ... the prophecy and the monument were right!
+You have unlocked the impossible! Yet you seem to know nothing of the
+laws of similarity or of magic, Dave Hanson. Is that crystal similar to
+the sky, by association, by contagion, or by true symbolism? A part may
+be a symbol for the whole--or so may any designated symbol, which may
+influence the thing it is. If I have a hair from your head, I can model
+you with power over you. But not with the hair of a pig! That is no true
+symbol!"
+
+"Suppose we substituted bits of the real thing for these
+representations?" Hanson asked.
+
+Bork nodded. "It might work. I've heard you found the sky material could
+be melted, and we've got enough of that where it struck the camp. Any
+one of us who has studied elementary alchemy could blow a globe of it to
+the right size for the sky dome. And there are a few stars from which we
+can chip pieces enough. We can polish them and put them into the sphere
+where they belong. And it will be risky, but we may even be able to
+shape a bit of the sun stuff to represent the great orb in the sky."
+
+"What about the planets?" Hanson was beginning to feel the depression
+lift. "You might get a little of Mars, since it fell near here, but that
+still leaves the other six."
+
+"That long associated with a thing achieves the nature of the thing,"
+Sather Karf intoned, as if giving a lesson to a kindergarten student.
+"With the right colors, metals and bits of jewels--as well as more
+secret symbols--we can simulate the planets. Yet they cannot be
+suspended above the dome, as in this orrery--they must be within the
+sky, as in nature."
+
+"How about putting some iron in each and using a magnet on the control
+tracks to move the planets?" Hanson suggested. "Or does cold iron ruin
+your conjuring here?"
+
+Sather Karf snorted in obvious disgust, but Bork only grinned. "Why
+should it? You must have heard peasant superstitions. Still, you'd have
+a problem if two tracks met, as they do. The magnets would then affect
+both planets alike. Better make two identical planets for each--and two
+suns--and put one on your track controls. Then one must follow the
+other, though the one remain within the sky."
+
+Hanson nodded. He'd have to shield the cord from the sun stuff, but that
+could be done. He wondered idly whether the real universe was going to
+wind up with tracks beyond the sky on which little duplicate planets
+ran--just how much similarity would there be between model and reality
+when this was done, if it worked at all? It probably didn't matter, and
+it could hardly be worse than whatever the risers had run into beyond
+the hole in the present sky. Metaphysics was a subject with which he
+wasn't yet fully prepared to cope.
+
+The model of the world inside the orrery must have been made from
+earthly materials already, and it was colored to depict land and sea
+areas. It could probably be used. At their agreement, he nodded with
+some satisfaction. That should save some time, at least. He stared
+doubtfully at the rods and bearings that supported the model world in
+the center of the orrery.
+
+"What about those things? How do we hold the globe in the center of
+everything?"
+
+Bork shrugged. "It seems simple enough. We'll fashion supports of more
+of the sky material."
+
+"And have real rods sticking up from the poles in the real universe?"
+Hanson asked sarcastically.
+
+"Why not?" Bork seemed surprised at Hanson's tone. "There have always
+been such columns connecting the world and the sky. What else would keep
+us from falling?"
+
+Hanson swore. He might have guessed it! The only wonder was that simple
+rods were used instead of elephants and turtles. And the doubly-damned
+fools had let Menes drive millions of slaves to death to build a pyramid
+to the sky when there were already natural columns that could have been
+used!
+
+"There remains only one step," Sather Karf decided after a moment more.
+"To make symbol and thing congruent, all must be invoked with the true
+and secret name of the universe."
+
+Hanson suddenly remembered legends of the tetragrammaton and the tales
+of magic he'd read in which there was always one element lacking. "And I
+suppose nobody knows that or dares to use it?"
+
+There was hurt pride of the aged face and the ring of vast authority in
+his voice. "Then you suppose wrong, Dave Hanson! Since this world first
+came out of Duality, a Sather Karf has known that mystery! Make your
+device and I shall not fail in the invocation!"
+
+For the first time, Hanson discovered that the warlocks could work when
+they had to, however much they disliked it. And at their own
+specialties, they were superb technicians. Under the orders of Sather
+Karf, the camp sprang into frenzied but orderly activity.
+
+They lost a few mandrakes in prying loose some of the sun material, and
+more in getting a small sphere of it shaped. But the remainder gave them
+the heat to melt the sky stuff. When it came to glass blowing, Hanson
+had to admit they were experts; it should have come as no surprise,
+after the elaborate alchemical apparatus he'd seen. Once the crystal
+shell was cracked out of the orrery, a fat-faced Ser came in with a long
+tube and began working the molten sky material, getting the feel of it.
+He did things Hanson knew were nearly impossible, and he did them with
+the calm assurance of an expert. Even when another rift in the sky
+appeared with a crackling of thunder, there was no faltering on his
+part. The sky shell and world supports were blown into shape around the
+world model inside the outer tracks in one continuous operation. The Ser
+then clipped the stuff from his tube and sealed the tiny opening
+smoothly with a bit of sun material on the end of a long metal wand.
+
+"Interesting material," he commented, as if only the technical nature of
+the stuff had offered any problem to him.
+
+Tiny, carefully polished chips from the stars were ready, and men began
+placing them delicately on the shell. They sank into it at once and
+began twinkling. The planets had also been prepared, and they also went
+into the shell, while a mate to each was attached to the tracking
+mechanism. The tiny sun came last. Hanson fretted as he saw it sink into
+the shell, sure it would begin to melt the sky material. It seemed to
+have no effect, however; apparently the sun was not supposed to melt the
+sky when it was in place--so the little sun didn't melt the shell. Once
+he was sure of that, he used a scrap of the sky to insulate the second
+little sun that would control the first sympathetically from the track.
+He moved the control delicately by hand, and the little sun followed
+dutifully.
+
+The weights on the control mechanism were in place, Hanson noted.
+Someone would probably have to keep them wound from now on, unless they
+could devise a foolproof motor. But that was for the future. He bent to
+the hand cranks. Sather Karf was being called to give the exact settings
+for this moment, but Hanson had a rough idea of where the planets should
+be. He began turning the crank, just as the Sather came up.
+
+There was a slight movement. Then the crank stuck, and there was a
+whirring of slipping gears! The fools who had moved the orrery must have
+been so careless that they'd sprung the mechanism. He bent down to study
+the tiny little jeweled gears. A whole gear train was out of place!
+
+Sather Karf was also inspecting it, and the words he cried didn't sound
+like an invocation, though they were strange enough. He straightened,
+still cursing. "Fix it!"
+
+"I'll try," Hanson agreed doubtfully. "But you'd better get the man who
+made this. He'll know better than I--"
+
+"He was killed in the first cracking of the sky when a piece hit him.
+Fix it, Dave Hanson. You claimed to be a repairman for such devices."
+
+Hanson bent to study it again, using a diamond lens one of the warlocks
+handed him. It was a useful device, having about a hundred times
+magnification without the need for exact focusing. He stared at the
+jumble of fine gears, then glanced out through the open front: of the
+building toward the sky. There was even less of it showing than he had
+remembered. Most of the great dome was empty. And now there were
+suggestions of ... shadows ... in the empty spots. He looked away
+hastily, shaken.
+
+"I'll need some fine tools," he said.
+
+"They were lost in moving this," Ser Perth told him. "This is the best
+we can do."
+
+The jumble of tools had obviously been salvaged from the kits on the
+tractors in the camp. There was one fairly small pair of pliers, a small
+pick and assorted useless junk. He shook his head hopelessly.
+
+"Fix it!" Sather Karf ordered again. The old man's eyes were also on the
+sky. "You have ten minutes, perhaps--no more."
+
+Hanson's fingers steadied as he found bits of wire and began improvising
+tools to manipulate the tiny gears. The mechanism was a piece of superb
+craftsmanship that should have lasted for a million years, but it had
+never been meant to withstand the heavy shock of being dropped, as it
+must have been. And there was very little space inside. It should have
+been disassembled and put back piece by piece, but there was no time for
+that.
+
+Another thunder of falling sky sounded, and the ground heaved.
+"Earthquakes!" Sather Karf whispered. "The end is near!"
+
+Then a shout went up, and Hanson jerked his eyes from the gears to focus
+on a group of rocs that were landing at the far end of the camp. Men
+were springing from their backs before they stopped running--men in
+dull robes with elaborate masks over their faces. At the front was
+Malok, leader of the Sons of the Egg, brandishing his knife.
+
+His voice carried clearly. "The egg hatches! To the orrery and smash it!
+That was the shadow in the pool. Destroy it before Dave Hanson can
+complete his magic!"
+
+The men behind him yelled. Around Hanson, the magicians cried out in
+shocked fear. Then old Sather Karf was dashing out from under the cover
+of the building, brandishing a pole on which a drop of the sun-stuff was
+glowing. His voice rose into a command that rang out over the cries of
+the others.
+
+Dave reached for a heavy hammer, meaning to follow. The old Sather
+seemed to sense it without looking back. "Fix the engine, Dave Hanson,"
+he called.
+
+It made sense. The others could do the fighting, but only he had
+training with such mechanisms. He turned back to his work, just as the
+warlocks began rallying behind Sather Karf, grabbing up what weapons
+they could find. There was no magic in this fight. Sticks, stones,
+hammers and knives were all that remained workable.
+
+Dave Hanson bent over the gears, cursing. Now there was another rumble
+of thunder from the falling sky. The half-light from the reflected
+sunlight dimmed, and the ground shook violently. Another set of gears
+broke from the housing. Hanson caught up a bit of sun-stuff on the sharp
+point of the awl and brought it closer, until it burned his hands. But
+he had seen enough. The mechanism was ruined beyond his chance to repair
+it in time.
+
+He slapped the cover shut and stuck the sun-tipped awl where it would
+light as much of the orrery as possible. As always, the skills of his
+own world had failed. To the blazes with it, then--when in magic land,
+magic had to do.
+
+He thought of calling Ser Perth or Sather Karf, but there was no time
+for that, and they could hardly have heard him over the sounds of the
+desperate fight going on.
+
+He bent to the floor, searching until he found a ball of the sky
+material that had been pinched off when the little opening was sealed.
+Further hunting gave him a few bits of dust from the star bits and some
+of the junk that had gone into shaping the planets. He brushed in some
+dirt from the ground that had been touched by the sun stuff and was
+still glowing faintly. He wasn't at all sure of how much he could
+extrapolate from what he'd read in the book on Applied Semantics, but he
+knew he needed a control--a symbol of the symbol, in this case. It was
+crude, but it might serve to represent the orrery.
+
+He clutched it in his hand and touched it against the orrery, trying to
+remember the formula for the giving of a true name. He had to improvise,
+but he got through a rough version of it, until he came to the end: "I
+who created you name you--" What the deuce did he name it? "I name you
+Rumpelstilsken and order you to obey me when I call you by your name."
+
+He clutched the blob of material tighter in his hand, mentally trying to
+shape an order that wouldn't backfire, as such orders seemed to in the
+childhood stories of magic he had learned. Finally his lips whispered
+the simplest order he could find. "Rumpelstilsken, repair yourself!"
+
+There was a whirring and scraping inside the mechanism, and Hanson let
+out a yell. He got only a hasty glimpse of gears that seemed to be back
+on their tracks before Sather Karf was beside him, driving the cranks
+with desperate speed.
+
+"We have less than a minute!" the old voice gasped.
+
+The Sather's fingers spun on the controls. Then he straightened, moving
+his hands toward the orrery in passes too rapid to be seen. There was a
+string of obvious ritual commands in their sacred language. Then a
+single word rang out, a string of sounds that should have come from no
+human vocal chords.
+
+There was a wrench and twist through every atom of Hanson's body. The
+universe seemed to cry out. Over the horizon, a great burning disc rose
+and leaped toward the heavens as the sun went back to its place in the
+sky. The big bits of sky-stuff around also jerked upwards, revealing
+themselves by the wind they whipped up and by the holes they ripped
+through the roof of the building. Hanson clutched at the scrap he had
+pocketed, but it showed no sign of leaving, and the tiny blob of
+sun-stuff remained fixed to the awl.
+
+Through the diamond lens, Hanson could see the model of the world in the
+orrery changing. There were clouds apparently painted on it where no
+clouds had been. And there was an indication of movement in the green of
+the forests and the blue of the oceans, as if trees were whipping in the
+wind and waves lapping the shores.
+
+When he jerked his eyes upward, all seemed serene in the sky. Sunlight
+shone normally on the world, and from under the roof he could see the
+gaudy blue of sky, complete, with the cracks in it smoothing out as he
+watched.
+
+The battle outside had stopped with the rising of the sun. Half the
+warlocks were lying motionless, and the other half had clustered
+together, close to the building where Hanson and Sather Karf stood. The
+Sons of the Egg seemed to have suffered less, since they greatly
+out-numbered the others, but they were obviously more shocked by the
+rising of the sun and the healing of the sky.
+
+Then Malok's voice rang out sharply. "It isn't stable yet! Destroy the
+machine! The egg must hatch!"
+
+He leaped forward, brandishing his knife, while the Sons of the Egg fell
+in behind him. The warlocks began to close ranks, falling back to make a
+stand under the jutting edge of the roof, where they could protect the
+orrery. Bork and Ser Perth were among them, bloody but hopelessly
+determined.
+
+One look at Sather Karf's expression was enough to convince Hanson that
+Malok had cried the truth and that their work could still be undone. And
+it was obvious that the warlocks could never stand the charge of the
+Sons. Too many of them had already been killed, and there was no time
+for reviving them.
+
+Sather Karf was starting forward into the battle, but Hanson made no
+move to follow. He snapped the diamond lens to his eye and his fingers
+caught at the drop of sun-stuff on the awl. He had to hold it near the
+glowing bit for steadiness, and it began searing his fingers. He forced
+control on his muscles and plunged his hand slowly through the sky
+sphere, easing the glowing blob downward toward the spot on the globe he
+had already located with the lens. His thumb and finger moved downward
+delicately, with all the skill of practice at working with nearly
+invisibly fine wires on delicate instruments.
+
+Then he jerked his eyes away from the model and looked out. Something
+glaring and hot was suspended in the air five miles away. He moved his
+hand carefully, steadying it on one of the planet tracks. The glowing
+fire in the air outside moved another mile closer--then another. And
+now, around it, he could see a monstrous fingertip and something that
+might have been miles of thumbnail.
+
+The warlocks leaped back under the roof. The Sons of the Egg screamed
+and panicked. Jerking horribly, the monstrous thing moved again. For
+part of a second, it hovered over the empty camp. Then it was gone.
+
+Hanson began pulling his hand out through the shell of the model,
+whimpering as his other hand clenched against the blob in his pocket. He
+had suddenly realized what horrors were possible to anyone who could use
+the orrery now. "Rumpelstilsken, I command you to let no hand other than
+mine enter and to respond to no other controls." He hoped it would offer
+enough protection.
+
+His hand came free and he threw the sun-bit away with a flick of his
+wrist. His hand ached with the impossible task of steadiness he had set
+it, and his finger and thumb burned and smoked. But the wound was
+already healing.
+
+In the exposed section of the camp, the Sons of the Egg were charred
+corpses. There was a fire starting on the roof of the building, but
+others had already run out to quench that. It sounded like the snuffling
+progress of an undine across the roof! Maybe magic was working again.
+
+Bork turned back from the sight of his former companions. His face was
+sick, but he managed to grin at Hanson. "Dave Hanson, to whom nothing is
+impossible," he said.
+
+Hanson had located Nema finally as she approached. He caught her hand
+and grabbed Bork's arm. Like his own, it was trembling with fatigue and
+reaction.
+
+"Come on," he said. "Let's find some place where we can see whether it's
+impossible now for you to magic up a decent meal. And a drink strong
+enough to scare away the sylphs."
+
+The sylph that found them wasn't scared by the Scotch, but there was
+enough for all of them.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+Three days can work magic--in a world where magic works. The planets
+swung along their paths again and the sun was in the most favorable
+house for conjuration. The universe was stable again.
+
+There was food for all, and houses had been conjured hastily to shelter
+the people. The plagues were gone. Now the strange commerce and industry
+of this world were humming again. Those who had survived and those who
+could be revived were busily rebuilding. Some were missing, of course.
+Those who had risen and--hatched--were beyond recall, but no one spoke
+of them. If any Sons of the Egg survived, they were quiet in their
+defeat.
+
+Hanson had been busy during most of the time. It had been taken for
+granted that he would tend to the orrery, setting it for the most
+favorable conditions when some special major work of magic required it,
+and he had taken the orders and moved the controls as they wanted them.
+The orrery was housed temporarily in the reconstituted hall of the
+Satheri in the capital city. They were building a new hall for it, to be
+constructed only of natural materials and hand labor, but that was a
+project that would take long months still.
+
+Now the immediate pressure was gone, and Hanson was relaxing with Bork
+and Nema.
+
+"Another week," Bork was saying. "Maybe less. And then gangs of the
+warlocks can spread out to fix up all the rest of the world--and to take
+over control of their slaves again. Are you happy with your victory,
+Dave Hanson?"
+
+Hanson shrugged. He wasn't entirely sure, now. There was something in
+the looks of the Sather who gave him orders for new settings that
+bothered him. And some of the developments he watched were hardly what
+he would have preferred. The warlocks had good memories, it seemed, and
+there had been manifold offenses against them while the world was
+falling apart.
+
+He tried to put it out of his mind as he drew Nema to him. She snuggled
+against him, admiring him with her eyes. But old habits were hard to
+break. "Don't, Dave. I'm a registered and certified--"
+
+She stopped then, blushing, and Bork chuckled.
+
+Ser Perth appeared at the doorway with two of the mandrakes. He motioned
+to Hanson. "The council of Satheri want you," he said. His eyes avoided
+the other, and he seemed uncomfortable.
+
+"Why?" Bork asked.
+
+"It's time for Dave Hanson's reward," Ser Perth said. The words were
+smooth enough, but the eyes turned away again.
+
+Hanson got up and moved forward. He had been wondering when they would
+get around to this. Beside him, Bork and Nema also rose. "Never trust a
+Sather," Bork said softly.
+
+Nema started to protest, then changed her mind. She frowned, torn
+between old and new loyalties.
+
+"The summons was only for Dave Hanson," Ser Perth said sternly as the
+three drew up to him. But as Hanson took the arms of the other two, the
+Ser shrugged and fell in behind. Very softly, too low for the hearing of
+the mandrakes, his words sounded in Hanson's ear. "Guard yourself, Dave
+Hanson!"
+
+So there was to be treachery, Hanson thought. He wasn't surprised. He
+was probably lucky to have even three friends. The Satheri would hardly
+feel very grateful to a mandrake-man who had accomplished something
+beyond their power, now that the crisis was over. They had always been a
+high-handed bunch, apparently, and he had served his purpose. But he
+covered his thoughts in a neutral expression and went forward quietly
+toward the huge council room.
+
+The seventy leading Satheri were all present, with Sather Karf
+presiding, when Hanson was ushered into their presence. He moved down
+the aisle, not glancing at the seated Satheri, until he was facing the
+old man, drawing Nema and Bork with him. There were murmurs of protest,
+but nobody stopped him. Above him, the eyes of Sather Karf were
+uncertain. For a moment, there seemed to be a touch of friendliness and
+respect in them, but there was something else that Hanson liked far
+less. Any warmth that was there vanished at his first words.
+
+"It's about time," Hanson said flatly. "When you wanted your world
+saved, you were free enough with offers of reward. But three days have
+passed without mention of it. Sather Karf, I demand your secret name!"
+
+He heard Nema gasp, but felt Bork's fingers press against his arm
+reassuringly. There was a rising mutter of shock and anger from the
+others, but he lifted his voice over it. "And the secret names of all
+those present. That was also part of the promised reward."
+
+"And do you think you could use the names, Dave Hanson?" Sather Karf
+asked. "Against the weight of all our knowledge, do you think you could
+become our master that easily?"
+
+Hanson had his own doubts. There were counter-magical methods against
+nearly all magic, and the book he had read had been only an elementary
+one. But he nodded. "I think with your name I could get my hands on your
+hearts, even if you did your worst. It doesn't matter. I claim my
+reward."
+
+"And you shall have it. The word of Sather Karf is good," the old man
+told him. "But there was no mention of when you would be given those
+names. You said that when the computer was finished you would _wait_ for
+my true name, and I promised that you should have it when the time came,
+but not what the time would be. So you will wait, or the agreement shall
+be broken by you, not by me. When you are dying or otherwise beyond
+power over us, you shall have the names, Dave Hanson. No, hear me!"
+
+He lifted his hand in a brief gesture and Hanson felt a thickness over
+his lips that made speech impossible.
+
+"We have discussed your reward, and you shall indeed have it," Sather
+Karf went on. "Exactly as I promised it to you. I agreed to find ways to
+return you to your own world intact, and you shall be returned."
+
+For a moment, the thickness seemed to relax, and Hanson choked a few
+words out through it. "What's the world of a mandrake-man, Sather Karf?
+A mandrake swamp?"
+
+"For a mandrake-man, yes. But not for you." There was something like
+amusement in the old man's voice. "I never said you were a mandrake-man.
+That was told you by Ser Perth who knew no better. No, Dave Hanson, you
+were too important to us for that. Mandrake-men are always less than
+true men, and we needed your best. You were conjured atom by atom, id
+and ka and soul, from your world. Even the soul may be brought over
+when enough masters of magic work together and you were our greatest
+conjuration. Even then, we almost failed. But you're no mandrake-man."
+
+A load of sickness seemed to leave Hanson's mind. He had never fully
+realized how much the shame of what he thought himself to be had weighed
+on him. Then his mind adjusted to the new facts, dismissing his past
+worries.
+
+"I promised you that we would fill your entire lifetime with pleasures,"
+Sather Karf went on. "And you were assured of jewels to buy an empire.
+All this the council is prepared to give you. Are you ready for your
+reward?"
+
+"No!" Bork's cry broke out before Hanson could answer. The big man was
+writhing before he could finish the word, but his own fingers were
+working in conjurations that seemed to hold back enough of the spells
+against him to let him speak. "Dave Hanson, your world was a world of
+rigid laws. You died there. And there would be no magic to avoid the
+fact that there you must always be dead."
+
+Hanson's eyes riveted on the face of Sather Karf. The old man looked
+back and finally nodded his head. "That is true," he admitted. "It would
+have been kinder for you not to know, but it is the truth."
+
+"And jewels enough to buy an empire on a corpse," Hanson accused. "A
+lifetime of pleasures--simple enough when that lifetime would be over
+before it began. What were the pleasures, Sather Karf? Having you reveal
+your name just before I was sent back and feeling I'd won?" He grimaced.
+"I reject the empty rewards of your empty promises!"
+
+"I also rejected the interpretation, but I was out-voted," Sather Karf
+said, and there was a curious reluctance as he raised his hand. "But it
+is too late. Dave Hanson prepare to receive your reward. By the power of
+your name--"
+
+Hanson's hand went to his pocket and squeezed down on the blob of sky
+material there. He opened his mouth, and found that the thickness was
+back. For a split second, his mind screamed in panic as he realized he
+could not even pronounce the needed words.
+
+Then coldness settled over his thoughts as he drove them to shape the
+unvoiced words in his mind. Nobody had told him that magic incantations
+had to be pronounced aloud. It seemed to be the general law, but for all
+he knew, ignorance of the law here might change the law. At least he
+meant to die trying, if he failed.
+
+"Rumpelstilsken, I command the sun to set!"
+
+He seemed to sense a hesitation in his mind, and then the impression of
+jeweled gears turning. Outside the window, the light reddened, dimmed,
+and was gone, leaving the big room illuminated by only a few witch
+lights.
+
+The words Sather Karf had been intoning came to a sudden stop, even
+before they could be drowned in the shouts of shock and panic from the
+others. His eyes centered questioningly on Hanson and the flicker of a
+smile crossed his face. "To the orrery!" he ordered. "Use the manual
+controls."
+
+Hanson waited until he estimated the men who left would be at the
+controls. The he clutched the sky-blob again. The thoughts in his mind
+were clearer this time.
+
+"Rumpelstilsken, let the sun rise from the west and set in the east!"
+
+Some of the Satheri were at the windows to watch what happened this
+time. Their shouts were more frightened than before. A minute later, the
+others were back, screaming out the news that the manual controls could
+not be moved--could not even be touched.
+
+The orrery named Rumpelstilsken was obeying its orders fully, and the
+universe was obeying its symbol.
+
+Somehow, old Sather Karf brought order out of the frightened mob that
+had been the greatest Satheri in the world. "All right, Dave Hanson," he
+said calmly. "Return the sun to its course. We agree to your
+conditions."
+
+"You haven't heard them yet!"
+
+"Nevertheless," Sather Karf answered firmly, "we agree. What else can we
+do? If you decided to wreck the sky again, even you might not be able to
+repair it a second time." He tapped his hands lightly together and the
+sound of a huge gong reverberated in the room. "Let the hall be cleared.
+I will accept the conditions in private."
+
+There were no objections. A minute later Hanson, Bork and Nema were
+alone with the old man. Sunlight streamed in through the window, and
+there were fleecy clouds showing in the blue sky.
+
+"Well?" Sather Karf asked. There was a trace of a smile on his face and
+a glow of what seemed to be amusement in his eyes as he listened, though
+Hanson could see nothing amusing in the suggestions he was making.
+
+First, of course, he meant to stay here. There was no other place for
+him, but he would have chosen to stay in any event. Here he had
+developed into what he had never even thought of being, and there were
+still things to be learned. He'd gone a long way on what he'd found in
+one elementary book. Now, with a chance to study all their magical lore
+and apply it with the methods he had learned in his own world, there
+were amazing possibilities opening up to him. For the world, a few
+changes would be needed. Magic should be limited to what magic did best;
+the people needed to grow their own food and care for themselves. And
+they needed protection from the magicians. There would have to be a code
+of ethics to be worked out later.
+
+"You've got all the time you need to work things out, Sathator Hanson,"
+Sather Karf told him. "It's your world, literally, so take your time.
+What do you want first?"
+
+Hanson considered it, while Nema's hand crept into his. Then he grinned.
+"I guess I want to get your great granddaughter turned into a registered
+and certified wife and take her on a long honeymoon," he decided. "After
+what you've put me through, I need a rest."
+
+He took her arm and started down the aisle of the council room. Behind
+him, he heard Bork's chuckle and the soft laughter of Sather Karf. But
+their faces were sobering by the time he reached the doorway and looked
+back.
+
+"I like him, too, grandfather," Bork was saying. "Well, it seems your
+group was right, after all. Your prophecy is fulfilled. He may have a
+little trouble with so many knowing his name, but he's Dave Hanson, to
+whom nothing is impossible. You should have considered all the
+implications of omnipotence."
+
+Sather Karf nodded. "Perhaps. And perhaps your group was also right,
+Bork. It seems that the world-egg has hatched." His eyes lifted and
+centered on the doorway.
+
+Hanson puzzled over their words briefly as he closed the door and went
+out with Nema. He'd probably have to do something about his name, but
+the rest of the conversation was a mystery to him. Then he dismissed
+it. He could always remember it when he had more time to think about it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was many millenia and several universes later when Dave Hanson
+finally remembered. By then it was no mystery, of course. And there was
+no one who dared pronounce his true name.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sky is Falling, by Lester Del Rey.
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sky Is Falling, by Lester del Rey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sky Is Falling
+
+Author: Lester del Rey
+
+Release Date: July 6, 2006 [EBook #18768]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKY IS FALLING ***
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+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<h1>THE SKY IS FALLING</h1>
+<h4>By</h4>
+<h2>LESTER DEL REY<br /></h2>
+
+
+<h5>ace books<br />
+<br />
+A Division of Charter Communications Inc.<br />
+1120 Avenue of the Americas<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br /></h5>
+
+<h5>Copyright &copy; 1954, 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.<br />
+
+A shorter and earlier version of this story appeared as "No More Stars"<br />
+under the pseudonym of Charles Satterfield in <i>Beyond Fantasy Fiction</i><br />
+for July, 1954.<br /><br /><br />
+<i>First Ace printing: January, 1973<br />
+Printed in U.S.A.</i></h5>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p class="tr"> <b>Transcriber's note.</b>
+<br />Extensive research did not uncover any
+evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 315px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="315" height="523"
+alt="THE SKY IS FALLING: WHEN MEN RULED THE STARS&mdash;
+AND THE STARS RULED MEN!" title="THE SKY IS FALLING: WHEN MEN RULED THE STARS&mdash;
+AND THE STARS RULED MEN!" />
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' /></div>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Dave stared around the office. He went to the window and stared
+upwards at the crazy patchwork of the sky. For all he knew, in
+such a sky there might be cracks. In fact, as he looked, he
+could make out a rift, and beyond that a ... hole ... a small
+patch where there was no color, and yet the sky there was not
+black. There were no stars there, though points of light were
+clustered around the edges, apparently retreating.</p></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>The Sky<br />
+Is Falling</h2>
+<h4>By</h4>
+<h3>Lester Del Rey<br /></h3>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<h2>I</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Dave Hanson! By the power of the true name be summoned cells and
+humors, ka and id, self and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Dave Hanson! The name came swimming through utter blackness, sucking at
+him, pulling him together out of nothingness. Then, abruptly, he was
+aware of being alive, and surprised. He sucked in on the air around him,
+and the breath burned in his lungs. He was one of the dead&mdash;there should
+be no quickening of breath within him!</p>
+
+<p>He caught a grip on himself, fighting the fantasies of his mind, and
+took another breath of air. This time it burned less, and he could force
+an awareness of the smells around him. But there was none of the pungent
+odor of the hospital he had expected. Instead, his nostrils were
+scorched with a noxious odor of sulfur, burned hair and cloying incense.</p>
+
+<p>He gagged on it. His diaphragm tautened with the sharp pain of
+long-unused muscles, and he sneezed.</p>
+
+<p>"A good sign," a man's voice said. "The followers have accepted and are
+leaving. Only a true being can sneeze. But unless the salamander works,
+his chances are only slight."</p>
+
+<p>There was a mutter of agreement from others, before an older voice broke
+in. "It takes a deeper fire than most salamanders can stir, Ser Perth.
+We might aid it with high-frequency radiation, but I distrust the
+effects on the prepsyche. If we tried a tamed succubus&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The things are untrustworthy," the first voice an<span class='pagenum'> [Pg 7]</span>swered. "And with the
+sky falling, we dare not trust one."</p>
+
+<p>The words blurred off in a fog of semiconsciousness and half-thoughts.
+The sky was falling? Who killed Foxy Loxy? I, said the spider, who sat
+down insider, I went boomp in the night and the bull jumped over the
+moon....</p>
+
+<p>"Bull," he croaked. "The bull sleeper!"</p>
+
+<p>"Delirious," the first voice muttered.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean&mdash;bull pusher!" That was wrong, too, and he tried again, forcing
+his reluctant tongue around the syllables. "Bull <i>dosser</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Damn it, couldn't he even pronounce simple Engaliss?</p>
+
+<p>The language wasn't English, however. Nor was it Canadian French, the
+only other speech he could make any sense of. Yet he understood it&mdash;had
+even spoken it, he realized. There was nothing wrong with his command of
+whatever language it was, but there seemed to be no word for bulldozer.
+He struggled to get his eyes open.</p>
+
+<p>The room seemed normal enough, in spite of the odd smells. He lay on a
+high bed, surrounded by prim white walls, and there was even a chart of
+some kind at the bottom of the bedframe. He focused his eyes slowly on
+what must be the doctors and nurses there, and their faces looked back
+with the proper professional worry. But the varicolored gowns they wore
+in place of proper clothing were covered with odd designs, stars,
+crescents and things that might have been symbols for astronomy or
+chemistry.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to reach for his glasses to adjust them. There were no glasses!
+That hit him harder than any other discovery. He must be delirious and
+imagining the room. Dave Hanson was so nearsighted that he couldn't
+have<span class='pagenum'> [Pg 8]</span> seen the men, much less the clothing, without corrective lenses.</p>
+
+<p>The middle-aged man with the small mustache bent over the chart near his
+feet. "Hmm," the man said in the voice of the first speaker. "Mars
+trines Neptune. And with Scorpio so altered ... hmm. Better add two cc.
+of cortisone to the transfusion."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson tried to sit up, but his arms refused to bear his weight. He
+opened his mouth. A slim hand came to his lips, and he looked up into
+soothing blue eyes. The nurse's face was framed in copper-red hair. She
+had the transparent skin and classic features that occur once in a
+million times but which still keep the legend of redheaded enchantresses
+alive. "Shh," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He began to struggle against her hand, but she shook her head gently.
+Her other hand began a series of complicated motions that had a
+ritualistic look about them.</p>
+
+<p>"Shh," she repeated. "Rest. Relax and sleep, Dave Hanson, and remember
+when you were alive."</p>
+
+<p>There was a sharp sound from the doctor, but it began to blur out before
+Hanson could understand it. He fought to remember what he'd heard the
+nurse say&mdash;something about when he was alive&mdash;as if he'd been dead a
+long time.... He couldn't hold the thought. At a final rapid motion of
+the girl's hand his eyes closed, the smell faded from his nose and all
+sounds vanished. Once there was a stinging sensation, as if he were
+receiving the transfusion. Then he was alone in his mind with his
+memories&mdash;mostly of the last day when he'd still been alive. He seemed
+to be reliving the events, rethinking the thoughts he'd had then.</p>
+
+<p>It began with the sight of his uncle's face leering at him. Uncle David
+Arnold Hanson looked like every man's dream of himself and every woman's
+dreams of manliness. <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 9]</span>But at the moment, to Dave, he looked more like a
+personal demon. His head was tilted back and nasty laughter was booming
+through the air of the little office.</p>
+
+<p>"So your girl writes that your little farewell activity didn't fare so
+well, eh?" he chortled. "And you come crawling here to tell me you want
+to do the honorable thing, is that it? All right, my beloved nephew,
+you'll do the honorable thing! You'll stick to your contract with me."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;" Dave began.</p>
+
+<p>"But if you don't, you'd better read it again. You don't get one cent
+except on completion of your year with me. That's what it says, and
+that's what happens." He paused, letting the fact that he meant it sink
+in. He was enjoying the whole business, and in no hurry to end it. "And
+I happen to know, Dave, that you don't even have fare to Saskatchewan
+left. You quit and I'll see you never get another job. I promised my
+sister I'd make a man of you and, by jumping Jupiter, I intend to do
+just that. And in my book, that doesn't mean you run back with your tail
+between your legs just because some silly young girl pulls that old
+chestnut on you. Why, when I was your age, I already had...."</p>
+
+<p>Dave wasn't listening any longer. In futile anger, he'd swung out of the
+office and gone stumbling back toward the computer building. Then, in a
+further burst of anger, he swung off the trail. To hell with his work
+and blast his uncle! He'd go on into town, and he'd&mdash;he'd do whatever he
+pleased.</p>
+
+<p>The worst part of it was that Uncle David could make good on his threat
+of seeing that Dave got no more work anywhere. David Arnold Hanson was a
+power to reckon with. No other man on Earth could have persuaded anyone
+to let him try his scheme of building a great deflection wall <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 10]</span> across
+northern Canada to change the weather patterns. And no other man could
+have accomplished the impossible task, even after twelve countries
+pooled their resources to give him the job. But he was doing it, and it
+was already beginning to work. Dave had noticed that the last winter in
+Chicago had definitely shown that Uncle David's predictions were coming
+true.</p>
+
+<p>Like most of the world, Dave had regarded the big man who was his uncle
+with something close to worship. He'd jumped at the chance to work under
+Uncle David. And he'd been a fool. He'd been doing all right in Chicago.
+Repairing computers didn't pay a fortune, but it was a good living, and
+he was good at it. And there was Bertha&mdash;maybe not a movie doll, but a
+sort of pretty girl who was also a darned good cook. For a man of thirty
+who'd always been a scrawny, shy runt like the one in the "before"
+pictures, he'd been doing all right.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the letter from his uncle, offering him triple salary as a
+maintenance man on the computers used for the construction job. There
+was nothing said about romance and beauteous Indian maids, but Dave
+filled that in himself. He would need the money when he and Bertha got
+married, too, and all that healthy outdoor living was just what the
+doctor would have ordered.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian maids, of course, turned out to be a few fat old squaws who
+knew all about white men. The outdoor living developed into five months
+of rain, hail, sleet, blizzard, fog and constant freezing in tractors
+while breathing the healthy fumes of diesels. Uncle David turned out to
+be a construction genius, all right, but his interest in Dave seemed to
+lie in the fact that he was tired of being Simon Legree to strangers
+and<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 11]</span> wanted to take it out on one of his own family. And the easy job
+turned into hell when the regular computer-man couldn't take any more
+and quit, leaving Dave to do everything, including making the field
+tests to gain the needed data.</p>
+
+<p>Now Bertha was writing frantic letters, telling him how much he'd better
+come back and marry her immediately. And Uncle David thought it was a
+joke!</p>
+
+<p>Dave paid no attention to where his feet were leading him, only vaguely
+aware that he was heading down a gully below the current construction
+job. He heard the tractors and bulldozers moving along the narrow cliff
+above him, but he was used to the sound. He heard frantic yelling from
+above, too, but paid no attention to it; in any Hanson construction
+program, somebody was always yelling about something that had to be done
+day before yesterday. It wasn't until he finally became aware of his own
+name being shouted that he looked up. Then he froze in horror.</p>
+
+<p>The bulldozer was teetering at the edge of the cliff as he saw it, right
+above him. And the cliff was crumbling from under it, while the tread
+spun idiotically out of control. As Dave's eyes took in the whole
+situation, the cliff crumbled completely, and the dozer came lunging
+over the edge, plunging straight for him. His shout was drowned in the
+roar of the motor. He tried to force his legs to jump, but they were
+frozen in terror. The heavy mass came straight for him, its treads
+churning like great teeth reaching for him.</p>
+
+<p>Then it hit, squarely on top of him. Something ripped and splattered and
+blacked out in an unbearable welter of agony.</p>
+
+<p>Dave Hanson came awake trying to scream and thrusting at the bed with
+arms too weak to raise him.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 12]</span> The dream of the past was already fading.
+The horror he had thought was death lay somewhere in the past.</p>
+
+<p>Now he was here&mdash;wherever here was.</p>
+
+<p>The obvious answer was that he was in a normal hospital, somehow still
+alive, being patched up. The things he seemed to remember from his other
+waking must be a mixture of fact and delirium. Besides, how was he to
+judge what was normal in extreme cases of surgery?</p>
+
+<p>He managed to struggle up to a sitting position in the bed, trying to
+make out more of his surroundings. But the room was dark now. As his
+eyes adjusted, he made out a small brazier there, with a cadaverous old
+man in a dark robe spotted with looped crosses. On his head was
+something like a miter, carrying a coiled brass snake in front of it.
+The old man's white goatee bobbed as he mouthed something silently and
+made passes over the flame, which shot up prismatically. Clouds of white
+fire belched up.</p>
+
+<p>Dave reached to adjust his glasses, and found again that he wasn't
+wearing them. But he'd never seen so clearly before.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment, a chanting voice broke into his puzzled thoughts. It
+sounded like Ser Perth. Dave turned his head weakly. The motion set sick
+waves of nausea running through him, but he could see the doctor
+kneeling on the floor in some sort of pantomime. The words of the chant
+were meaningless.</p>
+
+<p>A hand closed over Dave's eyes, and the voice of the nurse whispered in
+his ear. "Shh, Dave Hanson. It's the Sather Karf, so don't interrupt.
+There may be a conjunction."</p>
+
+<p>He fell back, panting, his heart fluttering. Whatever<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 13]</span> was going on, he
+was in no shape to interrupt anything. But he knew that this was no
+delirium. He didn't have that kind of imagination.</p>
+
+<p>The chant changed, after a long moment of silence. Dave's heart had
+picked up speed, but now it missed again, and he felt cold. He shivered.
+Hell or heaven weren't like this, either. It was like something out of
+some picture&mdash;something about Cagliostro, the ancient mystic. But he was
+sure the language he somehow spoke wasn't an ancient one. It had words
+for electron, penicillin and calculus, for he found them in his own
+mind.</p>
+
+<p>The chant picked up again, and now the brazier flamed a dull red,
+showing the Sather Karf's face changing from some kind of disappointment
+to a businesslike steadiness. The red glow grew white in the center, and
+a fat, worm-like shape of flame came into being. The old man picked it
+up in his hand, petted it and carried it toward Dave. It flowed toward
+his chest.</p>
+
+<p>He pulled himself back, but Ser Perth and the nurse leaped forward to
+hold him. The thing started to grow brighter. It shone now like a tiny
+bit of white-hot metal; but the older man touched it, and it snuggled
+down into Dave's chest, dimming its glow and somehow purring. Warmth
+seemed to flow from it into Dave. The two men watched for a moment, then
+picked up their apparatus and turned to go. The Sather Karf lifted the
+fire from the brazier in his bare hand, moved it into the air and said a
+soft word. It vanished, and the two men were also gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Magic!" Dave said. He'd seen such illusions created on the stage, but
+there was something different here. And there was no fakery about the
+warmth from the thing over his chest. Abruptly he remembered that he'd
+come across something like it, called a salamander, in<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 14]</span> fiction once;
+the thing was supposed to be a spirit of fire, and dangerously
+destructive.</p>
+
+<p>The girl nodded in the soft glow coming from Dave's chest. "Naturally,"
+she told him. "How else does one produce and control a salamander,
+except by magic? Without, magic, how can we thaw a frozen soul? Or
+didn't your world have any sciences, Dave Hanson?"</p>
+
+<p>Either the five months under his uncle had toughened him, or the sight
+of the bulldozer falling had knocked him beyond any strong reaction. The
+girl had practically told him he wasn't in his own world. He waited for
+some emotion, felt none, and shrugged. The action sent pain running
+through him, but he stood it somehow. The salamander ceased its purring,
+then resumed.</p>
+
+<p>"Where in hell am I?" he asked. "Or when?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. "Hell? No, I don't think so. Some say it's Earth and
+some call it Terah, but nobody calls it Hell. It's&mdash;well, it's a
+long&mdash;time, I guess&mdash;from when you were. I don't know. In such matters,
+only the Satheri know. The Dual is closed even to the Seri. Anyhow, it's
+not your space-time, though some say it's your world."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean dimensional travel?" Dave asked. He'd seen something about
+that on a science-fiction television program. It made even time travel
+seem simple. At any event, however, this wasn't a hospital in any sane
+and normal section of Canada during his time, on Earth.</p>
+
+<p>"Something like that," she agreed doubtfully. "But go to sleep now.
+Shh." Her hands came up in complicated gestures. "Sleep and grow well."</p>
+
+<p>"None of that hypnotism again!" he protested.</p>
+
+<p>She went on making passes, but smiled on him kindly. "Don't be
+superstitious&mdash;hypnotism is silly. Now go to<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 15]</span> sleep. For me, Dave
+Hanson. I want you well and true when you awake."</p>
+
+<p>Against his will, his eyes closed, and his lips refused to obey his
+desire to protest. Fatigue dulled his thoughts. But for a moment, he
+went on pondering. Somebody from the future&mdash;this could never be the
+past&mdash;had somehow pulled him out just ahead of the accident, apparently;
+or else he'd been deep frozen somehow to wait for medical knowledge
+beyond that of his own time. He'd heard it might be possible to do that.</p>
+
+<p>It was a cockeyed future, if this were the future. Still, if scientists
+had to set up some, sort of a religious mumbo-jumbo....</p>
+
+<p>Sickness thickened in him, until he could feel his face wet with
+perspiration. But with it had come a paralysis that left him unable to
+move or groan. He screamed inside himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor mandrake-man," the girl said softly. "Go back to Lethe. But don't
+cross over. We need you sorely."</p>
+
+<p>Then he passed out again.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 16]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>II</h2>
+
+
+<p>Whatever they had done to patch him up hadn't been very successful,
+apparently. He spent most of the time in a delirium; sometimes he was
+dead, and there was an ultimate coldness like the universe long after
+the entropy death. At other times, he was wandering into fantasies that
+were all horrible. And at all times, even in unconsciousness, he seemed
+to be fighting desperately to keep from falling apart painfully within
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>When he was awake, the girl was always beside him. He learned that her
+name was Nema. Usually there was also the stout figure of Ser Perth.
+Sometimes he saw Sather Karf or some other older man working with
+strange equipment, or with things that looked like familiar hypodermics
+and medical equipment. Once they had an iron lung around him and there
+was a thin wisp over his face.</p>
+
+<p>He started to brush it aside, but Nema's hand restrained him. "Don't
+disturb the sylph," she ordered.</p>
+
+<p>Another semirational period occurred during some excitement or danger
+that centered around him. He was still half delirious, but he could see
+men working frantically to build a net of something around his bed,
+while a wet, thick thing flopped and drooled beyond the door, apparently
+immune to the attacks of the hospital staff. There were shouting orders
+involving the undine. The salamander in Dave's chest crept deeper and
+seemed to bleat at each cry of the monstrous thing beyond the door.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 17]</span></p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf sat hunched over what seemed to be a bowl of water, paying
+no attention to the struggle. Something that he seemed to see there held
+his attention. Then he screamed suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"The Sons of the Egg. It's their sending!"</p>
+
+<p>He reached for a brazier beside him, caught up the fire and plunged it
+deep into the bowl of water, screaming something. There was the sound of
+an explosion from far away as he drew his hands out, unwet by the water.
+Abruptly the undine began a slow retreat. In Dave's chest, the
+salamander began purring again, and he drifted back into his coma.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to ask Nema about it later when she was feeding him, but she
+brushed it aside.</p>
+
+<p>"An orderly let out the news that you are here," she said. "But don't
+worry. We've sent out a doppelganger to fool the Sons, and the orderly
+has been sentenced to slavery under the pyramid builder for twenty
+lifetimes. I hate my brother! How dare he fight us with the sky
+falling?"</p>
+
+<p>Later, the delirium seemed to pass completely, but Dave took no comfort
+from that. In its place came a feeling of gloom and apathy. He slept
+most of the time, as if not daring to use his little strength even to
+think.</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth stayed near him most of the time now. The man was obviously
+worried, but tried not to show it. "We've managed to get some
+testosterone from a blond homunculus," he reported. "That should put you
+on your feet in no time. Don't worry, young man we'll keep you vivified
+somehow until the Sign changes." But he didn't sound convincing.</p>
+
+<p>"Everyone is chanting for you," Nema told him. "All over the world, the
+chants go up."<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 18]</span></p>
+
+<p>It meant nothing to him, but it sounded friendly. A whole world hoping
+for him to get well! He cheered up a bit at that until he found out that
+the chants were compulsory, and had nothing to do with goodwill.</p>
+
+<p>The iron lung was back the next time he came to, and he was being tugged
+toward it. He noticed this time that there was no sylph, and his
+breathing seemed to be no worse than usual. But the sight of the two
+orderlies and the man in medical uniform beside the lung reassured him.
+Whatever their methods, he was convinced that they were doing their best
+for him here.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to help them get him into the lung, and one of the men nodded
+encouragingly. But Dave was too weak to give much assistance. He glanced
+about for Nema, but she was out on one of her infrequent other duties.
+He sighed, wishing desperately that she were with him. She was a lot
+more proficient than the orderlies.</p>
+
+<p>The man in medical robe turned toward him sharply. "Stop that!" he
+ordered.</p>
+
+<p>Before Dave could ask what he was to stop, Nema came rushing into the
+room. Her face paled as she saw the three men, and she gasped, throwing
+up her hand in a protective gesture.</p>
+
+<p>The two orderlies jumped for her, one grabbing her and the other closing
+his hands over her mouth. She struggled violently, but the men were too
+strong for her.</p>
+
+<p>The man in doctor's robes shoved the iron lung aside violently and
+reached into his clothing. From it, he drew a strange, double-bladed
+knife. He swung toward Dave, raising the knife into striking position
+and aiming it at Dave's heart.</p>
+
+<p>"The Egg breaks," he intoned hollowly. It was a <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 19]</span> cultured voice, and
+there was a refinement to his face that registered on Dave's mind even
+over the horror of the weapon. "The fools cannot hold the shell. But
+neither shall they delay its breaking. Dead you were, mandrake son, and
+dead you shall be again. But since the fault is only theirs, may no ill
+dreams follow you beyond Lethe!"</p>
+
+<p>The knife started down, just as Nema managed to break free. She shrieked
+out a phrase of keening command. The salamander suddenly broke from
+Dave's chest, glowing brighter as it rose toward the face of the
+attacker. It was like a bit from the center of a star. The man jumped
+back, beginning a frantic ritual. He was too late. The salamander hit
+him, sank into him and shone through him. Then he slumped, steamed ...
+and was nothing but dust falling toward the carpet. The salamander
+turned, heading toward the others. But it was to Nema it went, rather
+than the two men. She was trying something desperately, but fear was
+thick on her face, and her hands were unsure.</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly, Sather Karf was in the doorway. His hand lifted, his fingers
+dancing. Words hissed from his lips in a stream of sibilants too quick
+for Dave to catch. The salamander paused and began to shrink doubtfully.
+Sather Karf turned, and again his hands writhed in the air. One hand
+darted back and forward, as if he were throwing something. Again he made
+the gesture. With each throw, one of the false orderlies dropped to the
+floor, clutching at a neck where the skin showed marks of constriction
+as if a steel cord were tightening. They died slowly, their eyes bulging
+and faces turning blue. Now the salamander moved toward them, directed
+apparently by slight motions from Sather Karf. In a few moments, there
+was no sign of them.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 20]</span></p>
+
+<p>The old man sighed, his face slumping into lines of fatigue and age. He
+caught his breath. He held out a hand to the salamander, petted it to a
+gentle glow and put it back over Dave's chest.</p>
+
+<p>"Good work, Nema," he said wearily. "You're too weak to control the
+salamander, but this was done well in the emergency. I saw them in the
+pool, but I was almost too late. The damned fanatics. Superstition in
+this day and age!"</p>
+
+<p>He swung to face Dave, whose vocal cords were still taut with the shock
+of the sight of the knife. "Don't worry, Dave Hanson. From now on, every
+Ser and Sather will protect you with the lower and the upper magic. The
+House changes tomorrow, if the sky permits, and we shall shield you
+until then. We didn't bring you back from the dead, piecing your
+scattered atoms together with your scattered revenant particle by
+particle, to have you killed again. Somehow, we'll incarnate you fully!
+You have my word for that."</p>
+
+<p>"Dead?" Dave had grown numbed to his past during the long illness, but
+that brought it back afresh. "Then I was killed? I wasn't just frozen
+and brought here by some time machine?"</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf stared at him blankly. "Time machine? Impossible. Of course
+not. After the tractor killed you, and you were buried, what good would
+such fantasies be, even if they existed? No, we simply reincarnated you
+by pooling our magic. Though it was a hazardous and parlous thing, with
+the sky falling...."</p>
+
+<p>He sighed and went out, while Dave went back to his delirium.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 21]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>III</h2>
+
+
+<p>There was no delirium when he awoke in the morning. Instead, there was
+only a feeling of buoyant health. In fact, Dave Hanson had never felt
+that good in his life&mdash;or his former life. He reconsidered his belief
+that there was no delirium, wondering if the feeling were not itself a
+form of hallucination. But it was too genuine. He knew without question
+that he was well.</p>
+
+<p>It shouldn't have been true. During the night, he'd partially awakened
+in agony to find Nema chanting and gesturing desperately beside him, and
+he'd been sure he was on the verge of his second death. He could
+remember one moment, just before midnight, when she had stopped and
+seemed to give up hope. Then she'd braced herself and begun some ritual
+as if she were afraid to try it. Beyond that, he had no memory of pain.</p>
+
+<p>Nema came into the room now, touching his shoulder gently. She smiled
+and nodded at him. "Good morning, Sagittarian. Get out of bed."</p>
+
+<p>Expecting the worst, he swung his feet over the side and sat up. After
+so much time in bed, even a well man should be rendered weak and shaky.
+But there was no dizziness, no sign of weakness. He had made a most
+remarkable recovery, and Nema didn't even seem surprised. He tentatively
+touched foot to floor and half stood, propping himself against the high
+bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on," Nema said impatiently. "You're all right now. We entered your
+sign during the night." She turned her back on him and took something
+from a chest <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 22]</span> beside the bed. "Ser Perth will be here in a moment. He'll
+want to find you on your feet and dressed."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson was beginning to feel annoyance at the suddenly cocksure and
+unsympathetic girl, but he stood fully erect and flexed his muscles.
+There wasn't even a trace of bedsoreness, though he had been flat on his
+back long enough to grow callouses. And as he examined himself, he could
+find no scars or signs of injuries from the impact of the bulldozer&mdash;if
+there had ever really been a bulldozer.</p>
+
+<p>He grimaced at his own doubts. "Where am I, anyhow, Nema?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl dumped an armload of clothing on his bed and looked at him with
+controlled exasperation. "Dave Hanson," she told him, "don't you know
+any other words? That's the millionth time you've asked me that, at
+least. And for the hundredth time, I'll tell you that you're here. Look
+around you; see for yourself. I'm tired of playing nursemaid to you."
+She picked up a shirt of heavy-duty khaki from the pile on the bed and
+handed it to him. "Get into this," she ordered. "Dress first, talk
+later."</p>
+
+<p>She stalked out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Dave did as she had ordered, busy with his own thoughts as he discovered
+what he was to wear. He was still wearing something with a vague
+resemblance to a short hospital gown, with green pentacles and some
+plant symbol woven into it, and with a clasp to hold it together shaped
+into a silver crux ansata. He took it off and hurled it into a corner
+disgustedly.</p>
+
+<p>He picked up the khaki shirt and put it on; then, with growing
+curiosity, the rest of the garments, until he came to the shoes. Khaki
+shirt, khaki breeches, a wide, webbed belt, a flat-brimmed hat. And the
+shoes <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 23]</span>&mdash;they weren't shoes, but knee-length leather boots, like a dressy
+version of lumberman's boots or a rougher version of riding boots. He
+hadn't seen even pictures of such things since the few silent movies run
+in some of the little art theaters. He struggled to get them on. They
+were an excellent fit, and comfortable enough, but he felt as if his
+legs were encased in hardened concrete when he was through. He looked
+down at himself in disgust. He was in all respects costumed as the
+epitome of the Hollywood dream of a heroic engineer-builder, ready to
+drive a canal through an isthmus or throw a dam across a raging
+river&mdash;the kind who'd build the dam while the river raged, instead of
+waiting until it was quiet, a few days later. He was about as far from
+the appearance of the actual blue-denim, leather-jacket engineers he had
+worked with as Maori in ancient battle array.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head and went looking for the bathroom, where there might
+be a mirror. He found a door, but it led into a closet, filled with
+alembics and other equipment. There was a mirror hung on the back of it,
+however, with a big sign over it that said "Keep Out." He threw the door
+wide and stared at himself. At first, in spite of the costume, he was
+pleased. Then the truth began to hit him, and he felt abruptly sure he
+was still raging with fever and delirium.</p>
+
+<p>He was still staring when Nema came back into the room. She pursed her
+lips and shut the door quickly. But he'd already seen enough.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind where I am," he said. "Tell me, <i>who</i> am I?"</p>
+
+<p>She stared at him. "You're Dave Hanson."</p>
+
+<p>"The hell I am," he told her. "Oh, that's what I remember my father
+having me christened as. He hated <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 24]</span> long names. But take a good look at
+me. I've been shaving my face for years now, and I should know it.
+<i>That</i> face in the mirror wasn't it! There's a resemblance. But a darned
+faint one. Change the chin, lengthen my nose, make the eyes brown
+instead of blue, and it might be me. But Dave Hanson's at least five
+inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter, too. Maybe the face is plastic
+surgery after the accident&mdash;but this isn't even my body."</p>
+
+<p>The girl's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Dave Hanson," she said
+gently. "We should have thought to warn you. You were a difficult
+conjuration&mdash;and even the easier ones often go wrong these days. We did
+our best, though it may be that the auspices were too strong on the
+soma. I'm sorry if you don't like the way you look. But there's nothing
+we can do about it now."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson opened the door again, in spite of Nema's quick frown, and looked
+at himself. "Well," he admitted, "I guess it could be worse. In fact, I
+guess it was worse&mdash;once I get used to looking like this, I think I'll
+get to like it. But seeing it was a heck of a thing to take for a sick
+man."</p>
+
+<p>Nema said sharply, "Are you sick?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;I guess not."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why say you are? You shouldn't be; I told you we've entered the
+House of Sagittarius now. You can't be sick in your own sign. Don't you
+understand even that much elementary science?"</p>
+
+<p>Hanson didn't get a chance to answer. Ser Perth was suddenly in the
+doorway, dressed in a different type of robe. This was short and somehow
+conservative&mdash;it had a sincere, executive look about it. The man seemed
+changed in other ways, too. But Dave wasn't concerned about that. He was
+growing tired of the way <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 25]</span> people suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Maybe
+they all wore rubber-soled shoes or practiced sneaking about; it was a
+silly way for grown people to act.</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me, Dave Hanson," Ser Perth ordered, without wasting words.
+He spoke in a clipped manner now.</p>
+
+<p>Dave followed, grumbling in his mind. It was even sillier than their
+sneaking about for them to expect him to start running around before
+they bothered to check the condition of a man fresh out of his death
+bed. In any of the hospitals he had known, there would have been hours
+or days of X-rays and blood tests and temperature taking before he would
+be released. These people simply decided a man was well and ordered him
+out.</p>
+
+<p>To do them justice, however, he had to admit that they seemed to be
+right. He had never felt better. The twaddle about Sagittarius would
+have to be cleared up sometime, but meanwhile he was in pretty good
+shape. Sagittarius, as he remembered it, was supposed to be one of the
+signs of the Zodiac. Bertha had been something of a sucker for
+astrology and had found he was born under that sign before she agreed to
+their little good-by party. He snorted to himself. It had done her a
+heck of a lot of good, which was to be expected of such nonsense.</p>
+
+<p>They passed down a dim corridor and Ser Perth turned in at a door.
+Inside there was a single-chair barber shop, with a barber who might
+also have come from some movie-casting office. He had the proper wavy
+black hair and rat-tailed comb stuck into a slightly dirty off-white
+jacket. He also had the half-obsequious, half-insulting manner Dave had
+found most people expected from their barbers. While he shaved and
+trimmed <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 26]</span> Dave, he made insultingly solicitous comments about Dave's skin
+needing a massage, suggested a tonic for thinning hair and practically
+insisted on a singe. Ser Perth watched with a mixture of intentness and
+amusement. The barber trimmed the tufts from over Dave's ears and
+clipped the hair in his nose, while a tray was pushed up and a
+slatternly blonde began giving him a manicure.</p>
+
+<p>He began noticing that she carefully dumped his fingernail parings into
+a small jar. A few moments later, he found the barber also using a jar
+to collect the hair and shaving stubble. Ser Perth was also interested
+in that, it seemed, since his eyes followed that part of the operation.
+Dave frowned, and then relaxed. After all, this was a hospital barber
+shop, and they probably had some rigid rules about sanitation, though he
+hadn't seen much other evidence of such care.</p>
+
+<p>The barber finally removed the cloth with a snap and bowed. "Come again,
+sir," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth stood up and motioned for Dave to follow. He turned to look in
+a mirror, and caught sight of the barber handing the bottles and jars of
+waste hair and nail clippings to a girl. He saw only her back, but it
+looked like Nema.</p>
+
+<p>Something stirred in his mind then. He'd read something somewhere about
+hair clippings and nail parings being used for some strange purpose. And
+there'd been something about spittle. But they hadn't collected that. Or
+had they? He'd been unconscious long enough for them to have gathered
+any amount they wanted. It all had something to do with some kind of
+mumbo-jumbo, and....</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth had led him through the same door by which they'd entered&mdash;but
+<i>not</i> into the same hallway. Dave's <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 27]</span> mind dropped the other thoughts as
+he tried to cope with the realization that this was another corridor. It
+was brightly lit, and there was a scarlet carpet on the floor. Also, it
+was a short hall, requiring only a few steps before they came to a
+bigger door, elaborately enscrolled. Ser Perth bent before it, and the
+door opened silently while he and Dave entered.</p>
+
+<p>The room was large and sparsely furnished. Sitting cross-legged on a
+cushion near the door was Nema, juggling something in her hands. It
+looked like a cluster of colored threads, partly woven into a rather
+garish pattern. On a raised bench between two windows sat the old figure
+of Sather Karf, resting his chin on hands that held a staff and staring
+at Dave intently.</p>
+
+<p>Dave stopped as the door closed behind him. Sather Karf nodded, as if
+satisfied, and Nema tied a complex knot in the threads, then paused
+silently.</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf looked far less well than when Dave had last seen him. He
+seemed older and more shriveled, and there was a querulous, pinched
+expression in place of the firmness and almost nobility Dave had come to
+expect. His old eyes bored into the younger man, and he nodded. His
+voice had a faint quaver now. "All right. You're not much to look at,
+but you're the best we could find in the Ways we can reach. Come here,
+Dave Hanson."</p>
+
+<p>The command was still there, however petty the man seemed now. Dave
+started to phrase some protest, when he found his legs taking him
+forward to stop in front of Sather Karf, like some clockwork man whose
+lever has been pushed. He stood in front of the raised bench, noticing
+that the spot had been chosen to highlight him in the sunset light from
+the windows. He listened while the old man talked.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 28]</span></p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf began without preamble, stating things in a dry voice as if
+reading off a list of obvious facts.</p>
+
+<p>"You were dead, Dave Hanson. Dead, buried, and scattered by time and
+chance until even the place where you lay was forgotten. In your own
+world, you were nothing. Now you are alive, through the effort of men
+here whose work you could not even dream of. We have created you, Dave
+Hanson. Remember that, and forget the ties to any other world, since
+that world no longer holds you."</p>
+
+<p>Dave nodded slowly. It was hard to swallow, but there were too many
+things here that couldn't be in any world he had known. And his memory
+of dying was the clearest memory he had. "All right," he admitted. "You
+saved my life&mdash;or something. And I'll try to remember it. But if this
+isn't my world, what world is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"The only world, perhaps. It doesn't matter." The old man sighed, and
+for a moment the eyes were shrouded in speculation, as if he were
+following some strange by-ways of his own thoughts. Then he shrugged.
+"It's a world and culture linked to the one you knew only by theories
+that disagree with each other. And by vision&mdash;the vision of those who
+are adept enough to see through the Ways to the branches of Duality.
+Before me, there was nothing. But I've learned to open a path&mdash;a
+difficult path for one in this world&mdash;and to draw from it, as you have
+been drawn. Don't try to understand what is a mystery even to the
+Satheri, Dave Hanson."</p>
+
+<p>"A reasonably intelligent man should be able&mdash;" Dave began.</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth cut his words off with a sharp laugh. "Maybe a man. But who
+said you were a man, Dave Hanson? Can't you even understand that? You're
+only half human. <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 29]</span>The other half is mandrake&mdash;a plant that is related to
+humanity through shapes and signs by magic. We make simulacra out of
+mandrakes&mdash;like the manicurist in the barber shop. And sometimes we use
+a mandrake root to capture the essence of a real man, in which case he's
+a mandrake-man, like you. Human? No. But a very good imitation, I must
+admit."</p>
+
+<p>Dave turned from Ser Perth toward Nema, but her head was bent over the
+cords she was weaving, and she avoided his eyes. He remembered now that
+she'd called him a mandrake-man before, in a tone of pity. He looked
+down at his body, sick in his mind. Vague bits of fairy tales came back
+to him, suggesting horrible things about mandrake creatures&mdash;zombie-like
+things, only outwardly human.</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf seemed amused as he looked at Ser Perth. Then the old man
+dropped his eyes toward Dave, and there was a brief look of pity in
+them. "No matter, Dave Hanson," he said. "You were human, and by the
+power of your true name, you are still the same Dave Hanson. We have
+given you life as precious as your other life. Pay us for that with your
+service, and that new life will be truly precious. We need your
+services."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want?" Dave asked. He couldn't fully believe what he'd
+heard, but there had been too many strange things to let him disbelieve,
+either. If they had made him a mandrake-man, then by what little he
+could remember and guess, they could make him obey them.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out the window&mdash;at the sky," Sather Karf ordered.</p>
+
+<p>Dave looked. The sunset colors were still vivid. He stepped forward and
+peered through the crystalline glass. Before him was a city, bathed in
+orange and red,<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 30]</span> towering like the skyline of a dozen cities he had
+seen&mdash;and yet; not like any. The buildings were huge and many-windowed.
+But some were straight and tall, some were squat and fairy-colored and
+others blossomed from thin stalks into impossibly bulbous, minareted
+domes, like long-stemmed tulips reproduced in stone. Haroun-al-Rashid
+might have accepted the city, but Mayor Wagner could never have believed
+in it.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at the sky," the old man suggested again, and there was no mockery
+in his voice now.</p>
+
+<p>Dave looked up obediently.</p>
+
+<p>The sunset colors were not sunset. The sun was bright and blinding
+overhead, surrounded by reddish clouds, glaring down on the fairy city.
+The sky was&mdash;blotchy. It was daylight, but through the clouds bright
+stars were shining. A corner of the horizon was winter blue; a whole
+sweep of it was dead, featureless black. It was a nightmare sky, an
+impossible sky. Dave's eyes bulged as he looked at it.</p>
+
+<p>He turned back to Sather Karf. "What&mdash;what's the matter with it?"</p>
+
+<p>"What indeed?" There was bitterness and fear in the old man's voice. In
+the corner of the room, Nema looked up for a moment, and there was fear
+and worry in her eyes before she looked back to her weaving of endless
+knots. Sather Karf sighed in weariness. "If I knew what was happening to
+the sky, would I be dredging the muck of Duality for the likes of you,
+Dave Hanson!"</p>
+
+<p>He stood up, wearily but with a certain ease and grace that belied his
+age, looking down at Dave. There was stern command in his words, but a
+hint of pleading in his expression.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 31]</span></p>
+
+<p>"The sky's falling, Dave Hanson. Your task is to put it together again.
+See that you do not fail us!"</p>
+
+<p>He waved dismissal and Ser Perth led Dave and Nema out.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 32]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>IV</h2>
+
+
+<p>The corridor down which they moved this time was one that might have
+been familiar even in Dave's Chicago. There was the sound of typewriters
+from behind the doors, and the floor was covered with composition tile,
+instead of the too-lush carpets. He began to relax a little until he
+came to two attendants busily waxing the floor. One held the other by
+the ankles and pushed the creature's hairy face back and forth, while
+its hands spread the wax ahead of it. The results were excellent, but
+Dave found it hard to appreciate.</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth shrugged slightly. "They're only mandrakes," he explained. He
+threw open the door of one of the offices and led them through an outer
+room toward an inner chamber, equipped with comfortable chairs and a
+desk. "Sit down, Dave Hanson. I'll fill you in on anything you need to
+know before you're assigned. Now&mdash;the Sather Karf told you what you were
+to do, of course, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute," Dave suggested. "I don't remember being told any such
+thing."</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth looked at Nema, who nodded. "He distinctly said you were to
+repair the sky. I've got it down in my notes if you want to see them."
+She extended the woven cords.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," Ser Perth said. He twiddled with his mustache. "I'll recap
+a little. Dave Hanson, as you have seen, the sky is falling and must be
+repaired. You are our best hope. We know that from a prophecy, and <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 33]</span> it
+is confirmed by the fact that the fanatics of the Egg have tried several
+times to kill you. They failed, though one effort was close enough, but
+their attempts would not have been made at all if they had not been
+convinced through their arts that you can succeed with the sky."</p>
+
+<p>Dave shook his head. "It's nice to know you trust me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Knowing that you <i>can</i> succeed," the other went on smoothly, "we know
+that you will. It is my unpleasant duty to point out to you the things
+that will happen if you fail. I say nothing of the fact that you owe us
+your life; that may be a small enough gift, and one quickly withdrawn. I
+say only that you have no escape from us. We have your name, and the
+true symbol is the thing, as you should know. We also have cuttings from
+your hair and your beard; we have the parings of your nails, five cubic
+centimeters of your spinal fluid and a scraping from your liver. We have
+your body through those, nor can you take it out of our reach. Your name
+gives us your soul." He looked at Hanson piercingly. "Shall I tell you
+what it would be like for your soul to live in the muck of a swamp in a
+mandrake root?"</p>
+
+<p>Dave shook his head. "I guess not. I&mdash;look, Ser Perth. I don't know what
+you're talking about. How can I go along with you when I'm in the dark?
+Start at the beginning, will you? I was killed; all right, if you say I
+was, I was. You brought me to life again with a mandrake root and
+spells; you can do anything you want with me. I admit it; right now,
+I'll admit anything you want me to, because you know what's going on and
+I don't. But what's all this business of the sky falling? If it is and
+can be falling, what's the difference? If there <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 34]</span> is a difference, why
+should I be able to do anything about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ignorance!" Ser Perth murmured to himself. He sighed heavily. "Always
+ignorance. Well, then, listen." He sat down on the corner of the desk
+and took out a cigarette. At least it looked like a cigarette. He
+snapped his fingers and lighted it from a little flame that sprang up,
+blowing clouds of bright green smoke from his mouth. The smoke hung
+lazily, drifting into vague patterns and then began to coalesce into a
+green houri without costume. He swatted at it negligently.</p>
+
+<p>"Dratted sylphs. There's no controlling the elementals properly any
+more." He didn't seem too displeased, however, as he watched the thing
+dance off. Then he sobered.</p>
+
+<p>"In your world, Dave Hanson, you were versed in the engineering
+arts&mdash;you more than most. That you should be so ignorant, though you
+were considered brilliant is a sad commentary on your world. But no
+matter. Perhaps you can at least learn quickly still. Even you must have
+had some idea of the composition of the sky?"</p>
+
+<p>Dave frowned as he tried to answer. "Well, I suppose the atmosphere is
+oxygen and nitrogen, mostly; then there's the ionosphere and the ozone
+layer. As I remember, the color of the sky is due to the scattering of
+light&mdash;light rays being diffracted in the air."</p>
+
+<p>"Beyond the air," Ser Perth said impatiently. "The sky itself!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;space. We were just getting out there with manned ships. Mostly
+vacuum, of course. Of course, we're still in the solar atmosphere, even
+there, with the Van Allen belts and such things. Then there are the <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 35]</span>
+stars, like our sun, but much more distant. The planets and the moon&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ignorance was bad enough," Ser Perth interrupted in amazement. He
+stared at Dave, shaking his head in disgust. "You obviously come from a
+culture of even more superstition than ignorance. Dave Hanson, the sky
+is no such thing. Put aside the myths you heard as a child. The sky is a
+solid sphere that surrounds Earth. The stars are no more like the sun
+than the glow of my cigarette is like a forest fire. They are lights on
+the inside of the sphere, moving in patterns of the Star Art, nearer to
+us than the hot lands to the south."</p>
+
+<p>"Fort," Dave said. "Charles Fort said that in a book."</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth shrugged. "Then why make me say it again? This Fort was right.
+At least one intelligent man lived in your world, I'm pleased to know.
+The sky is a dome holding the sun, the stars and the wandering planets.
+The problem is that the dome is cracking like a great, smashed
+eggshell."</p>
+
+<p>"What's beyond the dome?"</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth shuddered slightly. "My greatest wish is that I die before I
+learn. In your world, had you discovered that there were such things as
+elements? That is, basic substances which in combination produce&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," Dave interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"Good. Then of the four elements&mdash;" Dave gulped, but kept silent, "&mdash;of
+the four elements the universe is built. Some things are composed of a
+single element; some of two, some of three. The proportions vary and the
+humors and spirits change but all things are composed of the elements.
+And only the sky is composed of all four elements&mdash;of earth, of water,
+of fire and of air&mdash;in equal proportions. One part each, lending each
+its own essential quality to the mixture, so that the sky is <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 36]</span> solid as
+earth, radiant as fire, formless as water, insubstantial as air. And the
+sky is cracking and falling, as you have seen for yourself. The effects
+are already being felt. Gamma radiation is flooding through the gaps;
+the quick-breeding viruses are mutating through half the world, faster
+than the Medical Art can control them, so that millions of us are
+sneezing and choking&mdash;and dying, too, for lack of antibiotics and proper
+care. Air travel is a perilous thing; just today, a stratosphere roc
+crashed head-on into a fragment of the sky and was killed with all its
+passengers. Worst of all, the Science of Magic suffers. Because the
+stars are fixed on the dome of the sky. With the crumbling of that dome,
+the course of the stars has been corrupted. It's pitiful magic that can
+be worked without regard to the conjunctions of the planets; but it is
+all the magic that is left to us. When Mars trines Neptune, the Medical
+Art is weak; even while we were conjuring you, the trine occurred. It
+almost cost your life. And it should not have occurred for another seven
+days."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence, while Ser Perth let Dave consider it. But it was too
+much to accept at once, and Dave's mind was a treadmill. He'd agreed to
+admit anything, but some of this was such complete nonsense that his
+mind rejected it automatically. Yet he was sure Ser Perth was serious;
+there was no humor on the face of the prissy thin-mustached man before
+him. Nor had the Sather Karf considered it a joke, he was sure. He had a
+sudden vision of the latter strangling two men from a distance of thirty
+feet without touching them. That couldn't happen in a sane world,
+either.</p>
+
+<p>Dave asked weakly, "Could I have a drink?"</p>
+
+<p>"With a sylph around?" Ser Perth grimaced. "You <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 37]</span> wouldn't have a chance.
+Now, is all clear to you, Dave Hanson?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. Except for one thing. What am I supposed to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Repair our sky. It should not be too difficult for a man of your
+reputation. You built a wall across a continent high and strong enough
+to change the air currents and affect all your weather&mdash;and that in the
+coldest, meanest country in your world. You come down to us as one of
+the greatest engineers of history, Dave Hanson, so great that your fame
+has penetrated even to our world, through the viewing pools of our
+wisest historians. There is a shrine and monument in your world. 'Dave
+Hanson, to whom nothing was impossible.' Well, we have a nearly
+impossible task: a task of engineering and building. If our Science of
+Magic could be relied upon&mdash;but it cannot; it never can be, until the
+sky is fixed. We have the word of history: no task is impossible to Dave
+Hanson."</p>
+
+<p>Dave looked at the smug face and a slow grin crept over his own, in
+spite of himself. "Ser Perth, I'm afraid you've made a slight mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"We don't make mistakes in such matters. You're Dave Hanson," Ser Perth
+said flatly. "Of all the powers of the Science, the greatest lies in the
+true name. We evoked you by the name of Dave Hanson. You <i>are</i> Dave
+Hanson, therefore."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't try to deceive us," Nema suggested. Her voice was troubled. "Pray
+rather that we never have reason to doubt you. Otherwise the wisest of
+the Satheri would spend their remaining time in planning something
+unthinkable for you."</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth nodded vigorous assent. Then he motioned to the office. "Nema
+will show you to your quarters <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 38]</span> later. Use this until you leave. I have
+to report back."</p>
+
+<p>Dave stared after him until he was gone, and then around at the office.
+He went to the window and stared upwards at the crazy patchwork of the
+sky. For all he knew, in such a sky there might be cracks. In fact, as
+he looked, he could make out a rift, and beyond that a ... hole ... a
+small patch where there was no color, and yet the sky there was not
+black. There were no stars there, though points of light were clustered
+around the edges, apparently retreating.</p>
+
+<p>All he had to do was to repair the sky. Shades of Chicken Little!</p>
+
+<p>Maybe to David Arnold Hanson, the famed engineer, no task was
+impossible. But quite a few things were impossible to that engineer's
+obscure and unimportant nephew, the computer technician and generally
+undistinguished man who had been christened Dave. They'd gotten the
+right man for the name, all right. But the wrong man for the job.</p>
+
+<p>Dave Hanson could repair anything that contained electrical circuits or
+ran on tiny jeweled bearings, but he could handle almost nothing else.
+It wasn't stupidity or incapacity to learn, but simply that he had never
+been subjected to the discipline of construction engineering. Even on
+the project, while working with his uncle, he had seen little of what
+went on, and hadn't really understood that, except when it produced data
+that he could feed into his computer. He couldn't drive a nail in the
+wall to hang a picture or patch a hole in the plaster.</p>
+
+<p>But it seemed that he'd better put on a good show of trying if he wanted
+to continue enjoying good health.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you've got a sample of the sky that's fallen?" he asked Nema.
+"And what the heck are you <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 39]</span> doing here, anyhow? I thought you were a
+nurse."</p>
+
+<p>She frowned at him, but went to a corner where a small ball of some
+clear crystalline substance stood. She muttered into it, while a surly
+face stared out. Then she turned back to him, nodding. "They are sending
+some of the sky to you. As to my being a nurse, of course I am. All
+student magicians take up the Medical Art for a time. Surely one so
+skilled can also be a secretary, even to the great Dave Hanson? As to
+why I'm here&mdash;" She dropped her eyes, frowning, while a touch of added
+color reached her cheeks. "In the sleep spell I used, I invoked that you
+should be well and true. But I'm only a bachelor in magic, not even a
+master, and I slipped. I phrased it that I wanted you well and true.
+Hence, well and truly do I want you."</p>
+
+<p>"Huh?" He stared at her, watching the blush deepen. "You mean&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"Take care! First you should know that I am proscribed as a duly
+registered virgin. And in this time of need, the magic of my blood must
+not be profaned." She twisted sidewise, and then turned toward the door,
+avoiding him. Before she reached it, the door opened to show a dull
+clod, entirely naked, holding up a heavy weight of nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"Your sample of sky," she said as the clod labored over to the desk and
+dropped nothing with a dull clank. The desk top dented slightly.</p>
+
+<p>Dave could clearly see that nothing was on the desk. But if nothing was
+a vacuum, this was an extremely hard and heavy one. It seemed to be
+about twelve inches on a side, in its rough shape, and must have weighed
+two hundred pounds. He tapped it, and it rang. Inside it, a tiny point
+of light danced frantically back and forth.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 40]</span></p>
+
+<p>"A star," she said sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to need some place to experiment with this," he suggested. He
+expected to be sent to the deepest, dankest cave of all the world as a
+laboratory, and to find it equipped with pedigreed bats, dried unicorn
+horns and whole rows of alembics that he couldn't use.</p>
+
+<p>Nema smiled brightly. "Of course. We've already prepared a construction
+camp for you. You'll find most of the tools you used in your world
+waiting there and all the engineers we could get or make for you."</p>
+
+<p>He'd been considering stalling while he demanded exactly such things. He
+was reasonably sure by now that they had no transistors, signal
+generators, frequency meters or whatever else he could demand. He could
+make quite an issue out of the need to determine the characteristic
+impedance of their sky. That might even be interesting, at that; would
+it be anywhere near 300 ohms here? But it seemed that stalling wasn't
+going to work. They'd given him what they expected him to need, and he'd
+have to be careful to need only what they expected, or they might just
+decide he wasn't Dave Hanson.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't work on this stuff here," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why didn't you say so?" she asked sharply. She let out a cry and a
+raven came flying in. She whispered something to it, frowned, and then
+ordered it off. "There's no surface transportation available, and all
+the local rocs are in use. Well, we'll have to make do with what we
+have."</p>
+
+<p>She darted for the outer office, rummaged in a cabinet, and came back
+with a medium-sized rug of worn but gaudy design. Bad imitation Sarouk,
+Dave guessed. She tossed it onto the largest cleared space, gobbled
+some <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 41]</span> outlandish noises, and dropped onto it, squatting near one end.
+Behind her, the dull clod picked up the sample of sky and fell to his
+face on the rug. At her vehement signal, Dave squatted down beside her,
+not daring to believe what he was beginning to guess.</p>
+
+<p>The carpet lifted uncertainly. It seemed to protest at the unbalanced
+weight of the sky piece. She made the sounds again, and it rose
+reluctantly, curling up at the front, like a crazy toboggan. It moved
+slowly, but with increasing speed, sailed out of the office through the
+window and began gaining altitude. They went soaring over the city at
+about thirty miles an hour, heading toward what seemed to be barren land
+beyond. "Sometimes they fail now," she told him. "But so far, only if
+the words are improperly pronounced."</p>
+
+<p>He gulped and looked gingerly over at the city below. As he did, she
+gasped. He heard a great tearing sound of thunder. In the sky, a small
+hole appeared. There was a scream of displaced air, and something went
+zipping downwards in front of them, setting up a wind that bounced the
+carpet about crazily. Dave glanced over the edge again to see one of the
+tall buildings crumple under the impact. The three top stories were
+ripped to shreds. Then the whole building began to change. It slowly
+blossomed into a huge cloud of pink gas that rifted away, to show people
+and objects dropping like stones to the ground below. Nema sighed and
+turned her eyes away.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;it's ridiculous!" Dave protested. "We heard the rip and less than
+five seconds later, that piece fell. If your sky is even twenty miles
+above us, it would take longer than that to fall."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a thousand miles up," she told him. "And sky has no inertia until
+it is contaminated by contact with the <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 42]</span> ground. It took longer than
+usual for that piece to fall." She sighed. "It gets worse. Look at the
+signs. That break has disturbed the planets. We're moving retrograde,
+back to our previous position, out of Sagittarius! Now we'll go back to
+the character we had before&mdash;and just when I was getting used to the
+change."</p>
+
+<p>He jerked his eyes off the raw patch of emptiness in the sky, where a
+few stars seemed to be vanishing. "Your character? Isn't anything stable
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. Naturally, in each House we have a differing of
+character, as does the world itself. Why else should astrology be the
+greatest of the sciences?"</p>
+
+<p>It was a nice world, he decided. And yet the new factor explained some
+things. He'd been vaguely worried about the apparent change in Ser
+Perth, who'd turned from a serious and helpful doctor into a
+supercilious, high-handed fop. But&mdash;what about his recovery, if that was
+supposed to be determined by the signs of the zodiac?</p>
+
+<p>He had no time to ask. The carpet bucked, and the girl began speaking to
+it urgently. It wavered, then righted itself, to begin sliding
+downwards.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a ring of protection around your camp," Nema explained. "It is
+set to make entry impossible to one who does not have the words or who
+is unfriendly. The carpet could not go through that, anyway. The ring
+negates all other magic trying to pass it. And of course we have
+basilisks mounted on posts around the grounds. They're trained to hood
+their eyes, except when they sense anyone trying to enter who should
+not. You can't be turned to stone looking at one, you know&mdash;only by
+having one look at you."</p>
+
+<p>"You're cheering me up no end," he assured her.</p>
+
+<p>She smiled pleasantly and began setting the carpet <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 43]</span> down. Below, he
+could see a camp that looked much like the camps he had seen in the same
+movies from which all his clothes had been copied. There were well
+laid-out rows of sheds, beautiful lines of construction equipment and
+everything in order, as it could never be in a real camp. As he began
+walking with the girl toward a huge tent that should have belonged to a
+circus, he could see other discrepancies. The tractors were designed for
+work in mud flats and the haulers had the narrow wheels used on rocky
+ground. Nothing seemed quite as it should be. He spotted a big generator
+working busily&mdash;and then saw a gang of about fifty men, or mandrakes,
+turning a big capstan that kept it going. Here and there were neat racks
+of miscellaneous tools. Some were museum pieces. There was even a gandy
+cart, though no rails for it to run on.</p>
+
+<p>They were almost at the main tent when a crow flew down and yelled
+something in Nema's ear. She scowled, and nodded. "I'm needed back," she
+said. "Most of the men here&mdash;" She pointed to the gangs that moved about
+busily doing nothing, all in costumes similar to his, except for the
+boots and hat. "They're mandrakes, conjured into existence, but without
+souls. The engineers we have are snatched from Duality just after dying
+and revived here while their brains still retain their knowledge. They
+have no true souls either, of course, but they don't know it. Ah. The
+short man there&mdash;he's Garm. Sersa Garm, an apprentice to Ser Perth. He's
+to be your foreman, and he's real."</p>
+
+<p>She headed back to the outskirts, then turned to shout back. "Sather
+Karf says you may have ten days to fix the sky," she called. Her hand
+waved toward him in friendly good-bye. "Don't worry, Dave Hanson. I have
+faith in you." <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 44]</span></p>
+
+<p>Then she was running toward her reluctant carpet.</p>
+
+<p>Dave stared up at the mottled dome above him and at the dull
+clod&mdash;certainly a mandrake&mdash;who was still carrying the sample. With all
+this preparation and a time limit, he couldn't even afford to stall.
+He'd never fully understood why some plastics melted and others turned
+hard when heated, but he had to find what was wrong with the dome above
+and how to fix it. And maybe the time limit could be stretched a little,
+once he came up with the answer. Maybe. He'd worry about that after he
+worried about the first steps.</p>
+
+<p>Sersa Garm proved to be a glum, fat young man, overly aware of his
+importance in training for serhood. He led Dave through the big tent,
+taking pride in the large drafting section&mdash;under the obvious belief
+that it was used for designing spells. Maybe it could have been useful
+for that if there had been a single man who knew anything about
+draftsmanship. There were four engineers, supposedly. One, who had died
+falling off a bridge while drunk, was curing himself of the shock by
+remaining dead drunk. One had been a chemical engineer specializing in
+making yeast and dried soya meal into breakfast cereals. Another knew
+all about dredging canals and the last one was an electronics
+engineer&mdash;a field in which Dave was far more competent.</p>
+
+<p>He dismissed them. Whatever had been done to them&mdash;or perhaps the
+absence of a true soul, whatever that was&mdash;left them rigidly bound to
+their past ideas and totally incapable of doing more than following
+orders by routine now. Even Sersa Garm was more useful.</p>
+
+<p>That young man could offer little information, however. The sky, he
+explained pompously, was a great mystery that only an adept might
+communicate to another. He meant that he didn't know about it, Dave
+gathered.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 45]</span> Everything, it turned out, was either a mystery or a rumor.
+He also had a habit of sucking his thumb when pressed too hard for
+details.</p>
+
+<p>"But you must have heard some guesses about what started the cracks in
+the sky?" Dave suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, indeed, that is common knowledge," Sersa Garm admitted. He changed
+thumbs while he considered. "'Twas an experiment most noble, but through
+mischance going sadly awry. A great Sather made the sun remain in one
+place too long, and the heat became too great. It was like the Classic
+experiment&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"How hot is your sun?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a long pause. Then Sather Germ shrugged. "'Tis a great
+mystery. Suffice to say it has no true heat, but does send forth an
+activating principle against the phlogiston layer, which being excited
+grows vengeful against the air ... but you have not the training to
+understand."</p>
+
+<p>"Okay, so they didn't tell you, if they knew." Dave stared up at the
+sun, trying to guess. The light looked about like what he was used to,
+where the sky was still whole. North light still was like what a color
+photographer would consider 5500&deg; Kelvin, so the sun must be pretty hot.
+Hot enough to melt anything he knew about. "What's the melting point of
+this sky material?"</p>
+
+<p>He never did manage to make Sather Garm understand what a melting point
+was. But he found that one of the solutions tried had been the bleeding
+of eleven certified virgins for seven days. When the blood was mixed
+with dragonfeathers and frogsdown and melded with a genuine
+philosopher's stone, they had used it to ink in the right path of the
+planets of a diagram. It had failed. The sky had cracked and a piece had
+fallen into <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 46]</span> the vessel of blood, killing a Sather who was less than two
+thousand years old.</p>
+
+<p>"Two thousand?" Dave asked. "How old is Sather Karf?"</p>
+
+<p>"None remembers truly. He has always been the Sather Karf&mdash;at least ten
+thousand years or more. To attain the art of a Sather is the work of a
+score of centuries, usually."</p>
+
+<p>That Sather had been in sad shape, it seemed. No one had been able to
+revive him, though bringing the dead back to life when the body was
+reasonably intact was routine magic that even a sersa could perform. It
+was after that they'd begun conjuring back to Dave's world for all the
+other experts.</p>
+
+<p>"All whose true names they could find, that is," Garm amended. "The
+Egyptian pyramid builder, the man who discovered your greatest science,
+dianetics, the great Cagliostro&mdash;and what a time we had finding his true
+name! I was assigned to the helping of one who had discovered the
+secrets of gravity and some strange magic which he termed
+relativity&mdash;though indeed it had little to do with kinship, but was a
+private mystery. But when he was persuaded by divers means to help us,
+he gave up after one week, declaring it beyond his powers. They were
+even planning what might best be done to chastise him when he discovered
+in some manner a book of elementary conjuration and did then devise some
+strange new formula from the elements with which magic he disappeared."</p>
+
+<p>It was nice to know that Einstein had given up on the problem, Dave
+thought bitterly. As nice as the discovery that there was no fuel for
+the equipment here. He spent an hour rigging up a portable saw to use in
+attempting to cut off a smaller piece of the sky, and then saw the <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 47]</span>
+motor burn out when he switched it on. It turned out that all
+electricity here was d.c., conjured up by commanding the electrons in a
+wire to move in one direction, and completely useless with a.c. motors.
+It might have been useful for welding, but there was no electric torch.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis obviously not a thing of reason," Garm told him severely. "If the
+current in such a form moves first in one direction and then in the
+other, then it cancels out and is useless. No, you must be wrong."</p>
+
+<p>As Dave remembered it, Tesla had been plagued by similar doubts from
+such men as Edison. He gave up and settled finally for one of the native
+welding torches, filled with a dozen angry salamanders. The flame or
+whatever it was had enough heat, but it was hard to control. By the time
+he learned to use it, night had fallen, and he was too tired to try
+anything more. He ate a solitary supper and went to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>During the next three days he learned a few things the hard way,
+however. In spite of Garm's assurance that nothing could melt the sky,
+he found that his sample would melt slowly under the heat of the torch.
+In the liquid state, it was jet black, though it cooled back to complete
+transparency. It was also without weight when in liquid form&mdash;a fact he
+discovered when it began rising through the air and spattering over
+everything, including his bare skin. The burns were nasty, but somehow
+seemed to heal with remarkable speed. Sersa Garm was impressed by the
+discoveries, and went off to suck his thumbs and brood over the new
+knowledge, much to Dave's relief.</p>
+
+<p>More work established the fact that welding bits of the sky together was
+not particularly difficult. The liquid sky was perfectly willing to bond
+onto anything, including other bits of itself.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 48]</span></p>
+
+<p>Now, if he could get a gang up the thousand miles to the sky with enough
+torches to melt the cracks, it might recongeal as a perfect sphere. The
+stuff was strong, but somewhat brittle. He still had no idea of how to
+get the stars and planets back in the right places.</p>
+
+<p>"The mathematician thought of such an idea," Sersa Garm said sourly.
+"But 'twould never work. Even with much heat, it could not be done. For
+see you, the upper air is filled with phlogiston, which no man can
+breathe. Also, the phlogiston has negative weight, as every school child
+must know. Your liquid sky would sink through it, since negative weight
+must in truth be lighter than no weight, while nothing else would rise
+through the layer. And phlogiston will quench the flame of a rocket, as
+your expert von Braun discovered."</p>
+
+<p>The man was a gold mine of information, all bad. The only remaining
+solution, apparently, was to raise a scaffolding over the whole planet
+to the sky, and send up mandrakes to weld back the broken pieces. They
+wouldn't need to breathe, anyhow. With material of infinite
+strength&mdash;and an infinite supply of it&mdash;and with infinite time and
+patience, it might have been worth considering.</p>
+
+<p>Nema came out the next day with more cheering information. Her
+multi-times great grandfather, Sather Karf, regretted it, but he must
+have good news to release at once; the populace was starving because the
+food multipliers couldn't produce reliable supplies. Otherwise, Dave
+would find venom being transported into his blood in increasing amounts
+until the pain drove him mad. And, just incidentally, the Sons of the
+Egg who'd attacked him in the hospital had tried to reach the camp twice
+already, once by interpenetrating into a shipment of mandrakes, which
+indicated to what measures <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 49]</span>they would resort. They meant to kill him
+somehow, and the defense of him was growing too costly unless there were
+positive results.</p>
+
+<p>Dave hinted at having nearly reached the solution, giving her only a bit
+of his wild idea of welding the sky. She took off with that, but he was
+sure it wouldn't satisfy the Sather. In that, he was right. By
+nightfall, when she came back from the city, he was groaning in pain.
+The venom had arrived ahead of her, and his blood seemed to be on fire.</p>
+
+<p>She laid a cool hand on his forehead. "Poor Dave," she said. "If I were
+not registered and certified, sometimes I feel that I might ... but no
+more of that. Ser Perth sends you this unguent which will hold back the
+venom for a time, cautioning you not to reveal his softness." Ser Perth,
+it seemed, had reverted to his pre-Sagittarian character as expected.
+"And Sather Karf wants the full plans at once. He is losing patience."</p>
+
+<p>He began rubbing on the ointment, which helped slightly. She peeled back
+his shirt and began helping, apparently delighted with the hair which
+he'd sprouted on his chest since his reincarnation. The unguent helped,
+but it wasn't enough.</p>
+
+<p>"He never had any patience to lose. What the hell does he expect me to
+do?" Dave asked hotly. "Snap my fingers thus, yell <i>abracadabra</i> and
+give him egg in his beer?"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped to stare at his hand, where a can of beer had suddenly
+materialized!</p>
+
+<p>Nema squealed in delight. "What a novel way to conjure, Dave. Let me try
+it." She began snapping her fingers and saying the word eagerly, but
+nothing happened. Finally she turned back to him. "Show me again."<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 50]</span></p>
+
+<p>He was sure it wouldn't work twice, and he hesitated, not too willing to
+have his stock go down with her. Then he gave in.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Abracadabra!</i>" he said, and snapped his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>There were results at once. This time an egg appeared in his hand, to
+the delighted cry of Nema. He bent to look at it uncertainly. It was a
+strange looking egg&mdash;more like one of the china eggs used to make hens
+think they were nesting when their eggs were still being taken from
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly Nema sprang back. But she was too late. The egg was growing. It
+swelled to the size of a football, then was man-sized, and growing to
+the size of a huge tank that filled most of the tent. Suddenly it split
+open along one side and a group of men in dull robes and masks came
+spilling out of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Die!" the one in front yelled. He lifted a double-bladed knife, charged
+for Dave, and brought the knife down.</p>
+
+<p>The blades went through clothing, skin, flesh and bones, straight for
+Dave's heart.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 51]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>V</h2>
+
+
+<p>The knife had pierced Dave's chest until the hilt pressed against his
+rib cage. He stared down at it, seeing it rise with the heaving of his
+lungs. Yet he was still alive!</p>
+
+<p>Then the numbness of shock wore off and the pain nerves carried their
+messages to his brain. He still lived, but there was unholy agony where
+the blade lay. Coughing and choking on what must be his own blood, he
+scrabbled at the knife and ripped it out. Blood jetted from the gaping
+rent in his clothing. It gushed forth&mdash;and slowed; it
+frothed&mdash;trickled&mdash;and stopped entirely.</p>
+
+<p>As he ripped his shirt back to look, the wound was closed already. But
+there was no easing of the pain that threatened to make him black out at
+any second.</p>
+
+<p>He heard shouting, quarreling voices, but nothing made sense through the
+haze of his agony. He felt someone grab at him&mdash;more than one
+person&mdash;and they were dragging him willy-nilly across the ground.
+Something was clutched around his throat, almost choking him. He opened
+his eyes just as something clicked behind him.</p>
+
+<p>The huge, translucent walls of the monstrous egg were all around him and
+the opened side was closing.</p>
+
+<p>The pain began to abate. The bleeding had already stopped entirely and
+his lungs seemed to have cleared themselves of the blood and froth in
+them. Now with the ache of the wound ceasing, Dave could still feel the
+venom burning in his blood, and the constriction around his throat was
+still there, making it hard to breathe. He <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 52]</span> sat up, trying to free
+himself. The constriction came from an arm around his neck, but he
+couldn't see to whom it belonged, and there was no place to move aside
+in the corner of the egg.</p>
+
+<p>From inside, the walls of the egg were transparent enough for him to see
+cloudy outlines of what lay beyond. He could see the ground sweeping
+away beneath them from all points. A man had run up and was standing
+beside the egg, beating at it. The man suddenly shot up like a fountain,
+growing huge; he towered over them, until he seemed miles high and the
+giant structures Dave could see were only the turned-up toes of the
+man's shoes. One of those shoes was lifting, as if the man meant to step
+on the egg.</p>
+
+<p>They must be growing smaller again.</p>
+
+<p>A voice said tightly: "We're small enough, Bork. Can you raise the wind
+for us now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hold on." Bork's voice seemed sure of itself.</p>
+
+<p>The egg tilted and soared. Dave was thrown sidewise and had to fight for
+balance. He stared unbelievingly through the crystal shell. They rose
+like a Banshee jet. There was a shaggy, monstrous colossus in the
+distance, taller than the Himalayas&mdash;the man who had been beside them.
+Bork grunted. "Got it! We're all right now." He chanted something in a
+rapid undertone "All right, relax. That will teach them not to work
+resonance magic inside a protective ring; the egg knows how we could
+have got through otherwise. Lucky we were trying at the right time,
+though. The Satheri must be going crazy. Wait a minute, this tires the
+fingers."</p>
+
+<p>The man called Bork halted the series of rapid passes he had been
+making, flexing his fingers with a grimace. The spinning egg began to
+drop at once, but he let out a long, keening cry, adding a slight flip
+of his other <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 53]</span> arm. Outside, something like a mist drew near and swirled
+around them. It looked huge to Dave, but must have been a small thing in
+fact. Now they began speeding along smoothly again. The thing was
+probably another sylph, strong enough to move them in their present
+reduced size.</p>
+
+<p>Bork pointed his finger. "There's the roc!" He leaned closer to the wall
+of the tiny egg and shouted. The sylph changed direction, and began to
+bob about.</p>
+
+<p>It drifted gently, while Bork pulled a few sticks with runes written on
+them toward him and made a hasty assembly of them. At once, there was a
+feeling of growing, and the sylph began to shrink away from them. Now
+they were falling swiftly, growing as they dropped. Dave felt his
+stomach twist, until he saw they were heading toward a huge bird that
+was cruising along under them, drawing closer. It looked like a cross
+between a condor and a hawk, but its wing span must have been over three
+hundred feet. It slipped under the egg, catching the falling object
+deftly on a cushion-like attachment between its wings, and then struck
+off briskly toward the east.</p>
+
+<p>Bork snapped the side of the egg open and stepped out while the others
+followed. Dave tried to crawl out, but something held him back. It
+wasn't until Bork's big hand reached in to help him that he made it.
+When all were out, Bork tapped the egg-shaped object and caught it as it
+shrank. When it was small enough, he pocketed it.</p>
+
+<p>Dave sat up again, examining himself, now that he had more room. His
+clothing was a mess, spattered with drying blood, but he seemed unharmed
+now. Even the burning of the venom was gone. He reached for the <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 54]</span> arm
+around his neck and began breaking it free from its stranglehold.</p>
+
+<p>From behind an incredulous cry broke out. Nema sprawled across him,
+staring at his face and burying her head against his shoulder. "Dave!
+You're not dead! You're alive!"</p>
+
+<p>Dave was still amazed at that himself. But Bork snorted. "Of course he
+is. Why'd we take him along with you hanging on in a faint if he were
+dead? When the snetha-knife kills, it kills completely. They stay dead,
+or they don't die. Sagittarian?"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded, and the big man seemed to be doing some calculations in his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah," he decided. "It would be. There was one second there around
+midnight when all the signs were at their absolute maximum
+favorableness. Someone must have said some pretty dangerous health
+spells over him then." He turned to Dave, as if aware that the other was
+comparatively ignorant of such matters. "Happened once before, without
+this mess-up of the signs. They revived a corpse and found he was
+unkillable from then on. He lasted eight thousand years, or something
+like that, before he got burned trying to control a giant salamander.
+They cut off his head once, but it healed before the axe was all the way
+through. Woops!"</p>
+
+<p>The bird had dipped downward, rushing toward the ground. It landed at a
+hundred miles an hour and managed to stop against a small entrance to a
+cave in the hillside. Except for the one patch where the bird had
+lighted, they were in the middle of a dense forest.</p>
+
+<p>Dave and Nema were hustled into the cave, while the others melted into
+the woods, studying the skies. She clung to Dave, crying something about
+how the Sons of the Egg would torture them.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 55]</span></p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said finally. "Who are these sons of eggs? And what have
+they got against me?"</p>
+
+<p>"They're monsters," she told him. "They used to be the antimagic
+individualists. They wanted magic used only when other means wouldn't
+work. They fought against the Satheri. While magic produced their food
+and made a better world for them, they hated it because they couldn't do
+it for themselves. And a few renegade priests like my brother joined
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"Your brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"She means me," Bork said. He came in to drop on his haunches and grin
+at Dave. There was no sign of personal hatred in his look. "I used to be
+a stooge for Sather Karf, before I got sick of it. How do you feel, Dave
+Hanson?"</p>
+
+<p>Dave considered it, still in wonder at the truth. "I feel good. Even the
+venom they were putting in my blood doesn't seem to hurt any more."</p>
+
+<p>"Fine. Means the Sather Karf must believe we killed you&mdash;he must have
+the report by now. If he thinks you're dead, there's no point in his
+giving chase; he knows I wouldn't let them kill Nema, even if she is a
+little fool. Anyhow, he's not really such a bad old guy, Dave&mdash;not, like
+some of those Satheri. Well, you figure how you'd like it if you were
+just a simple man and some priest magicked her away from you&mdash;and then
+sent her back with enough magic of her own to be a witch and make life
+hell for you because she'd been kicked out by the priest, but he hadn't
+pulled the wanting spell off her. Or anything else you wanted and
+couldn't keep against magic. Sure, they fed us. They had to, after they
+took away our fields and the kine, and got everyone into the habit of
+taking their dole instead of earning our living in the old way. They
+made slaves of <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 56]</span> us. Any man who lets another be responsible for him <i>is</i>
+a slave. It's a fine world for the Satheri, if they can keep the egg
+from breaking."</p>
+
+<p>"What's all this egg nonsense?"</p>
+
+<p>Bork shrugged. "Plain good sense. Why should there be a sky shell around
+the planet? Look, there's a legend here. You should know it, since for
+all I know it has some meaning for you. Long ago&mdash;or away, or
+whatever&mdash;there was a world called Thar&eacute; and another called Erath. Two
+worlds, separate and distinct, on their own branching time paths. They
+must have been that way since the moment of creation. One was a world of
+rule and law. One plus one might not always equal two, but it had to
+equal something. There seems to be some similarity to your world in
+that, doesn't there? The other was&mdash;well, you'd call it chaos, though it
+had some laws, if they could be predicted. One plus one there
+depended&mdash;or maybe there was no such thing as unity. Mass-energy wasn't
+conserved. It was deserved. It was a world of anarchy, from your point
+of view. It must have been a terrible place to live, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated somberly. "As terrible as this one is getting to be," he
+said at last. "Anyway, there were people who lived there. There were the
+two inhabited worlds in their own time lines, or probability orbits, or
+whatever. You know, I suppose, how worlds of probability would separate
+and diverge as time goes on? Of course. Well, these two worlds
+<i>coalesced</i>."</p>
+
+<p>He looked searchingly at Dave. "Do you see it? The two time lines came
+together. Two opposites fused into one. Don't ask me to explain it; it
+was long ago, and all I know for sure is that it happened. The two
+worlds met and fused, and out of the two came this world, in what the
+books call the <i>Dawnstruggle</i>. When it was over,<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 57]</span> our world was as it
+has been for thousands of centuries. In fact, one result was that in
+theory, neither original world could have a real past, and the fusion
+was something that had been&mdash;no period of change. It's pretty
+complicated."</p>
+
+<p>"It sounds worse than that," Dave grumbled. "But while that might
+explain the mystery of magic working here, it doesn't explain your sky."</p>
+
+<p>Bork scratched his head. "No, not too well," he admitted. "I've always
+had some doubts about whether or not all the worlds have a shell around
+them. I don't know. But our world does, and the shell is cracking. The
+Satheri don't like it; they want to stop it. We want it to happen. For
+the two lines that met and fused into one have an analogue. Doesn't the
+story of that fusion suggest something to you, Dave Hanson? Don't you
+see it, the male principle of rule and the female principle of whim;
+they join, and the egg is fertile! Two universes join, and the result is
+a nucleus world surrounded by a shell, like an egg. We're a universe
+egg. And when an egg hatches, you don't try to put it back together!"</p>
+
+<p>He didn't look like a fanatic, Dave told himself. Crazy or not, he took
+this business of the hatching egg seriously. But you could never be sure
+about anyone who joined a cult. "What is your egg going to hatch into?"
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The big man shrugged. "Does an egg know it is going to become a hen&mdash;or
+maybe a fish? We can't possibly tell, of course."</p>
+
+<p>Dave considered it. "Don't you even have a guess?"</p>
+
+<p>Bork answered shortly, "No." He looked worried, Dave thought, and
+guessed that even the fanatics were not quite sure they <i>wanted</i> to be
+hatched. Bork shrugged again.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 58]</span></p>
+
+<p>"An egg has got to hatch," he said. "That's all there is to it. We
+prophesied this, oh, two hundred years ago. The Satheri laughed. Now
+they've stopped laughing, but they want to stop it. What happens to a
+chick when it is stopped from hatching? Does it go on being a chick, or
+does it die? It dies, of course. And we don't want to die. No, Dave
+Hanson, we don't know what happens next&mdash;but we do know that we must go
+through with it. I have nothing against you personally&mdash;but I can't let
+you stop us. That's why we tried to kill you. If I could, I'd kill you
+now, with the snetha-knife so they couldn't revive you."</p>
+
+<p>Dave said reasonably, "You can't expect me to like it, you know. The
+Satheri, at least, saved my life&mdash;" He stopped in confusion. Bork was
+staring at him in hilarious incredulousness that broke into roars of
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"You mean ... Dave Hanson, do you believe everything they tell you?
+Don't you know that the Satheri arranged to kill you first? They needed
+a favorable death conjunction to bring you back to life; they got it&mdash;by
+arranging an accident!"</p>
+
+<p>Nema cried out in protest. "That's a lie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," Bork said mildly. "You always were on their side, little
+sister. You were also usually a darned nuisance, fond as I was of you.
+Come here."</p>
+
+<p>He caught her and yanked a single hair out of her head. She screamed and
+tried to claw him, then fought for the hair. Bork was immovable. He held
+her off easily with one hand while the fingers of the other danced in
+the air. He spoke what seemed to be a name, though it bore no
+resemblance to Nema. She quieted, trembling.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll find a broom near the entrance, little sister. Take it and go
+back, to forget that Dave Hanson lives.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 59]</span> You saw him die and were
+dragged off with us and his body. You escaped before we reached our
+hideaway. By the knot I tie in your true hair and by your secret name,
+this I command."</p>
+
+<p>She blinked slowly and looked around as Bork burned the knotted hair.
+Her eyes swept past Bork and Dave without seeing them and centered on
+the broom one man held out to her, without appearing to see him, either.
+She seized the broom. A sob came to her throat. "The devil! The renegade
+devil! He didn't have to kill Dave! He didn't&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice died away as she ran toward the clearing. Dave made no
+protest. He suspected Bork was putting the spell on her for her own
+good, and he agreed that she was better out of all this.</p>
+
+<p>"Now where were we?" Bork asked. "Oh, yes, I was trying to convert you
+and knowing I'd failed already. Of course, I don't know that they killed
+you first&mdash;but those are their methods. Take it from me, I know. I was
+the youngest Ser ever to be accepted for training as a Sather. They
+wanted you, so they got you."</p>
+
+<p>Dave considered it. It seemed as likely as anything else. "Why me?" he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Because you can put back the sky. At least, the Satheri think so, and I
+must admit that in some ways they are smarter than we."</p>
+
+<p>Dave started to protest, but Bork cut him off.</p>
+
+<p>"I know all about your big secret. You're not the engineer, whose true
+name was longer. We know all that. Our pools are closer to perfection
+than theirs, not being contaminated by city air, and we see more. But
+there is a cycle of confirmation; if prophecy indicates a thing will
+happen, it will happen&mdash;though not always as expected. <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 60]</span>The prophecy
+fulfills itself, rather than being fulfilled. Then there are the words
+on the monument&mdash;a monument meant for your uncle, but carrying your true
+name, because his friends felt the short form sounded better. It was
+something of a coincidence that they had the wrong true name. But
+prophecy is always strongest when based on coincidence&mdash;that is a prime
+rule. And those words coupled with our revelations prophesy that
+<i>you</i>&mdash;not your uncle&mdash;can do the impossible. So what are we going to do
+with you?"</p>
+
+<p>Bork's attitude was reassuring, somehow. It was nearer his own than any
+Dave had heard on this world. And the kidnapping was beginning to look
+like a relief. The Sons of the Egg had gotten him off the hook with
+Sather Karf. He grinned and stretched back. "If I'm unkillable, Bork,
+what can you do?"</p>
+
+<p>The big man grinned back. "Flow rock around you up to your nose and toss
+you into a lake. You'd live there&mdash;but you'd always be drowning and
+you'd find it slightly unpleasant for the next few thousand years! It's
+not as bad as being turned into a mangrove with your soul intact, but it
+would last longer. And don't think the Satheri can't pull a lot worse
+than that. They have your name&mdash;everyone has your secret name here&mdash;and
+parts of you."</p>
+
+<p>The conversation was suddenly less pleasant. Dave thought it over. "I
+could stay here and join your group. I might as well, since I can't
+really help the Satheri anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>"They'd spot your aura eventually. They'll be checking around here for
+us for a while. Of course, we might do something about it, if you really
+converted. But I don't think you would, if you knew more." Bork got up
+and headed for the entrance. "I wasn't going to let <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 61]</span> you see the
+risings, but now maybe I will. If you still want to join, it might be
+worked. Otherwise, I'll think of something else."</p>
+
+<p>Dave followed the man out into the clearing. A few men were just
+planning to leave, and they looked at Dave suspiciously, but made no
+protest. One, whom Dave recognized as the leader with the snetha-knife,
+scowled.</p>
+
+<p>"The risings are almost due, Bork," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Bork nodded. "I know, Malok. I've decided to let Dave Hanson watch.
+Dave, this is our leader here, Res Malok."</p>
+
+<p>Dave felt no strong love for his would-be murderer, and it seemed to be
+mutual. But no protest was lodged. Apparently Bork was their top
+conjurer, and privileged. They crossed the clearing and went through the
+woods toward another, smaller one. Here a group of some fifty men were
+watching the sky, obviously waiting. Others stood around, watching them
+and avoiding looking up. Almost directly overhead, there was a rent
+place where the strange absence of color or feature indicated a hole in
+the dome over them. As it drew nearer true vertical, a chanting began
+among the men with up-turned faces. Their hands went upwards, fingers
+spread and curled into an unnatural position. Then they stood waiting.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like it," Bork whispered to Dave. "This is one of the reasons
+we're growing too weak to fight the Satheri."</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong with a ceremony of worship, if you must worship your
+eggshell?" Dave asked.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll see. That was all it was once&mdash;just worship. But now for weeks,
+things are changing. They think it's a sign of favor, but I don't know.
+There, watch!"</p>
+
+<p>The hole in the sky was directly overhead now, and <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 62]</span> the moaning had
+risen in pitch. Across the little clearing, Malok began backing quietly
+away, carefully not looking upwards. Nobody but Dave seemed to notice
+his absence. There was a louder moan.</p>
+
+<p>One of the men in the clearing began to rise upwards slowly. His body
+was rigid as it lifted a foot, ten feet, then a hundred above the
+ground. Now it picked up speed, and rushed upwards. Another began to
+rise, and another. In seconds, more than half of those who had waited
+were screaming upwards toward the hole in the sky. They disappeared in
+the distance.</p>
+
+<p>Those who had merely stood by and those who had worshipped waited a few
+seconds more, but no more rose. The men sighed and began moving out of
+the clearing. Dave arose to follow, but Bork gestured for him to wait.</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes&mdash;" he said.</p>
+
+<p>They were alone now. Still Bork waited, staring upwards. Then Dave saw
+something in the sky. A speck appeared and came hurtling down. In
+seconds, it was the body of one of the men who had risen. Dave felt his
+stomach tighten and braced himself. There was no slowing as the body
+fell. It landed in the center of the clearing, without losing speed, but
+with less noise than he had expected.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the shattered body, there could be no question of its
+being dead.</p>
+
+<p>Bork's face was solemn. "If you're thinking of joining, you'd better
+know the worst. You're too easily shocked to make a good convert unless
+you're prepared. The risings have been going on for some time. Malok
+swears it proves we are right. But I've seen five other bodies come down
+like this. What does it mean? Are <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 63]</span> they stillborn? We don't know. Shall
+I revive him for you?"</p>
+
+<p>Dave felt sick as he stared at the ghastly terror on the face of the
+corpse. The last thing he wanted to see was its revival, but his
+curiosity about the secret in the sky could not be denied. He nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Bork drew a set of phials and implements in miniature size from under
+his robe. "This is routine," he said. He snapped his fingers and
+produced a small flame over the heart of the corpse. Into that he began
+dusting powders, mixing them with something that looked like blood.
+Finally he called a name and a command. There was a sharp explosion, a
+hissing, and Bork's voice calling.</p>
+
+<p>The dead man flowed together and was whole. He stood up woodenly, with
+his face frozen. "Who calls?" he asked in an uninflected, hollow voice.
+"Why am I called? I have no soul."</p>
+
+<p>"We call," Bork answered. "Tell us what you saw at the hole in the sky."</p>
+
+<p>A scream tore from the throat of the thing, and its hands came up to its
+eyes, tearing at them. Its mouth worked soundlessly, and breath sucked
+in. Then a single word came out.</p>
+
+<p>"Faces!"</p>
+
+<p>It fell onto the grass, distorted in death again. Bork shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>"The others were the same," he said. "And he can't be revived again.
+Even the strongest spell can't bring back his soul. That is gone,
+somehow."</p>
+
+<p>Dave shivered. "And knowing that, you'd still fight against repairing
+the sky?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hatching is probably always horrible from inside the shell," Bork
+answered. "Do you still want to join us? No, I thought not. Well, then,
+let's go back. We might <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 64]</span> as well try to eat something while I think
+about what to do with you."</p>
+
+<p>Malok and most of the others were gone when they reached the cave again.
+Bork fell to work with some scraps of food, cursing the configurations
+of the planets as his spell refused to work. Then suddenly the scraps
+became a mass of sour-smelling stuff. Bork made a face as he tasted it,
+but he ate it in silence. Dave couldn't force himself to put it in his
+mouth, though he was hungry by then.</p>
+
+<p>He considered, and then snapped his fingers. "Abracadabra," he cried. He
+swore as something wet and slimy that looked like seaweed plopped into
+his hand. The next time he got a limp fish that had been dead far too
+long. But the third try worked better. This time, a whole bunch of
+bananas appeared. They were a little riper than he liked, but some of
+them were edible enough. He handed some to the other man, who quickly
+abandoned his own creation.</p>
+
+<p>Bork was thoughtful as he ate. Finally he grimaced. "New magic!" he
+said. "Maybe that's the secret of the prophecy. I thought you knew no
+magic."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't," Dave admitted. He was still tingling inside himself at this
+confirmation of his earlier discovery. It was unpredictable magic, but
+apparently bore some vague relationship to what he was wishing for.</p>
+
+<p>"So the lake's out," Bork decided. "With unknown powers at your command,
+you might escape in time. Well, that settles it. There's one place where
+nobody will look for you or listen to you. You'll be nothing but another
+among millions, and that's probably the best hiding place for you. With
+the overseers they have, you couldn't even turn yourself back to the
+Satheri, though I'll admit I'm hoping you don't want them to find you." <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 65]</span></p>
+
+<p>"And I was beginning to think you liked me," Dave commented bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>Bork grinned. "I do, Dave Hanson. That's why I'm picking the easiest
+place to hide you I can think of. It will be hell, but anything else
+would be worse. Better strip and put this cloth on."</p>
+
+<p>The thing he held out was little more than a rag, apparently torn from
+one of the robes. "Come on, strip, or I'll burn off your clothes with a
+salamander. There, that's better. Now wrap the cloth around your waist
+and let it hang down in front. It'll be easier on you if you don't
+attract much attention. The sky seems to indicate the planets favor
+teleportation now. Be quick before I change my mind and think of
+something worse!"</p>
+
+<p>Dave didn't see what he did this time, but there was a puff of flame in
+front of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The next second, he stood manacled in a long line of men loaded with
+heavy stones. Over their backs fell the cutting lashes of a whip. Far
+ahead was a partially finished pyramid. Dave was obviously one of the
+building slaves.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 66]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>VI</h2>
+
+
+<p>Sunrise glared harshly over the desert. It was already hot enough to
+send heat waves dancing over the sand as Hanson wakened under the bite
+of a lash. The overseers were shouting and kicking the slaves awake.
+Overhead the marred sky shone in crazy quilt patterns.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson stood up, taking the final bite of the whip without flinching. He
+glanced down at his body, noticing that it had somehow developed a
+healthy deep tan during the few hours of murderous labor the day before.
+He wasn't particularly surprised. Something in his mind seemed also to
+have developed a "tan" that let him face the bite of chance without
+flinching. He'd stopped wondering and now accepted; he meant to get away
+from here at the first chance and he was somehow sure he could.</p>
+
+<p>It was made easier by the boundless strength of his new body. He showed
+no signs of buckling under physical work that would have killed him on
+his own world.</p>
+
+<p>Not all the slaves got up. Two beside him didn't move at all. Sleeping
+through that brutal awakening seemed impossible. When Hanson looked
+closer, he saw that they weren't asleep; they were dead.</p>
+
+<p>The overseer raged back along the line and saw them. He must be one of
+those conjured into existence here from the real Egypt of the past. He
+might have no soul, but a lifetime of being an overseer had given him
+habits that replaced the need for what had been a pretty slim soul <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 67]</span>
+to begin with.</p>
+
+<p>"Quitters!" he yelled. "Lazy, worthless, work-dodging goldbrick
+artists!" He knelt in fury, thumbing back the eyelids of the corpses.
+There was little need for the test. They were too limp, too waxen to be
+pretending.</p>
+
+<p>The overseer cut them out of the chain and kicked at Hanson. "Move
+along!" he bellowed. "Menes himself is here, and he's not as gentle as I
+am."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson joined the long line, wondering what they were going to do about
+breakfast. How the devil did they expect the slaves to put in sixteen
+hours of work without some kind of food? There had been nothing the
+night before but a skin of water. There was not even that much this
+morning. No wonder the two beside him had died from overwork, beatings
+and plain starvation.</p>
+
+<p>Menes was there, all right. Hanson saw him from the distance, a skinny
+giant of a man in breechclout, cape and golden headdress. He bore a whip
+like everyone else who seemed to have any authority at all, but he
+wasn't using it. He was standing hawklike on a slight rise in the sandy
+earth, motionless and silent. Beside him was a shorter figure: a pudgy
+man with a thin mustache, on whom the Egyptian headdress looked
+strangely out of place. It could only be Ser Perth!</p>
+
+<p>Hanson's staring came to an end as the lash cut down across his
+shoulders, biting through to the shoulder-bone. He stumbled forward,
+heedless of the overseers' shouting voices. Someday, if he had the
+chance, he'd flay his own overseer, but that could wait. Even the agony
+of the cut couldn't take his mind from Ser Perth's presence. Had Bork
+slipped up&mdash;did the Satheri know that Hanson was still alive, and had
+they sent Ser Perth here to locate him? It seemed unlikely, however. The
+man was paying no attention to the lines of <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 68]</span> slaves. It would be hard to
+spot one among three million, anyhow. More likely, Hanson decided, Ser
+Perth was supervising the supervisors, making an inspection tour of all
+this.</p>
+
+<p>Of all what? Apparently then this must be another of their frenzied
+efforts to find a way to put back the sky. He'd heard that they had
+called up the pyramid builder, but hadn't fully realized it would lead
+to this type of activity.</p>
+
+<p>He looked around him appraisingly. The long lines of slaves that had
+been carrying rock and rubble the day before now were being formed into
+hauling teams. Long ropes were looped around enormous slabs of quarried
+rock. Rollers underneath them and slaves tugging and pushing at them
+were the only means of moving them. The huge stones slid remorselessly
+forward onto the prepared beds of rubble. Casting back in his memory,
+Hanson could not recall seeing the rock slabs the night before. They had
+appeared as if by magic&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Obviously, they had really been conjured up by magic. But if the rocks
+could be conjured, what was the need of all the slaves and the sadistic
+overseers? Why not simply magic the entire construction, whatever it was
+to be?</p>
+
+<p>The whip hit him again, and the raging voice of the overseer ranted in
+his ears. "Get on, you blundering slacker. Menes himself is looking at
+you. Ho there&mdash;what the devil?"</p>
+
+<p>The overseer's hand spun Hanson around. The man's eyes, large and
+opaque, stared at Hanson. He frowned cruelly. "Yeah, you're the same
+one! Didn't I take the hide off your back twice already? And now you
+stand there without a scar or a drop of blood!"</p>
+
+<p>Hanson grunted feebly. He didn't want attention <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 69]</span> called to himself while
+Ser Perth was around. "I&mdash;I heal quickly." It was no more than the
+truth. Either the body they'd given him or the conjuring during the
+right split second had enabled him to heal almost before a blow was
+struck.</p>
+
+<p>"Magic!" The overseer scowled and gave Hanson a shove that sent him
+sprawling. "Blithering magic again! Magic stones that melt when you get
+them in place&mdash;magic slaves that the whip won't touch! And they expect
+us to do a job of work such as not even Thoth could dream up! They won't
+take honest work. No, they have to come snooping and conjuring and
+interfering. Wheels on rollers! Tools of steel and the gods know what
+instead of honest stone. Magic to lift things instead of honest ropes
+that shrink and wood that swells. Magic that fails, and rush, rush, rush
+until I'm half ready to be tortured for falling behind, and&mdash;you! You
+would, would you!" His voice trailed off into a fresh roar of rage as he
+caught sight of other slaves taking advantage of his attention to Hanson
+to relax. He raced off, brandishing the whip.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson tried to make himself inconspicuous after that. The wounds would
+heal, and the beatings could never kill him; but there had been no
+provision in his new body for the suppression of pain. He hungered,
+thirsted and suffered like anyone else. Maybe he was learning to take
+it, here, but not to like it.</p>
+
+<p>At the expense of a hundred slaves and considerable deterioration of the
+whips, one block of stone was in place before the sun was high overhead
+in the coppery, mottled sky. Then there was the blessing of a moment's
+pause. Men were coming down the long lines, handing something to the
+slaves. Food, Hanson anticipated.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 70]</span></p>
+
+<p>He was wrong. When the slave with the wicker basket came closer he could
+see that the contents were not food but some powdery stuff that was
+dipped out with carved spoons into the eager hands of the slaves. Hanson
+smelled his portion dubiously. It was cloying, sickly sweet.</p>
+
+<p>Hashish! Or opium, heroin, hemp&mdash;Hanson was no expert. But it was
+certainly some kind of drug. Judging by the avid way the other slaves
+were gulping it down, each one of them had been exposed to it before.
+Hanson cautiously made the pretense of swallowing his before he allowed
+it to slip through his fingers to mingle with the sand. Drug addiction
+was obviously a convenient way to make the slaves forget their aches and
+fears, to keep them everlasting anxious to please whatever was necessary
+to make sure the precious, deadly ration never stopped.</p>
+
+<p>There was still no sign of food. The pause in the labor was only for the
+length of time it took the drug-bearing slaves to complete their task.
+Ten minutes, or fifteen at the outside; then the overseers were back
+with the orders and the lashes.</p>
+
+<p>The slaves regrouped on new jobs, and Hanson found himself in a bunch of
+a dozen or so. They were lashing the hauling ropes around a twelve-foot
+block of stone; the rollers were already in place, with the crudely
+plaited ropes dangling loosely. Hanson found himself being lifted by a
+couple of the other slaves to the shoulders of a third. His clawing
+hands caught the top of the block and the slaves below heaved him
+upward. He scrambled to the top and caught the ropes that were flung up
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>From his vantage point he saw what he had not seen before&mdash;the amazing
+size of the construction project.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 71]</span> This was no piffling little Gizeh
+pyramid, no simple tomb for a king. Its base was measured in kilometers
+instead of yards, and its top was going to be proportionally high,
+apparently. It hardly seemed that there could be enough stone in the
+whole world to finish the job. As far as Hanson could see, over the
+level sand, the ground was black with the suffering millions of slaves
+in their labor gangs.</p>
+
+<p>The idiots must be trying to reach the sky with their pyramid. There
+could be no other answer to the immense bulk planned for this structure.
+Like the pride-maddened men of Babel, they were building a sky-high
+thing of stone. It was obviously impossible, and even Menes must be
+aware of that. Yet perhaps it was no more impossible than all the rest
+of the things in this impossible world.</p>
+
+<p>When the warlocks of this world had discovered that they could not solve
+the problem of the sky, they must have gone into a state of pure
+hysteria, like a chicken dashing back and forth in front of a car. They
+had sought through other worlds and ages for anyone with a reputation as
+a builder, engineer or construction genius, without screening the
+probability of finding an answer. The size of the ancient pyramid must
+have been enough to sway them. They had used Hanson, Menes, Einstein,
+Cagliostro&mdash;for some reason of their own, since he'd never been a
+builder&mdash;and probably a thousand more. And then they had half-supplied
+all of them, rather than picking the most likely few and giving full
+cooperation. Magic must have made solutions to most things so easy that
+they no longer had the guts to try the impossible themselves. A pyramid
+seemed like a ridiculous solution, but for an incredible task, an
+impossible solution had to be tried.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 72]</span></p>
+
+<p>And maybe, he thought, they'd overlooked the obvious in their own
+system. The solution to a problem in magic should logically be found in
+magic, not in the methods of other worlds. His mind groped for something
+that almost came into his consciousness&mdash;some inkling of what should
+have been done, or how they had failed. It was probably only an idle
+fancy, but&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Hey!" One of the slaves below was waving at him. While Hanson looked
+down, the slave called to another, got a shoulder to lean on, and walked
+his way up the side of the block, pushed from below and helped by
+Hanson's hands above. He was panting when he reached the top, but he
+could still talk. "Look, it's your skin, but you're going to be in
+trouble if you don't get busy. Look out for that overseer up there.
+Don't just stand around when he's in sight." He picked up a loop of rope
+and passed it to Hanson, making a great show of hard work.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson stared up at the overseer who was staring back at him. "Why is he
+any worse than the rest of this crowd?"</p>
+
+<p>The slave shuddered as the dour, slow-moving overseer began walking
+stiffly toward them. "Don't let the fact that he's an overseer fool you.
+He's smarter than most of his kind, but just as ugly. He's a mandrake,
+and you can't afford to mess with him."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson looked at the ancient, wrinkled face of the mandrake and
+shuddered. There was the complete incarnation of inhumanity in the
+thing's expression. He passed ropes around the corners until the
+mandrake turned and rigidly marched away, the blows of his whip falling
+metronome-like on the slaves he passed. "Thanks," Hanson said "I wonder
+what it's like, being a true mandrake?" <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 73]</span></p>
+
+<p>"Depends," the slave said easily. He was obviously more intelligent than
+most, and better at conserving himself. "Some mandrake-men are real. I
+mean, the magicians want somebody whom they can't just call back&mdash;direct
+translation of the body usually messes up the brain patterns enough to
+make the thinkers hard to use, especially with the sky falling. So they
+get his name and some hold on his soul and then rebuild his body around
+a mandrake root. They bind his soul into that, and in some ways he's
+almost human. Sometimes they even improve on what he was. But the true
+mandrake&mdash;like that one&mdash;never was human. Just an ugly, filthy
+simulacrum. It's bad business. I never liked it, even though I was in
+training for sersa rating."</p>
+
+<p>"You're from this world?" Hanson asked in surprise. He'd been assuming
+that the man was one of the things called back.</p>
+
+<p>"A lot of us are. They conscripted a lot of the people they didn't need
+for these jobs. But I was a little special. All right, maybe you don't
+believe me&mdash;you think they wouldn't send a student sersa here now. Look,
+I can prove it. I managed to sneak one of the books I was studying back
+with me. See?"</p>
+
+<p>He drew a thin volume from his breechclout cautiously, then slipped it
+back again. "You don't get such books unless you're at least of student
+rating." He sighed, then shrugged. "My trouble is that I could never
+keep my mouth shut. I was attendant at one of the revivatoria, and I got
+drunk enough to let out some information about one of the important
+revival cases. So here I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Umm." Hanson worked silently for a minute, wondering how far
+coincidence could go. It could go a long ways here, he decided. "You
+wouldn't have been <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 74]</span> sentenced to twenty lifetimes here by the Sather
+Karf, would you?"</p>
+
+<p>The slave stared at him in surprise. "You guessed it. I've died only
+fourteen times so far, so I've got six more lives to go. But&mdash;hey, you
+can't be! They were counting on you to be the one who really fixed
+things. Don't tell me my talking out of turn did this to you."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson reassured him on that. He recognized the man now for another
+reason. "Aren't you the one I saw dead on his back right next to me this
+morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Probably. Name's Barg." He stood up to take a careful look at the net
+of cording around the stone. "Looks sound enough. Yeah, I died this
+morning, which is why I'm fairly fresh now. Those overseers won't feed
+us because it takes time and wastes food; they let us die and then have
+us dragged back for more work. It's a lot easier on the ones they
+dragged back already dead; dying doesn't matter so much without a soul."</p>
+
+<p>"Some of them seem to be Indians," Hanson noted. He hadn't paid too
+much attention, but the slaves seemed to be from every possible
+background.</p>
+
+<p>Barg nodded. "Aztecs from a place called Tenochtitlan. Twenty thousand
+of them got sacrificed in a bunch for some reason or other. Poor devils.
+They think this is some kind of heaven. They tell me this is easy work
+compared to the type they had to undergo. The Satheri like to get big
+bunches through in one conjuration, like the haul they made from the
+victims of somebody named Tamerlane." He tested a rope, then dropped to
+a sitting position on the edge of the block. "I'll let you stay up to
+call signals from here. Only watch it. That overseer has his eyes on
+you. Make sure the ropes stay tight while we see if the thing can be
+moved."</p>
+
+<p>He started to slip over the side, hanging by his <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 75]</span> fingertips. Something
+caught, and he swore. With one hand, he managed to free his breechclout
+and drag out the thin volume that was lodged between his groin and the
+block. "Here, hold this for me until we meet tonight. You've got more
+room to hide it in your cloth than I have." He tossed it over quickly,
+then dropped from sight to land on the ground below.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson shoved the book out of sight and tried to act busy again. The
+mandrake overseer had started ponderously toward him. But in a moment
+the thing's attention was directed to some other object of torture.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson braced himself as the lines of slaves beneath him settled
+themselves to the ropes. There was a loud cracking of whips and a chorus
+of groans. A small drum took up a beat, and the slaves strained and
+tugged in unison. Ever so slowly, the enormous block of stone began to
+move, while the ropes drew tighter.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson checked the rigging with half his mind, while the other half
+raced in a crazy circle of speculation. Mandrakes and mandrake-men,
+zombie-men, from the past and multiple revivals! A sky that fell in
+great chunks. What came next in this ridiculous world in which he seemed
+to be trapped?</p>
+
+<p>As if in answer to his question, there was a sudden, coruscating flare
+from above.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson's body reacted instinctively. His arm came up over his eyes,
+cutting off the glare. But he managed to squint across it, upwards
+toward what was happening in the cracked dome. For a split second, he
+thought that the sun had gone nova.</p>
+
+<p>He was wrong, but not by too much. Something had happened to the sun.
+Now it was flickering and flaming, shooting enormous jets of fire from
+its rim. It hovered at the edge of a great new hole and seemed to be <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 76]</span>
+wobbling, careening and losing its balance.</p>
+
+<p>There was a massive shriek of fear and panic from the horde of slaves.
+They began bellowing like the collective death-agony of a world. Most of
+them dropped their ropes and ran in blind panic, trampling over each
+other in their random flight for safety. The human overseers were part
+of the same panic-stricken riot. Only the mandrakes stood stolidly in
+place, flicking each running man who passed them.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson flung himself face down on the stone. There was a roar of
+tortured air from overhead and a thundering sound that was unlike
+anything except the tearing of an infinity of cloth combined with a
+sustained explosion of atomic bombs. Then it seemed as if the
+thunderbolt of Thor himself had blasted in Hanson's ears.</p>
+
+<p>The sky had ripped again, and this time the entire dome shook with the
+shock. But that wasn't the worst of it.</p>
+
+<p>The sun had broken through the hole and was falling!<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 77]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>VII</h2>
+
+
+<p>The fall of the sun was seemingly endless. It teetered out of the hole
+and seemed to hover, spitting great gouts of flame as it encountered the
+phlogiston layer. Slowly, agonizingly, it picked up speed and began its
+downward rush. Unlike the sky, it seemed to obey the normal laws of
+inertia Hanson had known. It swelled bit by bit, raging as it drew
+nearer. And it seemed to be heading straight for the pyramid.</p>
+
+<p>The heat was already rising. It began to sear the skin long before the
+sun struck the normal atmosphere. Hanson could feel that he was being
+baked alive. The blood in his arteries seemed to bubble and boil, though
+that must have been an illusion. But he could see his skin rise in giant
+blisters and heal almost at once to blister again. He screamed in agony,
+and heard a million screams around him. Then the other screams began to
+decrease in numbers and weaken in volume, and he knew that the slaves
+were dying.</p>
+
+<p>Through a slit between two fingers, he watched the ponderous descent.
+The light was enough to sear his retinas, but even they healed faster
+than the damage. He estimated the course of the sun, amazed to find that
+there was no panic in him, and doubly amazed that he could think at all
+over the torture that wracked his body.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, convinced that the sun would strike miles to the south, he
+rolled across the scorching surface of the stone block and dropped to
+the north side of it. The <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 78]</span> shock of landing must have broken bones, but
+a moment later he could begin to breathe again. The heat was still
+intense, even behind the stone block, but it was bearable&mdash;at least for
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Pieces were breaking off the sun as it fell, and already striking the
+ground. One fell near, and its heat seared at him, giving him no place
+of shelter. Then the sun struck, sending up earth tremors that knocked
+him from his feet. He groped up and stared around the block.</p>
+
+<p>The sun had struck near the horizon, throwing up huge masses of
+material. Its hissing against the ground was a tumult in his ears, and
+superheated ash and debris began to fall.</p>
+
+<p>So far as he could see, there were no other survivors in the camp. Three
+million slaves had died. Those who had found some shelter behind the
+stonework had lived longer than the others, but that had only increased
+their suffering. And even his body must have been close to its limits,
+if it could be killed at all.</p>
+
+<p>He was still in danger. If a salamander could destroy even such a body
+as his, then the fragments of sun that were still roiling across the
+landscape would be fatal. The only hope he had was to get as far away
+from the place where the sun had struck as he could.</p>
+
+<p>He braced himself to leave even the partial shelter. There was a pile of
+water skins near the base of the block, held in the charred remains of
+an attendant's body. The water was boiling, but there was still some
+left. He poured several skins together and drank the stuff, forcing
+himself to endure the agony of its passage down his throat. Without it,
+he'd be dehydrated before he could get a safe distance away.</p>
+
+<p>Then he ran. The desert was like molten iron under his bare feet, and
+the savage radiation on his back was <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 79]</span> worse than any overseer's whip.
+His mind threatened to blank out with each step, but he forced himself
+on. And slowly, as the distance increased, the sun's pyre sank further
+and further over the horizon. The heat should still have been enough to
+kill any normal body in fifteen minutes, but he could endure it. He
+stumbled on in a trot, guiding himself by the stars that shone in the
+broken sky toward a section of this world where there had been life and
+some measure of civilization before. After a few hours, the tongues of
+flame no longer flared above the horizon, though the brilliant radiance
+continued. And Hanson found that his strong and nearly indestructible
+body still had limits. It could not go on without rest forever. He was
+sobbing with fatigue at every step.</p>
+
+<p>He managed to dig a small hollow in the sand before dropping off to
+sleep. It was a sleep of total exhaustion, lacking even a sense of time.
+It might have been minutes or hours that he slept, and he had no way of
+knowing which. With the sun gone and the stars rocking into dizzy new
+configurations, there was no night or day, nor any way to guess the
+passage of time.</p>
+
+<p>He woke to a roaring wind that sent cutting blasts of sand driving
+against him. He staggered up and forced himself against it, away from
+the place where the sun had fallen. Even through the lashing sandstorm,
+he could see the glow near the horizon. Now a pillar of something that
+looked like steam but was probably vapor from molten and evaporated
+rocks was rising upwards, like the mushroom clouds of his own days. It
+was spreading, apparently just under the phlogiston layer, reflecting
+back the glare. And the wind was caused by the great rising column of
+superheated gases over the sun.</p>
+
+<p>He staggered on, while the sand gave way slowly to <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 80]</span> patches of green.
+With the sun gone and the sky falling into complete shreds, this world
+was certainly doomed. He'd assumed that the sun of this world must be
+above the sky, but he'd been wrong; like the other heavenly bodies, it
+had been embedded inside the shell. He had discovered that the sky
+material resisted any sudden stroke, but that other matter could be
+interpenetrated into it, as the stars were. He had even been able to
+pass his hand and arm completely through the sample. Apparently the sun
+had passed through the sky in a similar manner.</p>
+
+<p>Then why hadn't the shell melted? He had no real answer. The sun must
+have been moving fast enough so that no single spot became too hot, or
+else the phlogiston layer somehow dissipated the heat.</p>
+
+<p>The cloud of glowing stuff from the rising air column was spreading out
+now, reflecting the light and heat back to the earth. There was a chance
+that most of one hemisphere might retain some measure of warmth, then.
+At least there was still light enough for him to travel safely.</p>
+
+<p>By the time he was too tired to go on again, he had come to the
+beginnings of fertile land. He passed a village, but it had been looted,
+and he skirted around it rather than stare at the ghastly ghoul-work of
+the looters. The world was ending, but civilization seemed to have ended
+already. Beyond it, he came to a rude house, now abandoned. He staggered
+in gratefully.</p>
+
+<p>For a change, he had one piece of good luck. His first attempt at magic
+produced food. At the sound of the snapping fingers and his
+hoarse-voiced "abracadabra," a dirty pot of hot and greasy stew came
+into existence. He had no cutlery, but his hands served well enough.
+When it was gone, he felt better. He wiped his hands <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 81]</span> on the
+breechclout. Whatever the material in the cloth, it had stood the sun's
+heat almost as well as he had.</p>
+
+<p>Then he paused as his hand found a lump under the cloth. He drew out the
+apprentice magician's book. The poor devil had never achieved his twenty
+lifetimes, and this was probably all that was left of him. Hanson stared
+at it, reading the title in some surprise.</p>
+
+<p><i>Applied Semantics.</i></p>
+
+<p>He propped himself up and began to scan it, wondering what it had to do
+with magic. He'd had a course of semantics in college and could see no
+relationship. But he soon found that there were differences.</p>
+
+<p>This book began with the axiomatic statement that the symbol is the
+thing. From that it developed in great detail the fact that any part of
+a whole bearing similarity to the whole was also the whole; that each
+seven was the class of all sevens; and other details of the science of
+magical similarity followed quite logically from the single axiom.
+Hanson was surprised to find that there was a highly developed logic to
+it. Once he accepted the axiom&mdash;and he was no longer prepared to doubt
+it here&mdash;he could follow the book far better than he'd been able to
+follow his own course in semantics. Apparently this was supposed to be a
+difficult subject, from the constant efforts of the writer to make his
+point clear. But after learning to deal with electron holes in
+transistors, this was elementary study for Hanson.</p>
+
+<p>The second half of the book dealt with the use of the true name. That,
+of course, was the perfect symbol, and hence the true whole. There was
+the simple ritual of giving a secret name. Apparently any man who
+discovered a principle or device could use a name for it, just as
+parents could give one to their children. And there were the laws for
+using the name. Unfortunately,<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 82]</span> just when Hanson was beginning to make
+some sense of it, the book ended. Obviously, there was a lot more to be
+covered in later courses.</p>
+
+<p>He tossed the book aside, shivering as he realized that his secret name
+was common knowledge. The wonder was that he could exist at all. And
+while there was supposed to be a ritual for relinquishing one name and
+taking another, that was one of the higher mysteries not given.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning, he stopped to magic up some more food and the clothing
+he would need if he ever found the trace of civilized people again. The
+food was edible, though he'd never particularly liked cereal. He seemed
+to be getting the hang of abracadabraing up what was in his mind. But
+the clothing was a problem. Everything he got turned out to be the right
+size, but he couldn't see himself in hauberk and greaves, nor in a filmy
+nightgown. Finally, he managed something that was adequate, if the
+brilliant floral sportshirt could be said to go with levi pants and a
+morning frock. But he felt somewhat better in it. He finally left the
+frock behind, however. It was still too hot for that.</p>
+
+<p>He walked on briskly, watching for signs of life and speculating on the
+principles of applied semantics, name magic and similarity. He could
+begin to understand how an Einstein might read through one of the
+advanced books here and make leaps in theory beyond what the Satheri had
+developed. They'd had it too easy. Magic that worked tended to overcome
+the drive for the discipline needed to get the most out of it. Any good
+theoretician from Hanson's world could probably make fools of these
+people. Maybe that was why the Satheri had gone scrounging back through
+other worlds to find men who had the necessary drive to get things done <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 83]</span>
+when the going was tough.</p>
+
+<p>Twice he passed abandoned villages, but there was nothing there for him.
+He was coming toward forested ground now, something like the country in
+which the Sons of the Egg had found refuge. The thought of that made him
+go slower. But for a long time, there was no further sign of life. The
+woods thinned out to grasslands, and he went on for hours more before he
+spotted a cluster of lights ahead.</p>
+
+<p>As he drew nearer, he saw that the lights seemed to be fluorescents.
+They were coming from corrugated iron sheds that looked like aircraft
+hangars strung together. There was a woven-wire fence around the
+structures, and a sign that said simply: <i>Project Eighty-Five</i>. In the
+half-light from the sky, he could see a well-kept lawn, and there were a
+few groups of men standing about idly. Most wore white coveralls, though
+two were dressed in simple business suits.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson moved forward purposefully, acting as if he had urgent business.
+If he stopped, there would be questions, he suspected; he wanted to find
+answers, not to answer idle questions.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one at the desk in the little reception alcove, but he
+heard the sound of voices through a side door leading out. He went
+through it, to find a larger yard with more men idling. There should be
+someone here who knew more of what was going on in this world than he
+did now.</p>
+
+<p>His choice, in the long run, seemed to lie between Bork and the Satheri,
+unless he could find some way of hiding himself from both sides. At the
+moment, he was relatively free for the first time since they had brought
+him here, and he wanted to make sure that he could make the most use of
+the fact.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 84]</span></p>
+
+<p>Nobody asked anything. He slowed, drifting along the perimeter of the
+group of men, and still nobody paid him any attention. Finally, he
+dropped onto the ground near a group of half a dozen men who looked more
+alert than the rest. They seemed to be reminiscing over old times.</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;two thirty-eight an hour with overtime&mdash;and double time for
+the swing shift. We really had it made then! And every
+Saturday, never fail, the general would come out from Muroc and
+tell us we were the heros of the home front&mdash;with overtime pay
+while we listened to him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah, but what if you wanted to quit? Suppose you didn't like
+your shift boss or somebody? You go down and get your time, and
+they hand you your draft notice. Me, I liked it better in '46.
+Not so much pay, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Hanson pricked up his ears. The conversation told him more than he
+needed to know. He stood up and peered through the windows of the shed.
+There, unattended under banks of lights, stood half-finished aircraft
+shapes.</p>
+
+<p>He wouldn't get much information here, it seemed. These were obviously
+reanimates, men who'd been pulled from his own world and set to work.
+They could do their duties and their memories were complete, but they
+were lacking some essential thing that had gone out of them before they
+were brought here. Unless he could find one among them who was either a
+mandrake-man housing a soul or one of the few reanimates who seemed
+almost fully human, he'd get little information. But he was curious as
+to what the Satheri had expected to do with aircraft. The rocs had
+better range and altitude than any planes of equal hauling power.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 85]</span></p>
+
+<p>He located one man who seemed a little brighter than the others. The
+fellow was lying on the ground, staring at the sky with his hands
+clasped behind his head. From time to time, he frowned, as if the sight
+of the sky was making him wonder. The man nodded as Hanson dropped down
+beside him. "Hi. Just get here, Mac?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah," Hanson assented. "What's the score?"</p>
+
+<p>The man sat up and made a disgusted noise. "Who knows?" he answered.
+There was more emotion in his voice than might be expected from a
+reanimate; in real life on his own world, he must have had an amazing
+potential for even that much to carry over. "We're dead. We're dead, and
+we're here, and they tell us to make helicopters. So we make them,
+working like dogs to make a deadline. Then, just as the first one comes
+off the line, the power fails. No more juice. The head engineer took off
+in the one we finished. He was going to find out what gives, but he
+never came back. So we sit." He spat on the ground. "I wish they'd left
+me dead after the plant blew up. I'm not myself since then."</p>
+
+<p>"What in hell would they need with helicopters?" Hanson asked.</p>
+
+<p>The man shrugged. "Beats me. But I'm beginning to figure some things
+out. They've got some kind of trouble with the sky. I figure they got
+confused in bringing us here. This shop is one that made those big cargo
+copters they call 'Sky Hooks' and maybe they thought the things were
+just what they're called. All I know is they kept us working five solid
+weeks for nothing. I knew the power was going to fail; they had the
+craziest damn generating plant you ever saw, and it couldn't last. The
+boilers kept sizzling and popping their safety valves with no fire in
+the box! Just some little old man <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 86]</span> sitting in a corner, practicing the
+Masonic grip or something over a smudgepot."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson gestured back to the sheds. "If there's no power, what are those
+lights?"</p>
+
+<p>"Witch lights, they told us," the man explained. "Saved a lot of wiring,
+or something. They&mdash;hey, what's that?"</p>
+
+<p>He was looking up, and Hanson followed his gaze. There was something
+whizzing overhead at jet-plane speed. "A piece of the sky falling?" he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>The man snorted. "Falling sidewise? Not likely, even here. I tell you,
+pal, I don't like this place. Nothing works right. There was no fuel for
+the 'copter we finished&mdash;the one we called Betsy Ann. But the little
+geezer who worked the smudgepot just walked up to it and wiggled his
+finger. 'Start your motor going, Betsy Ann,' he ordered with some other
+mumbo-jumbo. Then the motor roared and he and the engineer, took off at
+double the speed she could make on high-test gas. Hey, there it is
+again! Doesn't look like the Betsy Ann coming back, either."</p>
+
+<p>The something whizzed by again, in the other direction, but lower and
+slower. It made a gigantic but erratic circle beyond the sheds and
+swooped back. It looked nothing like a helicopter. It looked like a
+Hallowe'en decoration of a woman on a broomstick. As it came nearer,
+Hanson saw that it <i>was</i> a woman on a broomstick, flying erratically.
+She straightened out in a flat glide.</p>
+
+<p>She came in for a one-point landing a couple of yards away. The tip of
+the broom handle hit the ground, and she went sailing over it, to land
+on her hands and knees. She got up, facing the shed.</p>
+
+<p>The woman was Nema. Her face was masklike, her <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 87]</span> eyes tortured. She was
+staring searchingly around her, looking at every man.</p>
+
+<p>"Nema!" Hanson cried.</p>
+
+<p>She spun to face him, and gasped. Her skin seemed to turn gray, and her
+eyes opened to double their normal size. She took one tottering step
+toward him and halted.</p>
+
+<p>"Illusion!" she whispered hoarsely, and slumped to the ground in a
+faint.</p>
+
+<p>She was reviving before he could raise her from the ground. She swayed a
+moment, staring at him. "You're not dead!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's so wonderful about that around here?" he asked, but not with
+much interest. With the world going to pot and only a few days left, the
+girl's face and the slim young body under it were about all the reality
+left worth thinking about. He grabbed for her, pulling her to him.
+Bertha had never made him feel like that.</p>
+
+<p>She managed to avoid his lips and slid away from him. "But they used the
+snetha-knife! Dave Hanson, you never died! It was only induced illusion
+by that&mdash;that Bork! And to think that I nearly died of grief while you
+were enjoying yourself here! You ... you mandrake-man!"</p>
+
+<p>He grunted. He'd almost managed to forget what he was, and he didn't
+enjoy having the aircraft worker find out. He turned to see what the
+reaction was, and then stared open-mouthed at his surroundings.</p>
+
+<p>There were no lights from the plane factory. In fact, there was no plane
+factory. In the half-light of the sky, he saw that the plant was gone.
+No men were left. There was only barren earth, with a tiny, limp sapling
+in the middle of empty acres.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 88]</span></p>
+
+<p>"What happened?"</p>
+
+<p>Nema glanced around briefly and sighed. "It's happening all over. They
+created the plane plant by the law of identities from that little plane
+tree sapling, I suppose; it is a plane plant, after all. But with the
+conjunctions and signs failing, all such creations are returning to
+their original form, unless a spell is used continually over them. Even
+then, sometimes, we fail. Most of the projects vanished after the sun
+fell."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson remembered the man with whom he'd been talking before Nema
+appeared. He'd have liked to know such a man before death and
+revivification had ruined him. It wasn't fair that anyone with character
+enough to be that human even as a zombie should be wiped out without
+even a moment's consideration. Then he remembered the man's own estimate
+of his current situation. Maybe he was better off returned to the death
+that had claimed him.</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly, he returned to his own problems. "All right, then, if you
+thought I was dead, what are you doing here, Nema?"</p>
+
+<p>"I felt the compulsion begin even before I returned to the city. I
+thought I was going mad. I tried to forget you, but the compulsion grew
+until I could fight it no longer." She shuddered. "It was a terrible
+flight. The carpets will not work at all now, and I could hardly control
+the broom. Sometimes it wouldn't lift. Twice it sailed so high I could
+hardly breathe. And I had no hope of finding you, yet I went on. I've
+been flying when I could for three days now."</p>
+
+<p>Bork, of course, hadn't known of her spell with which she'd forced
+herself to want him "well and truly." Apparently it had gone on
+operating even when she thought he was dead, and with a built-in sense
+of his <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 89]</span> direction. Well, she was here&mdash;and he wasn't sorry.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson took another look across the plains toward the glowing hell of
+the horizon. He reached for her and pulled her to him. She was firm and
+sweet against him, and she was trembling in response to his urging.</p>
+
+<p>At the last moment she pulled back. "You forget yourself, Dave Hanson!
+I'm a registered and certified virgin. My blood is needed for&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"For spells that won't work anyhow," he told her harshly. "The sky isn't
+falling now, kid. It's down&mdash;or most of it."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;" She hesitated and then let herself come a trifle closer. Her
+voice was doubtful. "It's true that our spells are failing. Not even the
+surest magic is reliable. The world has gone mad, and even magic is no
+longer trustworthy. But&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He was just pulling her close enough again and feeling her arms lift to
+his neck when the ground shook behind them and there was a sound of
+great, jarring, thudding steps.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson jerked around to see a great roc making its landing run, heading
+straight for them. The huge bird braked savagely, barely stopping before
+they were under its feet.</p>
+
+<p>From its back, a ladder of some flexible material snaked down and men
+began descending. The first were mandrakes in the uniform of the
+Satheri, all carrying weapons with evil-looking blades or sharp
+stickers.</p>
+
+<p>The last man off was Bork. He came toward Hanson and Nema with a broad
+grin on his face. "Greetings, Dave Hanson. You do manage to survive,
+don't you? And my little virgin sister, without whose flight I might not
+have found you. Well, come along. The roc's growing impatient!" <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 90]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>VIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>The great roc's hard-drumming wings set up a constant sound of rushing
+air and the distance flowed behind them. There was the rush of wind all
+around them, but on the bird's back they were in an area where
+everything seemed calm. Only when Hanson looked over toward the ground
+was he fully conscious of the speed they were making. From the height,
+he could see where the sun had landed. It was sinking slowly into the
+earth, lying in a great fused hole. For miles around, smaller drops of
+the three-mile-diameter sun had spattered and were etching deeper holes
+in the pitted landscape.</p>
+
+<p>Then they began passing over desolate country, scoured by winds, gloomy
+from the angry, glaring clouds above. Once, two bodies went hurtling
+upwards toward the great gaps in the sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Those risings were from men who were no worshippers of the egg's
+hatching," Bork commented. "It's spreading. Something is drawing them up
+from all over the planet."</p>
+
+<p>Later, half a square mile of the shell cracked off. The roc squawked
+harshly, but it had learned and had been watching above. By a frantic
+effort of the great wings, it missed the hurtling chunk. They dropped a
+few thousand feet in the winds that followed the piece of sky, but their
+altitude was still safe.</p>
+
+<p>Then they passed over a town, flying low. The sights below were out of a
+ghoul's bacchanalia. As the roc swept over, the people stopped their
+frenzied pursuit <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 91]</span> of sensation and ran for weapons. A cloud of arrows
+hissed upwards, all fortunately too late.</p>
+
+<p>"They blame all their troubles on the magicians," Bork explained.
+"They've been shooting at everything that flies. Not a happy time to
+associate with the Satheri, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Nema drew further back from him. "We're not all cowards like you! Only
+rats desert a sinking ship."</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody thought it was sinking when I deserted," Bork reminded her.
+"Anyhow, if you'd been using your eyes and seen the way we are
+traveling, you'd know I've rejoined the crew. I've made up with the
+Sather Karf&mdash;and at a time like this, our great grandfather was glad to
+have me back!"</p>
+
+<p>Nema rushed toward him in delight, but Hanson wasn't convinced. "Why?"
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Bork sobered. "One of the corpses that fell back from the risings added
+a word to what the others had said. No, I'll bear the weight of it
+myself, and not burden you with it. But I'm convinced now that his egg
+should not hatch. I had doubts before, unlike our friend Malok, who also
+heard the words but is doubly the fanatic now. Perhaps the hatching
+cannot be stopped&mdash;but I've decided that I am a man and must fight like
+one against the fates. So, though I still oppose much that the Satheri
+have done, I've gone back to them. We'll be at the camp of the Sather
+Karf shortly."</p>
+
+<p>That sewed everything up neatly, Hanson thought. Before, he had been
+torn between two alternatives. Now there was only one and he had no
+choice; he could never trust the Sons of the Egg with Bork turned
+against them. He stared up at the sky, realizing that more than half of
+it had already fallen. The rest seemed too weak to last much longer. It
+probably didn't make <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 92]</span> much difference what he did now or who had him;
+time was running out for this world.</p>
+
+<p>The light was dimmer by the time they reached the great capital city&mdash;or
+what was left of it. They had left the sun pyre far to the south. The
+air was growing cold already.</p>
+
+<p>The roc flew low over the city. The few people on the streets looked up
+and made threatening gestures, but there was no flight of arrows from
+the ground. Probably the men below had lost even the strength to hate.
+It was hard to see, since there was no electric lighting system now. But
+it seemed to Hanson that only the oldest and ugliest buildings were
+still standing. Honest stone and metal could survive, but the work of
+magic was no longer safe.</p>
+
+<p>One of the remaining buildings seemed to be a hospital, and the empty
+space in front of it was crammed with people. Most of them seemed to be
+dead or unconscious. Squat mandrakes were carrying off bodies toward a
+great fire that was burning in another square. Plague and pestilence had
+apparently gotten out of hand.</p>
+
+<p>They flew on, beyond the city toward the construction camp that had been
+Hanson's headquarters. The roc was beginning to drop into a long landing
+glide, and details below were easier to see. Along the beach beyond the
+city, a crowd had collected. They had a fire going and were preparing to
+cook one of the mermaids. A fight was already going on over the prey.
+Food must have been exhausted days before.</p>
+
+<p>The camp was a mess when they reached it. One section had been ripped
+down by the lash of wind from a huge piece of the sky, which now lay
+among the ruins with a few stars glowing inside it. There was a <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 93]</span>
+brighter glow beyond. Apparently one blob of material from the sun had
+been tossed all the way here and had landed against a huge rock to
+spatter into fragments. The heat from those fragments cut through the
+chill in the air, and the glow furnished light for most of the camp.</p>
+
+<p>The tents had been burned, but there was a new building where the main
+tent had been. This was obviously a hasty construction job, thrown
+together of rocks and tree trunks, without the use of magic. It was more
+of an enormous lean-to than a true building, but it was the best
+protection now available. Hanson could see Sather Karf and Sersa Garm
+waiting outside, together with less than a hundred other warlocks.</p>
+
+<p>The mandrakes prodded Hanson down from the roc and toward the new
+building, then left at a wave of the Sather Karf's hand. The old man
+stared at Hanson intently, but his expression was unreadable. He seemed
+to have aged a thousand years. Finally he lifted his hand in faint
+greeting, sighed and dropped slowly to a seat. His face seemed to
+collapse, with the iron running out of it. He looked like a beaten, sick
+old man. His voice was toneless. "Fix the sky, Dave Hanson!"</p>
+
+<p>There were angry murmurs from other warlocks in the background, but
+Sather Karf shook his head slowly, still facing Hanson. "No&mdash;what good
+to threaten dire punishments or to torture you when another day or week
+will see the end of everything? What good to demand your reasons for
+desertion when time is so short? Fix the sky and claim what reward you
+will afterwards. We have few powers now that the basis of astrology is
+ruined. But repair our sky and we can reward you beyond your dreams. We
+can find ways to return you to your own world intact. You have near
+immortality <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 94]</span> now. We can fill that entire lifetime with pleasures. We'll
+give you jewels to buy an empire. Or if it is vengeance against whatever
+you feel we are, you shall know my secret name and the name of everyone
+here. Do with us then what you like. <i>But fix the sky!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>It shook Hanson. He had been prepared to face fury, or to try lying his
+way out if there was a chance with some story of having needed to study
+Menes's methods. Or of being lost. But he had no defense prepared
+against such an appeal.</p>
+
+<p>It was utterly mad. He could do nothing, and their demands were
+impossible. But before the picture of the world dying and the decay of
+the old Sather's pride, even Hanson's own probable death with the dying
+world seemed unimportant. He might at least give them something to hope
+for while the end came.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe," he said slowly. "Maybe, if all of the men you brought here to
+work on the problem were to pool their knowledge, we might still find
+the answer. How long will it take to get them here for a council?"</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth appeared from the group. Hanson had thought the man dead in
+the ruins of the pyramid, but somehow he had survived. The fat was going
+from his face, and his mustache was untrimmed, but he was uninjured. He
+shook his head sadly. "Most have disappeared with their projects. Two
+escaped us. Menes is dead. Cagliostro tricked us successfully. You are
+all we have left. And we can't even supply labor beyond those you see
+here. The people no longer obey us, since we have no food to give them."</p>
+
+<p>"You're the only hope," Bork agreed. "They've saved what they could of
+the tools from the camp and what magical instruments are still useful.
+They've held on only for your return." <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 95]</span></p>
+
+<p>Hanson stared at them and around at the collection of bric-a-brac and
+machinery they had assembled for him. He opened his mouth, and his
+laughter was a mockery of their hopes and of himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Dave Hanson, world saver! You got the right name but the wrong man,
+Sather Karf," he said bitterly. He'd been a pretender long enough, and
+what punitive action they took now didn't seem to matter. "You wanted my
+uncle, David Arnold Hanson. But because his friends called him Dave and
+cut that name on his monument, and because I was christened by the name
+you called, you got me instead. He'd have been helpless here, probably,
+but with me you have no chance. I couldn't even build a doghouse. I
+wasn't even a construction engineer. Just a computer operator and
+repairman."</p>
+
+<p>He regretted ruining their hopes, almost as he said it. But he could see
+no change on the old Sather's face. It seemed to stiffen slightly and
+become more thoughtful, but there was no disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandson Bork told me all that," he said. "Yet your name was on the
+monument, and we drew you back by its use. Our ancient prophecy declared
+that we should find omnipotence carved on stone in a pool of water, as
+we found your name. Therefore, by the laws of rational magic, it is
+<i>you</i> to whom nothing is impossible. We may have mistaken the direction
+of your talent, but nonetheless it is you who must fix the sky. What
+form of wonder is a computer?"</p>
+
+<p>Dave shook his head at the old man's monomania. "Just a tool. It's a
+little hard to explain, and it couldn't help."</p>
+
+<p>"Humor my curiosity, then. What is a computer, Dave Hanson?"</p>
+
+<p>Nema's hand rested on Hanson's arm pleadingly, and <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 96]</span> he shrugged. He
+groped about for some answer that could be phrased in their language,
+letting his mind flicker from the modern electronic gadgets back to the
+old-time tide predicter.</p>
+
+<p>"An analogue computer is a machine that ... that sets up conditions
+mathematically similar to the conditions in some problem and then lets
+all the operations proceed while it draws a graph&mdash;a prediction&mdash;of how
+the real conditions would turn out. If the tides change with the
+position of some heavenly body, then we can build cams that have shapes
+like the effect of the moon's orbit, and gear them together in the right
+order. If there are many factors, we have a cam for each factor, shaped
+like the periodic rise and fall of that factor. They're all geared to
+let the various factors operate at the proper relative rate. With such a
+machine, we can run off a graph of the tides for years ahead. Oh,
+hell&mdash;it's a lot more complicated than that, but it takes the basic
+facts and draws a picture of the results. We use electronic ones now,
+but the results are the same."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand," Sather Karf said. Dave doubted it, but he was happy to
+be saved from struggling with a more detailed explanation. And maybe the
+old man did understand some of it. He was no fool in his own subject,
+certainly. Sather Karf pondered for a moment, and then nodded with
+apparent satisfaction. "Your world was more advanced in understanding
+than I had thought. This computer is a fine scientific instrument,
+obeying natural law well. We have applied the same methods, though less
+elaborately. But the basic magical principle of similarity is the
+foundation of true science."</p>
+
+<p>Dave started to protest, and then stopped, frowning. In a way, what the
+other had said was true. Maybe <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 97]</span> there was some relation between science
+and magic, after all; there might even be a meeting ground between the
+laws of the two worlds he knew. Computers set up similar conditions,
+with the idea that the results would apply to the original. Magic used
+some symbolic part of a thing in manipulations that were to be effective
+for the real thing. The essential difference was that science was
+predictive and magic was effective&mdash;though the end results were often
+the same. On Dave's world, the cardinal rule of logic was that the
+symbol was not the thing&mdash;and work done on symbols had to be translated
+by hard work into reality. Maybe things were really more logical here
+where the symbol was the thing, and all the steps in between thought and
+result were saved.</p>
+
+<p>"So we are all at fault," Sather Karf said finally. "We should have
+studied you more deeply and you should have been more honest with us.
+Then we could have obtained a computer for you and you could have
+simulated our sky as it should be within your computer and forced it to
+be repaired long ago. But there's no time for regrets now. We cannot
+help you, so you must help yourself. Build a computer, Dave Hanson!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's impossible."</p>
+
+<p>Sudden rage burned on the old man's face, and he came to his feet. His
+arm jerked back and snapped forward. Nothing happened. He grimaced at
+the ruined sky. "Dave Hanson," he cried sharply, "by the unfailing power
+of your name which is all of you, I hold you in my mind and your throat
+is in my hand&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The old hands squeezed suddenly, and Hanson felt a vise clamp down
+around his throat. He tried to break free, but there was no escape. The
+old man mumbled, and the vise was gone, but something clawed at <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 98]</span>Hanson's
+liver. Something else rasped across his sciatic nerve. His kidneys
+seemed to be wrenched out of him.</p>
+
+<p>"You will build a computer," Sather Karf ordered. "And you <i>will</i> save
+our world!"</p>
+
+<p>Hanson staggered from the shock of the pain, but he was no longer unused
+to agony. He had spent too many hours under the baking of the sun, the
+agony of the snetha-knife and the lash of an overseer's whip. The agony
+could not be stopped, but he'd learned it could be endured. His
+fantastic body could heal itself against whatever they did to him, and
+his mind refused to accept the torture supinely. He took a step toward
+Sather Karf, and another. His hands came up as he moved forward.</p>
+
+<p>Bork laughed suddenly. "Let up, Sather Karf, or you'll regret it. By the
+laws, you're dealing with a <i>man</i> this time. Let up, or I'll free him to
+meet you fairly."</p>
+
+<p>The old man's eyes blazed hotly. Then he sighed and relaxed. The
+clutching hands and the pain were gone from Hanson as the Sather Karf
+slumped back wearily to his seat.</p>
+
+<p>"Fix our sky," the old man said woodenly.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson staggered back, panting from his efforts. But he nodded. "All
+right," he agreed. "Like Bork, I think a man has to fight against his
+fate, no matter how little chance he has. I'll do what I can. I'll build
+the damned computer. But when I'm finished, I'll wait for <i>your</i> true
+name!"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Sather Karf laughed. "Well said, Dave Hanson. You'll have my
+name when the time comes. And whatever else you desire. Also what poor
+help we can give you now. Ser Perth, bring food for Dave Hanson!"</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth shook his head sadly. "There is none. None at all. We hoped
+that the remaining planets would find a favorable conjunction, but&mdash;" <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 99]</span></p>
+
+<p>Dave Hanson studied his helpers with more bitterness. "Oh, hell!" he
+said at last. He snapped his fingers. "Abracadabra!"</p>
+
+<p>His skill must be improving, since he got exactly what he had wished
+for. A full side of beef materialized against his palm, almost breaking
+his arm before he could snap it out of the way. The others swarmed
+hungrily toward it. At their expressions of wonder, Hanson felt more
+confidence returning to him. He concentrated and went through the little
+ritual again. This time loaves of bread rained down&mdash;fresh bread, and
+even of the brand he had wished for. Maybe he was becoming a magician
+himself, with a new magic that might still accomplish something.</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf smiled approvingly. "The theory of resonance, I see.
+Unreliable generally. More of an art than a science. But you show
+promise of remarkable natural ability to apply it."</p>
+
+<p>"You know about it?" Dave had assumed that it was completely outside
+their experience and procedures.</p>
+
+<p>"We <i>knew</i> it. But when more advanced techniques took over, most of us
+forgot it. The syllables resonate in a sound pattern with your world, to
+which you also still resonate. It won't work for you with anything from
+this world, nor will anything work thus for us from yours. We had
+different syllables, of course, for use here." Sather Karf considered
+it. "But if you can control it and bring in one of your computers or the
+parts for one&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Sixteen tries later, Dave was cursing as he stared at a pile of useless
+items. He'd gotten transistors at first. Then he lost control with too
+much tension or fatigue and began getting a bunch of assorted junk, such
+as old 201-A tubes, a transit, a crystal vase and resistors. But the
+chief trouble was that he couldn't secure working batteries.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 100]</span> He had
+managed a few, but all were dead.</p>
+
+<p>"Like the soul, electrical charges will not transfer," Sather Karf
+agreed sadly. "I should have told you that."</p>
+
+<p>There was no electricity here with which to power anything, and their
+spells could not be made to work now. Even if he could build a computer
+out of what was obtainable, there would be no way to power it.</p>
+
+<p>Overhead, the sky shattered with a roar, and another piece fell, tearing
+downwards toward the city. Sersa Garm stared upwards in horror.</p>
+
+<p>"Mars!" he croaked. "Mars has fallen. Now can there be no conjunction
+ever!"</p>
+
+<p>He tautened and his body rose slowly from the ground. A scream ripped
+from his lips and faded away as he began rushing upwards with increasing
+speed. He passed but of their sight, straight toward the new hole in the
+sky.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 101]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>IX</h2>
+
+
+<p>In the hours that followed, Dave's vague plans changed a dozen times as
+he found each idea unworkable. His emotional balance was also
+erratic&mdash;though that was natural, since the stars were completely
+berserk in what was left of the sky. He seemed to fluctuate between
+bitter sureness of doom and a stupidly optimistic belief that something
+could be done to avert that doom. But whatever his mood, he went on
+working and scheming furiously. Maybe it was the desperate need to keep
+himself occupied that drove him, or perhaps it was the pleading he saw
+in the eyes around him. In the end, determination conquered his
+pessimism.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhere in the combination of the science he had learned in his own
+world and the technique of magic that applied here there had to be an
+answer&mdash;or a means to hold back the end of the world until an answer
+could be found.</p>
+
+<p>The biggest problem was the number of factors with which he had to deal.
+There were seven planets and the sun, and three thousand fixed stars.
+All had to be ordered in their courses, and the sky had to be complete
+in his calculations.</p>
+
+<p>He had learned his trade where the answer was always to add one more
+circuit in increasing complexity. Now he had to think of the simplest
+possible similarity computer. Electronics was out, obviously. He tried
+to design a set of cams, like the tide machine, to make multiple
+tracings on paper similar to a continuous horoscope, but <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 102]</span> finally gave
+it up. They couldn't build the parts, even if there had been time.</p>
+
+<p>He had to depend on what was available, since magic couldn't produce any
+needed device and since the people here had depended on magic too long
+to develop the other necessary skills. When only the broadest powers of
+magic remained, they were hopeless. Names were still potent, resonance
+worked within its limits, and the general principles of similarity still
+applied; but those were not enough for them. They depended too heavily
+on the second great principle of contagion, and that seemed to be
+wrapped up with some kind of association through the signs and houses
+and the courses of the planets.</p>
+
+<p>He found himself thinking in circles of worry and pulled himself back to
+his problem. Normally, a computer was designed for flexibility and to
+handle varying conditions. This one could be designed to handle only one
+set of factors. It had to duplicate the courses of the objects in their
+sky and simulate the general behavior of the dome. It was not necessary
+to allow for all theoretical courses, but only for the normal orbits.</p>
+
+<p>And finally he realized that he was thinking of a model&mdash;the one thing
+which is functionally the perfect analogue.</p>
+
+<p>It brought him back to magic again. Make a doll like a man and stick
+pins in it&mdash;and the man dies. Make a model of the universe within the
+sky, and any changes in that should change reality. The symbol was the
+thing, and a model was obviously a symbol.</p>
+
+<p>He began trying to plan a model with three thousand stars in their
+orbits, trying to find some simple way of moving them. The others
+watched in fascination. They apparently felt that the diagrams he was
+drawing were some kind of scientific spell. Ser Perth was closer than <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 103]</span>
+the others, studying the marks he made. The man suddenly pointed to his
+computations.</p>
+
+<p>"Over and over I find the figure seven and the figure three thousand. I
+assume that the seven represents the planets. But what is the other
+figure?"</p>
+
+<p>"The stars," Hanson told him impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth shook his head. "That is wrong. There were only two thousand
+seven hundred and eighty-one before the beginnings of our trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"And I suppose you've got the exact orbits of every one?" Hanson asked.
+He couldn't see that the difference was going to help much.</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally. They are fixed stars, which means they move with the sky.
+Otherwise, why call them fixed stars? Only the sun and the planets move
+through the sky. The stars move with the sky over the world as a unity."</p>
+
+<p>Dave grunted at his own stupidity. That really simplified things, since
+it meant only one control for all of them and the sky itself. But
+designing a machine to handle the planets and the sun, while a lot
+simpler, was still a complex problem. With time, it would have been easy
+enough, but there was no time for trial and error.</p>
+
+<p>He ripped up his plans and began a new set. He'd need a glass sphere
+with dots on it for the stars, and some kind of levers to move the
+planets and sun. It would be something like the orreries he'd seen used
+for demonstrations of planetary movement.</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth came over again, staring down at the sketch. He drowned in
+doubt. "Why waste time drawing such engines? If you want a model to
+determine how the orbits should be, we have the finest orrery ever built
+here in the camp. We brought it with us when we moved, since it would be
+needed to determine how the sky should be repaired and to bring the time
+and the positions <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 104]</span>into congruence. Wait!"</p>
+
+<p>He dashed off, calling two of the mandrakes after him. In a few minutes,
+they staggered back under a bulky affair in a protective plastic case.
+Ser Perth stripped off the case to reveal the orrery to Hanson.</p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful piece of workmanship. There was an enormous sphere of
+thin crystal to represent the sky. Precious gems showed the stars,
+affixed to the dome. The whole was nearly eight feet in diameter. Inside
+the crystal, Hanson could see a model of the world on jeweled-bearing
+supports. The planets and the sun were set on tracks around the outside,
+with a clockwork drive mechanism that moved them by means of stranded
+spiderweb cords. Power came from weights, like those used on an
+old-fashioned clock. It was obviously all hand work, which must make it
+a thing of tremendous value here.</p>
+
+<p>"Sather Fareth spent his life designing this," Ser Perth said proudly.
+"It is so well designed that it can show the position of all things for
+a thousand centuries in the past or future by turning these cranks on
+the control, or it will hold the proper present positions for years from
+its own engine."</p>
+
+<p>"It's beautiful workmanship," Hanson told him. "As good as the best done
+on my world."</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth went away, temporarily pleased with himself, and Hanson stood
+staring at the model. It was as good as he'd said it was&mdash;and completely
+damning to all of his theories and hopes. No model he could make would
+equal it. But in spite of it and all its precise analogy to the universe
+around him, the sky was still falling in shattered bits!</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf and Bork had come over to join Hanson. They waited
+expectantly, but Hanson could think of nothing to do. It had already
+been done&mdash;and had failed.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 105]</span> The old man dropped a hand on his shoulder.
+There was the weight of all his centuries on the Sather, yet a curious
+toughness showed through his weariness. "What is wrong with the orrery?"
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing&mdash;nothing at all, damn it!" Hanson told him. "You wanted a
+computer&mdash;and you've got it. You can feed in data as to the hour, day,
+month and year, turn the cranks, and the planets there will turn to
+their proper position exactly as the real planets should run. You don't
+need to read the results off graph paper. What more could any analogue
+computer do? But it doesn't influence the sky."</p>
+
+<p>"It was never meant to," the old man said, surprise in his voice. "Such
+power&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Then he stopped, staring at Hanson while something almost like awe
+spread over his face. "Yet ... the prophecy and the monument were right!
+You have unlocked the impossible! Yet you seem to know nothing of the
+laws of similarity or of magic, Dave Hanson. Is that crystal similar to
+the sky, by association, by contagion, or by true symbolism? A part may
+be a symbol for the whole&mdash;or so may any designated symbol, which may
+influence the thing it is. If I have a hair from your head, I can model
+you with power over you. But not with the hair of a pig! That is no true
+symbol!"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we substituted bits of the real thing for these
+representations?" Hanson asked.</p>
+
+<p>Bork nodded. "It might work. I've heard you found the sky material could
+be melted, and we've got enough of that where it struck the camp. Any
+one of us who has studied elementary alchemy could blow a globe of it to
+the right size for the sky dome. And there are a few stars from which we
+can chip pieces enough. We can polish them and put them into the sphere
+where <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 106]</span> they belong. And it will be risky, but we may even be able to
+shape a bit of the sun stuff to represent the great orb in the sky."</p>
+
+<p>"What about the planets?" Hanson was beginning to feel the depression
+lift. "You might get a little of Mars, since it fell near here, but that
+still leaves the other six."</p>
+
+<p>"That long associated with a thing achieves the nature of the thing,"
+Sather Karf intoned, as if giving a lesson to a kindergarten student.
+"With the right colors, metals and bits of jewels&mdash;as well as more
+secret symbols&mdash;we can simulate the planets. Yet they cannot be
+suspended above the dome, as in this orrery&mdash;they must be within the
+sky, as in nature."</p>
+
+<p>"How about putting some iron in each and using a magnet on the control
+tracks to move the planets?" Hanson suggested. "Or does cold iron ruin
+your conjuring here?"</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf snorted in obvious disgust, but Bork only grinned. "Why
+should it? You must have heard peasant superstitions. Still, you'd have
+a problem if two tracks met, as they do. The magnets would then affect
+both planets alike. Better make two identical planets for each&mdash;and two
+suns&mdash;and put one on your track controls. Then one must follow the
+other, though the one remain within the sky."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson nodded. He'd have to shield the cord from the sun stuff, but that
+could be done. He wondered idly whether the real universe was going to
+wind up with tracks beyond the sky on which little duplicate planets
+ran&mdash;just how much similarity would there be between model and reality
+when this was done, if it worked at all? It probably didn't matter, and
+it could hardly be worse than whatever the risers had run into beyond
+the hole in the present sky. Metaphysics was a subject with <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 107]</span> which he
+wasn't yet fully prepared to cope.</p>
+
+<p>The model of the world inside the orrery must have been made from
+earthly materials already, and it was colored to depict land and sea
+areas. It could probably be used. At their agreement, he nodded with
+some satisfaction. That should save some time, at least. He stared
+doubtfully at the rods and bearings that supported the model world in
+the center of the orrery.</p>
+
+<p>"What about those things? How do we hold the globe in the center of
+everything?"</p>
+
+<p>Bork shrugged. "It seems simple enough. We'll fashion supports of more
+of the sky material."</p>
+
+<p>"And have real rods sticking up from the poles in the real universe?"
+Hanson asked sarcastically.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" Bork seemed surprised at Hanson's tone. "There have always
+been such columns connecting the world and the sky. What else would keep
+us from falling?"</p>
+
+<p>Hanson swore. He might have guessed it! The only wonder was that simple
+rods were used instead of elephants and turtles. And the doubly-damned
+fools had let Menes drive millions of slaves to death to build a pyramid
+to the sky when there were already natural columns that could have been
+used!</p>
+
+<p>"There remains only one step," Sather Karf decided after a moment more.
+"To make symbol and thing congruent, all must be invoked with the true
+and secret name of the universe."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson suddenly remembered legends of the tetragrammaton and the tales
+of magic he'd read in which there was always one element lacking. "And I
+suppose nobody knows that or dares to use it?"</p>
+
+<p>There was hurt pride of the aged face and the ring of vast authority in
+his voice. "Then you suppose wrong,<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 108]</span> Dave Hanson! Since this world first
+came out of Duality, a Sather Karf has known that mystery! Make your
+device and I shall not fail in the invocation!"</p>
+
+<p>For the first time, Hanson discovered that the warlocks could work when
+they had to, however much they disliked it. And at their own
+specialties, they were superb technicians. Under the orders of Sather
+Karf, the camp sprang into frenzied but orderly activity.</p>
+
+<p>They lost a few mandrakes in prying loose some of the sun material, and
+more in getting a small sphere of it shaped. But the remainder gave them
+the heat to melt the sky stuff. When it came to glass blowing, Hanson
+had to admit they were experts; it should have come as no surprise,
+after the elaborate alchemical apparatus he'd seen. Once the crystal
+shell was cracked out of the orrery, a fat-faced Ser came in with a long
+tube and began working the molten sky material, getting the feel of it.
+He did things Hanson knew were nearly impossible, and he did them with
+the calm assurance of an expert. Even when another rift in the sky
+appeared with a crackling of thunder, there was no faltering on his
+part. The sky shell and world supports were blown into shape around the
+world model inside the outer tracks in one continuous operation. The Ser
+then clipped the stuff from his tube and sealed the tiny opening
+smoothly with a bit of sun material on the end of a long metal wand.</p>
+
+<p>"Interesting material," he commented, as if only the technical nature of
+the stuff had offered any problem to him.</p>
+
+<p>Tiny, carefully polished chips from the stars were ready, and men began
+placing them delicately on the shell. They sank into it at once and
+began twinkling. The planets had also been prepared, and they also went
+into the shell, while a mate to each was attached to the <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 109]</span> tracking
+mechanism. The tiny sun came last. Hanson fretted as he saw it sink into
+the shell, sure it would begin to melt the sky material. It seemed to
+have no effect, however; apparently the sun was not supposed to melt the
+sky when it was in place&mdash;so the little sun didn't melt the shell. Once
+he was sure of that, he used a scrap of the sky to insulate the second
+little sun that would control the first sympathetically from the track.
+He moved the control delicately by hand, and the little sun followed
+dutifully.</p>
+
+<p>The weights on the control mechanism were in place, Hanson noted.
+Someone would probably have to keep them wound from now on, unless they
+could devise a foolproof motor. But that was for the future. He bent to
+the hand cranks. Sather Karf was being called to give the exact settings
+for this moment, but Hanson had a rough idea of where the planets should
+be. He began turning the crank, just as the Sather came up.</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight movement. Then the crank stuck, and there was a
+whirring of slipping gears! The fools who had moved the orrery must have
+been so careless that they'd sprung the mechanism. He bent down to study
+the tiny little jeweled gears. A whole gear train was out of place!</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf was also inspecting it, and the words he cried didn't sound
+like an invocation, though they were strange enough. He straightened,
+still cursing. "Fix it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try," Hanson agreed doubtfully. "But you'd better get the man who
+made this. He'll know better than I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He was killed in the first cracking of the sky when a piece hit him.
+Fix it, Dave Hanson. You claimed to be a repairman for such devices."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson bent to study it again, using a diamond lens <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 110]</span> one of the warlocks
+handed him. It was a useful device, having about a hundred times
+magnification without the need for exact focusing. He stared at the
+jumble of fine gears, then glanced out through the open front: of the
+building toward the sky. There was even less of it showing than he had
+remembered. Most of the great dome was empty. And now there were
+suggestions of ... shadows ... in the empty spots. He looked away
+hastily, shaken.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll need some fine tools," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"They were lost in moving this," Ser Perth told him. "This is the best
+we can do."</p>
+
+<p>The jumble of tools had obviously been salvaged from the kits on the
+tractors in the camp. There was one fairly small pair of pliers, a small
+pick and assorted useless junk. He shook his head hopelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Fix it!" Sather Karf ordered again. The old man's eyes were also on the
+sky. "You have ten minutes, perhaps&mdash;no more."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson's fingers steadied as he found bits of wire and began improvising
+tools to manipulate the tiny gears. The mechanism was a piece of superb
+craftsmanship that should have lasted for a million years, but it had
+never been meant to withstand the heavy shock of being dropped, as it
+must have been. And there was very little space inside. It should have
+been disassembled and put back piece by piece, but there was no time for
+that.</p>
+
+<p>Another thunder of falling sky sounded, and the ground heaved.
+"Earthquakes!" Sather Karf whispered. "The end is near!"</p>
+
+<p>Then a shout went up, and Hanson jerked his eyes from the gears to focus
+on a group of rocs that were landing at the far end of the camp. Men
+were springing from their backs before they stopped running&mdash;men in <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 111]</span>
+dull robes with elaborate masks over their faces. At the front was
+Malok, leader of the Sons of the Egg, brandishing his knife.</p>
+
+<p>His voice carried clearly. "The egg hatches! To the orrery and smash it!
+That was the shadow in the pool. Destroy it before Dave Hanson can
+complete his magic!"</p>
+
+<p>The men behind him yelled. Around Hanson, the magicians cried out in
+shocked fear. Then old Sather Karf was dashing out from under the cover
+of the building, brandishing a pole on which a drop of the sun-stuff was
+glowing. His voice rose into a command that rang out over the cries of
+the others.</p>
+
+<p>Dave reached for a heavy hammer, meaning to follow. The old Sather
+seemed to sense it without looking back. "Fix the engine, Dave Hanson,"
+he called.</p>
+
+<p>It made sense. The others could do the fighting, but only he had
+training with such mechanisms. He turned back to his work, just as the
+warlocks began rallying behind Sather Karf, grabbing up what weapons
+they could find. There was no magic in this fight. Sticks, stones,
+hammers and knives were all that remained workable.</p>
+
+<p>Dave Hanson bent over the gears, cursing. Now there was another rumble
+of thunder from the falling sky. The half-light from the reflected
+sunlight dimmed, and the ground shook violently. Another set of gears
+broke from the housing. Hanson caught up a bit of sun-stuff on the sharp
+point of the awl and brought it closer, until it burned his hands. But
+he had seen enough. The mechanism was ruined beyond his chance to repair
+it in time.</p>
+
+<p>He slapped the cover shut and stuck the sun-tipped awl where it would
+light as much of the orrery as possible.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 112]</span> As always, the skills of his
+own world had failed. To the blazes with it, then&mdash;when in magic land,
+magic had to do.</p>
+
+<p>He thought of calling Ser Perth or Sather Karf, but there was no time
+for that, and they could hardly have heard him over the sounds of the
+desperate fight going on.</p>
+
+<p>He bent to the floor, searching until he found a ball of the sky
+material that had been pinched off when the little opening was sealed.
+Further hunting gave him a few bits of dust from the star bits and some
+of the junk that had gone into shaping the planets. He brushed in some
+dirt from the ground that had been touched by the sun stuff and was
+still glowing faintly. He wasn't at all sure of how much he could
+extrapolate from what he'd read in the book on Applied Semantics, but he
+knew he needed a control&mdash;a symbol of the symbol, in this case. It was
+crude, but it might serve to represent the orrery.</p>
+
+<p>He clutched it in his hand and touched it against the orrery, trying to
+remember the formula for the giving of a true name. He had to improvise,
+but he got through a rough version of it, until he came to the end: "I
+who created you name you&mdash;" What the deuce did he name it? "I name you
+Rumpelstilsken and order you to obey me when I call you by your name."</p>
+
+<p>He clutched the blob of material tighter in his hand, mentally trying to
+shape an order that wouldn't backfire, as such orders seemed to in the
+childhood stories of magic he had learned. Finally his lips whispered
+the simplest order he could find. "Rumpelstilsken, repair yourself!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a whirring and scraping inside the mechanism, and Hanson let
+out a yell. He got only a hasty glimpse of gears that seemed to be back
+on their tracks <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 113]</span> before Sather Karf was beside him, driving the cranks
+with desperate speed.</p>
+
+<p>"We have less than a minute!" the old voice gasped.</p>
+
+<p>The Sather's fingers spun on the controls. Then he straightened, moving
+his hands toward the orrery in passes too rapid to be seen. There was a
+string of obvious ritual commands in their sacred language. Then a
+single word rang out, a string of sounds that should have come from no
+human vocal chords.</p>
+
+<p>There was a wrench and twist through every atom of Hanson's body. The
+universe seemed to cry out. Over the horizon, a great burning disc rose
+and leaped toward the heavens as the sun went back to its place in the
+sky. The big bits of sky-stuff around also jerked upwards, revealing
+themselves by the wind they whipped up and by the holes they ripped
+through the roof of the building. Hanson clutched at the scrap he had
+pocketed, but it showed no sign of leaving, and the tiny blob of
+sun-stuff remained fixed to the awl.</p>
+
+<p>Through the diamond lens, Hanson could see the model of the world in the
+orrery changing. There were clouds apparently painted on it where no
+clouds had been. And there was an indication of movement in the green of
+the forests and the blue of the oceans, as if trees were whipping in the
+wind and waves lapping the shores.</p>
+
+<p>When he jerked his eyes upward, all seemed serene in the sky. Sunlight
+shone normally on the world, and from under the roof he could see the
+gaudy blue of sky, complete, with the cracks in it smoothing out as he
+watched.</p>
+
+<p>The battle outside had stopped with the rising of the sun. Half the
+warlocks were lying motionless, and the other half had clustered
+together, close to the building <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 114]</span> where Hanson and Sather Karf stood. The
+Sons of the Egg seemed to have suffered less, since they greatly
+out-numbered the others, but they were obviously more shocked by the
+rising of the sun and the healing of the sky.</p>
+
+<p>Then Malok's voice rang out sharply. "It isn't stable yet! Destroy the
+machine! The egg must hatch!"</p>
+
+<p>He leaped forward, brandishing his knife, while the Sons of the Egg fell
+in behind him. The warlocks began to close ranks, falling back to make a
+stand under the jutting edge of the roof, where they could protect the
+orrery. Bork and Ser Perth were among them, bloody but hopelessly
+determined.</p>
+
+<p>One look at Sather Karf's expression was enough to convince Hanson that
+Malok had cried the truth and that their work could still be undone. And
+it was obvious that the warlocks could never stand the charge of the
+Sons. Too many of them had already been killed, and there was no time
+for reviving them.</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf was starting forward into the battle, but Hanson made no
+move to follow. He snapped the diamond lens to his eye and his fingers
+caught at the drop of sun-stuff on the awl. He had to hold it near the
+glowing bit for steadiness, and it began searing his fingers. He forced
+control on his muscles and plunged his hand slowly through the sky
+sphere, easing the glowing blob downward toward the spot on the globe he
+had already located with the lens. His thumb and finger moved downward
+delicately, with all the skill of practice at working with nearly
+invisibly fine wires on delicate instruments.</p>
+
+<p>Then he jerked his eyes away from the model and looked out. Something
+glaring and hot was suspended in the air five miles away. He moved his
+hand carefully,<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 115]</span> steadying it on one of the planet tracks. The glowing
+fire in the air outside moved another mile closer&mdash;then another. And
+now, around it, he could see a monstrous fingertip and something that
+might have been miles of thumbnail.</p>
+
+<p>The warlocks leaped back under the roof. The Sons of the Egg screamed
+and panicked. Jerking horribly, the monstrous thing moved again. For
+part of a second, it hovered over the empty camp. Then it was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson began pulling his hand out through the shell of the model,
+whimpering as his other hand clenched against the blob in his pocket. He
+had suddenly realized what horrors were possible to anyone who could use
+the orrery now. "Rumpelstilsken, I command you to let no hand other than
+mine enter and to respond to no other controls." He hoped it would offer
+enough protection.</p>
+
+<p>His hand came free and he threw the sun-bit away with a flick of his
+wrist. His hand ached with the impossible task of steadiness he had set
+it, and his finger and thumb burned and smoked. But the wound was
+already healing.</p>
+
+<p>In the exposed section of the camp, the Sons of the Egg were charred
+corpses. There was a fire starting on the roof of the building, but
+others had already run out to quench that. It sounded like the snuffling
+progress of an undine across the roof! Maybe magic was working again.</p>
+
+<p>Bork turned back from the sight of his former companions. His face was
+sick, but he managed to grin at Hanson. "Dave Hanson, to whom nothing is
+impossible," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson had located Nema finally as she approached. He caught her hand
+and grabbed Bork's arm. Like his <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 116]</span> own, it was trembling with fatigue and
+reaction.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on," he said. "Let's find some place where we can see whether it's
+impossible now for you to magic up a decent meal. And a drink strong
+enough to scare away the sylphs."</p>
+
+<p>The sylph that found them wasn't scared by the Scotch, but there was
+enough for all of them.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 117]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>X</h2>
+
+
+<p>Three days can work magic&mdash;in a world where magic works. The planets
+swung along their paths again and the sun was in the most favorable
+house for conjuration. The universe was stable again.</p>
+
+<p>There was food for all, and houses had been conjured hastily to shelter
+the people. The plagues were gone. Now the strange commerce and industry
+of this world were humming again. Those who had survived and those who
+could be revived were busily rebuilding. Some were missing, of course.
+Those who had risen and&mdash;hatched&mdash;were beyond recall, but no one spoke
+of them. If any Sons of the Egg survived, they were quiet in their
+defeat.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson had been busy during most of the time. It had been taken for
+granted that he would tend to the orrery, setting it for the most
+favorable conditions when some special major work of magic required it,
+and he had taken the orders and moved the controls as they wanted them.
+The orrery was housed temporarily in the reconstituted hall of the
+Satheri in the capital city. They were building a new hall for it, to be
+constructed only of natural materials and hand labor, but that was a
+project that would take long months still.</p>
+
+<p>Now the immediate pressure was gone, and Hanson was relaxing with Bork
+and Nema.</p>
+
+<p>"Another week," Bork was saying. "Maybe less. And then gangs of the
+warlocks can spread out to fix up all the rest of the world&mdash;and to take
+over control of their <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 118]</span> slaves again. Are you happy with your victory,
+Dave Hanson?"</p>
+
+<p>Hanson shrugged. He wasn't entirely sure, now. There was something in
+the looks of the Sather who gave him orders for new settings that
+bothered him. And some of the developments he watched were hardly what
+he would have preferred. The warlocks had good memories, it seemed, and
+there had been manifold offenses against them while the world was
+falling apart.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to put it out of his mind as he drew Nema to him. She snuggled
+against him, admiring him with her eyes. But old habits were hard to
+break. "Don't, Dave. I'm a registered and certified&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped then, blushing, and Bork chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>Ser Perth appeared at the doorway with two of the mandrakes. He motioned
+to Hanson. "The council of Satheri want you," he said. His eyes avoided
+the other, and he seemed uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" Bork asked.</p>
+
+<p>"It's time for Dave Hanson's reward," Ser Perth said. The words were
+smooth enough, but the eyes turned away again.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson got up and moved forward. He had been wondering when they would
+get around to this. Beside him, Bork and Nema also rose. "Never trust a
+Sather," Bork said softly.</p>
+
+<p>Nema started to protest, then changed her mind. She frowned, torn
+between old and new loyalties.</p>
+
+<p>"The summons was only for Dave Hanson," Ser Perth said sternly as the
+three drew up to him. But as Hanson took the arms of the other two, the
+Ser shrugged and fell in behind. Very softly, too low for the hearing of
+the mandrakes, his words sounded in <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 119]</span> Hanson's ear. "Guard yourself, Dave
+Hanson!"</p>
+
+<p>So there was to be treachery, Hanson thought. He wasn't surprised. He
+was probably lucky to have even three friends. The Satheri would hardly
+feel very grateful to a mandrake-man who had accomplished something
+beyond their power, now that the crisis was over. They had always been a
+high-handed bunch, apparently, and he had served his purpose. But he
+covered his thoughts in a neutral expression and went forward quietly
+toward the huge council room.</p>
+
+<p>The seventy leading Satheri were all present, with Sather Karf
+presiding, when Hanson was ushered into their presence. He moved down
+the aisle, not glancing at the seated Satheri, until he was facing the
+old man, drawing Nema and Bork with him. There were murmurs of protest,
+but nobody stopped him. Above him, the eyes of Sather Karf were
+uncertain. For a moment, there seemed to be a touch of friendliness and
+respect in them, but there was something else that Hanson liked far
+less. Any warmth that was there vanished at his first words.</p>
+
+<p>"It's about time," Hanson said flatly. "When you wanted your world
+saved, you were free enough with offers of reward. But three days have
+passed without mention of it. Sather Karf, I demand your secret name!"</p>
+
+<p>He heard Nema gasp, but felt Bork's fingers press against his arm
+reassuringly. There was a rising mutter of shock and anger from the
+others, but he lifted his voice over it. "And the secret names of all
+those present. That was also part of the promised reward."</p>
+
+<p>"And do you think you could use the names, Dave Hanson?" Sather Karf
+asked. "Against the weight of all our knowledge, do you think you could
+become our master that easily?" <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 120]</span></p>
+
+<p>Hanson had his own doubts. There were counter-magical methods against
+nearly all magic, and the book he had read had been only an elementary
+one. But he nodded. "I think with your name I could get my hands on your
+hearts, even if you did your worst. It doesn't matter. I claim my
+reward."</p>
+
+<p>"And you shall have it. The word of Sather Karf is good," the old man
+told him. "But there was no mention of when you would be given those
+names. You said that when the computer was finished you would <i>wait</i> for
+my true name, and I promised that you should have it when the time came,
+but not what the time would be. So you will wait, or the agreement shall
+be broken by you, not by me. When you are dying or otherwise beyond
+power over us, you shall have the names, Dave Hanson. No, hear me!"</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his hand in a brief gesture and Hanson felt a thickness over
+his lips that made speech impossible.</p>
+
+<p>"We have discussed your reward, and you shall indeed have it," Sather
+Karf went on. "Exactly as I promised it to you. I agreed to find ways to
+return you to your own world intact, and you shall be returned."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment, the thickness seemed to relax, and Hanson choked a few
+words out through it. "What's the world of a mandrake-man, Sather Karf?
+A mandrake swamp?"</p>
+
+<p>"For a mandrake-man, yes. But not for you." There was something like
+amusement in the old man's voice. "I never said you were a mandrake-man.
+That was told you by Ser Perth who knew no better. No, Dave Hanson, you
+were too important to us for that. Mandrake-men are always less than
+true men, and we needed your best. You were conjured atom by atom, id
+and ka and soul, from your world. Even the soul may be <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 121]</span> brought over
+when enough masters of magic work together and you were our greatest
+conjuration. Even then, we almost failed. But you're no mandrake-man."</p>
+
+<p>A load of sickness seemed to leave Hanson's mind. He had never fully
+realized how much the shame of what he thought himself to be had weighed
+on him. Then his mind adjusted to the new facts, dismissing his past
+worries.</p>
+
+<p>"I promised you that we would fill your entire lifetime with pleasures,"
+Sather Karf went on. "And you were assured of jewels to buy an empire.
+All this the council is prepared to give you. Are you ready for your
+reward?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" Bork's cry broke out before Hanson could answer. The big man was
+writhing before he could finish the word, but his own fingers were
+working in conjurations that seemed to hold back enough of the spells
+against him to let him speak. "Dave Hanson, your world was a world of
+rigid laws. You died there. And there would be no magic to avoid the
+fact that there you must always be dead."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson's eyes riveted on the face of Sather Karf. The old man looked
+back and finally nodded his head. "That is true," he admitted. "It would
+have been kinder for you not to know, but it is the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"And jewels enough to buy an empire on a corpse," Hanson accused. "A
+lifetime of pleasures&mdash;simple enough when that lifetime would be over
+before it began. What were the pleasures, Sather Karf? Having you reveal
+your name just before I was sent back and feeling I'd won?" He grimaced.
+"I reject the empty rewards of your empty promises!"</p>
+
+<p>"I also rejected the interpretation, but I was out-voted," Sather Karf
+said, and there was a curious reluctance <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 122]</span>as he raised his hand. "But it
+is too late. Dave Hanson prepare to receive your reward. By the power of
+your name&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Hanson's hand went to his pocket and squeezed down on the blob of sky
+material there. He opened his mouth, and found that the thickness was
+back. For a split second, his mind screamed in panic as he realized he
+could not even pronounce the needed words.</p>
+
+<p>Then coldness settled over his thoughts as he drove them to shape the
+unvoiced words in his mind. Nobody had told him that magic incantations
+had to be pronounced aloud. It seemed to be the general law, but for all
+he knew, ignorance of the law here might change the law. At least he
+meant to die trying, if he failed.</p>
+
+<p>"Rumpelstilsken, I command the sun to set!"</p>
+
+<p>He seemed to sense a hesitation in his mind, and then the impression of
+jeweled gears turning. Outside the window, the light reddened, dimmed,
+and was gone, leaving the big room illuminated by only a few witch
+lights.</p>
+
+<p>The words Sather Karf had been intoning came to a sudden stop, even
+before they could be drowned in the shouts of shock and panic from the
+others. His eyes centered questioningly on Hanson and the flicker of a
+smile crossed his face. "To the orrery!" he ordered. "Use the manual
+controls."</p>
+
+<p>Hanson waited until he estimated the men who left would be at the
+controls. The he clutched the sky-blob again. The thoughts in his mind
+were clearer this time.</p>
+
+<p>"Rumpelstilsken, let the sun rise from the west and set in the east!"</p>
+
+<p>Some of the Satheri were at the windows to watch what happened this
+time. Their shouts were more frightened than before. A minute later, the
+others were back,<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 123]</span> screaming out the news that the manual controls could
+not be moved&mdash;could not even be touched.</p>
+
+<p>The orrery named Rumpelstilsken was obeying its orders fully, and the
+universe was obeying its symbol.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow, old Sather Karf brought order out of the frightened mob that
+had been the greatest Satheri in the world. "All right, Dave Hanson," he
+said calmly. "Return the sun to its course. We agree to your
+conditions."</p>
+
+<p>"You haven't heard them yet!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless," Sather Karf answered firmly, "we agree. What else can we
+do? If you decided to wreck the sky again, even you might not be able to
+repair it a second time." He tapped his hands lightly together and the
+sound of a huge gong reverberated in the room. "Let the hall be cleared.
+I will accept the conditions in private."</p>
+
+<p>There were no objections. A minute later Hanson, Bork and Nema were
+alone with the old man. Sunlight streamed in through the window, and
+there were fleecy clouds showing in the blue sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" Sather Karf asked. There was a trace of a smile on his face and
+a glow of what seemed to be amusement in his eyes as he listened, though
+Hanson could see nothing amusing in the suggestions he was making.</p>
+
+<p>First, of course, he meant to stay here. There was no other place for
+him, but he would have chosen to stay in any event. Here he had
+developed into what he had never even thought of being, and there were
+still things to be learned. He'd gone a long way on what he'd found in
+one elementary book. Now, with a chance to study all their magical lore
+and apply it with the methods he had learned in his own world, there
+were amazing <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 124]</span>possibilities opening up to him. For the world, a few
+changes would be needed. Magic should be limited to what magic did best;
+the people needed to grow their own food and care for themselves. And
+they needed protection from the magicians. There would have to be a code
+of ethics to be worked out later.</p>
+
+<p>"You've got all the time you need to work things out, Sathator Hanson,"
+Sather Karf told him. "It's your world, literally, so take your time.
+What do you want first?"</p>
+
+<p>Hanson considered it, while Nema's hand crept into his. Then he grinned.
+"I guess I want to get your great granddaughter turned into a registered
+and certified wife and take her on a long honeymoon," he decided. "After
+what you've put me through, I need a rest."</p>
+
+<p>He took her arm and started down the aisle of the council room. Behind
+him, he heard Bork's chuckle and the soft laughter of Sather Karf. But
+their faces were sobering by the time he reached the doorway and looked
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"I like him, too, grandfather," Bork was saying. "Well, it seems your
+group was right, after all. Your prophecy is fulfilled. He may have a
+little trouble with so many knowing his name, but he's Dave Hanson, to
+whom nothing is impossible. You should have considered all the
+implications of omnipotence."</p>
+
+<p>Sather Karf nodded. "Perhaps. And perhaps your group was also right,
+Bork. It seems that the world-egg has hatched." His eyes lifted and
+centered on the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>Hanson puzzled over their words briefly as he closed the door and went
+out with Nema. He'd probably have to do something about his name, but
+the rest of the conversation was a mystery to him. Then he dismissed <span class='pagenum'>[Pg 125]</span>
+it. He could always remember it when he had more time to think about it.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>It was many millenia and several universes later when Dave Hanson
+finally remembered. By then it was no mystery, of course. And there was
+no one who dared pronounce his true name.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 126]</span><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
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+<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;"><b>Rendezvous on a Lost World</b> Chandler</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">166405 <b>Dragon Master</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;"> <b>Five Gold Bands</b> Vance</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">317552 <b>The Hard Way Up</b> Chandler </span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;"><b>Veiled World</b> Lory</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">337105 <b>Highwood</b> Barrett</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;"> <b>Annihilation Factor</b> Bayley</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">370627 <b>The Inheritors</b> Chandler </span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;"><b>The Gateway to Never</b> Chandler</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">665257 <b>Pirates of Zan</b> Leinster </span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;"><b>Mutant Weapon</b> Leinster</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">799759 <b>Technos</b> </span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;"><b>A Scatter of Sardust</b> Tubb</span><br /><br />
+</p>
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Address______________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h3>The World's Best <br />
+Award-Winning Science Fiction<br />
+ Comes from Ace</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">029363 <b>Armageddon 2419 A.D.</b> Nowlan 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">061770 <b>The Big Show</b> Laumer 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">067017 <b>The Black Star Passes</b> Campbell 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">371005 <b>Interplanetary Hunter</b> Barnes 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">516559 <b>Falling Astronauts</b> Malzberg 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">531517 <b>The Mightiest Machine</b> Campbell&nbsp; 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">535708 <b>The Missionaries Compton</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">623801 <b>The Omega Poin</b>t Zebrowski 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">642405 <b>Other Days, Other Eyes</b> Shaw 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">734384 <b>Roller Coaster World</b> Bulmer 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">951467 <b>You're All Alone</b> Leiber 95c</span><br /><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Address______________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h3>EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS</h3>
+
+<h5>Just 75c each</h5>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">033218 <b>At the Earth's Core</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">046326 <b>Back to the Stone Age</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">056523 <b>Beyond the Farthest Star</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">218024 <b>Eternal Savages</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">469973 <b>Land of Terror</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">470120 <b>Land of Hidden Men</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">514026 <b>The Mad King</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">535880 <b>Monster Men</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">645101 <b>Outlaw of Torn</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">658526 <b>Pellucidar</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659425 <b>People That Time Forgot</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">751321 <b>Savage Pellucidar</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">797928 <b>Tanar of Pellucidar</b></span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">901918 <b>The Wizard of Venus</b></span><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Address______________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>11<br />
+
+NOVELS BY<br />
+
+ROBERT A. HEINLEIN</h3>
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">055004 <b>Between Planets</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">106005 <b>Citizen of the Galaxy</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">318006 <b>Have Space Suit&mdash;Will Travel</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">711408 <b>Red Planet</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">733303 <b>Rocket Ship Galileo</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">734400 <b>The Rolling Stones</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">777300 <b>Space Cadet</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">780007 <b>The Star Beast</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">811257 <b>Time for the Stars</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">826602 <b>Tunnel in the Sky</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">915025 <b>The Worlds of Robert A. Heinlein</b> 95c</span><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Address______________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>A. E. Van Vogt</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">048603 <b>The Battle of Forever</b> 95c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">104109 <b>Children of Tomorrow</b> 95c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">137984 <b>Darkness on Diamondia</b> 95c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">228114 <b>The Far Out Worlds of A.E. Van Vogt</b> 75c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">697003 <b>Quest For the Future</b> 95c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">765008 <b>The Silkie</b> 60c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">871814 <b>The War Against the Rulls</b> $1.25</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">878553 <b>The Weapon Shops of Isher</b> 60c</span><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<h3>JOHN BRUNNER</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">033001 <b>The Atlantic Abomination</b> 60c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">166686 <b>Dramaturges of Yan</b> 75c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">381210 <b>Jagged Orbit</b> $1.25</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">524009 <b>Meeting at Infinity</b> 60c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">812701 <b>Times Without Number</b> 60</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">822106 <b>Traveler in Black</b> 75c</span><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Address______________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h3>Frank<br />
+Herbert</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">172619 <b>Dune</b> $1.25</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">302612 <b>Green Brain</b> 60c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">909267 <b>The Worlds of Frank Herbert</b> 95c</span><br /></p>
+
+
+<h3>Ursula <br />Leguin</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">107011 <b>City of Illusion</b> 60c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">478008 <b>Left Hand of Darkness</b> 95c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">732917 <b>Rocannon's World</b> 75c</span><br /></p>
+
+
+<h3>Samuel R. <br />Delany</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">045914 <b>Babel 17</b> 60c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">047225 <b>Ballad of Beta 2</b> 60c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">196816 <b>Einstein Intersection</b> 75c</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">226415 <b>Fall of the Towers</b> $1.25</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">390211 <b>Jewels of Aptor</b> 75c</span><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks an sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Address______________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h3>Great Science Fiction<br />
+Collections</h3>
+
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">054551 <b>The Best from Fantasy and SF 16th Series</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">054569 <b>The Best from Fantasy and SF 17th Series</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">054577 <b>The Best from Fantasy and SF 18th Series</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">206706 <b>England Swings SF</b> $1.25</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">363317 <b>The Second "If" Reader</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">572701 <b>New Worlds of Fantasy</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">572719 <b>New Worlds of Fantasy 2</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">572727 <b>New Worlds of Fantasy 3</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">629402 <b>On Our Way to the Future</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">806992 <b>This Side of Infinity</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">846006 <b>Universe 1</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">846014 <b>Universe 2</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">913533 <b>World's Best 1st Series</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">913541 <b>World's Best 2nd Series</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">913558 <b>World's Best 3rd Series</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">913566 <b>World's Best 4th Series</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">913525 <b>World's Best Science Fiction 1969</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">913574 <b>World's Best Science Fiction 1970</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">913582 <b>World's Best Science Fiction 1971</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">913590 <b>Best Science Fiction for 1972</b> 95c</span></p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Address______________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h4>Don't miss these exciting adventures of</h4>
+
+<h3>PERRY RHODAN</h3>
+
+<h5>Just 75c Each</h5>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659813<b> Perry Rhodan #12</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Rebels of Tuglan</b> Darlton</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659821 <b>Perry Rhodan #13</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>The Immortal Unknown</b> Darlton</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659839<b> Perry Rhodan #14</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Venus in Danger </b>Mahr</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659847<b> Perry Rhodan #15</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Escape To Venus</b> Mahr</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659862<b> Perry Rhodan #16</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Secret Barrier X</b> Shols</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659870 <b>Perry Rhodan #17</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>The Venus Trap</b> Mahr</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659888<b> Perry Rhodan #18</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Menace of the Mutant Master</b> Mahr</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659904<b> Perry Rhodan #19</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Mutants vs. Mutants</b> Darlton</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Address______________________________________________</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h4>Don't miss these exciting adventures of</h4>
+
+<h3>PERRY RHODAN</h3>
+
+<h5>Just 75c Each</h5>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659938<b>Perry Rhodan #1</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Enterprise Stardust</b> Scheer &amp; Ernsting</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659946 <b>Perry Rhodan #2</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>The Radiant Dome </b>Scheer &amp; Ernsting</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659953<b> Perry Rhodan #3</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Galactic Alarm </b>Mahr &amp; Shols</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659961 <b>Perry Rhodan #4</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Invasion from Space</b> Ernsting &amp; Mahr</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659979 <b>Perry Rhodan #5</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>The Vega Sector</b> Scheer &amp; Mahr</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659987 <b>Perry Rhodan #6</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Secret of the Time Vault</b> Darlton</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659995 <b>Perry Rhodan #7</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Fortress of the Six Moons</b> Scheer</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">660001 <b>Perry Rhodan #8</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>The Galactic Riddle</b> Darlton</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659789 <b>Perry Rhodan #9</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Quest through Space and Time</b> Darlton</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">660027<b> Perry Rhodan #10</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>The Ghosts of Gol</b> Mahr</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">659805 <b>Perry Rhodan #11</b></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>Planet of the Dying Sun</b> Mahr</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
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+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Name ________________________________________________</span><br />
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+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<h3>ANDRE NORTON</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">696823 <b>Quest Crosstime</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">749812 <b>Sargasso of Space</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">756957 <b>Sea Siege</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">758318 <b>Secret of the Lost Race</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">759910 <b>Shadow Hawk</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">768010 <b>The Sioux Spaceman</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">775510 <b>Sorceress of Witch World</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">780114 <b>Star Born</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">780718 <b>Star Gate</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">781914 <b>Star Hunter &amp; Voodoo Planet</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">784314 <b>The Stars Are Ours</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">787416 <b>Storm over Warlock</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">808014 <b>Three Against the Witch World</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">812511 <b>The Time Traders</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">840009 <b>Unchartered Stars</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">873190 <b>Warlock of the Witch World</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">878710 <b>Web of the Witch World</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">897017 <b>Witch World</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">925511 <b>The X Factor</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">942516 <b>Year of the Unicorn</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">959619 <b>The Zero Stone</b> 75c</span><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
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+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h3>ANDRE NORTON</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">051615 <b>Beast Master</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">092668 <b>Catseye</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">123117 <b>The Crossroads of Time</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">137950 <b>Dark Piper</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">139923 <b>Daybreak, 2250 A.D.</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">142323 <b>Defiant Agents</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">166694 <b>Dread Companion</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">223651 <b>Exiles of the Stars</b> 95c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">272260 <b>Galactic Derelict</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">337014 <b>High Sorcery</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">354217 <b>Huon of the Horn</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">358408 <b>Ice Crown</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">415513 <b>Judgment on Janus</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">436725 <b>Key Out of Time</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">471615 <b>The Last Planet</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">492363 <b>Lord of Thunder</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">541011 <b>Moon of Three Rings</b> 75c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">577510 <b>Night of Masks</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">634105 <b>Operation Time Search</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">638213 <b>Ordeal In Otherwhere</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">668319 <b>Plague Ship</b> 60c</span><br /><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">675553 <b>Postmarked the Stars</b> 75c<br /><br /></span></p>
+
+<p><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></p>
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">New York, N.Y. 10036</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please send me titles checked above.</span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I enclose $___________ Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.</span><br />
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+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">City _________________ State ______ Zip _______</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 11-72-14C</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sky Is Falling, by Lester del Rey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sky Is Falling
+
+Author: Lester del Rey
+
+Release Date: July 6, 2006 [EBook #18768]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKY IS FALLING ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Geetu Melwani and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+      THE SKY IS FALLING
+
+            By
+       LESTER DEL REY
+
+
+[Illustration: THE SKY IS FALLING
+WHEN MEN RULED THE STARS--AND THE STARS RULED MEN!]
+
+
+
+Transcriber note: Extensive research did not uncover any
+evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+     Dave stared around the office. He went to the window and stared
+     upwards at the crazy patchwork of the sky. For all he knew, in
+     such a sky there might be cracks. In fact, as he looked, he
+     could make out a rift, and beyond that a ... hole ... a small
+     patch where there was no color, and yet the sky there was not
+     black. There were no stars there, though points of light were
+     clustered around the edges, apparently retreating.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+     THE SKY
+     IS FALLING
+
+     By
+     LESTER DEL REY
+
+     ace books
+
+     A Division of Charter Communications Inc.
+     1120 Avenue of the Americas
+     New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Copyright (C) 1954, 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.
+
+A shorter and earlier version of this story appeared as "No More Stars"
+under the pseudonym of Charles Satterfield in _Beyond Fantasy Fiction_
+for July, 1954
+
+_First Ace printing: January, 1973_
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+THE SKY IS FALLING
+
+
+I
+
+
+"Dave Hanson! By the power of the true name be summoned cells and
+humors, ka and id, self and--"
+
+Dave Hanson! The name came swimming through utter blackness, sucking at
+him, pulling him together out of nothingness. Then, abruptly, he was
+aware of being alive, and surprised. He sucked in on the air around him,
+and the breath burned in his lungs. He was one of the dead--there should
+be no quickening of breath within him!
+
+He caught a grip on himself, fighting the fantasies of his mind, and
+took another breath of air. This time it burned less, and he could force
+an awareness of the smells around him. But there was none of the pungent
+odor of the hospital he had expected. Instead, his nostrils were
+scorched with a noxious odor of sulfur, burned hair and cloying incense.
+
+He gagged on it. His diaphragm tautened with the sharp pain of
+long-unused muscles, and he sneezed.
+
+"A good sign," a man's voice said. "The followers have accepted and are
+leaving. Only a true being can sneeze. But unless the salamander works,
+his chances are only slight."
+
+There was a mutter of agreement from others, before an older voice broke
+in. "It takes a deeper fire than most salamanders can stir, Ser Perth.
+We might aid it with high-frequency radiation, but I distrust the
+effects on the prepsyche. If we tried a tamed succubus--"
+
+"The things are untrustworthy," the first voice answered. "And with the
+sky falling, we dare not trust one."
+
+The words blurred off in a fog of semiconsciousness and half-thoughts.
+The sky was falling? Who killed Foxy Loxy? I, said the spider, who sat
+down insider, I went boomp in the night and the bull jumped over the
+moon....
+
+"Bull," he croaked. "The bull sleeper!"
+
+"Delirious," the first voice muttered.
+
+"I mean--bull pusher!" That was wrong, too, and he tried again, forcing
+his reluctant tongue around the syllables. "Bull _dosser_!"
+
+Damn it, couldn't he even pronounce simple Engaliss?
+
+The language wasn't English, however. Nor was it Canadian French, the
+only other speech he could make any sense of. Yet he understood it--had
+even spoken it, he realized. There was nothing wrong with his command of
+whatever language it was, but there seemed to be no word for bulldozer.
+He struggled to get his eyes open.
+
+The room seemed normal enough, in spite of the odd smells. He lay on a
+high bed, surrounded by prim white walls, and there was even a chart of
+some kind at the bottom of the bedframe. He focused his eyes slowly on
+what must be the doctors and nurses there, and their faces looked back
+with the proper professional worry. But the varicolored gowns they wore
+in place of proper clothing were covered with odd designs, stars,
+crescents and things that might have been symbols for astronomy or
+chemistry.
+
+He tried to reach for his glasses to adjust them. There were no glasses!
+That hit him harder than any other discovery. He must be delirious and
+imagining the room. Dave Hanson was so nearsighted that he couldn't
+have seen the men, much less the clothing, without corrective lenses.
+
+The middle-aged man with the small mustache bent over the chart near his
+feet. "Hmm," the man said in the voice of the first speaker. "Mars
+trines Neptune. And with Scorpio so altered ... hmm. Better add two cc.
+of cortisone to the transfusion."
+
+Hanson tried to sit up, but his arms refused to bear his weight. He
+opened his mouth. A slim hand came to his lips, and he looked up into
+soothing blue eyes. The nurse's face was framed in copper-red hair. She
+had the transparent skin and classic features that occur once in a
+million times but which still keep the legend of redheaded enchantresses
+alive. "Shh," she said.
+
+He began to struggle against her hand, but she shook her head gently.
+Her other hand began a series of complicated motions that had a
+ritualistic look about them.
+
+"Shh," she repeated. "Rest. Relax and sleep, Dave Hanson, and remember
+when you were alive."
+
+There was a sharp sound from the doctor, but it began to blur out before
+Hanson could understand it. He fought to remember what he'd heard the
+nurse say--something about when he was alive--as if he'd been dead a
+long time.... He couldn't hold the thought. At a final rapid motion of
+the girl's hand his eyes closed, the smell faded from his nose and all
+sounds vanished. Once there was a stinging sensation, as if he were
+receiving the transfusion. Then he was alone in his mind with his
+memories--mostly of the last day when he'd still been alive. He seemed
+to be reliving the events, rethinking the thoughts he'd had then.
+
+It began with the sight of his uncle's face leering at him. Uncle David
+Arnold Hanson looked like every man's dream of himself and every woman's
+dreams of manliness. But at the moment, to Dave, he looked more like a
+personal demon. His head was tilted back and nasty laughter was booming
+through the air of the little office.
+
+"So your girl writes that your little farewell activity didn't fare so
+well, eh?" he chortled. "And you come crawling here to tell me you want
+to do the honorable thing, is that it? All right, my beloved nephew,
+you'll do the honorable thing! You'll stick to your contract with me."
+
+"But--" Dave began.
+
+"But if you don't, you'd better read it again. You don't get one cent
+except on completion of your year with me. That's what it says, and
+that's what happens." He paused, letting the fact that he meant it sink
+in. He was enjoying the whole business, and in no hurry to end it. "And
+I happen to know, Dave, that you don't even have fare to Saskatchewan
+left. You quit and I'll see you never get another job. I promised my
+sister I'd make a man of you and, by jumping Jupiter, I intend to do
+just that. And in my book, that doesn't mean you run back with your tail
+between your legs just because some silly young girl pulls that old
+chestnut on you. Why, when I was your age, I already had...."
+
+Dave wasn't listening any longer. In futile anger, he'd swung out of the
+office and gone stumbling back toward the computer building. Then, in a
+further burst of anger, he swung off the trail. To hell with his work
+and blast his uncle! He'd go on into town, and he'd--he'd do whatever he
+pleased.
+
+The worst part of it was that Uncle David could make good on his threat
+of seeing that Dave got no more work anywhere. David Arnold Hanson was a
+power to reckon with. No other man on Earth could have persuaded anyone
+to let him try his scheme of building a great deflection wall across
+northern Canada to change the weather patterns. And no other man could
+have accomplished the impossible task, even after twelve countries
+pooled their resources to give him the job. But he was doing it, and it
+was already beginning to work. Dave had noticed that the last winter in
+Chicago had definitely shown that Uncle David's predictions were coming
+true.
+
+Like most of the world, Dave had regarded the big man who was his uncle
+with something close to worship. He'd jumped at the chance to work under
+Uncle David. And he'd been a fool. He'd been doing all right in Chicago.
+Repairing computers didn't pay a fortune, but it was a good living, and
+he was good at it. And there was Bertha--maybe not a movie doll, but a
+sort of pretty girl who was also a darned good cook. For a man of thirty
+who'd always been a scrawny, shy runt like the one in the "before"
+pictures, he'd been doing all right.
+
+Then came the letter from his uncle, offering him triple salary as a
+maintenance man on the computers used for the construction job. There
+was nothing said about romance and beauteous Indian maids, but Dave
+filled that in himself. He would need the money when he and Bertha got
+married, too, and all that healthy outdoor living was just what the
+doctor would have ordered.
+
+The Indian maids, of course, turned out to be a few fat old squaws who
+knew all about white men. The outdoor living developed into five months
+of rain, hail, sleet, blizzard, fog and constant freezing in tractors
+while breathing the healthy fumes of diesels. Uncle David turned out to
+be a construction genius, all right, but his interest in Dave seemed to
+lie in the fact that he was tired of being Simon Legree to strangers
+and wanted to take it out on one of his own family. And the easy job
+turned into hell when the regular computer-man couldn't take any more
+and quit, leaving Dave to do everything, including making the field
+tests to gain the needed data.
+
+Now Bertha was writing frantic letters, telling him how much he'd better
+come back and marry her immediately. And Uncle David thought it was a
+joke!
+
+Dave paid no attention to where his feet were leading him, only vaguely
+aware that he was heading down a gully below the current construction
+job. He heard the tractors and bulldozers moving along the narrow cliff
+above him, but he was used to the sound. He heard frantic yelling from
+above, too, but paid no attention to it; in any Hanson construction
+program, somebody was always yelling about something that had to be done
+day before yesterday. It wasn't until he finally became aware of his own
+name being shouted that he looked up. Then he froze in horror.
+
+The bulldozer was teetering at the edge of the cliff as he saw it, right
+above him. And the cliff was crumbling from under it, while the tread
+spun idiotically out of control. As Dave's eyes took in the whole
+situation, the cliff crumbled completely, and the dozer came lunging
+over the edge, plunging straight for him. His shout was drowned in the
+roar of the motor. He tried to force his legs to jump, but they were
+frozen in terror. The heavy mass came straight for him, its treads
+churning like great teeth reaching for him.
+
+Then it hit, squarely on top of him. Something ripped and splattered and
+blacked out in an unbearable welter of agony.
+
+Dave Hanson came awake trying to scream and thrusting at the bed with
+arms too weak to raise him. The dream of the past was already fading.
+The horror he had thought was death lay somewhere in the past.
+
+Now he was here--wherever here was.
+
+The obvious answer was that he was in a normal hospital, somehow still
+alive, being patched up. The things he seemed to remember from his other
+waking must be a mixture of fact and delirium. Besides, how was he to
+judge what was normal in extreme cases of surgery?
+
+He managed to struggle up to a sitting position in the bed, trying to
+make out more of his surroundings. But the room was dark now. As his
+eyes adjusted, he made out a small brazier there, with a cadaverous old
+man in a dark robe spotted with looped crosses. On his head was
+something like a miter, carrying a coiled brass snake in front of it.
+The old man's white goatee bobbed as he mouthed something silently and
+made passes over the flame, which shot up prismatically. Clouds of white
+fire belched up.
+
+Dave reached to adjust his glasses, and found again that he wasn't
+wearing them. But he'd never seen so clearly before.
+
+At that moment, a chanting voice broke into his puzzled thoughts. It
+sounded like Ser Perth. Dave turned his head weakly. The motion set sick
+waves of nausea running through him, but he could see the doctor
+kneeling on the floor in some sort of pantomime. The words of the chant
+were meaningless.
+
+A hand closed over Dave's eyes, and the voice of the nurse whispered in
+his ear. "Shh, Dave Hanson. It's the Sather Karf, so don't interrupt.
+There may be a conjunction."
+
+He fell back, panting, his heart fluttering. Whatever was going on, he
+was in no shape to interrupt anything. But he knew that this was no
+delirium. He didn't have that kind of imagination.
+
+The chant changed, after a long moment of silence. Dave's heart had
+picked up speed, but now it missed again, and he felt cold. He shivered.
+Hell or heaven weren't like this, either. It was like something out of
+some picture--something about Cagliostro, the ancient mystic. But he was
+sure the language he somehow spoke wasn't an ancient one. It had words
+for electron, penicillin and calculus, for he found them in his own
+mind.
+
+The chant picked up again, and now the brazier flamed a dull red,
+showing the Sather Karf's face changing from some kind of disappointment
+to a businesslike steadiness. The red glow grew white in the center, and
+a fat, worm-like shape of flame came into being. The old man picked it
+up in his hand, petted it and carried it toward Dave. It flowed toward
+his chest.
+
+He pulled himself back, but Ser Perth and the nurse leaped forward to
+hold him. The thing started to grow brighter. It shone now like a tiny
+bit of white-hot metal; but the older man touched it, and it snuggled
+down into Dave's chest, dimming its glow and somehow purring. Warmth
+seemed to flow from it into Dave. The two men watched for a moment, then
+picked up their apparatus and turned to go. The Sather Karf lifted the
+fire from the brazier in his bare hand, moved it into the air and said a
+soft word. It vanished, and the two men were also gone.
+
+"Magic!" Dave said. He'd seen such illusions created on the stage, but
+there was something different here. And there was no fakery about the
+warmth from the thing over his chest. Abruptly he remembered that he'd
+come across something like it, called a salamander, in fiction once;
+the thing was supposed to be a spirit of fire, and dangerously
+destructive.
+
+The girl nodded in the soft glow coming from Dave's chest. "Naturally,"
+she told him. "How else does one produce and control a salamander,
+except by magic? Without, magic, how can we thaw a frozen soul? Or
+didn't your world have any sciences, Dave Hanson?"
+
+Either the five months under his uncle had toughened him, or the sight
+of the bulldozer falling had knocked him beyond any strong reaction. The
+girl had practically told him he wasn't in his own world. He waited for
+some emotion, felt none, and shrugged. The action sent pain running
+through him, but he stood it somehow. The salamander ceased its purring,
+then resumed.
+
+"Where in hell am I?" he asked. "Or when?"
+
+She shook her head. "Hell? No, I don't think so. Some say it's Earth and
+some call it Terah, but nobody calls it Hell. It's--well, it's a
+long--time, I guess--from when you were. I don't know. In such matters,
+only the Satheri know. The Dual is closed even to the Seri. Anyhow, it's
+not your space-time, though some say it's your world."
+
+"You mean dimensional travel?" Dave asked. He'd seen something about
+that on a science-fiction television program. It made even time travel
+seem simple. At any event, however, this wasn't a hospital in any sane
+and normal section of Canada during his time, on Earth.
+
+"Something like that," she agreed doubtfully. "But go to sleep now.
+Shh." Her hands came up in complicated gestures. "Sleep and grow well."
+
+"None of that hypnotism again!" he protested.
+
+She went on making passes, but smiled on him kindly. "Don't be
+superstitious--hypnotism is silly. Now go to sleep. For me, Dave
+Hanson. I want you well and true when you awake."
+
+Against his will, his eyes closed, and his lips refused to obey his
+desire to protest. Fatigue dulled his thoughts. But for a moment, he
+went on pondering. Somebody from the future--this could never be the
+past--had somehow pulled him out just ahead of the accident, apparently;
+or else he'd been deep frozen somehow to wait for medical knowledge
+beyond that of his own time. He'd heard it might be possible to do that.
+
+It was a cockeyed future, if this were the future. Still, if scientists
+had to set up some, sort of a religious mumbo-jumbo....
+
+Sickness thickened in him, until he could feel his face wet with
+perspiration. But with it had come a paralysis that left him unable to
+move or groan. He screamed inside himself.
+
+"Poor mandrake-man," the girl said softly. "Go back to Lethe. But don't
+cross over. We need you sorely."
+
+Then he passed out again.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Whatever they had done to patch him up hadn't been very successful,
+apparently. He spent most of the time in a delirium; sometimes he was
+dead, and there was an ultimate coldness like the universe long after
+the entropy death. At other times, he was wandering into fantasies that
+were all horrible. And at all times, even in unconsciousness, he seemed
+to be fighting desperately to keep from falling apart painfully within
+himself.
+
+When he was awake, the girl was always beside him. He learned that her
+name was Nema. Usually there was also the stout figure of Ser Perth.
+Sometimes he saw Sather Karf or some other older man working with
+strange equipment, or with things that looked like familiar hypodermics
+and medical equipment. Once they had an iron lung around him and there
+was a thin wisp over his face.
+
+He started to brush it aside, but Nema's hand restrained him. "Don't
+disturb the sylph," she ordered.
+
+Another semirational period occurred during some excitement or danger
+that centered around him. He was still half delirious, but he could see
+men working frantically to build a net of something around his bed,
+while a wet, thick thing flopped and drooled beyond the door, apparently
+immune to the attacks of the hospital staff. There were shouting orders
+involving the undine. The salamander in Dave's chest crept deeper and
+seemed to bleat at each cry of the monstrous thing beyond the door.
+
+Sather Karf sat hunched over what seemed to be a bowl of water, paying
+no attention to the struggle. Something that he seemed to see there held
+his attention. Then he screamed suddenly.
+
+"The Sons of the Egg. It's their sending!"
+
+He reached for a brazier beside him, caught up the fire and plunged it
+deep into the bowl of water, screaming something. There was the sound of
+an explosion from far away as he drew his hands out, unwet by the water.
+Abruptly the undine began a slow retreat. In Dave's chest, the
+salamander began purring again, and he drifted back into his coma.
+
+He tried to ask Nema about it later when she was feeding him, but she
+brushed it aside.
+
+"An orderly let out the news that you are here," she said. "But don't
+worry. We've sent out a doppelganger to fool the Sons, and the orderly
+has been sentenced to slavery under the pyramid builder for twenty
+lifetimes. I hate my brother! How dare he fight us with the sky
+falling?"
+
+Later, the delirium seemed to pass completely, but Dave took no comfort
+from that. In its place came a feeling of gloom and apathy. He slept
+most of the time, as if not daring to use his little strength even to
+think.
+
+Ser Perth stayed near him most of the time now. The man was obviously
+worried, but tried not to show it. "We've managed to get some
+testosterone from a blond homunculus," he reported. "That should put you
+on your feet in no time. Don't worry, young man we'll keep you vivified
+somehow until the Sign changes." But he didn't sound convincing.
+
+"Everyone is chanting for you," Nema told him. "All over the world, the
+chants go up."
+
+It meant nothing to him, but it sounded friendly. A whole world hoping
+for him to get well! He cheered up a bit at that until he found out that
+the chants were compulsory, and had nothing to do with goodwill.
+
+The iron lung was back the next time he came to, and he was being tugged
+toward it. He noticed this time that there was no sylph, and his
+breathing seemed to be no worse than usual. But the sight of the two
+orderlies and the man in medical uniform beside the lung reassured him.
+Whatever their methods, he was convinced that they were doing their best
+for him here.
+
+He tried to help them get him into the lung, and one of the men nodded
+encouragingly. But Dave was too weak to give much assistance. He glanced
+about for Nema, but she was out on one of her infrequent other duties.
+He sighed, wishing desperately that she were with him. She was a lot
+more proficient than the orderlies.
+
+The man in medical robe turned toward him sharply. "Stop that!" he
+ordered.
+
+Before Dave could ask what he was to stop, Nema came rushing into the
+room. Her face paled as she saw the three men, and she gasped, throwing
+up her hand in a protective gesture.
+
+The two orderlies jumped for her, one grabbing her and the other closing
+his hands over her mouth. She struggled violently, but the men were too
+strong for her.
+
+The man in doctor's robes shoved the iron lung aside violently and
+reached into his clothing. From it, he drew a strange, double-bladed
+knife. He swung toward Dave, raising the knife into striking position
+and aiming it at Dave's heart.
+
+"The Egg breaks," he intoned hollowly. It was a cultured voice, and
+there was a refinement to his face that registered on Dave's mind even
+over the horror of the weapon. "The fools cannot hold the shell. But
+neither shall they delay its breaking. Dead you were, mandrake son, and
+dead you shall be again. But since the fault is only theirs, may no ill
+dreams follow you beyond Lethe!"
+
+The knife started down, just as Nema managed to break free. She shrieked
+out a phrase of keening command. The salamander suddenly broke from
+Dave's chest, glowing brighter as it rose toward the face of the
+attacker. It was like a bit from the center of a star. The man jumped
+back, beginning a frantic ritual. He was too late. The salamander hit
+him, sank into him and shone through him. Then he slumped, steamed ...
+and was nothing but dust falling toward the carpet. The salamander
+turned, heading toward the others. But it was to Nema it went, rather
+than the two men. She was trying something desperately, but fear was
+thick on her face, and her hands were unsure.
+
+Abruptly, Sather Karf was in the doorway. His hand lifted, his fingers
+dancing. Words hissed from his lips in a stream of sibilants too quick
+for Dave to catch. The salamander paused and began to shrink doubtfully.
+Sather Karf turned, and again his hands writhed in the air. One hand
+darted back and forward, as if he were throwing something. Again he made
+the gesture. With each throw, one of the false orderlies dropped to the
+floor, clutching at a neck where the skin showed marks of constriction
+as if a steel cord were tightening. They died slowly, their eyes bulging
+and faces turning blue. Now the salamander moved toward them, directed
+apparently by slight motions from Sather Karf. In a few moments, there
+was no sign of them.
+
+The old man sighed, his face slumping into lines of fatigue and age. He
+caught his breath. He held out a hand to the salamander, petted it to a
+gentle glow and put it back over Dave's chest.
+
+"Good work, Nema," he said wearily. "You're too weak to control the
+salamander, but this was done well in the emergency. I saw them in the
+pool, but I was almost too late. The damned fanatics. Superstition in
+this day and age!"
+
+He swung to face Dave, whose vocal cords were still taut with the shock
+of the sight of the knife. "Don't worry, Dave Hanson. From now on, every
+Ser and Sather will protect you with the lower and the upper magic. The
+House changes tomorrow, if the sky permits, and we shall shield you
+until then. We didn't bring you back from the dead, piecing your
+scattered atoms together with your scattered revenant particle by
+particle, to have you killed again. Somehow, we'll incarnate you fully!
+You have my word for that."
+
+"Dead?" Dave had grown numbed to his past during the long illness, but
+that brought it back afresh. "Then I was killed? I wasn't just frozen
+and brought here by some time machine?"
+
+Sather Karf stared at him blankly. "Time machine? Impossible. Of course
+not. After the tractor killed you, and you were buried, what good would
+such fantasies be, even if they existed? No, we simply reincarnated you
+by pooling our magic. Though it was a hazardous and parlous thing, with
+the sky falling...."
+
+He sighed and went out, while Dave went back to his delirium.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+There was no delirium when he awoke in the morning. Instead, there was
+only a feeling of buoyant health. In fact, Dave Hanson had never felt
+that good in his life--or his former life. He reconsidered his belief
+that there was no delirium, wondering if the feeling were not itself a
+form of hallucination. But it was too genuine. He knew without question
+that he was well.
+
+It shouldn't have been true. During the night, he'd partially awakened
+in agony to find Nema chanting and gesturing desperately beside him, and
+he'd been sure he was on the verge of his second death. He could
+remember one moment, just before midnight, when she had stopped and
+seemed to give up hope. Then she'd braced herself and begun some ritual
+as if she were afraid to try it. Beyond that, he had no memory of pain.
+
+Nema came into the room now, touching his shoulder gently. She smiled
+and nodded at him. "Good morning, Sagittarian. Get out of bed."
+
+Expecting the worst, he swung his feet over the side and sat up. After
+so much time in bed, even a well man should be rendered weak and shaky.
+But there was no dizziness, no sign of weakness. He had made a most
+remarkable recovery, and Nema didn't even seem surprised. He tentatively
+touched foot to floor and half stood, propping himself against the high
+bed.
+
+"Come on," Nema said impatiently. "You're all right now. We entered your
+sign during the night." She turned her back on him and took something
+from a chest beside the bed. "Ser Perth will be here in a moment. He'll
+want to find you on your feet and dressed."
+
+Hanson was beginning to feel annoyance at the suddenly cocksure and
+unsympathetic girl, but he stood fully erect and flexed his muscles.
+There wasn't even a trace of bedsoreness, though he had been flat on his
+back long enough to grow callouses. And as he examined himself, he could
+find no scars or signs of injuries from the impact of the bulldozer--if
+there had ever really been a bulldozer.
+
+He grimaced at his own doubts. "Where am I, anyhow, Nema?"
+
+The girl dumped an armload of clothing on his bed and looked at him with
+controlled exasperation. "Dave Hanson," she told him, "don't you know
+any other words? That's the millionth time you've asked me that, at
+least. And for the hundredth time, I'll tell you that you're here. Look
+around you; see for yourself. I'm tired of playing nursemaid to you."
+She picked up a shirt of heavy-duty khaki from the pile on the bed and
+handed it to him. "Get into this," she ordered. "Dress first, talk
+later."
+
+She stalked out of the room.
+
+Dave did as she had ordered, busy with his own thoughts as he discovered
+what he was to wear. He was still wearing something with a vague
+resemblance to a short hospital gown, with green pentacles and some
+plant symbol woven into it, and with a clasp to hold it together shaped
+into a silver crux ansata. He took it off and hurled it into a corner
+disgustedly.
+
+He picked up the khaki shirt and put it on; then, with growing
+curiosity, the rest of the garments, until he came to the shoes. Khaki
+shirt, khaki breeches, a wide, webbed belt, a flat-brimmed hat. And the
+shoes--they weren't shoes, but knee-length leather boots, like a dressy
+version of lumberman's boots or a rougher version of riding boots. He
+hadn't seen even pictures of such things since the few silent movies run
+in some of the little art theaters. He struggled to get them on. They
+were an excellent fit, and comfortable enough, but he felt as if his
+legs were encased in hardened concrete when he was through. He looked
+down at himself in disgust. He was in all respects costumed as the
+epitome of the Hollywood dream of a heroic engineer-builder, ready to
+drive a canal through an isthmus or throw a dam across a raging
+river--the kind who'd build the dam while the river raged, instead of
+waiting until it was quiet, a few days later. He was about as far from
+the appearance of the actual blue-denim, leather-jacket engineers he had
+worked with as Maori in ancient battle array.
+
+He shook his head and went looking for the bathroom, where there might
+be a mirror. He found a door, but it led into a closet, filled with
+alembics and other equipment. There was a mirror hung on the back of it,
+however, with a big sign over it that said "Keep Out." He threw the door
+wide and stared at himself. At first, in spite of the costume, he was
+pleased. Then the truth began to hit him, and he felt abruptly sure he
+was still raging with fever and delirium.
+
+He was still staring when Nema came back into the room. She pursed her
+lips and shut the door quickly. But he'd already seen enough.
+
+"Never mind where I am," he said. "Tell me, _who_ am I?"
+
+She stared at him. "You're Dave Hanson."
+
+"The hell I am," he told her. "Oh, that's what I remember my father
+having me christened as. He hated long names. But take a good look at
+me. I've been shaving my face for years now, and I should know it.
+_That_ face in the mirror wasn't it! There's a resemblance. But a darned
+faint one. Change the chin, lengthen my nose, make the eyes brown
+instead of blue, and it might be me. But Dave Hanson's at least five
+inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter, too. Maybe the face is plastic
+surgery after the accident--but this isn't even my body."
+
+The girl's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Dave Hanson," she said
+gently. "We should have thought to warn you. You were a difficult
+conjuration--and even the easier ones often go wrong these days. We did
+our best, though it may be that the auspices were too strong on the
+soma. I'm sorry if you don't like the way you look. But there's nothing
+we can do about it now."
+
+Hanson opened the door again, in spite of Nema's quick frown, and looked
+at himself. "Well," he admitted, "I guess it could be worse. In fact, I
+guess it was worse--once I get used to looking like this, I think I'll
+get to like it. But seeing it was a heck of a thing to take for a sick
+man."
+
+Nema said sharply, "Are you sick?"
+
+"Well--I guess not."
+
+"Then why say you are? You shouldn't be; I told you we've entered the
+House of Sagittarius now. You can't be sick in your own sign. Don't you
+understand even that much elementary science?"
+
+Hanson didn't get a chance to answer. Ser Perth was suddenly in the
+doorway, dressed in a different type of robe. This was short and somehow
+conservative--it had a sincere, executive look about it. The man seemed
+changed in other ways, too. But Dave wasn't concerned about that. He was
+growing tired of the way people suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Maybe
+they all wore rubber-soled shoes or practiced sneaking about; it was a
+silly way for grown people to act.
+
+"Come with me, Dave Hanson," Ser Perth ordered, without wasting words.
+He spoke in a clipped manner now.
+
+Dave followed, grumbling in his mind. It was even sillier than their
+sneaking about for them to expect him to start running around before
+they bothered to check the condition of a man fresh out of his death
+bed. In any of the hospitals he had known, there would have been hours
+or days of X-rays and blood tests and temperature taking before he would
+be released. These people simply decided a man was well and ordered him
+out.
+
+To do them justice, however, he had to admit that they seemed to be
+right. He had never felt better. The twaddle about Sagittarius would
+have to be cleared up sometime, but meanwhile he was in pretty good
+shape. Sagittarius, as he remembered it, was supposed to be one of the
+signs of the Zodiac. Bertha had been something of a sucker for
+astrology and had found he was born under that sign before she agreed to
+their little good-by party. He snorted to himself. It had done her a
+heck of a lot of good, which was to be expected of such nonsense.
+
+They passed down a dim corridor and Ser Perth turned in at a door.
+Inside there was a single-chair barber shop, with a barber who might
+also have come from some movie-casting office. He had the proper wavy
+black hair and rat-tailed comb stuck into a slightly dirty off-white
+jacket. He also had the half-obsequious, half-insulting manner Dave had
+found most people expected from their barbers. While he shaved and
+trimmed Dave, he made insultingly solicitous comments about Dave's skin
+needing a massage, suggested a tonic for thinning hair and practically
+insisted on a singe. Ser Perth watched with a mixture of intentness and
+amusement. The barber trimmed the tufts from over Dave's ears and
+clipped the hair in his nose, while a tray was pushed up and a
+slatternly blonde began giving him a manicure.
+
+He began noticing that she carefully dumped his fingernail parings into
+a small jar. A few moments later, he found the barber also using a jar
+to collect the hair and shaving stubble. Ser Perth was also interested
+in that, it seemed, since his eyes followed that part of the operation.
+Dave frowned, and then relaxed. After all, this was a hospital barber
+shop, and they probably had some rigid rules about sanitation, though he
+hadn't seen much other evidence of such care.
+
+The barber finally removed the cloth with a snap and bowed. "Come again,
+sir," he said.
+
+Ser Perth stood up and motioned for Dave to follow. He turned to look in
+a mirror, and caught sight of the barber handing the bottles and jars of
+waste hair and nail clippings to a girl. He saw only her back, but it
+looked like Nema.
+
+Something stirred in his mind then. He'd read something somewhere about
+hair clippings and nail parings being used for some strange purpose. And
+there'd been something about spittle. But they hadn't collected that. Or
+had they? He'd been unconscious long enough for them to have gathered
+any amount they wanted. It all had something to do with some kind of
+mumbo-jumbo, and....
+
+Ser Perth had led him through the same door by which they'd entered--but
+_not_ into the same hallway. Dave's mind dropped the other thoughts as
+he tried to cope with the realization that this was another corridor. It
+was brightly lit, and there was a scarlet carpet on the floor. Also, it
+was a short hall, requiring only a few steps before they came to a
+bigger door, elaborately enscrolled. Ser Perth bent before it, and the
+door opened silently while he and Dave entered.
+
+The room was large and sparsely furnished. Sitting cross-legged on a
+cushion near the door was Nema, juggling something in her hands. It
+looked like a cluster of colored threads, partly woven into a rather
+garish pattern. On a raised bench between two windows sat the old figure
+of Sather Karf, resting his chin on hands that held a staff and staring
+at Dave intently.
+
+Dave stopped as the door closed behind him. Sather Karf nodded, as if
+satisfied, and Nema tied a complex knot in the threads, then paused
+silently.
+
+Sather Karf looked far less well than when Dave had last seen him. He
+seemed older and more shriveled, and there was a querulous, pinched
+expression in place of the firmness and almost nobility Dave had come to
+expect. His old eyes bored into the younger man, and he nodded. His
+voice had a faint quaver now. "All right. You're not much to look at,
+but you're the best we could find in the Ways we can reach. Come here,
+Dave Hanson."
+
+The command was still there, however petty the man seemed now. Dave
+started to phrase some protest, when he found his legs taking him
+forward to stop in front of Sather Karf, like some clockwork man whose
+lever has been pushed. He stood in front of the raised bench, noticing
+that the spot had been chosen to highlight him in the sunset light from
+the windows. He listened while the old man talked.
+
+Sather Karf began without preamble, stating things in a dry voice as if
+reading off a list of obvious facts.
+
+"You were dead, Dave Hanson. Dead, buried, and scattered by time and
+chance until even the place where you lay was forgotten. In your own
+world, you were nothing. Now you are alive, through the effort of men
+here whose work you could not even dream of. We have created you, Dave
+Hanson. Remember that, and forget the ties to any other world, since
+that world no longer holds you."
+
+Dave nodded slowly. It was hard to swallow, but there were too many
+things here that couldn't be in any world he had known. And his memory
+of dying was the clearest memory he had. "All right," he admitted. "You
+saved my life--or something. And I'll try to remember it. But if this
+isn't my world, what world is it?"
+
+"The only world, perhaps. It doesn't matter." The old man sighed, and
+for a moment the eyes were shrouded in speculation, as if he were
+following some strange by-ways of his own thoughts. Then he shrugged.
+"It's a world and culture linked to the one you knew only by theories
+that disagree with each other. And by vision--the vision of those who
+are adept enough to see through the Ways to the branches of Duality.
+Before me, there was nothing. But I've learned to open a path--a
+difficult path for one in this world--and to draw from it, as you have
+been drawn. Don't try to understand what is a mystery even to the
+Satheri, Dave Hanson."
+
+"A reasonably intelligent man should be able--" Dave began.
+
+Ser Perth cut his words off with a sharp laugh. "Maybe a man. But who
+said you were a man, Dave Hanson? Can't you even understand that? You're
+only half human. The other half is mandrake--a plant that is related to
+humanity through shapes and signs by magic. We make simulacra out of
+mandrakes--like the manicurist in the barber shop. And sometimes we use
+a mandrake root to capture the essence of a real man, in which case he's
+a mandrake-man, like you. Human? No. But a very good imitation, I must
+admit."
+
+Dave turned from Ser Perth toward Nema, but her head was bent over the
+cords she was weaving, and she avoided his eyes. He remembered now that
+she'd called him a mandrake-man before, in a tone of pity. He looked
+down at his body, sick in his mind. Vague bits of fairy tales came back
+to him, suggesting horrible things about mandrake creatures--zombie-like
+things, only outwardly human.
+
+Sather Karf seemed amused as he looked at Ser Perth. Then the old man
+dropped his eyes toward Dave, and there was a brief look of pity in
+them. "No matter, Dave Hanson," he said. "You were human, and by the
+power of your true name, you are still the same Dave Hanson. We have
+given you life as precious as your other life. Pay us for that with your
+service, and that new life will be truly precious. We need your
+services."
+
+"What do you want?" Dave asked. He couldn't fully believe what he'd
+heard, but there had been too many strange things to let him disbelieve,
+either. If they had made him a mandrake-man, then by what little he
+could remember and guess, they could make him obey them.
+
+"Look out the window--at the sky," Sather Karf ordered.
+
+Dave looked. The sunset colors were still vivid. He stepped forward and
+peered through the crystalline glass. Before him was a city, bathed in
+orange and red, towering like the skyline of a dozen cities he had
+seen--and yet; not like any. The buildings were huge and many-windowed.
+But some were straight and tall, some were squat and fairy-colored and
+others blossomed from thin stalks into impossibly bulbous, minareted
+domes, like long-stemmed tulips reproduced in stone. Haroun-al-Rashid
+might have accepted the city, but Mayor Wagner could never have believed
+in it.
+
+"Look at the sky," the old man suggested again, and there was no mockery
+in his voice now.
+
+Dave looked up obediently.
+
+The sunset colors were not sunset. The sun was bright and blinding
+overhead, surrounded by reddish clouds, glaring down on the fairy city.
+The sky was--blotchy. It was daylight, but through the clouds bright
+stars were shining. A corner of the horizon was winter blue; a whole
+sweep of it was dead, featureless black. It was a nightmare sky, an
+impossible sky. Dave's eyes bulged as he looked at it.
+
+He turned back to Sather Karf. "What--what's the matter with it?"
+
+"What indeed?" There was bitterness and fear in the old man's voice. In
+the corner of the room, Nema looked up for a moment, and there was fear
+and worry in her eyes before she looked back to her weaving of endless
+knots. Sather Karf sighed in weariness. "If I knew what was happening to
+the sky, would I be dredging the muck of Duality for the likes of you,
+Dave Hanson!"
+
+He stood up, wearily but with a certain ease and grace that belied his
+age, looking down at Dave. There was stern command in his words, but a
+hint of pleading in his expression.
+
+"The sky's falling, Dave Hanson. Your task is to put it together again.
+See that you do not fail us!"
+
+He waved dismissal and Ser Perth led Dave and Nema out.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+The corridor down which they moved this time was one that might have
+been familiar even in Dave's Chicago. There was the sound of typewriters
+from behind the doors, and the floor was covered with composition tile,
+instead of the too-lush carpets. He began to relax a little until he
+came to two attendants busily waxing the floor. One held the other by
+the ankles and pushed the creature's hairy face back and forth, while
+its hands spread the wax ahead of it. The results were excellent, but
+Dave found it hard to appreciate.
+
+Ser Perth shrugged slightly. "They're only mandrakes," he explained. He
+threw open the door of one of the offices and led them through an outer
+room toward an inner chamber, equipped with comfortable chairs and a
+desk. "Sit down, Dave Hanson. I'll fill you in on anything you need to
+know before you're assigned. Now--the Sather Karf told you what you were
+to do, of course, but--"
+
+"Wait a minute," Dave suggested. "I don't remember being told any such
+thing."
+
+Ser Perth looked at Nema, who nodded. "He distinctly said you were to
+repair the sky. I've got it down in my notes if you want to see them."
+She extended the woven cords.
+
+"Never mind," Ser Perth said. He twiddled with his mustache. "I'll recap
+a little. Dave Hanson, as you have seen, the sky is falling and must be
+repaired. You are our best hope. We know that from a prophecy, and it
+is confirmed by the fact that the fanatics of the Egg have tried several
+times to kill you. They failed, though one effort was close enough, but
+their attempts would not have been made at all if they had not been
+convinced through their arts that you can succeed with the sky."
+
+Dave shook his head. "It's nice to know you trust me!"
+
+"Knowing that you _can_ succeed," the other went on smoothly, "we know
+that you will. It is my unpleasant duty to point out to you the things
+that will happen if you fail. I say nothing of the fact that you owe us
+your life; that may be a small enough gift, and one quickly withdrawn. I
+say only that you have no escape from us. We have your name, and the
+true symbol is the thing, as you should know. We also have cuttings from
+your hair and your beard; we have the parings of your nails, five cubic
+centimeters of your spinal fluid and a scraping from your liver. We have
+your body through those, nor can you take it out of our reach. Your name
+gives us your soul." He looked at Hanson piercingly. "Shall I tell you
+what it would be like for your soul to live in the muck of a swamp in a
+mandrake root?"
+
+Dave shook his head. "I guess not. I--look, Ser Perth. I don't know what
+you're talking about. How can I go along with you when I'm in the dark?
+Start at the beginning, will you? I was killed; all right, if you say I
+was, I was. You brought me to life again with a mandrake root and
+spells; you can do anything you want with me. I admit it; right now,
+I'll admit anything you want me to, because you know what's going on and
+I don't. But what's all this business of the sky falling? If it is and
+can be falling, what's the difference? If there is a difference, why
+should I be able to do anything about it?"
+
+"Ignorance!" Ser Perth murmured to himself. He sighed heavily. "Always
+ignorance. Well, then, listen." He sat down on the corner of the desk
+and took out a cigarette. At least it looked like a cigarette. He
+snapped his fingers and lighted it from a little flame that sprang up,
+blowing clouds of bright green smoke from his mouth. The smoke hung
+lazily, drifting into vague patterns and then began to coalesce into a
+green houri without costume. He swatted at it negligently.
+
+"Dratted sylphs. There's no controlling the elementals properly any
+more." He didn't seem too displeased, however, as he watched the thing
+dance off. Then he sobered.
+
+"In your world, Dave Hanson, you were versed in the engineering
+arts--you more than most. That you should be so ignorant, though you
+were considered brilliant is a sad commentary on your world. But no
+matter. Perhaps you can at least learn quickly still. Even you must have
+had some idea of the composition of the sky?"
+
+Dave frowned as he tried to answer. "Well, I suppose the atmosphere is
+oxygen and nitrogen, mostly; then there's the ionosphere and the ozone
+layer. As I remember, the color of the sky is due to the scattering of
+light--light rays being diffracted in the air."
+
+"Beyond the air," Ser Perth said impatiently. "The sky itself!"
+
+"Oh--space. We were just getting out there with manned ships. Mostly
+vacuum, of course. Of course, we're still in the solar atmosphere, even
+there, with the Van Allen belts and such things. Then there are the
+stars, like our sun, but much more distant. The planets and the moon--"
+
+"Ignorance was bad enough," Ser Perth interrupted in amazement. He
+stared at Dave, shaking his head in disgust. "You obviously come from a
+culture of even more superstition than ignorance. Dave Hanson, the sky
+is no such thing. Put aside the myths you heard as a child. The sky is a
+solid sphere that surrounds Earth. The stars are no more like the sun
+than the glow of my cigarette is like a forest fire. They are lights on
+the inside of the sphere, moving in patterns of the Star Art, nearer to
+us than the hot lands to the south."
+
+"Fort," Dave said. "Charles Fort said that in a book."
+
+Ser Perth shrugged. "Then why make me say it again? This Fort was right.
+At least one intelligent man lived in your world, I'm pleased to know.
+The sky is a dome holding the sun, the stars and the wandering planets.
+The problem is that the dome is cracking like a great, smashed
+eggshell."
+
+"What's beyond the dome?"
+
+Ser Perth shuddered slightly. "My greatest wish is that I die before I
+learn. In your world, had you discovered that there were such things as
+elements? That is, basic substances which in combination produce--"
+
+"Of course," Dave interrupted.
+
+"Good. Then of the four elements--" Dave gulped, but kept silent, "--of
+the four elements the universe is built. Some things are composed of a
+single element; some of two, some of three. The proportions vary and the
+humors and spirits change but all things are composed of the elements.
+And only the sky is composed of all four elements--of earth, of water,
+of fire and of air--in equal proportions. One part each, lending each
+its own essential quality to the mixture, so that the sky is solid as
+earth, radiant as fire, formless as water, insubstantial as air. And the
+sky is cracking and falling, as you have seen for yourself. The effects
+are already being felt. Gamma radiation is flooding through the gaps;
+the quick-breeding viruses are mutating through half the world, faster
+than the Medical Art can control them, so that millions of us are
+sneezing and choking--and dying, too, for lack of antibiotics and proper
+care. Air travel is a perilous thing; just today, a stratosphere roc
+crashed head-on into a fragment of the sky and was killed with all its
+passengers. Worst of all, the Science of Magic suffers. Because the
+stars are fixed on the dome of the sky. With the crumbling of that dome,
+the course of the stars has been corrupted. It's pitiful magic that can
+be worked without regard to the conjunctions of the planets; but it is
+all the magic that is left to us. When Mars trines Neptune, the Medical
+Art is weak; even while we were conjuring you, the trine occurred. It
+almost cost your life. And it should not have occurred for another seven
+days."
+
+There was silence, while Ser Perth let Dave consider it. But it was too
+much to accept at once, and Dave's mind was a treadmill. He'd agreed to
+admit anything, but some of this was such complete nonsense that his
+mind rejected it automatically. Yet he was sure Ser Perth was serious;
+there was no humor on the face of the prissy thin-mustached man before
+him. Nor had the Sather Karf considered it a joke, he was sure. He had a
+sudden vision of the latter strangling two men from a distance of thirty
+feet without touching them. That couldn't happen in a sane world,
+either.
+
+Dave asked weakly, "Could I have a drink?"
+
+"With a sylph around?" Ser Perth grimaced. "You wouldn't have a chance.
+Now, is all clear to you, Dave Hanson?"
+
+"Sure. Except for one thing. What am I supposed to do?"
+
+"Repair our sky. It should not be too difficult for a man of your
+reputation. You built a wall across a continent high and strong enough
+to change the air currents and affect all your weather--and that in the
+coldest, meanest country in your world. You come down to us as one of
+the greatest engineers of history, Dave Hanson, so great that your fame
+has penetrated even to our world, through the viewing pools of our
+wisest historians. There is a shrine and monument in your world. 'Dave
+Hanson, to whom nothing was impossible.' Well, we have a nearly
+impossible task: a task of engineering and building. If our Science of
+Magic could be relied upon--but it cannot; it never can be, until the
+sky is fixed. We have the word of history: no task is impossible to Dave
+Hanson."
+
+Dave looked at the smug face and a slow grin crept over his own, in
+spite of himself. "Ser Perth, I'm afraid you've made a slight mistake."
+
+"We don't make mistakes in such matters. You're Dave Hanson," Ser Perth
+said flatly. "Of all the powers of the Science, the greatest lies in the
+true name. We evoked you by the name of Dave Hanson. You _are_ Dave
+Hanson, therefore."
+
+"Don't try to deceive us," Nema suggested. Her voice was troubled. "Pray
+rather that we never have reason to doubt you. Otherwise the wisest of
+the Satheri would spend their remaining time in planning something
+unthinkable for you."
+
+Ser Perth nodded vigorous assent. Then he motioned to the office. "Nema
+will show you to your quarters later. Use this until you leave. I have
+to report back."
+
+Dave stared after him until he was gone, and then around at the office.
+He went to the window and stared upwards at the crazy patchwork of the
+sky. For all he knew, in such a sky there might be cracks. In fact, as
+he looked, he could make out a rift, and beyond that a ... hole ... a
+small patch where there was no color, and yet the sky there was not
+black. There were no stars there, though points of light were clustered
+around the edges, apparently retreating.
+
+All he had to do was to repair the sky. Shades of Chicken Little!
+
+Maybe to David Arnold Hanson, the famed engineer, no task was
+impossible. But quite a few things were impossible to that engineer's
+obscure and unimportant nephew, the computer technician and generally
+undistinguished man who had been christened Dave. They'd gotten the
+right man for the name, all right. But the wrong man for the job.
+
+Dave Hanson could repair anything that contained electrical circuits or
+ran on tiny jeweled bearings, but he could handle almost nothing else.
+It wasn't stupidity or incapacity to learn, but simply that he had never
+been subjected to the discipline of construction engineering. Even on
+the project, while working with his uncle, he had seen little of what
+went on, and hadn't really understood that, except when it produced data
+that he could feed into his computer. He couldn't drive a nail in the
+wall to hang a picture or patch a hole in the plaster.
+
+But it seemed that he'd better put on a good show of trying if he wanted
+to continue enjoying good health.
+
+"I suppose you've got a sample of the sky that's fallen?" he asked Nema.
+"And what the heck are you doing here, anyhow? I thought you were a
+nurse."
+
+She frowned at him, but went to a corner where a small ball of some
+clear crystalline substance stood. She muttered into it, while a surly
+face stared out. Then she turned back to him, nodding. "They are sending
+some of the sky to you. As to my being a nurse, of course I am. All
+student magicians take up the Medical Art for a time. Surely one so
+skilled can also be a secretary, even to the great Dave Hanson? As to
+why I'm here--" She dropped her eyes, frowning, while a touch of added
+color reached her cheeks. "In the sleep spell I used, I invoked that you
+should be well and true. But I'm only a bachelor in magic, not even a
+master, and I slipped. I phrased it that I wanted you well and true.
+Hence, well and truly do I want you."
+
+"Huh?" He stared at her, watching the blush deepen. "You mean--?"
+
+"Take care! First you should know that I am proscribed as a duly
+registered virgin. And in this time of need, the magic of my blood must
+not be profaned." She twisted sidewise, and then turned toward the door,
+avoiding him. Before she reached it, the door opened to show a dull
+clod, entirely naked, holding up a heavy weight of nothing.
+
+"Your sample of sky," she said as the clod labored over to the desk and
+dropped nothing with a dull clank. The desk top dented slightly.
+
+Dave could clearly see that nothing was on the desk. But if nothing was
+a vacuum, this was an extremely hard and heavy one. It seemed to be
+about twelve inches on a side, in its rough shape, and must have weighed
+two hundred pounds. He tapped it, and it rang. Inside it, a tiny point
+of light danced frantically back and forth.
+
+"A star," she said sadly.
+
+"I'm going to need some place to experiment with this," he suggested. He
+expected to be sent to the deepest, dankest cave of all the world as a
+laboratory, and to find it equipped with pedigreed bats, dried unicorn
+horns and whole rows of alembics that he couldn't use.
+
+Nema smiled brightly. "Of course. We've already prepared a construction
+camp for you. You'll find most of the tools you used in your world
+waiting there and all the engineers we could get or make for you."
+
+He'd been considering stalling while he demanded exactly such things. He
+was reasonably sure by now that they had no transistors, signal
+generators, frequency meters or whatever else he could demand. He could
+make quite an issue out of the need to determine the characteristic
+impedance of their sky. That might even be interesting, at that; would
+it be anywhere near 300 ohms here? But it seemed that stalling wasn't
+going to work. They'd given him what they expected him to need, and he'd
+have to be careful to need only what they expected, or they might just
+decide he wasn't Dave Hanson.
+
+"I can't work on this stuff here," he said.
+
+"Then why didn't you say so?" she asked sharply. She let out a cry and a
+raven came flying in. She whispered something to it, frowned, and then
+ordered it off. "There's no surface transportation available, and all
+the local rocs are in use. Well, we'll have to make do with what we
+have."
+
+She darted for the outer office, rummaged in a cabinet, and came back
+with a medium-sized rug of worn but gaudy design. Bad imitation Sarouk,
+Dave guessed. She tossed it onto the largest cleared space, gobbled
+some outlandish noises, and dropped onto it, squatting near one end.
+Behind her, the dull clod picked up the sample of sky and fell to his
+face on the rug. At her vehement signal, Dave squatted down beside her,
+not daring to believe what he was beginning to guess.
+
+The carpet lifted uncertainly. It seemed to protest at the unbalanced
+weight of the sky piece. She made the sounds again, and it rose
+reluctantly, curling up at the front, like a crazy toboggan. It moved
+slowly, but with increasing speed, sailed out of the office through the
+window and began gaining altitude. They went soaring over the city at
+about thirty miles an hour, heading toward what seemed to be barren land
+beyond. "Sometimes they fail now," she told him. "But so far, only if
+the words are improperly pronounced."
+
+He gulped and looked gingerly over at the city below. As he did, she
+gasped. He heard a great tearing sound of thunder. In the sky, a small
+hole appeared. There was a scream of displaced air, and something went
+zipping downwards in front of them, setting up a wind that bounced the
+carpet about crazily. Dave glanced over the edge again to see one of the
+tall buildings crumple under the impact. The three top stories were
+ripped to shreds. Then the whole building began to change. It slowly
+blossomed into a huge cloud of pink gas that rifted away, to show people
+and objects dropping like stones to the ground below. Nema sighed and
+turned her eyes away.
+
+"But--it's ridiculous!" Dave protested. "We heard the rip and less than
+five seconds later, that piece fell. If your sky is even twenty miles
+above us, it would take longer than that to fall."
+
+"It's a thousand miles up," she told him. "And sky has no inertia until
+it is contaminated by contact with the ground. It took longer than
+usual for that piece to fall." She sighed. "It gets worse. Look at the
+signs. That break has disturbed the planets. We're moving retrograde,
+back to our previous position, out of Sagittarius! Now we'll go back to
+the character we had before--and just when I was getting used to the
+change."
+
+He jerked his eyes off the raw patch of emptiness in the sky, where a
+few stars seemed to be vanishing. "Your character? Isn't anything stable
+here?"
+
+"Of course not. Naturally, in each House we have a differing of
+character, as does the world itself. Why else should astrology be the
+greatest of the sciences?"
+
+It was a nice world, he decided. And yet the new factor explained some
+things. He'd been vaguely worried about the apparent change in Ser
+Perth, who'd turned from a serious and helpful doctor into a
+supercilious, high-handed fop. But--what about his recovery, if that was
+supposed to be determined by the signs of the zodiac?
+
+He had no time to ask. The carpet bucked, and the girl began speaking to
+it urgently. It wavered, then righted itself, to begin sliding
+downwards.
+
+"There is a ring of protection around your camp," Nema explained. "It is
+set to make entry impossible to one who does not have the words or who
+is unfriendly. The carpet could not go through that, anyway. The ring
+negates all other magic trying to pass it. And of course we have
+basilisks mounted on posts around the grounds. They're trained to hood
+their eyes, except when they sense anyone trying to enter who should
+not. You can't be turned to stone looking at one, you know--only by
+having one look at you."
+
+"You're cheering me up no end," he assured her.
+
+She smiled pleasantly and began setting the carpet down. Below, he
+could see a camp that looked much like the camps he had seen in the same
+movies from which all his clothes had been copied. There were well
+laid-out rows of sheds, beautiful lines of construction equipment and
+everything in order, as it could never be in a real camp. As he began
+walking with the girl toward a huge tent that should have belonged to a
+circus, he could see other discrepancies. The tractors were designed for
+work in mud flats and the haulers had the narrow wheels used on rocky
+ground. Nothing seemed quite as it should be. He spotted a big generator
+working busily--and then saw a gang of about fifty men, or mandrakes,
+turning a big capstan that kept it going. Here and there were neat racks
+of miscellaneous tools. Some were museum pieces. There was even a gandy
+cart, though no rails for it to run on.
+
+They were almost at the main tent when a crow flew down and yelled
+something in Nema's ear. She scowled, and nodded. "I'm needed back," she
+said. "Most of the men here--" She pointed to the gangs that moved about
+busily doing nothing, all in costumes similar to his, except for the
+boots and hat. "They're mandrakes, conjured into existence, but without
+souls. The engineers we have are snatched from Duality just after dying
+and revived here while their brains still retain their knowledge. They
+have no true souls either, of course, but they don't know it. Ah. The
+short man there--he's Garm. Sersa Garm, an apprentice to Ser Perth. He's
+to be your foreman, and he's real."
+
+She headed back to the outskirts, then turned to shout back. "Sather
+Karf says you may have ten days to fix the sky," she called. Her hand
+waved toward him in friendly good-bye. "Don't worry, Dave Hanson. I have
+faith in you."
+
+Then she was running toward her reluctant carpet.
+
+Dave stared up at the mottled dome above him and at the dull
+clod--certainly a mandrake--who was still carrying the sample. With all
+this preparation and a time limit, he couldn't even afford to stall.
+He'd never fully understood why some plastics melted and others turned
+hard when heated, but he had to find what was wrong with the dome above
+and how to fix it. And maybe the time limit could be stretched a little,
+once he came up with the answer. Maybe. He'd worry about that after he
+worried about the first steps.
+
+Sersa Garm proved to be a glum, fat young man, overly aware of his
+importance in training for serhood. He led Dave through the big tent,
+taking pride in the large drafting section--under the obvious belief
+that it was used for designing spells. Maybe it could have been useful
+for that if there had been a single man who knew anything about
+draftsmanship. There were four engineers, supposedly. One, who had died
+falling off a bridge while drunk, was curing himself of the shock by
+remaining dead drunk. One had been a chemical engineer specializing in
+making yeast and dried soya meal into breakfast cereals. Another knew
+all about dredging canals and the last one was an electronics
+engineer--a field in which Dave was far more competent.
+
+He dismissed them. Whatever had been done to them--or perhaps the
+absence of a true soul, whatever that was--left them rigidly bound to
+their past ideas and totally incapable of doing more than following
+orders by routine now. Even Sersa Garm was more useful.
+
+That young man could offer little information, however. The sky, he
+explained pompously, was a great mystery that only an adept might
+communicate to another. He meant that he didn't know about it, Dave
+gathered. Everything, it turned out, was either a mystery or a rumor.
+He also had a habit of sucking his thumb when pressed too hard for
+details.
+
+"But you must have heard some guesses about what started the cracks in
+the sky?" Dave suggested.
+
+"Oh, indeed, that is common knowledge," Sersa Garm admitted. He changed
+thumbs while he considered. "'Twas an experiment most noble, but through
+mischance going sadly awry. A great Sather made the sun remain in one
+place too long, and the heat became too great. It was like the Classic
+experiment--"
+
+"How hot is your sun?"
+
+There was a long pause. Then Sather Germ shrugged. "'Tis a great
+mystery. Suffice to say it has no true heat, but does send forth an
+activating principle against the phlogiston layer, which being excited
+grows vengeful against the air ... but you have not the training to
+understand."
+
+"Okay, so they didn't tell you, if they knew." Dave stared up at the
+sun, trying to guess. The light looked about like what he was used to,
+where the sky was still whole. North light still was like what a color
+photographer would consider 5500 deg. Kelvin, so the sun must be pretty hot.
+Hot enough to melt anything he knew about. "What's the melting point of
+this sky material?"
+
+He never did manage to make Sather Garm understand what a melting point
+was. But he found that one of the solutions tried had been the bleeding
+of eleven certified virgins for seven days. When the blood was mixed
+with dragonfeathers and frogsdown and melded with a genuine
+philosopher's stone, they had used it to ink in the right path of the
+planets of a diagram. It had failed. The sky had cracked and a piece had
+fallen into the vessel of blood, killing a Sather who was less than two
+thousand years old.
+
+"Two thousand?" Dave asked. "How old is Sather Karf?"
+
+"None remembers truly. He has always been the Sather Karf--at least ten
+thousand years or more. To attain the art of a Sather is the work of a
+score of centuries, usually."
+
+That Sather had been in sad shape, it seemed. No one had been able to
+revive him, though bringing the dead back to life when the body was
+reasonably intact was routine magic that even a sersa could perform. It
+was after that they'd begun conjuring back to Dave's world for all the
+other experts.
+
+"All whose true names they could find, that is," Garm amended. "The
+Egyptian pyramid builder, the man who discovered your greatest science,
+dianetics, the great Cagliostro--and what a time we had finding his true
+name! I was assigned to the helping of one who had discovered the
+secrets of gravity and some strange magic which he termed
+relativity--though indeed it had little to do with kinship, but was a
+private mystery. But when he was persuaded by divers means to help us,
+he gave up after one week, declaring it beyond his powers. They were
+even planning what might best be done to chastise him when he discovered
+in some manner a book of elementary conjuration and did then devise some
+strange new formula from the elements with which magic he disappeared."
+
+It was nice to know that Einstein had given up on the problem, Dave
+thought bitterly. As nice as the discovery that there was no fuel for
+the equipment here. He spent an hour rigging up a portable saw to use in
+attempting to cut off a smaller piece of the sky, and then saw the
+motor burn out when he switched it on. It turned out that all
+electricity here was d.c., conjured up by commanding the electrons in a
+wire to move in one direction, and completely useless with a.c. motors.
+It might have been useful for welding, but there was no electric torch.
+
+"'Tis obviously not a thing of reason," Garm told him severely. "If the
+current in such a form moves first in one direction and then in the
+other, then it cancels out and is useless. No, you must be wrong."
+
+As Dave remembered it, Tesla had been plagued by similar doubts from
+such men as Edison. He gave up and settled finally for one of the native
+welding torches, filled with a dozen angry salamanders. The flame or
+whatever it was had enough heat, but it was hard to control. By the time
+he learned to use it, night had fallen, and he was too tired to try
+anything more. He ate a solitary supper and went to sleep.
+
+During the next three days he learned a few things the hard way,
+however. In spite of Garm's assurance that nothing could melt the sky,
+he found that his sample would melt slowly under the heat of the torch.
+In the liquid state, it was jet black, though it cooled back to complete
+transparency. It was also without weight when in liquid form--a fact he
+discovered when it began rising through the air and spattering over
+everything, including his bare skin. The burns were nasty, but somehow
+seemed to heal with remarkable speed. Sersa Garm was impressed by the
+discoveries, and went off to suck his thumbs and brood over the new
+knowledge, much to Dave's relief.
+
+More work established the fact that welding bits of the sky together was
+not particularly difficult. The liquid sky was perfectly willing to bond
+onto anything, including other bits of itself.
+
+Now, if he could get a gang up the thousand miles to the sky with enough
+torches to melt the cracks, it might recongeal as a perfect sphere. The
+stuff was strong, but somewhat brittle. He still had no idea of how to
+get the stars and planets back in the right places.
+
+"The mathematician thought of such an idea," Sersa Garm said sourly.
+"But 'twould never work. Even with much heat, it could not be done. For
+see you, the upper air is filled with phlogiston, which no man can
+breathe. Also, the phlogiston has negative weight, as every school child
+must know. Your liquid sky would sink through it, since negative weight
+must in truth be lighter than no weight, while nothing else would rise
+through the layer. And phlogiston will quench the flame of a rocket, as
+your expert von Braun discovered."
+
+The man was a gold mine of information, all bad. The only remaining
+solution, apparently, was to raise a scaffolding over the whole planet
+to the sky, and send up mandrakes to weld back the broken pieces. They
+wouldn't need to breathe, anyhow. With material of infinite
+strength--and an infinite supply of it--and with infinite time and
+patience, it might have been worth considering.
+
+Nema came out the next day with more cheering information. Her
+multi-times great grandfather, Sather Karf, regretted it, but he must
+have good news to release at once; the populace was starving because the
+food multipliers couldn't produce reliable supplies. Otherwise, Dave
+would find venom being transported into his blood in increasing amounts
+until the pain drove him mad. And, just incidentally, the Sons of the
+Egg who'd attacked him in the hospital had tried to reach the camp twice
+already, once by interpenetrating into a shipment of mandrakes, which
+indicated to what measures they would resort. They meant to kill him
+somehow, and the defense of him was growing too costly unless there were
+positive results.
+
+Dave hinted at having nearly reached the solution, giving her only a bit
+of his wild idea of welding the sky. She took off with that, but he was
+sure it wouldn't satisfy the Sather. In that, he was right. By
+nightfall, when she came back from the city, he was groaning in pain.
+The venom had arrived ahead of her, and his blood seemed to be on fire.
+
+She laid a cool hand on his forehead. "Poor Dave," she said. "If I were
+not registered and certified, sometimes I feel that I might ... but no
+more of that. Ser Perth sends you this unguent which will hold back the
+venom for a time, cautioning you not to reveal his softness." Ser Perth,
+it seemed, had reverted to his pre-Sagittarian character as expected.
+"And Sather Karf wants the full plans at once. He is losing patience."
+
+He began rubbing on the ointment, which helped slightly. She peeled back
+his shirt and began helping, apparently delighted with the hair which
+he'd sprouted on his chest since his reincarnation. The unguent helped,
+but it wasn't enough.
+
+"He never had any patience to lose. What the hell does he expect me to
+do?" Dave asked hotly. "Snap my fingers thus, yell _abracadabra_ and
+give him egg in his beer?"
+
+He stopped to stare at his hand, where a can of beer had suddenly
+materialized!
+
+Nema squealed in delight. "What a novel way to conjure, Dave. Let me try
+it." She began snapping her fingers and saying the word eagerly, but
+nothing happened. Finally she turned back to him. "Show me again."
+
+He was sure it wouldn't work twice, and he hesitated, not too willing to
+have his stock go down with her. Then he gave in.
+
+"_Abracadabra!_" he said, and snapped his fingers.
+
+There were results at once. This time an egg appeared in his hand, to
+the delighted cry of Nema. He bent to look at it uncertainly. It was a
+strange looking egg--more like one of the china eggs used to make hens
+think they were nesting when their eggs were still being taken from
+them.
+
+Abruptly Nema sprang back. But she was too late. The egg was growing. It
+swelled to the size of a football, then was man-sized, and growing to
+the size of a huge tank that filled most of the tent. Suddenly it split
+open along one side and a group of men in dull robes and masks came
+spilling out of it.
+
+"Die!" the one in front yelled. He lifted a double-bladed knife, charged
+for Dave, and brought the knife down.
+
+The blades went through clothing, skin, flesh and bones, straight for
+Dave's heart.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+The knife had pierced Dave's chest until the hilt pressed against his
+rib cage. He stared down at it, seeing it rise with the heaving of his
+lungs. Yet he was still alive!
+
+Then the numbness of shock wore off and the pain nerves carried their
+messages to his brain. He still lived, but there was unholy agony
+where the blade lay. Coughing and choking on what must be his own
+blood, he scrabbled at the knife and ripped it out. Blood jetted from
+the gaping rent in his clothing. It gushed forth--and slowed; it
+frothed--trickled--and stopped entirely.
+
+As he ripped his shirt back to look, the wound was closed already. But
+there was no easing of the pain that threatened to make him black out at
+any second.
+
+He heard shouting, quarreling voices, but nothing made sense through the
+haze of his agony. He felt someone grab at him--more than one
+person--and they were dragging him willy-nilly across the ground.
+Something was clutched around his throat, almost choking him. He opened
+his eyes just as something clicked behind him.
+
+The huge, translucent walls of the monstrous egg were all around him and
+the opened side was closing.
+
+The pain began to abate. The bleeding had already stopped entirely and
+his lungs seemed to have cleared themselves of the blood and froth in
+them. Now with the ache of the wound ceasing, Dave could still feel the
+venom burning in his blood, and the constriction around his throat was
+still there, making it hard to breathe. He sat up, trying to free
+himself. The constriction came from an arm around his neck, but he
+couldn't see to whom it belonged, and there was no place to move aside
+in the corner of the egg.
+
+From inside, the walls of the egg were transparent enough for him to see
+cloudy outlines of what lay beyond. He could see the ground sweeping
+away beneath them from all points. A man had run up and was standing
+beside the egg, beating at it. The man suddenly shot up like a fountain,
+growing huge; he towered over them, until he seemed miles high and the
+giant structures Dave could see were only the turned-up toes of the
+man's shoes. One of those shoes was lifting, as if the man meant to step
+on the egg.
+
+They must be growing smaller again.
+
+A voice said tightly: "We're small enough, Bork. Can you raise the wind
+for us now?"
+
+"Hold on." Bork's voice seemed sure of itself.
+
+The egg tilted and soared. Dave was thrown sidewise and had to fight for
+balance. He stared unbelievingly through the crystal shell. They rose
+like a Banshee jet. There was a shaggy, monstrous colossus in the
+distance, taller than the Himalayas--the man who had been beside them.
+Bork grunted. "Got it! We're all right now." He chanted something in a
+rapid undertone "All right, relax. That will teach them not to work
+resonance magic inside a protective ring; the egg knows how we could
+have got through otherwise. Lucky we were trying at the right time,
+though. The Satheri must be going crazy. Wait a minute, this tires the
+fingers."
+
+The man called Bork halted the series of rapid passes he had been
+making, flexing his fingers with a grimace. The spinning egg began to
+drop at once, but he let out a long, keening cry, adding a slight flip
+of his other arm. Outside, something like a mist drew near and swirled
+around them. It looked huge to Dave, but must have been a small thing in
+fact. Now they began speeding along smoothly again. The thing was
+probably another sylph, strong enough to move them in their present
+reduced size.
+
+Bork pointed his finger. "There's the roc!" He leaned closer to the wall
+of the tiny egg and shouted. The sylph changed direction, and began to
+bob about.
+
+It drifted gently, while Bork pulled a few sticks with runes written on
+them toward him and made a hasty assembly of them. At once, there was a
+feeling of growing, and the sylph began to shrink away from them. Now
+they were falling swiftly, growing as they dropped. Dave felt his
+stomach twist, until he saw they were heading toward a huge bird that
+was cruising along under them, drawing closer. It looked like a cross
+between a condor and a hawk, but its wing span must have been over three
+hundred feet. It slipped under the egg, catching the falling object
+deftly on a cushion-like attachment between its wings, and then struck
+off briskly toward the east.
+
+Bork snapped the side of the egg open and stepped out while the others
+followed. Dave tried to crawl out, but something held him back. It
+wasn't until Bork's big hand reached in to help him that he made it.
+When all were out, Bork tapped the egg-shaped object and caught it as it
+shrank. When it was small enough, he pocketed it.
+
+Dave sat up again, examining himself, now that he had more room. His
+clothing was a mess, spattered with drying blood, but he seemed unharmed
+now. Even the burning of the venom was gone. He reached for the arm
+around his neck and began breaking it free from its stranglehold.
+
+From behind an incredulous cry broke out. Nema sprawled across him,
+staring at his face and burying her head against his shoulder. "Dave!
+You're not dead! You're alive!"
+
+Dave was still amazed at that himself. But Bork snorted. "Of course he
+is. Why'd we take him along with you hanging on in a faint if he were
+dead? When the snetha-knife kills, it kills completely. They stay dead,
+or they don't die. Sagittarian?"
+
+She nodded, and the big man seemed to be doing some calculations in his
+head.
+
+"Yeah," he decided. "It would be. There was one second there around
+midnight when all the signs were at their absolute maximum
+favorableness. Someone must have said some pretty dangerous health
+spells over him then." He turned to Dave, as if aware that the other was
+comparatively ignorant of such matters. "Happened once before, without
+this mess-up of the signs. They revived a corpse and found he was
+unkillable from then on. He lasted eight thousand years, or something
+like that, before he got burned trying to control a giant salamander.
+They cut off his head once, but it healed before the axe was all the way
+through. Woops!"
+
+The bird had dipped downward, rushing toward the ground. It landed at a
+hundred miles an hour and managed to stop against a small entrance to a
+cave in the hillside. Except for the one patch where the bird had
+lighted, they were in the middle of a dense forest.
+
+Dave and Nema were hustled into the cave, while the others melted into
+the woods, studying the skies. She clung to Dave, crying something about
+how the Sons of the Egg would torture them.
+
+"All right," he said finally. "Who are these sons of eggs? And what have
+they got against me?"
+
+"They're monsters," she told him. "They used to be the antimagic
+individualists. They wanted magic used only when other means wouldn't
+work. They fought against the Satheri. While magic produced their food
+and made a better world for them, they hated it because they couldn't do
+it for themselves. And a few renegade priests like my brother joined
+them."
+
+"Your brother?"
+
+"She means me," Bork said. He came in to drop on his haunches and grin
+at Dave. There was no sign of personal hatred in his look. "I used to be
+a stooge for Sather Karf, before I got sick of it. How do you feel, Dave
+Hanson?"
+
+Dave considered it, still in wonder at the truth. "I feel good. Even the
+venom they were putting in my blood doesn't seem to hurt any more."
+
+"Fine. Means the Sather Karf must believe we killed you--he must have
+the report by now. If he thinks you're dead, there's no point in his
+giving chase; he knows I wouldn't let them kill Nema, even if she is a
+little fool. Anyhow, he's not really such a bad old guy, Dave--not, like
+some of those Satheri. Well, you figure how you'd like it if you were
+just a simple man and some priest magicked her away from you--and then
+sent her back with enough magic of her own to be a witch and make life
+hell for you because she'd been kicked out by the priest, but he hadn't
+pulled the wanting spell off her. Or anything else you wanted and
+couldn't keep against magic. Sure, they fed us. They had to, after they
+took away our fields and the kine, and got everyone into the habit of
+taking their dole instead of earning our living in the old way. They
+made slaves of us. Any man who lets another be responsible for him _is_
+a slave. It's a fine world for the Satheri, if they can keep the egg
+from breaking."
+
+"What's all this egg nonsense?"
+
+Bork shrugged. "Plain good sense. Why should there be a sky shell around
+the planet? Look, there's a legend here. You should know it, since for
+all I know it has some meaning for you. Long ago--or away, or
+whatever--there was a world called Thare and another called Erath. Two
+worlds, separate and distinct, on their own branching time paths. They
+must have been that way since the moment of creation. One was a world of
+rule and law. One plus one might not always equal two, but it had to
+equal something. There seems to be some similarity to your world in
+that, doesn't there? The other was--well, you'd call it chaos, though it
+had some laws, if they could be predicted. One plus one there
+depended--or maybe there was no such thing as unity. Mass-energy wasn't
+conserved. It was deserved. It was a world of anarchy, from your point
+of view. It must have been a terrible place to live, I guess."
+
+He hesitated somberly. "As terrible as this one is getting to be," he
+said at last. "Anyway, there were people who lived there. There were the
+two inhabited worlds in their own time lines, or probability orbits, or
+whatever. You know, I suppose, how worlds of probability would separate
+and diverge as time goes on? Of course. Well, these two worlds
+_coalesced_."
+
+He looked searchingly at Dave. "Do you see it? The two time lines came
+together. Two opposites fused into one. Don't ask me to explain it; it
+was long ago, and all I know for sure is that it happened. The two
+worlds met and fused, and out of the two came this world, in what the
+books call the _Dawnstruggle_. When it was over, our world was as it
+has been for thousands of centuries. In fact, one result was that in
+theory, neither original world could have a real past, and the fusion
+was something that had been--no period of change. It's pretty
+complicated."
+
+"It sounds worse than that," Dave grumbled. "But while that might
+explain the mystery of magic working here, it doesn't explain your sky."
+
+Bork scratched his head. "No, not too well," he admitted. "I've always
+had some doubts about whether or not all the worlds have a shell around
+them. I don't know. But our world does, and the shell is cracking. The
+Satheri don't like it; they want to stop it. We want it to happen. For
+the two lines that met and fused into one have an analogue. Doesn't the
+story of that fusion suggest something to you, Dave Hanson? Don't you
+see it, the male principle of rule and the female principle of whim;
+they join, and the egg is fertile! Two universes join, and the result is
+a nucleus world surrounded by a shell, like an egg. We're a universe
+egg. And when an egg hatches, you don't try to put it back together!"
+
+He didn't look like a fanatic, Dave told himself. Crazy or not, he took
+this business of the hatching egg seriously. But you could never be sure
+about anyone who joined a cult. "What is your egg going to hatch into?"
+he asked.
+
+The big man shrugged. "Does an egg know it is going to become a hen--or
+maybe a fish? We can't possibly tell, of course."
+
+Dave considered it. "Don't you even have a guess?"
+
+Bork answered shortly, "No." He looked worried, Dave thought, and
+guessed that even the fanatics were not quite sure they _wanted_ to be
+hatched. Bork shrugged again.
+
+"An egg has got to hatch," he said. "That's all there is to it. We
+prophesied this, oh, two hundred years ago. The Satheri laughed. Now
+they've stopped laughing, but they want to stop it. What happens to a
+chick when it is stopped from hatching? Does it go on being a chick, or
+does it die? It dies, of course. And we don't want to die. No, Dave
+Hanson, we don't know what happens next--but we do know that we must go
+through with it. I have nothing against you personally--but I can't let
+you stop us. That's why we tried to kill you. If I could, I'd kill you
+now, with the snetha-knife so they couldn't revive you."
+
+Dave said reasonably, "You can't expect me to like it, you know. The
+Satheri, at least, saved my life--" He stopped in confusion. Bork was
+staring at him in hilarious incredulousness that broke into roars of
+laughter.
+
+"You mean ... Dave Hanson, do you believe everything they tell you?
+Don't you know that the Satheri arranged to kill you first? They needed
+a favorable death conjunction to bring you back to life; they got it--by
+arranging an accident!"
+
+Nema cried out in protest. "That's a lie!"
+
+"Of course," Bork said mildly. "You always were on their side, little
+sister. You were also usually a darned nuisance, fond as I was of you.
+Come here."
+
+He caught her and yanked a single hair out of her head. She screamed and
+tried to claw him, then fought for the hair. Bork was immovable. He held
+her off easily with one hand while the fingers of the other danced in
+the air. He spoke what seemed to be a name, though it bore no
+resemblance to Nema. She quieted, trembling.
+
+"You'll find a broom near the entrance, little sister. Take it and go
+back, to forget that Dave Hanson lives. You saw him die and were
+dragged off with us and his body. You escaped before we reached our
+hideaway. By the knot I tie in your true hair and by your secret name,
+this I command."
+
+She blinked slowly and looked around as Bork burned the knotted hair.
+Her eyes swept past Bork and Dave without seeing them and centered on
+the broom one man held out to her, without appearing to see him, either.
+She seized the broom. A sob came to her throat. "The devil! The renegade
+devil! He didn't have to kill Dave! He didn't--"
+
+Her voice died away as she ran toward the clearing. Dave made no
+protest. He suspected Bork was putting the spell on her for her own
+good, and he agreed that she was better out of all this.
+
+"Now where were we?" Bork asked. "Oh, yes, I was trying to convert you
+and knowing I'd failed already. Of course, I don't know that they killed
+you first--but those are their methods. Take it from me, I know. I was
+the youngest Ser ever to be accepted for training as a Sather. They
+wanted you, so they got you."
+
+Dave considered it. It seemed as likely as anything else. "Why me?" he
+asked.
+
+"Because you can put back the sky. At least, the Satheri think so, and I
+must admit that in some ways they are smarter than we."
+
+Dave started to protest, but Bork cut him off.
+
+"I know all about your big secret. You're not the engineer, whose true
+name was longer. We know all that. Our pools are closer to perfection
+than theirs, not being contaminated by city air, and we see more. But
+there is a cycle of confirmation; if prophecy indicates a thing will
+happen, it will happen--though not always as expected. The prophecy
+fulfills itself, rather than being fulfilled. Then there are the words
+on the monument--a monument meant for your uncle, but carrying your true
+name, because his friends felt the short form sounded better. It was
+something of a coincidence that they had the wrong true name. But
+prophecy is always strongest when based on coincidence--that is a prime
+rule. And those words coupled with our revelations prophesy that
+_you_--not your uncle--can do the impossible. So what are we going to do
+with you?"
+
+Bork's attitude was reassuring, somehow. It was nearer his own than any
+Dave had heard on this world. And the kidnapping was beginning to look
+like a relief. The Sons of the Egg had gotten him off the hook with
+Sather Karf. He grinned and stretched back. "If I'm unkillable, Bork,
+what can you do?"
+
+The big man grinned back. "Flow rock around you up to your nose and toss
+you into a lake. You'd live there--but you'd always be drowning and
+you'd find it slightly unpleasant for the next few thousand years! It's
+not as bad as being turned into a mangrove with your soul intact, but it
+would last longer. And don't think the Satheri can't pull a lot worse
+than that. They have your name--everyone has your secret name here--and
+parts of you."
+
+The conversation was suddenly less pleasant. Dave thought it over. "I
+could stay here and join your group. I might as well, since I can't
+really help the Satheri anyhow."
+
+"They'd spot your aura eventually. They'll be checking around here for
+us for a while. Of course, we might do something about it, if you really
+converted. But I don't think you would, if you knew more." Bork got up
+and headed for the entrance. "I wasn't going to let you see the
+risings, but now maybe I will. If you still want to join, it might be
+worked. Otherwise, I'll think of something else."
+
+Dave followed the man out into the clearing. A few men were just
+planning to leave, and they looked at Dave suspiciously, but made no
+protest. One, whom Dave recognized as the leader with the snetha-knife,
+scowled.
+
+"The risings are almost due, Bork," he said.
+
+Bork nodded. "I know, Malok. I've decided to let Dave Hanson watch.
+Dave, this is our leader here, Res Malok."
+
+Dave felt no strong love for his would-be murderer, and it seemed to be
+mutual. But no protest was lodged. Apparently Bork was their top
+conjurer, and privileged. They crossed the clearing and went through the
+woods toward another, smaller one. Here a group of some fifty men were
+watching the sky, obviously waiting. Others stood around, watching them
+and avoiding looking up. Almost directly overhead, there was a rent
+place where the strange absence of color or feature indicated a hole in
+the dome over them. As it drew nearer true vertical, a chanting began
+among the men with up-turned faces. Their hands went upwards, fingers
+spread and curled into an unnatural position. Then they stood waiting.
+
+"I don't like it," Bork whispered to Dave. "This is one of the reasons
+we're growing too weak to fight the Satheri."
+
+"What's wrong with a ceremony of worship, if you must worship your
+eggshell?" Dave asked.
+
+"You'll see. That was all it was once--just worship. But now for weeks,
+things are changing. They think it's a sign of favor, but I don't know.
+There, watch!"
+
+The hole in the sky was directly overhead now, and the moaning had
+risen in pitch. Across the little clearing, Malok began backing quietly
+away, carefully not looking upwards. Nobody but Dave seemed to notice
+his absence. There was a louder moan.
+
+One of the men in the clearing began to rise upwards slowly. His body
+was rigid as it lifted a foot, ten feet, then a hundred above the
+ground. Now it picked up speed, and rushed upwards. Another began to
+rise, and another. In seconds, more than half of those who had waited
+were screaming upwards toward the hole in the sky. They disappeared in
+the distance.
+
+Those who had merely stood by and those who had worshipped waited a few
+seconds more, but no more rose. The men sighed and began moving out of
+the clearing. Dave arose to follow, but Bork gestured for him to wait.
+
+"Sometimes--" he said.
+
+They were alone now. Still Bork waited, staring upwards. Then Dave saw
+something in the sky. A speck appeared and came hurtling down. In
+seconds, it was the body of one of the men who had risen. Dave felt his
+stomach tighten and braced himself. There was no slowing as the body
+fell. It landed in the center of the clearing, without losing speed, but
+with less noise than he had expected.
+
+When they reached the shattered body, there could be no question of its
+being dead.
+
+Bork's face was solemn. "If you're thinking of joining, you'd better
+know the worst. You're too easily shocked to make a good convert unless
+you're prepared. The risings have been going on for some time. Malok
+swears it proves we are right. But I've seen five other bodies come down
+like this. What does it mean? Are they stillborn? We don't know. Shall
+I revive him for you?"
+
+Dave felt sick as he stared at the ghastly terror on the face of the
+corpse. The last thing he wanted to see was its revival, but his
+curiosity about the secret in the sky could not be denied. He nodded.
+
+Bork drew a set of phials and implements in miniature size from under
+his robe. "This is routine," he said. He snapped his fingers and
+produced a small flame over the heart of the corpse. Into that he began
+dusting powders, mixing them with something that looked like blood.
+Finally he called a name and a command. There was a sharp explosion, a
+hissing, and Bork's voice calling.
+
+The dead man flowed together and was whole. He stood up woodenly, with
+his face frozen. "Who calls?" he asked in an uninflected, hollow voice.
+"Why am I called? I have no soul."
+
+"We call," Bork answered. "Tell us what you saw at the hole in the sky."
+
+A scream tore from the throat of the thing, and its hands came up to its
+eyes, tearing at them. Its mouth worked soundlessly, and breath sucked
+in. Then a single word came out.
+
+"Faces!"
+
+It fell onto the grass, distorted in death again. Bork shuddered.
+
+"The others were the same," he said. "And he can't be revived again.
+Even the strongest spell can't bring back his soul. That is gone,
+somehow."
+
+Dave shivered. "And knowing that, you'd still fight against repairing
+the sky?"
+
+"Hatching is probably always horrible from inside the shell," Bork
+answered. "Do you still want to join us? No, I thought not. Well, then,
+let's go back. We might as well try to eat something while I think
+about what to do with you."
+
+Malok and most of the others were gone when they reached the cave again.
+Bork fell to work with some scraps of food, cursing the configurations
+of the planets as his spell refused to work. Then suddenly the scraps
+became a mass of sour-smelling stuff. Bork made a face as he tasted it,
+but he ate it in silence. Dave couldn't force himself to put it in his
+mouth, though he was hungry by then.
+
+He considered, and then snapped his fingers. "Abracadabra," he cried. He
+swore as something wet and slimy that looked like seaweed plopped into
+his hand. The next time he got a limp fish that had been dead far too
+long. But the third try worked better. This time, a whole bunch of
+bananas appeared. They were a little riper than he liked, but some of
+them were edible enough. He handed some to the other man, who quickly
+abandoned his own creation.
+
+Bork was thoughtful as he ate. Finally he grimaced. "New magic!" he
+said. "Maybe that's the secret of the prophecy. I thought you knew no
+magic."
+
+"I didn't," Dave admitted. He was still tingling inside himself at this
+confirmation of his earlier discovery. It was unpredictable magic, but
+apparently bore some vague relationship to what he was wishing for.
+
+"So the lake's out," Bork decided. "With unknown powers at your command,
+you might escape in time. Well, that settles it. There's one place where
+nobody will look for you or listen to you. You'll be nothing but another
+among millions, and that's probably the best hiding place for you. With
+the overseers they have, you couldn't even turn yourself back to the
+Satheri, though I'll admit I'm hoping you don't want them to find you."
+
+"And I was beginning to think you liked me," Dave commented bitterly.
+
+Bork grinned. "I do, Dave Hanson. That's why I'm picking the easiest
+place to hide you I can think of. It will be hell, but anything else
+would be worse. Better strip and put this cloth on."
+
+The thing he held out was little more than a rag, apparently torn from
+one of the robes. "Come on, strip, or I'll burn off your clothes with a
+salamander. There, that's better. Now wrap the cloth around your waist
+and let it hang down in front. It'll be easier on you if you don't
+attract much attention. The sky seems to indicate the planets favor
+teleportation now. Be quick before I change my mind and think of
+something worse!"
+
+Dave didn't see what he did this time, but there was a puff of flame in
+front of his eyes.
+
+The next second, he stood manacled in a long line of men loaded with
+heavy stones. Over their backs fell the cutting lashes of a whip. Far
+ahead was a partially finished pyramid. Dave was obviously one of the
+building slaves.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+Sunrise glared harshly over the desert. It was already hot enough to
+send heat waves dancing over the sand as Hanson wakened under the bite
+of a lash. The overseers were shouting and kicking the slaves awake.
+Overhead the marred sky shone in crazy quilt patterns.
+
+Hanson stood up, taking the final bite of the whip without flinching. He
+glanced down at his body, noticing that it had somehow developed a
+healthy deep tan during the few hours of murderous labor the day before.
+He wasn't particularly surprised. Something in his mind seemed also to
+have developed a "tan" that let him face the bite of chance without
+flinching. He'd stopped wondering and now accepted; he meant to get away
+from here at the first chance and he was somehow sure he could.
+
+It was made easier by the boundless strength of his new body. He showed
+no signs of buckling under physical work that would have killed him on
+his own world.
+
+Not all the slaves got up. Two beside him didn't move at all. Sleeping
+through that brutal awakening seemed impossible. When Hanson looked
+closer, he saw that they weren't asleep; they were dead.
+
+The overseer raged back along the line and saw them. He must be one of
+those conjured into existence here from the real Egypt of the past. He
+might have no soul, but a lifetime of being an overseer had given him
+habits that replaced the need for what had been a pretty slim soul to
+begin with.
+
+"Quitters!" he yelled. "Lazy, worthless, work-dodging goldbrick
+artists!" He knelt in fury, thumbing back the eyelids of the corpses.
+There was little need for the test. They were too limp, too waxen to be
+pretending.
+
+The overseer cut them out of the chain and kicked at Hanson. "Move
+along!" he bellowed. "Menes himself is here, and he's not as gentle as I
+am."
+
+Hanson joined the long line, wondering what they were going to do about
+breakfast. How the devil did they expect the slaves to put in sixteen
+hours of work without some kind of food? There had been nothing the
+night before but a skin of water. There was not even that much this
+morning. No wonder the two beside him had died from overwork, beatings
+and plain starvation.
+
+Menes was there, all right. Hanson saw him from the distance, a skinny
+giant of a man in breechclout, cape and golden headdress. He bore a whip
+like everyone else who seemed to have any authority at all, but he
+wasn't using it. He was standing hawklike on a slight rise in the sandy
+earth, motionless and silent. Beside him was a shorter figure: a pudgy
+man with a thin mustache, on whom the Egyptian headdress looked
+strangely out of place. It could only be Ser Perth!
+
+Hanson's staring came to an end as the lash cut down across his
+shoulders, biting through to the shoulder-bone. He stumbled forward,
+heedless of the overseers' shouting voices. Someday, if he had the
+chance, he'd flay his own overseer, but that could wait. Even the agony
+of the cut couldn't take his mind from Ser Perth's presence. Had Bork
+slipped up--did the Satheri know that Hanson was still alive, and had
+they sent Ser Perth here to locate him? It seemed unlikely, however. The
+man was paying no attention to the lines of slaves. It would be hard to
+spot one among three million, anyhow. More likely, Hanson decided, Ser
+Perth was supervising the supervisors, making an inspection tour of all
+this.
+
+Of all what? Apparently then this must be another of their frenzied
+efforts to find a way to put back the sky. He'd heard that they had
+called up the pyramid builder, but hadn't fully realized it would lead
+to this type of activity.
+
+He looked around him appraisingly. The long lines of slaves that had
+been carrying rock and rubble the day before now were being formed into
+hauling teams. Long ropes were looped around enormous slabs of quarried
+rock. Rollers underneath them and slaves tugging and pushing at them
+were the only means of moving them. The huge stones slid remorselessly
+forward onto the prepared beds of rubble. Casting back in his memory,
+Hanson could not recall seeing the rock slabs the night before. They had
+appeared as if by magic--
+
+Obviously, they had really been conjured up by magic. But if the rocks
+could be conjured, what was the need of all the slaves and the sadistic
+overseers? Why not simply magic the entire construction, whatever it was
+to be?
+
+The whip hit him again, and the raging voice of the overseer ranted in
+his ears. "Get on, you blundering slacker. Menes himself is looking at
+you. Ho there--what the devil?"
+
+The overseer's hand spun Hanson around. The man's eyes, large and
+opaque, stared at Hanson. He frowned cruelly. "Yeah, you're the same
+one! Didn't I take the hide off your back twice already? And now you
+stand there without a scar or a drop of blood!"
+
+Hanson grunted feebly. He didn't want attention called to himself while
+Ser Perth was around. "I--I heal quickly." It was no more than the
+truth. Either the body they'd given him or the conjuring during the
+right split second had enabled him to heal almost before a blow was
+struck.
+
+"Magic!" The overseer scowled and gave Hanson a shove that sent him
+sprawling. "Blithering magic again! Magic stones that melt when you get
+them in place--magic slaves that the whip won't touch! And they expect
+us to do a job of work such as not even Thoth could dream up! They won't
+take honest work. No, they have to come snooping and conjuring and
+interfering. Wheels on rollers! Tools of steel and the gods know what
+instead of honest stone. Magic to lift things instead of honest ropes
+that shrink and wood that swells. Magic that fails, and rush, rush, rush
+until I'm half ready to be tortured for falling behind, and--you! You
+would, would you!" His voice trailed off into a fresh roar of rage as he
+caught sight of other slaves taking advantage of his attention to Hanson
+to relax. He raced off, brandishing the whip.
+
+Hanson tried to make himself inconspicuous after that. The wounds would
+heal, and the beatings could never kill him; but there had been no
+provision in his new body for the suppression of pain. He hungered,
+thirsted and suffered like anyone else. Maybe he was learning to take
+it, here, but not to like it.
+
+At the expense of a hundred slaves and considerable deterioration of the
+whips, one block of stone was in place before the sun was high overhead
+in the coppery, mottled sky. Then there was the blessing of a moment's
+pause. Men were coming down the long lines, handing something to the
+slaves. Food, Hanson anticipated.
+
+He was wrong. When the slave with the wicker basket came closer he could
+see that the contents were not food but some powdery stuff that was
+dipped out with carved spoons into the eager hands of the slaves. Hanson
+smelled his portion dubiously. It was cloying, sickly sweet.
+
+Hashish! Or opium, heroin, hemp--Hanson was no expert. But it was
+certainly some kind of drug. Judging by the avid way the other slaves
+were gulping it down, each one of them had been exposed to it before.
+Hanson cautiously made the pretense of swallowing his before he allowed
+it to slip through his fingers to mingle with the sand. Drug addiction
+was obviously a convenient way to make the slaves forget their aches and
+fears, to keep them everlasting anxious to please whatever was necessary
+to make sure the precious, deadly ration never stopped.
+
+There was still no sign of food. The pause in the labor was only for the
+length of time it took the drug-bearing slaves to complete their task.
+Ten minutes, or fifteen at the outside; then the overseers were back
+with the orders and the lashes.
+
+The slaves regrouped on new jobs, and Hanson found himself in a bunch of
+a dozen or so. They were lashing the hauling ropes around a twelve-foot
+block of stone; the rollers were already in place, with the crudely
+plaited ropes dangling loosely. Hanson found himself being lifted by a
+couple of the other slaves to the shoulders of a third. His clawing
+hands caught the top of the block and the slaves below heaved him
+upward. He scrambled to the top and caught the ropes that were flung up
+to him.
+
+From his vantage point he saw what he had not seen before--the amazing
+size of the construction project. This was no piffling little Gizeh
+pyramid, no simple tomb for a king. Its base was measured in kilometers
+instead of yards, and its top was going to be proportionally high,
+apparently. It hardly seemed that there could be enough stone in the
+whole world to finish the job. As far as Hanson could see, over the
+level sand, the ground was black with the suffering millions of slaves
+in their labor gangs.
+
+The idiots must be trying to reach the sky with their pyramid. There
+could be no other answer to the immense bulk planned for this structure.
+Like the pride-maddened men of Babel, they were building a sky-high
+thing of stone. It was obviously impossible, and even Menes must be
+aware of that. Yet perhaps it was no more impossible than all the rest
+of the things in this impossible world.
+
+When the warlocks of this world had discovered that they could not solve
+the problem of the sky, they must have gone into a state of pure
+hysteria, like a chicken dashing back and forth in front of a car. They
+had sought through other worlds and ages for anyone with a reputation as
+a builder, engineer or construction genius, without screening the
+probability of finding an answer. The size of the ancient pyramid must
+have been enough to sway them. They had used Hanson, Menes, Einstein,
+Cagliostro--for some reason of their own, since he'd never been a
+builder--and probably a thousand more. And then they had half-supplied
+all of them, rather than picking the most likely few and giving full
+cooperation. Magic must have made solutions to most things so easy that
+they no longer had the guts to try the impossible themselves. A pyramid
+seemed like a ridiculous solution, but for an incredible task, an
+impossible solution had to be tried.
+
+And maybe, he thought, they'd overlooked the obvious in their own
+system. The solution to a problem in magic should logically be found in
+magic, not in the methods of other worlds. His mind groped for something
+that almost came into his consciousness--some inkling of what should
+have been done, or how they had failed. It was probably only an idle
+fancy, but--
+
+"Hey!" One of the slaves below was waving at him. While Hanson looked
+down, the slave called to another, got a shoulder to lean on, and walked
+his way up the side of the block, pushed from below and helped by
+Hanson's hands above. He was panting when he reached the top, but he
+could still talk. "Look, it's your skin, but you're going to be in
+trouble if you don't get busy. Look out for that overseer up there.
+Don't just stand around when he's in sight." He picked up a loop of rope
+and passed it to Hanson, making a great show of hard work.
+
+Hanson stared up at the overseer who was staring back at him. "Why is he
+any worse than the rest of this crowd?"
+
+The slave shuddered as the dour, slow-moving overseer began walking
+stiffly toward them. "Don't let the fact that he's an overseer fool you.
+He's smarter than most of his kind, but just as ugly. He's a mandrake,
+and you can't afford to mess with him."
+
+Hanson looked at the ancient, wrinkled face of the mandrake and
+shuddered. There was the complete incarnation of inhumanity in the
+thing's expression. He passed ropes around the corners until the
+mandrake turned and rigidly marched away, the blows of his whip falling
+metronome-like on the slaves he passed. "Thanks," Hanson said "I wonder
+what it's like, being a true mandrake?"
+
+"Depends," the slave said easily. He was obviously more intelligent than
+most, and better at conserving himself. "Some mandrake-men are real. I
+mean, the magicians want somebody whom they can't just call back--direct
+translation of the body usually messes up the brain patterns enough to
+make the thinkers hard to use, especially with the sky falling. So they
+get his name and some hold on his soul and then rebuild his body around
+a mandrake root. They bind his soul into that, and in some ways he's
+almost human. Sometimes they even improve on what he was. But the true
+mandrake--like that one--never was human. Just an ugly, filthy
+simulacrum. It's bad business. I never liked it, even though I was in
+training for sersa rating."
+
+"You're from this world?" Hanson asked in surprise. He'd been assuming
+that the man was one of the things called back.
+
+"A lot of us are. They conscripted a lot of the people they didn't need
+for these jobs. But I was a little special. All right, maybe you don't
+believe me--you think they wouldn't send a student sersa here now. Look,
+I can prove it. I managed to sneak one of the books I was studying back
+with me. See?"
+
+He drew a thin volume from his breechclout cautiously, then slipped it
+back again. "You don't get such books unless you're at least of student
+rating." He sighed, then shrugged. "My trouble is that I could never
+keep my mouth shut. I was attendant at one of the revivatoria, and I got
+drunk enough to let out some information about one of the important
+revival cases. So here I am."
+
+"Umm." Hanson worked silently for a minute, wondering how far
+coincidence could go. It could go a long ways here, he decided. "You
+wouldn't have been sentenced to twenty lifetimes here by the Sather
+Karf, would you?"
+
+The slave stared at him in surprise. "You guessed it. I've died only
+fourteen times so far, so I've got six more lives to go. But--hey, you
+can't be! They were counting on you to be the one who really fixed
+things. Don't tell me my talking out of turn did this to you."
+
+Hanson reassured him on that. He recognized the man now for another
+reason. "Aren't you the one I saw dead on his back right next to me this
+morning?"
+
+"Probably. Name's Barg." He stood up to take a careful look at the net
+of cording around the stone. "Looks sound enough. Yeah, I died this
+morning, which is why I'm fairly fresh now. Those overseers won't feed
+us because it takes time and wastes food; they let us die and then have
+us dragged back for more work. It's a lot easier on the ones they
+dragged back already dead; dying doesn't matter so much without a soul."
+
+"Some of them seem to be Indians," Hanson noted. He hadn't paid too
+much attention, but the slaves seemed to be from every possible
+background.
+
+Barg nodded. "Aztecs from a place called Tenochtitlan. Twenty thousand
+of them got sacrificed in a bunch for some reason or other. Poor devils.
+They think this is some kind of heaven. They tell me this is easy work
+compared to the type they had to undergo. The Satheri like to get big
+bunches through in one conjuration, like the haul they made from the
+victims of somebody named Tamerlane." He tested a rope, then dropped to
+a sitting position on the edge of the block. "I'll let you stay up to
+call signals from here. Only watch it. That overseer has his eyes on
+you. Make sure the ropes stay tight while we see if the thing can be
+moved."
+
+He started to slip over the side, hanging by his fingertips. Something
+caught, and he swore. With one hand, he managed to free his breechclout
+and drag out the thin volume that was lodged between his groin and the
+block. "Here, hold this for me until we meet tonight. You've got more
+room to hide it in your cloth than I have." He tossed it over quickly,
+then dropped from sight to land on the ground below.
+
+Hanson shoved the book out of sight and tried to act busy again. The
+mandrake overseer had started ponderously toward him. But in a moment
+the thing's attention was directed to some other object of torture.
+
+Hanson braced himself as the lines of slaves beneath him settled
+themselves to the ropes. There was a loud cracking of whips and a chorus
+of groans. A small drum took up a beat, and the slaves strained and
+tugged in unison. Ever so slowly, the enormous block of stone began to
+move, while the ropes drew tighter.
+
+Hanson checked the rigging with half his mind, while the other half
+raced in a crazy circle of speculation. Mandrakes and mandrake-men,
+zombie-men, from the past and multiple revivals! A sky that fell in
+great chunks. What came next in this ridiculous world in which he seemed
+to be trapped?
+
+As if in answer to his question, there was a sudden, coruscating flare
+from above.
+
+Hanson's body reacted instinctively. His arm came up over his eyes,
+cutting off the glare. But he managed to squint across it, upwards
+toward what was happening in the cracked dome. For a split second, he
+thought that the sun had gone nova.
+
+He was wrong, but not by too much. Something had happened to the sun.
+Now it was flickering and flaming, shooting enormous jets of fire from
+its rim. It hovered at the edge of a great new hole and seemed to be
+wobbling, careening and losing its balance.
+
+There was a massive shriek of fear and panic from the horde of slaves.
+They began bellowing like the collective death-agony of a world. Most of
+them dropped their ropes and ran in blind panic, trampling over each
+other in their random flight for safety. The human overseers were part
+of the same panic-stricken riot. Only the mandrakes stood stolidly in
+place, flicking each running man who passed them.
+
+Hanson flung himself face down on the stone. There was a roar of
+tortured air from overhead and a thundering sound that was unlike
+anything except the tearing of an infinity of cloth combined with a
+sustained explosion of atomic bombs. Then it seemed as if the
+thunderbolt of Thor himself had blasted in Hanson's ears.
+
+The sky had ripped again, and this time the entire dome shook with the
+shock. But that wasn't the worst of it.
+
+The sun had broken through the hole and was falling!
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+The fall of the sun was seemingly endless. It teetered out of the hole
+and seemed to hover, spitting great gouts of flame as it encountered the
+phlogiston layer. Slowly, agonizingly, it picked up speed and began its
+downward rush. Unlike the sky, it seemed to obey the normal laws of
+inertia Hanson had known. It swelled bit by bit, raging as it drew
+nearer. And it seemed to be heading straight for the pyramid.
+
+The heat was already rising. It began to sear the skin long before the
+sun struck the normal atmosphere. Hanson could feel that he was being
+baked alive. The blood in his arteries seemed to bubble and boil, though
+that must have been an illusion. But he could see his skin rise in giant
+blisters and heal almost at once to blister again. He screamed in agony,
+and heard a million screams around him. Then the other screams began to
+decrease in numbers and weaken in volume, and he knew that the slaves
+were dying.
+
+Through a slit between two fingers, he watched the ponderous descent.
+The light was enough to sear his retinas, but even they healed faster
+than the damage. He estimated the course of the sun, amazed to find that
+there was no panic in him, and doubly amazed that he could think at all
+over the torture that wracked his body.
+
+Finally, convinced that the sun would strike miles to the south, he
+rolled across the scorching surface of the stone block and dropped to
+the north side of it. The shock of landing must have broken bones, but
+a moment later he could begin to breathe again. The heat was still
+intense, even behind the stone block, but it was bearable--at least for
+him.
+
+Pieces were breaking off the sun as it fell, and already striking the
+ground. One fell near, and its heat seared at him, giving him no place
+of shelter. Then the sun struck, sending up earth tremors that knocked
+him from his feet. He groped up and stared around the block.
+
+The sun had struck near the horizon, throwing up huge masses of
+material. Its hissing against the ground was a tumult in his ears, and
+superheated ash and debris began to fall.
+
+So far as he could see, there were no other survivors in the camp. Three
+million slaves had died. Those who had found some shelter behind the
+stonework had lived longer than the others, but that had only increased
+their suffering. And even his body must have been close to its limits,
+if it could be killed at all.
+
+He was still in danger. If a salamander could destroy even such a body
+as his, then the fragments of sun that were still roiling across the
+landscape would be fatal. The only hope he had was to get as far away
+from the place where the sun had struck as he could.
+
+He braced himself to leave even the partial shelter. There was a pile of
+water skins near the base of the block, held in the charred remains of
+an attendant's body. The water was boiling, but there was still some
+left. He poured several skins together and drank the stuff, forcing
+himself to endure the agony of its passage down his throat. Without it,
+he'd be dehydrated before he could get a safe distance away.
+
+Then he ran. The desert was like molten iron under his bare feet, and
+the savage radiation on his back was worse than any overseer's whip.
+His mind threatened to blank out with each step, but he forced himself
+on. And slowly, as the distance increased, the sun's pyre sank further
+and further over the horizon. The heat should still have been enough to
+kill any normal body in fifteen minutes, but he could endure it. He
+stumbled on in a trot, guiding himself by the stars that shone in the
+broken sky toward a section of this world where there had been life and
+some measure of civilization before. After a few hours, the tongues of
+flame no longer flared above the horizon, though the brilliant radiance
+continued. And Hanson found that his strong and nearly indestructible
+body still had limits. It could not go on without rest forever. He was
+sobbing with fatigue at every step.
+
+He managed to dig a small hollow in the sand before dropping off to
+sleep. It was a sleep of total exhaustion, lacking even a sense of time.
+It might have been minutes or hours that he slept, and he had no way of
+knowing which. With the sun gone and the stars rocking into dizzy new
+configurations, there was no night or day, nor any way to guess the
+passage of time.
+
+He woke to a roaring wind that sent cutting blasts of sand driving
+against him. He staggered up and forced himself against it, away from
+the place where the sun had fallen. Even through the lashing sandstorm,
+he could see the glow near the horizon. Now a pillar of something that
+looked like steam but was probably vapor from molten and evaporated
+rocks was rising upwards, like the mushroom clouds of his own days. It
+was spreading, apparently just under the phlogiston layer, reflecting
+back the glare. And the wind was caused by the great rising column of
+superheated gases over the sun.
+
+He staggered on, while the sand gave way slowly to patches of green.
+With the sun gone and the sky falling into complete shreds, this world
+was certainly doomed. He'd assumed that the sun of this world must be
+above the sky, but he'd been wrong; like the other heavenly bodies, it
+had been embedded inside the shell. He had discovered that the sky
+material resisted any sudden stroke, but that other matter could be
+interpenetrated into it, as the stars were. He had even been able to
+pass his hand and arm completely through the sample. Apparently the sun
+had passed through the sky in a similar manner.
+
+Then why hadn't the shell melted? He had no real answer. The sun must
+have been moving fast enough so that no single spot became too hot, or
+else the phlogiston layer somehow dissipated the heat.
+
+The cloud of glowing stuff from the rising air column was spreading out
+now, reflecting the light and heat back to the earth. There was a chance
+that most of one hemisphere might retain some measure of warmth, then.
+At least there was still light enough for him to travel safely.
+
+By the time he was too tired to go on again, he had come to the
+beginnings of fertile land. He passed a village, but it had been looted,
+and he skirted around it rather than stare at the ghastly ghoul-work of
+the looters. The world was ending, but civilization seemed to have ended
+already. Beyond it, he came to a rude house, now abandoned. He staggered
+in gratefully.
+
+For a change, he had one piece of good luck. His first attempt at magic
+produced food. At the sound of the snapping fingers and his
+hoarse-voiced "abracadabra," a dirty pot of hot and greasy stew came
+into existence. He had no cutlery, but his hands served well enough.
+When it was gone, he felt better. He wiped his hands on the
+breechclout. Whatever the material in the cloth, it had stood the sun's
+heat almost as well as he had.
+
+Then he paused as his hand found a lump under the cloth. He drew out the
+apprentice magician's book. The poor devil had never achieved his twenty
+lifetimes, and this was probably all that was left of him. Hanson stared
+at it, reading the title in some surprise.
+
+_Applied Semantics._
+
+He propped himself up and began to scan it, wondering what it had to do
+with magic. He'd had a course of semantics in college and could see no
+relationship. But he soon found that there were differences.
+
+This book began with the axiomatic statement that the symbol is the
+thing. From that it developed in great detail the fact that any part of
+a whole bearing similarity to the whole was also the whole; that each
+seven was the class of all sevens; and other details of the science of
+magical similarity followed quite logically from the single axiom.
+Hanson was surprised to find that there was a highly developed logic to
+it. Once he accepted the axiom--and he was no longer prepared to doubt
+it here--he could follow the book far better than he'd been able to
+follow his own course in semantics. Apparently this was supposed to be a
+difficult subject, from the constant efforts of the writer to make his
+point clear. But after learning to deal with electron holes in
+transistors, this was elementary study for Hanson.
+
+The second half of the book dealt with the use of the true name. That,
+of course, was the perfect symbol, and hence the true whole. There was
+the simple ritual of giving a secret name. Apparently any man who
+discovered a principle or device could use a name for it, just as
+parents could give one to their children. And there were the laws for
+using the name. Unfortunately, just when Hanson was beginning to make
+some sense of it, the book ended. Obviously, there was a lot more to be
+covered in later courses.
+
+He tossed the book aside, shivering as he realized that his secret name
+was common knowledge. The wonder was that he could exist at all. And
+while there was supposed to be a ritual for relinquishing one name and
+taking another, that was one of the higher mysteries not given.
+
+In the morning, he stopped to magic up some more food and the clothing
+he would need if he ever found the trace of civilized people again. The
+food was edible, though he'd never particularly liked cereal. He seemed
+to be getting the hang of abracadabraing up what was in his mind. But
+the clothing was a problem. Everything he got turned out to be the right
+size, but he couldn't see himself in hauberk and greaves, nor in a filmy
+nightgown. Finally, he managed something that was adequate, if the
+brilliant floral sportshirt could be said to go with levi pants and a
+morning frock. But he felt somewhat better in it. He finally left the
+frock behind, however. It was still too hot for that.
+
+He walked on briskly, watching for signs of life and speculating on the
+principles of applied semantics, name magic and similarity. He could
+begin to understand how an Einstein might read through one of the
+advanced books here and make leaps in theory beyond what the Satheri had
+developed. They'd had it too easy. Magic that worked tended to overcome
+the drive for the discipline needed to get the most out of it. Any good
+theoretician from Hanson's world could probably make fools of these
+people. Maybe that was why the Satheri had gone scrounging back through
+other worlds to find men who had the necessary drive to get things done
+when the going was tough.
+
+Twice he passed abandoned villages, but there was nothing there for him.
+He was coming toward forested ground now, something like the country in
+which the Sons of the Egg had found refuge. The thought of that made him
+go slower. But for a long time, there was no further sign of life. The
+woods thinned out to grasslands, and he went on for hours more before he
+spotted a cluster of lights ahead.
+
+As he drew nearer, he saw that the lights seemed to be fluorescents.
+They were coming from corrugated iron sheds that looked like aircraft
+hangars strung together. There was a woven-wire fence around the
+structures, and a sign that said simply: _Project Eighty-Five_. In the
+half-light from the sky, he could see a well-kept lawn, and there were a
+few groups of men standing about idly. Most wore white coveralls, though
+two were dressed in simple business suits.
+
+Hanson moved forward purposefully, acting as if he had urgent business.
+If he stopped, there would be questions, he suspected; he wanted to find
+answers, not to answer idle questions.
+
+There was no one at the desk in the little reception alcove, but he
+heard the sound of voices through a side door leading out. He went
+through it, to find a larger yard with more men idling. There should be
+someone here who knew more of what was going on in this world than he
+did now.
+
+His choice, in the long run, seemed to lie between Bork and the Satheri,
+unless he could find some way of hiding himself from both sides. At the
+moment, he was relatively free for the first time since they had brought
+him here, and he wanted to make sure that he could make the most use of
+the fact.
+
+Nobody asked anything. He slowed, drifting along the perimeter of the
+group of men, and still nobody paid him any attention. Finally, he
+dropped onto the ground near a group of half a dozen men who looked more
+alert than the rest. They seemed to be reminiscing over old times.
+
+     "--two thirty-eight an hour with overtime--and double time for
+     the swing shift. We really had it made then! And every
+     Saturday, never fail, the general would come out from Muroc and
+     tell us we were the heros of the home front--with overtime pay
+     while we listened to him!"
+
+     "Yeah, but what if you wanted to quit? Suppose you didn't like
+     your shift boss or somebody? You go down and get your time, and
+     they hand you your draft notice. Me, I liked it better in '46.
+     Not so much pay, but--"
+
+Hanson pricked up his ears. The conversation told him more than he
+needed to know. He stood up and peered through the windows of the shed.
+There, unattended under banks of lights, stood half-finished aircraft
+shapes.
+
+He wouldn't get much information here, it seemed. These were obviously
+reanimates, men who'd been pulled from his own world and set to work.
+They could do their duties and their memories were complete, but they
+were lacking some essential thing that had gone out of them before they
+were brought here. Unless he could find one among them who was either a
+mandrake-man housing a soul or one of the few reanimates who seemed
+almost fully human, he'd get little information. But he was curious as
+to what the Satheri had expected to do with aircraft. The rocs had
+better range and altitude than any planes of equal hauling power.
+
+He located one man who seemed a little brighter than the others. The
+fellow was lying on the ground, staring at the sky with his hands
+clasped behind his head. From time to time, he frowned, as if the sight
+of the sky was making him wonder. The man nodded as Hanson dropped down
+beside him. "Hi. Just get here, Mac?"
+
+"Yeah," Hanson assented. "What's the score?"
+
+The man sat up and made a disgusted noise. "Who knows?" he answered.
+There was more emotion in his voice than might be expected from a
+reanimate; in real life on his own world, he must have had an amazing
+potential for even that much to carry over. "We're dead. We're dead, and
+we're here, and they tell us to make helicopters. So we make them,
+working like dogs to make a deadline. Then, just as the first one comes
+off the line, the power fails. No more juice. The head engineer took off
+in the one we finished. He was going to find out what gives, but he
+never came back. So we sit." He spat on the ground. "I wish they'd left
+me dead after the plant blew up. I'm not myself since then."
+
+"What in hell would they need with helicopters?" Hanson asked.
+
+The man shrugged. "Beats me. But I'm beginning to figure some things
+out. They've got some kind of trouble with the sky. I figure they got
+confused in bringing us here. This shop is one that made those big cargo
+copters they call 'Sky Hooks' and maybe they thought the things were
+just what they're called. All I know is they kept us working five solid
+weeks for nothing. I knew the power was going to fail; they had the
+craziest damn generating plant you ever saw, and it couldn't last. The
+boilers kept sizzling and popping their safety valves with no fire in
+the box! Just some little old man sitting in a corner, practicing the
+Masonic grip or something over a smudgepot."
+
+Hanson gestured back to the sheds. "If there's no power, what are those
+lights?"
+
+"Witch lights, they told us," the man explained. "Saved a lot of wiring,
+or something. They--hey, what's that?"
+
+He was looking up, and Hanson followed his gaze. There was something
+whizzing overhead at jet-plane speed. "A piece of the sky falling?" he
+said.
+
+The man snorted. "Falling sidewise? Not likely, even here. I tell you,
+pal, I don't like this place. Nothing works right. There was no fuel for
+the 'copter we finished--the one we called Betsy Ann. But the little
+geezer who worked the smudgepot just walked up to it and wiggled his
+finger. 'Start your motor going, Betsy Ann,' he ordered with some other
+mumbo-jumbo. Then the motor roared and he and the engineer, took off at
+double the speed she could make on high-test gas. Hey, there it is
+again! Doesn't look like the Betsy Ann coming back, either."
+
+The something whizzed by again, in the other direction, but lower and
+slower. It made a gigantic but erratic circle beyond the sheds and
+swooped back. It looked nothing like a helicopter. It looked like a
+Hallowe'en decoration of a woman on a broomstick. As it came nearer,
+Hanson saw that it _was_ a woman on a broomstick, flying erratically.
+She straightened out in a flat glide.
+
+She came in for a one-point landing a couple of yards away. The tip of
+the broom handle hit the ground, and she went sailing over it, to land
+on her hands and knees. She got up, facing the shed.
+
+The woman was Nema. Her face was masklike, her eyes tortured. She was
+staring searchingly around her, looking at every man.
+
+"Nema!" Hanson cried.
+
+She spun to face him, and gasped. Her skin seemed to turn gray, and her
+eyes opened to double their normal size. She took one tottering step
+toward him and halted.
+
+"Illusion!" she whispered hoarsely, and slumped to the ground in a
+faint.
+
+She was reviving before he could raise her from the ground. She swayed a
+moment, staring at him. "You're not dead!"
+
+"What's so wonderful about that around here?" he asked, but not with
+much interest. With the world going to pot and only a few days left, the
+girl's face and the slim young body under it were about all the reality
+left worth thinking about. He grabbed for her, pulling her to him.
+Bertha had never made him feel like that.
+
+She managed to avoid his lips and slid away from him. "But they used the
+snetha-knife! Dave Hanson, you never died! It was only induced illusion
+by that--that Bork! And to think that I nearly died of grief while you
+were enjoying yourself here! You ... you mandrake-man!"
+
+He grunted. He'd almost managed to forget what he was, and he didn't
+enjoy having the aircraft worker find out. He turned to see what the
+reaction was, and then stared open-mouthed at his surroundings.
+
+There were no lights from the plane factory. In fact, there was no plane
+factory. In the half-light of the sky, he saw that the plant was gone.
+No men were left. There was only barren earth, with a tiny, limp sapling
+in the middle of empty acres.
+
+"What happened?"
+
+Nema glanced around briefly and sighed. "It's happening all over. They
+created the plane plant by the law of identities from that little plane
+tree sapling, I suppose; it is a plane plant, after all. But with the
+conjunctions and signs failing, all such creations are returning to
+their original form, unless a spell is used continually over them. Even
+then, sometimes, we fail. Most of the projects vanished after the sun
+fell."
+
+Hanson remembered the man with whom he'd been talking before Nema
+appeared. He'd have liked to know such a man before death and
+revivification had ruined him. It wasn't fair that anyone with character
+enough to be that human even as a zombie should be wiped out without
+even a moment's consideration. Then he remembered the man's own estimate
+of his current situation. Maybe he was better off returned to the death
+that had claimed him.
+
+Reluctantly, he returned to his own problems. "All right, then, if you
+thought I was dead, what are you doing here, Nema?"
+
+"I felt the compulsion begin even before I returned to the city. I
+thought I was going mad. I tried to forget you, but the compulsion grew
+until I could fight it no longer." She shuddered. "It was a terrible
+flight. The carpets will not work at all now, and I could hardly control
+the broom. Sometimes it wouldn't lift. Twice it sailed so high I could
+hardly breathe. And I had no hope of finding you, yet I went on. I've
+been flying when I could for three days now."
+
+Bork, of course, hadn't known of her spell with which she'd forced
+herself to want him "well and truly." Apparently it had gone on
+operating even when she thought he was dead, and with a built-in sense
+of his direction. Well, she was here--and he wasn't sorry.
+
+Hanson took another look across the plains toward the glowing hell of
+the horizon. He reached for her and pulled her to him. She was firm and
+sweet against him, and she was trembling in response to his urging.
+
+At the last moment she pulled back. "You forget yourself, Dave Hanson!
+I'm a registered and certified virgin. My blood is needed for--"
+
+"For spells that won't work anyhow," he told her harshly. "The sky isn't
+falling now, kid. It's down--or most of it."
+
+"But--" She hesitated and then let herself come a trifle closer. Her
+voice was doubtful. "It's true that our spells are failing. Not even the
+surest magic is reliable. The world has gone mad, and even magic is no
+longer trustworthy. But--"
+
+He was just pulling her close enough again and feeling her arms lift to
+his neck when the ground shook behind them and there was a sound of
+great, jarring, thudding steps.
+
+Hanson jerked around to see a great roc making its landing run, heading
+straight for them. The huge bird braked savagely, barely stopping before
+they were under its feet.
+
+From its back, a ladder of some flexible material snaked down and men
+began descending. The first were mandrakes in the uniform of the
+Satheri, all carrying weapons with evil-looking blades or sharp
+stickers.
+
+The last man off was Bork. He came toward Hanson and Nema with a broad
+grin on his face. "Greetings, Dave Hanson. You do manage to survive,
+don't you? And my little virgin sister, without whose flight I might not
+have found you. Well, come along. The roc's growing impatient!"
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+The great roc's hard-drumming wings set up a constant sound of rushing
+air and the distance flowed behind them. There was the rush of wind all
+around them, but on the bird's back they were in an area where
+everything seemed calm. Only when Hanson looked over toward the ground
+was he fully conscious of the speed they were making. From the height,
+he could see where the sun had landed. It was sinking slowly into the
+earth, lying in a great fused hole. For miles around, smaller drops of
+the three-mile-diameter sun had spattered and were etching deeper holes
+in the pitted landscape.
+
+Then they began passing over desolate country, scoured by winds, gloomy
+from the angry, glaring clouds above. Once, two bodies went hurtling
+upwards toward the great gaps in the sky.
+
+"Those risings were from men who were no worshippers of the egg's
+hatching," Bork commented. "It's spreading. Something is drawing them up
+from all over the planet."
+
+Later, half a square mile of the shell cracked off. The roc squawked
+harshly, but it had learned and had been watching above. By a frantic
+effort of the great wings, it missed the hurtling chunk. They dropped a
+few thousand feet in the winds that followed the piece of sky, but their
+altitude was still safe.
+
+Then they passed over a town, flying low. The sights below were out of a
+ghoul's bacchanalia. As the roc swept over, the people stopped their
+frenzied pursuit of sensation and ran for weapons. A cloud of arrows
+hissed upwards, all fortunately too late.
+
+"They blame all their troubles on the magicians," Bork explained.
+"They've been shooting at everything that flies. Not a happy time to
+associate with the Satheri, is it?"
+
+Nema drew further back from him. "We're not all cowards like you! Only
+rats desert a sinking ship."
+
+"Nobody thought it was sinking when I deserted," Bork reminded her.
+"Anyhow, if you'd been using your eyes and seen the way we are
+traveling, you'd know I've rejoined the crew. I've made up with the
+Sather Karf--and at a time like this, our great grandfather was glad to
+have me back!"
+
+Nema rushed toward him in delight, but Hanson wasn't convinced. "Why?"
+he asked.
+
+Bork sobered. "One of the corpses that fell back from the risings added
+a word to what the others had said. No, I'll bear the weight of it
+myself, and not burden you with it. But I'm convinced now that his egg
+should not hatch. I had doubts before, unlike our friend Malok, who also
+heard the words but is doubly the fanatic now. Perhaps the hatching
+cannot be stopped--but I've decided that I am a man and must fight like
+one against the fates. So, though I still oppose much that the Satheri
+have done, I've gone back to them. We'll be at the camp of the Sather
+Karf shortly."
+
+That sewed everything up neatly, Hanson thought. Before, he had been
+torn between two alternatives. Now there was only one and he had no
+choice; he could never trust the Sons of the Egg with Bork turned
+against them. He stared up at the sky, realizing that more than half of
+it had already fallen. The rest seemed too weak to last much longer. It
+probably didn't make much difference what he did now or who had him;
+time was running out for this world.
+
+The light was dimmer by the time they reached the great capital city--or
+what was left of it. They had left the sun pyre far to the south. The
+air was growing cold already.
+
+The roc flew low over the city. The few people on the streets looked up
+and made threatening gestures, but there was no flight of arrows from
+the ground. Probably the men below had lost even the strength to hate.
+It was hard to see, since there was no electric lighting system now. But
+it seemed to Hanson that only the oldest and ugliest buildings were
+still standing. Honest stone and metal could survive, but the work of
+magic was no longer safe.
+
+One of the remaining buildings seemed to be a hospital, and the empty
+space in front of it was crammed with people. Most of them seemed to be
+dead or unconscious. Squat mandrakes were carrying off bodies toward a
+great fire that was burning in another square. Plague and pestilence had
+apparently gotten out of hand.
+
+They flew on, beyond the city toward the construction camp that had been
+Hanson's headquarters. The roc was beginning to drop into a long landing
+glide, and details below were easier to see. Along the beach beyond the
+city, a crowd had collected. They had a fire going and were preparing to
+cook one of the mermaids. A fight was already going on over the prey.
+Food must have been exhausted days before.
+
+The camp was a mess when they reached it. One section had been ripped
+down by the lash of wind from a huge piece of the sky, which now lay
+among the ruins with a few stars glowing inside it. There was a
+brighter glow beyond. Apparently one blob of material from the sun had
+been tossed all the way here and had landed against a huge rock to
+spatter into fragments. The heat from those fragments cut through the
+chill in the air, and the glow furnished light for most of the camp.
+
+The tents had been burned, but there was a new building where the main
+tent had been. This was obviously a hasty construction job, thrown
+together of rocks and tree trunks, without the use of magic. It was more
+of an enormous lean-to than a true building, but it was the best
+protection now available. Hanson could see Sather Karf and Sersa Garm
+waiting outside, together with less than a hundred other warlocks.
+
+The mandrakes prodded Hanson down from the roc and toward the new
+building, then left at a wave of the Sather Karf's hand. The old man
+stared at Hanson intently, but his expression was unreadable. He seemed
+to have aged a thousand years. Finally he lifted his hand in faint
+greeting, sighed and dropped slowly to a seat. His face seemed to
+collapse, with the iron running out of it. He looked like a beaten, sick
+old man. His voice was toneless. "Fix the sky, Dave Hanson!"
+
+There were angry murmurs from other warlocks in the background, but
+Sather Karf shook his head slowly, still facing Hanson. "No--what good
+to threaten dire punishments or to torture you when another day or week
+will see the end of everything? What good to demand your reasons for
+desertion when time is so short? Fix the sky and claim what reward you
+will afterwards. We have few powers now that the basis of astrology is
+ruined. But repair our sky and we can reward you beyond your dreams. We
+can find ways to return you to your own world intact. You have near
+immortality now. We can fill that entire lifetime with pleasures. We'll
+give you jewels to buy an empire. Or if it is vengeance against whatever
+you feel we are, you shall know my secret name and the name of everyone
+here. Do with us then what you like. _But fix the sky!_"
+
+It shook Hanson. He had been prepared to face fury, or to try lying his
+way out if there was a chance with some story of having needed to study
+Menes's methods. Or of being lost. But he had no defense prepared
+against such an appeal.
+
+It was utterly mad. He could do nothing, and their demands were
+impossible. But before the picture of the world dying and the decay of
+the old Sather's pride, even Hanson's own probable death with the dying
+world seemed unimportant. He might at least give them something to hope
+for while the end came.
+
+"Maybe," he said slowly. "Maybe, if all of the men you brought here to
+work on the problem were to pool their knowledge, we might still find
+the answer. How long will it take to get them here for a council?"
+
+Ser Perth appeared from the group. Hanson had thought the man dead in
+the ruins of the pyramid, but somehow he had survived. The fat was going
+from his face, and his mustache was untrimmed, but he was uninjured. He
+shook his head sadly. "Most have disappeared with their projects. Two
+escaped us. Menes is dead. Cagliostro tricked us successfully. You are
+all we have left. And we can't even supply labor beyond those you see
+here. The people no longer obey us, since we have no food to give them."
+
+"You're the only hope," Bork agreed. "They've saved what they could of
+the tools from the camp and what magical instruments are still useful.
+They've held on only for your return."
+
+Hanson stared at them and around at the collection of bric-a-brac and
+machinery they had assembled for him. He opened his mouth, and his
+laughter was a mockery of their hopes and of himself.
+
+"Dave Hanson, world saver! You got the right name but the wrong man,
+Sather Karf," he said bitterly. He'd been a pretender long enough, and
+what punitive action they took now didn't seem to matter. "You wanted my
+uncle, David Arnold Hanson. But because his friends called him Dave and
+cut that name on his monument, and because I was christened by the name
+you called, you got me instead. He'd have been helpless here, probably,
+but with me you have no chance. I couldn't even build a doghouse. I
+wasn't even a construction engineer. Just a computer operator and
+repairman."
+
+He regretted ruining their hopes, almost as he said it. But he could see
+no change on the old Sather's face. It seemed to stiffen slightly and
+become more thoughtful, but there was no disappointment.
+
+"My grandson Bork told me all that," he said. "Yet your name was on the
+monument, and we drew you back by its use. Our ancient prophecy declared
+that we should find omnipotence carved on stone in a pool of water, as
+we found your name. Therefore, by the laws of rational magic, it is
+_you_ to whom nothing is impossible. We may have mistaken the direction
+of your talent, but nonetheless it is you who must fix the sky. What
+form of wonder is a computer?"
+
+Dave shook his head at the old man's monomania. "Just a tool. It's a
+little hard to explain, and it couldn't help."
+
+"Humor my curiosity, then. What is a computer, Dave Hanson?"
+
+Nema's hand rested on Hanson's arm pleadingly, and he shrugged. He
+groped about for some answer that could be phrased in their language,
+letting his mind flicker from the modern electronic gadgets back to the
+old-time tide predicter.
+
+"An analogue computer is a machine that ... that sets up conditions
+mathematically similar to the conditions in some problem and then lets
+all the operations proceed while it draws a graph--a prediction--of how
+the real conditions would turn out. If the tides change with the
+position of some heavenly body, then we can build cams that have shapes
+like the effect of the moon's orbit, and gear them together in the right
+order. If there are many factors, we have a cam for each factor, shaped
+like the periodic rise and fall of that factor. They're all geared to
+let the various factors operate at the proper relative rate. With such a
+machine, we can run off a graph of the tides for years ahead. Oh,
+hell--it's a lot more complicated than that, but it takes the basic
+facts and draws a picture of the results. We use electronic ones now,
+but the results are the same."
+
+"I understand," Sather Karf said. Dave doubted it, but he was happy to
+be saved from struggling with a more detailed explanation. And maybe the
+old man did understand some of it. He was no fool in his own subject,
+certainly. Sather Karf pondered for a moment, and then nodded with
+apparent satisfaction. "Your world was more advanced in understanding
+than I had thought. This computer is a fine scientific instrument,
+obeying natural law well. We have applied the same methods, though less
+elaborately. But the basic magical principle of similarity is the
+foundation of true science."
+
+Dave started to protest, and then stopped, frowning. In a way, what the
+other had said was true. Maybe there was some relation between science
+and magic, after all; there might even be a meeting ground between the
+laws of the two worlds he knew. Computers set up similar conditions,
+with the idea that the results would apply to the original. Magic used
+some symbolic part of a thing in manipulations that were to be effective
+for the real thing. The essential difference was that science was
+predictive and magic was effective--though the end results were often
+the same. On Dave's world, the cardinal rule of logic was that the
+symbol was not the thing--and work done on symbols had to be translated
+by hard work into reality. Maybe things were really more logical here
+where the symbol was the thing, and all the steps in between thought and
+result were saved.
+
+"So we are all at fault," Sather Karf said finally. "We should have
+studied you more deeply and you should have been more honest with us.
+Then we could have obtained a computer for you and you could have
+simulated our sky as it should be within your computer and forced it to
+be repaired long ago. But there's no time for regrets now. We cannot
+help you, so you must help yourself. Build a computer, Dave Hanson!"
+
+"It's impossible."
+
+Sudden rage burned on the old man's face, and he came to his feet. His
+arm jerked back and snapped forward. Nothing happened. He grimaced at
+the ruined sky. "Dave Hanson," he cried sharply, "by the unfailing power
+of your name which is all of you, I hold you in my mind and your throat
+is in my hand--"
+
+The old hands squeezed suddenly, and Hanson felt a vise clamp down
+around his throat. He tried to break free, but there was no escape. The
+old man mumbled, and the vise was gone, but something clawed at Hanson's
+liver. Something else rasped across his sciatic nerve. His kidneys
+seemed to be wrenched out of him.
+
+"You will build a computer," Sather Karf ordered. "And you _will_ save
+our world!"
+
+Hanson staggered from the shock of the pain, but he was no longer unused
+to agony. He had spent too many hours under the baking of the sun, the
+agony of the snetha-knife and the lash of an overseer's whip. The agony
+could not be stopped, but he'd learned it could be endured. His
+fantastic body could heal itself against whatever they did to him, and
+his mind refused to accept the torture supinely. He took a step toward
+Sather Karf, and another. His hands came up as he moved forward.
+
+Bork laughed suddenly. "Let up, Sather Karf, or you'll regret it. By the
+laws, you're dealing with a _man_ this time. Let up, or I'll free him to
+meet you fairly."
+
+The old man's eyes blazed hotly. Then he sighed and relaxed. The
+clutching hands and the pain were gone from Hanson as the Sather Karf
+slumped back wearily to his seat.
+
+"Fix our sky," the old man said woodenly.
+
+Hanson staggered back, panting from his efforts. But he nodded. "All
+right," he agreed. "Like Bork, I think a man has to fight against his
+fate, no matter how little chance he has. I'll do what I can. I'll build
+the damned computer. But when I'm finished, I'll wait for _your_ true
+name!"
+
+Suddenly Sather Karf laughed. "Well said, Dave Hanson. You'll have my
+name when the time comes. And whatever else you desire. Also what poor
+help we can give you now. Ser Perth, bring food for Dave Hanson!"
+
+Ser Perth shook his head sadly. "There is none. None at all. We hoped
+that the remaining planets would find a favorable conjunction, but--"
+
+Dave Hanson studied his helpers with more bitterness. "Oh, hell!" he
+said at last. He snapped his fingers. "Abracadabra!"
+
+His skill must be improving, since he got exactly what he had wished
+for. A full side of beef materialized against his palm, almost breaking
+his arm before he could snap it out of the way. The others swarmed
+hungrily toward it. At their expressions of wonder, Hanson felt more
+confidence returning to him. He concentrated and went through the little
+ritual again. This time loaves of bread rained down--fresh bread, and
+even of the brand he had wished for. Maybe he was becoming a magician
+himself, with a new magic that might still accomplish something.
+
+Sather Karf smiled approvingly. "The theory of resonance, I see.
+Unreliable generally. More of an art than a science. But you show
+promise of remarkable natural ability to apply it."
+
+"You know about it?" Dave had assumed that it was completely outside
+their experience and procedures.
+
+"We _knew_ it. But when more advanced techniques took over, most of us
+forgot it. The syllables resonate in a sound pattern with your world, to
+which you also still resonate. It won't work for you with anything from
+this world, nor will anything work thus for us from yours. We had
+different syllables, of course, for use here." Sather Karf considered
+it. "But if you can control it and bring in one of your computers or the
+parts for one--"
+
+Sixteen tries later, Dave was cursing as he stared at a pile of useless
+items. He'd gotten transistors at first. Then he lost control with too
+much tension or fatigue and began getting a bunch of assorted junk, such
+as old 201-A tubes, a transit, a crystal vase and resistors. But the
+chief trouble was that he couldn't secure working batteries. He had
+managed a few, but all were dead.
+
+"Like the soul, electrical charges will not transfer," Sather Karf
+agreed sadly. "I should have told you that."
+
+There was no electricity here with which to power anything, and their
+spells could not be made to work now. Even if he could build a computer
+out of what was obtainable, there would be no way to power it.
+
+Overhead, the sky shattered with a roar, and another piece fell, tearing
+downwards toward the city. Sersa Garm stared upwards in horror.
+
+"Mars!" he croaked. "Mars has fallen. Now can there be no conjunction
+ever!"
+
+He tautened and his body rose slowly from the ground. A scream ripped
+from his lips and faded away as he began rushing upwards with increasing
+speed. He passed but of their sight, straight toward the new hole in the
+sky.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+In the hours that followed, Dave's vague plans changed a dozen times as
+he found each idea unworkable. His emotional balance was also
+erratic--though that was natural, since the stars were completely
+berserk in what was left of the sky. He seemed to fluctuate between
+bitter sureness of doom and a stupidly optimistic belief that something
+could be done to avert that doom. But whatever his mood, he went on
+working and scheming furiously. Maybe it was the desperate need to keep
+himself occupied that drove him, or perhaps it was the pleading he saw
+in the eyes around him. In the end, determination conquered his
+pessimism.
+
+Somewhere in the combination of the science he had learned in his own
+world and the technique of magic that applied here there had to be an
+answer--or a means to hold back the end of the world until an answer
+could be found.
+
+The biggest problem was the number of factors with which he had to deal.
+There were seven planets and the sun, and three thousand fixed stars.
+All had to be ordered in their courses, and the sky had to be complete
+in his calculations.
+
+He had learned his trade where the answer was always to add one more
+circuit in increasing complexity. Now he had to think of the simplest
+possible similarity computer. Electronics was out, obviously. He tried
+to design a set of cams, like the tide machine, to make multiple
+tracings on paper similar to a continuous horoscope, but finally gave
+it up. They couldn't build the parts, even if there had been time.
+
+He had to depend on what was available, since magic couldn't produce any
+needed device and since the people here had depended on magic too long
+to develop the other necessary skills. When only the broadest powers of
+magic remained, they were hopeless. Names were still potent, resonance
+worked within its limits, and the general principles of similarity still
+applied; but those were not enough for them. They depended too heavily
+on the second great principle of contagion, and that seemed to be
+wrapped up with some kind of association through the signs and houses
+and the courses of the planets.
+
+He found himself thinking in circles of worry and pulled himself back to
+his problem. Normally, a computer was designed for flexibility and to
+handle varying conditions. This one could be designed to handle only one
+set of factors. It had to duplicate the courses of the objects in their
+sky and simulate the general behavior of the dome. It was not necessary
+to allow for all theoretical courses, but only for the normal orbits.
+
+And finally he realized that he was thinking of a model--the one thing
+which is functionally the perfect analogue.
+
+It brought him back to magic again. Make a doll like a man and stick
+pins in it--and the man dies. Make a model of the universe within the
+sky, and any changes in that should change reality. The symbol was the
+thing, and a model was obviously a symbol.
+
+He began trying to plan a model with three thousand stars in their
+orbits, trying to find some simple way of moving them. The others
+watched in fascination. They apparently felt that the diagrams he was
+drawing were some kind of scientific spell. Ser Perth was closer than
+the others, studying the marks he made. The man suddenly pointed to his
+computations.
+
+"Over and over I find the figure seven and the figure three thousand. I
+assume that the seven represents the planets. But what is the other
+figure?"
+
+"The stars," Hanson told him impatiently.
+
+Ser Perth shook his head. "That is wrong. There were only two thousand
+seven hundred and eighty-one before the beginnings of our trouble."
+
+"And I suppose you've got the exact orbits of every one?" Hanson asked.
+He couldn't see that the difference was going to help much.
+
+"Naturally. They are fixed stars, which means they move with the sky.
+Otherwise, why call them fixed stars? Only the sun and the planets move
+through the sky. The stars move with the sky over the world as a unity."
+
+Dave grunted at his own stupidity. That really simplified things, since
+it meant only one control for all of them and the sky itself. But
+designing a machine to handle the planets and the sun, while a lot
+simpler, was still a complex problem. With time, it would have been easy
+enough, but there was no time for trial and error.
+
+He ripped up his plans and began a new set. He'd need a glass sphere
+with dots on it for the stars, and some kind of levers to move the
+planets and sun. It would be something like the orreries he'd seen used
+for demonstrations of planetary movement.
+
+Ser Perth came over again, staring down at the sketch. He drowned in
+doubt. "Why waste time drawing such engines? If you want a model to
+determine how the orbits should be, we have the finest orrery ever built
+here in the camp. We brought it with us when we moved, since it would be
+needed to determine how the sky should be repaired and to bring the time
+and the positions into congruence. Wait!"
+
+He dashed off, calling two of the mandrakes after him. In a few minutes,
+they staggered back under a bulky affair in a protective plastic case.
+Ser Perth stripped off the case to reveal the orrery to Hanson.
+
+It was a beautiful piece of workmanship. There was an enormous sphere of
+thin crystal to represent the sky. Precious gems showed the stars,
+affixed to the dome. The whole was nearly eight feet in diameter. Inside
+the crystal, Hanson could see a model of the world on jeweled-bearing
+supports. The planets and the sun were set on tracks around the outside,
+with a clockwork drive mechanism that moved them by means of stranded
+spiderweb cords. Power came from weights, like those used on an
+old-fashioned clock. It was obviously all hand work, which must make it
+a thing of tremendous value here.
+
+"Sather Fareth spent his life designing this," Ser Perth said proudly.
+"It is so well designed that it can show the position of all things for
+a thousand centuries in the past or future by turning these cranks on
+the control, or it will hold the proper present positions for years from
+its own engine."
+
+"It's beautiful workmanship," Hanson told him. "As good as the best done
+on my world."
+
+Ser Perth went away, temporarily pleased with himself, and Hanson stood
+staring at the model. It was as good as he'd said it was--and completely
+damning to all of his theories and hopes. No model he could make would
+equal it. But in spite of it and all its precise analogy to the universe
+around him, the sky was still falling in shattered bits!
+
+Sather Karf and Bork had come over to join Hanson. They waited
+expectantly, but Hanson could think of nothing to do. It had already
+been done--and had failed. The old man dropped a hand on his shoulder.
+There was the weight of all his centuries on the Sather, yet a curious
+toughness showed through his weariness. "What is wrong with the orrery?"
+he asked.
+
+"Nothing--nothing at all, damn it!" Hanson told him. "You wanted a
+computer--and you've got it. You can feed in data as to the hour, day,
+month and year, turn the cranks, and the planets there will turn to
+their proper position exactly as the real planets should run. You don't
+need to read the results off graph paper. What more could any analogue
+computer do? But it doesn't influence the sky."
+
+"It was never meant to," the old man said, surprise in his voice. "Such
+power--"
+
+Then he stopped, staring at Hanson while something almost like awe
+spread over his face. "Yet ... the prophecy and the monument were right!
+You have unlocked the impossible! Yet you seem to know nothing of the
+laws of similarity or of magic, Dave Hanson. Is that crystal similar to
+the sky, by association, by contagion, or by true symbolism? A part may
+be a symbol for the whole--or so may any designated symbol, which may
+influence the thing it is. If I have a hair from your head, I can model
+you with power over you. But not with the hair of a pig! That is no true
+symbol!"
+
+"Suppose we substituted bits of the real thing for these
+representations?" Hanson asked.
+
+Bork nodded. "It might work. I've heard you found the sky material could
+be melted, and we've got enough of that where it struck the camp. Any
+one of us who has studied elementary alchemy could blow a globe of it to
+the right size for the sky dome. And there are a few stars from which we
+can chip pieces enough. We can polish them and put them into the sphere
+where they belong. And it will be risky, but we may even be able to
+shape a bit of the sun stuff to represent the great orb in the sky."
+
+"What about the planets?" Hanson was beginning to feel the depression
+lift. "You might get a little of Mars, since it fell near here, but that
+still leaves the other six."
+
+"That long associated with a thing achieves the nature of the thing,"
+Sather Karf intoned, as if giving a lesson to a kindergarten student.
+"With the right colors, metals and bits of jewels--as well as more
+secret symbols--we can simulate the planets. Yet they cannot be
+suspended above the dome, as in this orrery--they must be within the
+sky, as in nature."
+
+"How about putting some iron in each and using a magnet on the control
+tracks to move the planets?" Hanson suggested. "Or does cold iron ruin
+your conjuring here?"
+
+Sather Karf snorted in obvious disgust, but Bork only grinned. "Why
+should it? You must have heard peasant superstitions. Still, you'd have
+a problem if two tracks met, as they do. The magnets would then affect
+both planets alike. Better make two identical planets for each--and two
+suns--and put one on your track controls. Then one must follow the
+other, though the one remain within the sky."
+
+Hanson nodded. He'd have to shield the cord from the sun stuff, but that
+could be done. He wondered idly whether the real universe was going to
+wind up with tracks beyond the sky on which little duplicate planets
+ran--just how much similarity would there be between model and reality
+when this was done, if it worked at all? It probably didn't matter, and
+it could hardly be worse than whatever the risers had run into beyond
+the hole in the present sky. Metaphysics was a subject with which he
+wasn't yet fully prepared to cope.
+
+The model of the world inside the orrery must have been made from
+earthly materials already, and it was colored to depict land and sea
+areas. It could probably be used. At their agreement, he nodded with
+some satisfaction. That should save some time, at least. He stared
+doubtfully at the rods and bearings that supported the model world in
+the center of the orrery.
+
+"What about those things? How do we hold the globe in the center of
+everything?"
+
+Bork shrugged. "It seems simple enough. We'll fashion supports of more
+of the sky material."
+
+"And have real rods sticking up from the poles in the real universe?"
+Hanson asked sarcastically.
+
+"Why not?" Bork seemed surprised at Hanson's tone. "There have always
+been such columns connecting the world and the sky. What else would keep
+us from falling?"
+
+Hanson swore. He might have guessed it! The only wonder was that simple
+rods were used instead of elephants and turtles. And the doubly-damned
+fools had let Menes drive millions of slaves to death to build a pyramid
+to the sky when there were already natural columns that could have been
+used!
+
+"There remains only one step," Sather Karf decided after a moment more.
+"To make symbol and thing congruent, all must be invoked with the true
+and secret name of the universe."
+
+Hanson suddenly remembered legends of the tetragrammaton and the tales
+of magic he'd read in which there was always one element lacking. "And I
+suppose nobody knows that or dares to use it?"
+
+There was hurt pride of the aged face and the ring of vast authority in
+his voice. "Then you suppose wrong, Dave Hanson! Since this world first
+came out of Duality, a Sather Karf has known that mystery! Make your
+device and I shall not fail in the invocation!"
+
+For the first time, Hanson discovered that the warlocks could work when
+they had to, however much they disliked it. And at their own
+specialties, they were superb technicians. Under the orders of Sather
+Karf, the camp sprang into frenzied but orderly activity.
+
+They lost a few mandrakes in prying loose some of the sun material, and
+more in getting a small sphere of it shaped. But the remainder gave them
+the heat to melt the sky stuff. When it came to glass blowing, Hanson
+had to admit they were experts; it should have come as no surprise,
+after the elaborate alchemical apparatus he'd seen. Once the crystal
+shell was cracked out of the orrery, a fat-faced Ser came in with a long
+tube and began working the molten sky material, getting the feel of it.
+He did things Hanson knew were nearly impossible, and he did them with
+the calm assurance of an expert. Even when another rift in the sky
+appeared with a crackling of thunder, there was no faltering on his
+part. The sky shell and world supports were blown into shape around the
+world model inside the outer tracks in one continuous operation. The Ser
+then clipped the stuff from his tube and sealed the tiny opening
+smoothly with a bit of sun material on the end of a long metal wand.
+
+"Interesting material," he commented, as if only the technical nature of
+the stuff had offered any problem to him.
+
+Tiny, carefully polished chips from the stars were ready, and men began
+placing them delicately on the shell. They sank into it at once and
+began twinkling. The planets had also been prepared, and they also went
+into the shell, while a mate to each was attached to the tracking
+mechanism. The tiny sun came last. Hanson fretted as he saw it sink into
+the shell, sure it would begin to melt the sky material. It seemed to
+have no effect, however; apparently the sun was not supposed to melt the
+sky when it was in place--so the little sun didn't melt the shell. Once
+he was sure of that, he used a scrap of the sky to insulate the second
+little sun that would control the first sympathetically from the track.
+He moved the control delicately by hand, and the little sun followed
+dutifully.
+
+The weights on the control mechanism were in place, Hanson noted.
+Someone would probably have to keep them wound from now on, unless they
+could devise a foolproof motor. But that was for the future. He bent to
+the hand cranks. Sather Karf was being called to give the exact settings
+for this moment, but Hanson had a rough idea of where the planets should
+be. He began turning the crank, just as the Sather came up.
+
+There was a slight movement. Then the crank stuck, and there was a
+whirring of slipping gears! The fools who had moved the orrery must have
+been so careless that they'd sprung the mechanism. He bent down to study
+the tiny little jeweled gears. A whole gear train was out of place!
+
+Sather Karf was also inspecting it, and the words he cried didn't sound
+like an invocation, though they were strange enough. He straightened,
+still cursing. "Fix it!"
+
+"I'll try," Hanson agreed doubtfully. "But you'd better get the man who
+made this. He'll know better than I--"
+
+"He was killed in the first cracking of the sky when a piece hit him.
+Fix it, Dave Hanson. You claimed to be a repairman for such devices."
+
+Hanson bent to study it again, using a diamond lens one of the warlocks
+handed him. It was a useful device, having about a hundred times
+magnification without the need for exact focusing. He stared at the
+jumble of fine gears, then glanced out through the open front: of the
+building toward the sky. There was even less of it showing than he had
+remembered. Most of the great dome was empty. And now there were
+suggestions of ... shadows ... in the empty spots. He looked away
+hastily, shaken.
+
+"I'll need some fine tools," he said.
+
+"They were lost in moving this," Ser Perth told him. "This is the best
+we can do."
+
+The jumble of tools had obviously been salvaged from the kits on the
+tractors in the camp. There was one fairly small pair of pliers, a small
+pick and assorted useless junk. He shook his head hopelessly.
+
+"Fix it!" Sather Karf ordered again. The old man's eyes were also on the
+sky. "You have ten minutes, perhaps--no more."
+
+Hanson's fingers steadied as he found bits of wire and began improvising
+tools to manipulate the tiny gears. The mechanism was a piece of superb
+craftsmanship that should have lasted for a million years, but it had
+never been meant to withstand the heavy shock of being dropped, as it
+must have been. And there was very little space inside. It should have
+been disassembled and put back piece by piece, but there was no time for
+that.
+
+Another thunder of falling sky sounded, and the ground heaved.
+"Earthquakes!" Sather Karf whispered. "The end is near!"
+
+Then a shout went up, and Hanson jerked his eyes from the gears to focus
+on a group of rocs that were landing at the far end of the camp. Men
+were springing from their backs before they stopped running--men in
+dull robes with elaborate masks over their faces. At the front was
+Malok, leader of the Sons of the Egg, brandishing his knife.
+
+His voice carried clearly. "The egg hatches! To the orrery and smash it!
+That was the shadow in the pool. Destroy it before Dave Hanson can
+complete his magic!"
+
+The men behind him yelled. Around Hanson, the magicians cried out in
+shocked fear. Then old Sather Karf was dashing out from under the cover
+of the building, brandishing a pole on which a drop of the sun-stuff was
+glowing. His voice rose into a command that rang out over the cries of
+the others.
+
+Dave reached for a heavy hammer, meaning to follow. The old Sather
+seemed to sense it without looking back. "Fix the engine, Dave Hanson,"
+he called.
+
+It made sense. The others could do the fighting, but only he had
+training with such mechanisms. He turned back to his work, just as the
+warlocks began rallying behind Sather Karf, grabbing up what weapons
+they could find. There was no magic in this fight. Sticks, stones,
+hammers and knives were all that remained workable.
+
+Dave Hanson bent over the gears, cursing. Now there was another rumble
+of thunder from the falling sky. The half-light from the reflected
+sunlight dimmed, and the ground shook violently. Another set of gears
+broke from the housing. Hanson caught up a bit of sun-stuff on the sharp
+point of the awl and brought it closer, until it burned his hands. But
+he had seen enough. The mechanism was ruined beyond his chance to repair
+it in time.
+
+He slapped the cover shut and stuck the sun-tipped awl where it would
+light as much of the orrery as possible. As always, the skills of his
+own world had failed. To the blazes with it, then--when in magic land,
+magic had to do.
+
+He thought of calling Ser Perth or Sather Karf, but there was no time
+for that, and they could hardly have heard him over the sounds of the
+desperate fight going on.
+
+He bent to the floor, searching until he found a ball of the sky
+material that had been pinched off when the little opening was sealed.
+Further hunting gave him a few bits of dust from the star bits and some
+of the junk that had gone into shaping the planets. He brushed in some
+dirt from the ground that had been touched by the sun stuff and was
+still glowing faintly. He wasn't at all sure of how much he could
+extrapolate from what he'd read in the book on Applied Semantics, but he
+knew he needed a control--a symbol of the symbol, in this case. It was
+crude, but it might serve to represent the orrery.
+
+He clutched it in his hand and touched it against the orrery, trying to
+remember the formula for the giving of a true name. He had to improvise,
+but he got through a rough version of it, until he came to the end: "I
+who created you name you--" What the deuce did he name it? "I name you
+Rumpelstilsken and order you to obey me when I call you by your name."
+
+He clutched the blob of material tighter in his hand, mentally trying to
+shape an order that wouldn't backfire, as such orders seemed to in the
+childhood stories of magic he had learned. Finally his lips whispered
+the simplest order he could find. "Rumpelstilsken, repair yourself!"
+
+There was a whirring and scraping inside the mechanism, and Hanson let
+out a yell. He got only a hasty glimpse of gears that seemed to be back
+on their tracks before Sather Karf was beside him, driving the cranks
+with desperate speed.
+
+"We have less than a minute!" the old voice gasped.
+
+The Sather's fingers spun on the controls. Then he straightened, moving
+his hands toward the orrery in passes too rapid to be seen. There was a
+string of obvious ritual commands in their sacred language. Then a
+single word rang out, a string of sounds that should have come from no
+human vocal chords.
+
+There was a wrench and twist through every atom of Hanson's body. The
+universe seemed to cry out. Over the horizon, a great burning disc rose
+and leaped toward the heavens as the sun went back to its place in the
+sky. The big bits of sky-stuff around also jerked upwards, revealing
+themselves by the wind they whipped up and by the holes they ripped
+through the roof of the building. Hanson clutched at the scrap he had
+pocketed, but it showed no sign of leaving, and the tiny blob of
+sun-stuff remained fixed to the awl.
+
+Through the diamond lens, Hanson could see the model of the world in the
+orrery changing. There were clouds apparently painted on it where no
+clouds had been. And there was an indication of movement in the green of
+the forests and the blue of the oceans, as if trees were whipping in the
+wind and waves lapping the shores.
+
+When he jerked his eyes upward, all seemed serene in the sky. Sunlight
+shone normally on the world, and from under the roof he could see the
+gaudy blue of sky, complete, with the cracks in it smoothing out as he
+watched.
+
+The battle outside had stopped with the rising of the sun. Half the
+warlocks were lying motionless, and the other half had clustered
+together, close to the building where Hanson and Sather Karf stood. The
+Sons of the Egg seemed to have suffered less, since they greatly
+out-numbered the others, but they were obviously more shocked by the
+rising of the sun and the healing of the sky.
+
+Then Malok's voice rang out sharply. "It isn't stable yet! Destroy the
+machine! The egg must hatch!"
+
+He leaped forward, brandishing his knife, while the Sons of the Egg fell
+in behind him. The warlocks began to close ranks, falling back to make a
+stand under the jutting edge of the roof, where they could protect the
+orrery. Bork and Ser Perth were among them, bloody but hopelessly
+determined.
+
+One look at Sather Karf's expression was enough to convince Hanson that
+Malok had cried the truth and that their work could still be undone. And
+it was obvious that the warlocks could never stand the charge of the
+Sons. Too many of them had already been killed, and there was no time
+for reviving them.
+
+Sather Karf was starting forward into the battle, but Hanson made no
+move to follow. He snapped the diamond lens to his eye and his fingers
+caught at the drop of sun-stuff on the awl. He had to hold it near the
+glowing bit for steadiness, and it began searing his fingers. He forced
+control on his muscles and plunged his hand slowly through the sky
+sphere, easing the glowing blob downward toward the spot on the globe he
+had already located with the lens. His thumb and finger moved downward
+delicately, with all the skill of practice at working with nearly
+invisibly fine wires on delicate instruments.
+
+Then he jerked his eyes away from the model and looked out. Something
+glaring and hot was suspended in the air five miles away. He moved his
+hand carefully, steadying it on one of the planet tracks. The glowing
+fire in the air outside moved another mile closer--then another. And
+now, around it, he could see a monstrous fingertip and something that
+might have been miles of thumbnail.
+
+The warlocks leaped back under the roof. The Sons of the Egg screamed
+and panicked. Jerking horribly, the monstrous thing moved again. For
+part of a second, it hovered over the empty camp. Then it was gone.
+
+Hanson began pulling his hand out through the shell of the model,
+whimpering as his other hand clenched against the blob in his pocket. He
+had suddenly realized what horrors were possible to anyone who could use
+the orrery now. "Rumpelstilsken, I command you to let no hand other than
+mine enter and to respond to no other controls." He hoped it would offer
+enough protection.
+
+His hand came free and he threw the sun-bit away with a flick of his
+wrist. His hand ached with the impossible task of steadiness he had set
+it, and his finger and thumb burned and smoked. But the wound was
+already healing.
+
+In the exposed section of the camp, the Sons of the Egg were charred
+corpses. There was a fire starting on the roof of the building, but
+others had already run out to quench that. It sounded like the snuffling
+progress of an undine across the roof! Maybe magic was working again.
+
+Bork turned back from the sight of his former companions. His face was
+sick, but he managed to grin at Hanson. "Dave Hanson, to whom nothing is
+impossible," he said.
+
+Hanson had located Nema finally as she approached. He caught her hand
+and grabbed Bork's arm. Like his own, it was trembling with fatigue and
+reaction.
+
+"Come on," he said. "Let's find some place where we can see whether it's
+impossible now for you to magic up a decent meal. And a drink strong
+enough to scare away the sylphs."
+
+The sylph that found them wasn't scared by the Scotch, but there was
+enough for all of them.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+Three days can work magic--in a world where magic works. The planets
+swung along their paths again and the sun was in the most favorable
+house for conjuration. The universe was stable again.
+
+There was food for all, and houses had been conjured hastily to shelter
+the people. The plagues were gone. Now the strange commerce and industry
+of this world were humming again. Those who had survived and those who
+could be revived were busily rebuilding. Some were missing, of course.
+Those who had risen and--hatched--were beyond recall, but no one spoke
+of them. If any Sons of the Egg survived, they were quiet in their
+defeat.
+
+Hanson had been busy during most of the time. It had been taken for
+granted that he would tend to the orrery, setting it for the most
+favorable conditions when some special major work of magic required it,
+and he had taken the orders and moved the controls as they wanted them.
+The orrery was housed temporarily in the reconstituted hall of the
+Satheri in the capital city. They were building a new hall for it, to be
+constructed only of natural materials and hand labor, but that was a
+project that would take long months still.
+
+Now the immediate pressure was gone, and Hanson was relaxing with Bork
+and Nema.
+
+"Another week," Bork was saying. "Maybe less. And then gangs of the
+warlocks can spread out to fix up all the rest of the world--and to take
+over control of their slaves again. Are you happy with your victory,
+Dave Hanson?"
+
+Hanson shrugged. He wasn't entirely sure, now. There was something in
+the looks of the Sather who gave him orders for new settings that
+bothered him. And some of the developments he watched were hardly what
+he would have preferred. The warlocks had good memories, it seemed, and
+there had been manifold offenses against them while the world was
+falling apart.
+
+He tried to put it out of his mind as he drew Nema to him. She snuggled
+against him, admiring him with her eyes. But old habits were hard to
+break. "Don't, Dave. I'm a registered and certified--"
+
+She stopped then, blushing, and Bork chuckled.
+
+Ser Perth appeared at the doorway with two of the mandrakes. He motioned
+to Hanson. "The council of Satheri want you," he said. His eyes avoided
+the other, and he seemed uncomfortable.
+
+"Why?" Bork asked.
+
+"It's time for Dave Hanson's reward," Ser Perth said. The words were
+smooth enough, but the eyes turned away again.
+
+Hanson got up and moved forward. He had been wondering when they would
+get around to this. Beside him, Bork and Nema also rose. "Never trust a
+Sather," Bork said softly.
+
+Nema started to protest, then changed her mind. She frowned, torn
+between old and new loyalties.
+
+"The summons was only for Dave Hanson," Ser Perth said sternly as the
+three drew up to him. But as Hanson took the arms of the other two, the
+Ser shrugged and fell in behind. Very softly, too low for the hearing of
+the mandrakes, his words sounded in Hanson's ear. "Guard yourself, Dave
+Hanson!"
+
+So there was to be treachery, Hanson thought. He wasn't surprised. He
+was probably lucky to have even three friends. The Satheri would hardly
+feel very grateful to a mandrake-man who had accomplished something
+beyond their power, now that the crisis was over. They had always been a
+high-handed bunch, apparently, and he had served his purpose. But he
+covered his thoughts in a neutral expression and went forward quietly
+toward the huge council room.
+
+The seventy leading Satheri were all present, with Sather Karf
+presiding, when Hanson was ushered into their presence. He moved down
+the aisle, not glancing at the seated Satheri, until he was facing the
+old man, drawing Nema and Bork with him. There were murmurs of protest,
+but nobody stopped him. Above him, the eyes of Sather Karf were
+uncertain. For a moment, there seemed to be a touch of friendliness and
+respect in them, but there was something else that Hanson liked far
+less. Any warmth that was there vanished at his first words.
+
+"It's about time," Hanson said flatly. "When you wanted your world
+saved, you were free enough with offers of reward. But three days have
+passed without mention of it. Sather Karf, I demand your secret name!"
+
+He heard Nema gasp, but felt Bork's fingers press against his arm
+reassuringly. There was a rising mutter of shock and anger from the
+others, but he lifted his voice over it. "And the secret names of all
+those present. That was also part of the promised reward."
+
+"And do you think you could use the names, Dave Hanson?" Sather Karf
+asked. "Against the weight of all our knowledge, do you think you could
+become our master that easily?"
+
+Hanson had his own doubts. There were counter-magical methods against
+nearly all magic, and the book he had read had been only an elementary
+one. But he nodded. "I think with your name I could get my hands on your
+hearts, even if you did your worst. It doesn't matter. I claim my
+reward."
+
+"And you shall have it. The word of Sather Karf is good," the old man
+told him. "But there was no mention of when you would be given those
+names. You said that when the computer was finished you would _wait_ for
+my true name, and I promised that you should have it when the time came,
+but not what the time would be. So you will wait, or the agreement shall
+be broken by you, not by me. When you are dying or otherwise beyond
+power over us, you shall have the names, Dave Hanson. No, hear me!"
+
+He lifted his hand in a brief gesture and Hanson felt a thickness over
+his lips that made speech impossible.
+
+"We have discussed your reward, and you shall indeed have it," Sather
+Karf went on. "Exactly as I promised it to you. I agreed to find ways to
+return you to your own world intact, and you shall be returned."
+
+For a moment, the thickness seemed to relax, and Hanson choked a few
+words out through it. "What's the world of a mandrake-man, Sather Karf?
+A mandrake swamp?"
+
+"For a mandrake-man, yes. But not for you." There was something like
+amusement in the old man's voice. "I never said you were a mandrake-man.
+That was told you by Ser Perth who knew no better. No, Dave Hanson, you
+were too important to us for that. Mandrake-men are always less than
+true men, and we needed your best. You were conjured atom by atom, id
+and ka and soul, from your world. Even the soul may be brought over
+when enough masters of magic work together and you were our greatest
+conjuration. Even then, we almost failed. But you're no mandrake-man."
+
+A load of sickness seemed to leave Hanson's mind. He had never fully
+realized how much the shame of what he thought himself to be had weighed
+on him. Then his mind adjusted to the new facts, dismissing his past
+worries.
+
+"I promised you that we would fill your entire lifetime with pleasures,"
+Sather Karf went on. "And you were assured of jewels to buy an empire.
+All this the council is prepared to give you. Are you ready for your
+reward?"
+
+"No!" Bork's cry broke out before Hanson could answer. The big man was
+writhing before he could finish the word, but his own fingers were
+working in conjurations that seemed to hold back enough of the spells
+against him to let him speak. "Dave Hanson, your world was a world of
+rigid laws. You died there. And there would be no magic to avoid the
+fact that there you must always be dead."
+
+Hanson's eyes riveted on the face of Sather Karf. The old man looked
+back and finally nodded his head. "That is true," he admitted. "It would
+have been kinder for you not to know, but it is the truth."
+
+"And jewels enough to buy an empire on a corpse," Hanson accused. "A
+lifetime of pleasures--simple enough when that lifetime would be over
+before it began. What were the pleasures, Sather Karf? Having you reveal
+your name just before I was sent back and feeling I'd won?" He grimaced.
+"I reject the empty rewards of your empty promises!"
+
+"I also rejected the interpretation, but I was out-voted," Sather Karf
+said, and there was a curious reluctance as he raised his hand. "But it
+is too late. Dave Hanson prepare to receive your reward. By the power of
+your name--"
+
+Hanson's hand went to his pocket and squeezed down on the blob of sky
+material there. He opened his mouth, and found that the thickness was
+back. For a split second, his mind screamed in panic as he realized he
+could not even pronounce the needed words.
+
+Then coldness settled over his thoughts as he drove them to shape the
+unvoiced words in his mind. Nobody had told him that magic incantations
+had to be pronounced aloud. It seemed to be the general law, but for all
+he knew, ignorance of the law here might change the law. At least he
+meant to die trying, if he failed.
+
+"Rumpelstilsken, I command the sun to set!"
+
+He seemed to sense a hesitation in his mind, and then the impression of
+jeweled gears turning. Outside the window, the light reddened, dimmed,
+and was gone, leaving the big room illuminated by only a few witch
+lights.
+
+The words Sather Karf had been intoning came to a sudden stop, even
+before they could be drowned in the shouts of shock and panic from the
+others. His eyes centered questioningly on Hanson and the flicker of a
+smile crossed his face. "To the orrery!" he ordered. "Use the manual
+controls."
+
+Hanson waited until he estimated the men who left would be at the
+controls. The he clutched the sky-blob again. The thoughts in his mind
+were clearer this time.
+
+"Rumpelstilsken, let the sun rise from the west and set in the east!"
+
+Some of the Satheri were at the windows to watch what happened this
+time. Their shouts were more frightened than before. A minute later, the
+others were back, screaming out the news that the manual controls could
+not be moved--could not even be touched.
+
+The orrery named Rumpelstilsken was obeying its orders fully, and the
+universe was obeying its symbol.
+
+Somehow, old Sather Karf brought order out of the frightened mob that
+had been the greatest Satheri in the world. "All right, Dave Hanson," he
+said calmly. "Return the sun to its course. We agree to your
+conditions."
+
+"You haven't heard them yet!"
+
+"Nevertheless," Sather Karf answered firmly, "we agree. What else can we
+do? If you decided to wreck the sky again, even you might not be able to
+repair it a second time." He tapped his hands lightly together and the
+sound of a huge gong reverberated in the room. "Let the hall be cleared.
+I will accept the conditions in private."
+
+There were no objections. A minute later Hanson, Bork and Nema were
+alone with the old man. Sunlight streamed in through the window, and
+there were fleecy clouds showing in the blue sky.
+
+"Well?" Sather Karf asked. There was a trace of a smile on his face and
+a glow of what seemed to be amusement in his eyes as he listened, though
+Hanson could see nothing amusing in the suggestions he was making.
+
+First, of course, he meant to stay here. There was no other place for
+him, but he would have chosen to stay in any event. Here he had
+developed into what he had never even thought of being, and there were
+still things to be learned. He'd gone a long way on what he'd found in
+one elementary book. Now, with a chance to study all their magical lore
+and apply it with the methods he had learned in his own world, there
+were amazing possibilities opening up to him. For the world, a few
+changes would be needed. Magic should be limited to what magic did best;
+the people needed to grow their own food and care for themselves. And
+they needed protection from the magicians. There would have to be a code
+of ethics to be worked out later.
+
+"You've got all the time you need to work things out, Sathator Hanson,"
+Sather Karf told him. "It's your world, literally, so take your time.
+What do you want first?"
+
+Hanson considered it, while Nema's hand crept into his. Then he grinned.
+"I guess I want to get your great granddaughter turned into a registered
+and certified wife and take her on a long honeymoon," he decided. "After
+what you've put me through, I need a rest."
+
+He took her arm and started down the aisle of the council room. Behind
+him, he heard Bork's chuckle and the soft laughter of Sather Karf. But
+their faces were sobering by the time he reached the doorway and looked
+back.
+
+"I like him, too, grandfather," Bork was saying. "Well, it seems your
+group was right, after all. Your prophecy is fulfilled. He may have a
+little trouble with so many knowing his name, but he's Dave Hanson, to
+whom nothing is impossible. You should have considered all the
+implications of omnipotence."
+
+Sather Karf nodded. "Perhaps. And perhaps your group was also right,
+Bork. It seems that the world-egg has hatched." His eyes lifted and
+centered on the doorway.
+
+Hanson puzzled over their words briefly as he closed the door and went
+out with Nema. He'd probably have to do something about his name, but
+the rest of the conversation was a mystery to him. Then he dismissed
+it. He could always remember it when he had more time to think about it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was many millenia and several universes later when Dave Hanson
+finally remembered. By then it was no mystery, of course. And there was
+no one who dared pronounce his true name.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
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