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breaths. "Tell me about it."
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Daria crossed her legs and pulled the ratty blanket up around her. "It was
awful. It started like the first dream like a documentary. There was more
about the project the cre-
ation of the new form of consciousness. Not much I could understand... but
then, there was an interruption."
"The Goddess?"
"Yes, it was her, but she didn't appear in that form. I can't explain it. It
was horrible. It was like being witness to the conflicts that went on in
Heaven between God and Satan. I
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ey.txt can't explain it, Jake. All I know is that I want no part of it."
"But we're caught in the middle."
She looked down. "Yes. We must get back... somehow.
Back to the real world."
"The worlds, you mean. The worlds of the Skyway that the
Culmination created."
"Caused to be created. The Roadbugs built it, and maintain it. They're a race
that didn't contribute to the Culmination.
They declined to participate, but thought the project was a good idea."
"What, the Skyway?"
"No, the Culmination itself. When the Culmination came to be, they became a
servant race. Willingly, I think. They built the road at the Culmination's
request."
"I caught a little bit of that. Why did the Culmination want the road built?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sure I understood. That's what part of the
conflict is about. Do you remember the first dream? When the various races
discussed the project? There were opposing factions, and somehow those
conflicts were never resolved. This... this new form of consciousness was
supposed to be uniform, monolithic, one thing only. A unity.
But it didn't work out that way. Now there's this godlike
PARADOX ALLEY 123
being, this immortal, powerful thing loose in the universe...
and it's partly insane. Schizophrenic! There's no telling what it will do. It
transcends time and space. It can effect changes on the stream of time
itself."
"Create paradoxes?"
She looked at me with a sudden new awareness. "Yes. Yes, it can do that. It
can do anything. Oh, Jake!" She threw her arms around me. "We've been pawns!
We've been manipu-
lated! I don't know how or why or what the purpose is, but we're puppets,
nothing more. All of this has been for no un-
derstandable reason. No reason we can fathom. We don't have a chance of
comprehending these forces that insist on pushing us around. I'm tired of it!
I want them to stop, Jake! I want to be left alone!"
She sobbed, and I held her.
Presently, I asked, "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm fine."
She dried her eyes, swung her legs out, got up. I noticed that her abdomen
bulged. 1 put my hand on it and pressed gently. She smiled and put her hand
over mine.
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"Over three months," she said.
"It's been that long? I guess it has. You've gained weight.
You're tall enough so it doesn't show."
"It's going to be a boy."
"Why not?"
She laughed. I kissed her stomach, put my ear to it.
"You can't hear the heartbeat like that," she said.
"No. He has the the radio on."
She laughed again.
I got up and kissed her mouth, then bent and kissed both breasts.
"I love you," she said.
"I love you," I told her.
It was that simple. It had been that simple all along.
I got dressed and went out into the cab. It was empty. I fed a signal to the
trailer and yelled for Lori and Carl.
"Jake, they went off with Arthur," Bruce informed me.
"What! Where?"
"They commenced the inspection. Carl couldn't sleep, and
124 John DeChancie PARADOX ALLEY 125
insisted on exploring the place. I am in constant touch with the foreman, and
know exactly where they are. They are fine, and Carl is busy using the Product
Ideation and Design Facil-
ity."
"The what? Never mind, just tell me how I get to where they are. Damn kids,
running off. You should have got me up, Bruce."
"Jake, I did try. But you were apparently exhausted."
"What time is it? How long have they been gone?"
"About six hours, Jake."
"Good God."
Daria came into the cab, dressed in khakis and one of
John's torn Militia surplus shirts. We were all getting short on clothes.
"An attendant is being summoned to conduct you to the
Product Ideation and Design Facility."
"An attendant?"
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"I think..."
And there it was, a shining multiarmed robot coasting to-
ward us across the glossy blue floor.
We got out. The contraption pulled up to us and stopped. It was partly a
conveyance of some sort, although the seats in the back hadn't been built for
humans. Lacking wheels, the thing floated a few centimeters off the floor. It
buzzed softly at us.
I said, "I guess that means 'All aboard.'"
We climbed into the back of it and perched ourselves on the impossible,
mushroom-shaped seats. There weren't any backrests, but there was a crossbar
to hang onto.
We were conducted on a very informative and educational tour of the plant. A
long one, too, but I was politic enough not to complain. Everything was
impressive, but we didn't know what the hell we were looking at. Our guide
kept buzzing at us, we kept nodding and smiling pleasantly. Oh, my. Fifty
million units produced in one year? How admirable.
But, by God, what a plant. A cool, quiet place of industrial and scientific
sculpture. We could appreciate it on that level at least. We soared along high
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